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were not regular church-goers at other times,
and if he had known what was going on he
could not have preached a more suitable
discourse, for it was 'Be not drunk with wine,
wherein is excess.' One of his best sermons;
but there it did not touch us you see, for we
never tasted anything but brandy or gin.
Ah! he was a dear old man our parson, mild
as milk, nothing ever put him out. Once I
mind, in the middle of morning prayer there
was a buzz down by the porch, and the folks
began to get up and go out of church one by
one. At last there was hardly three left.
So the parson shut the book and took off his
surplice, and he said to the clerk, 'There is
surely something amiss.' And so there
certainly was, for when we came out on the
cliff there was a king's cutter in chase of our
vessel, the Black Prince, close under the
land, and there was our departed congregation
looking on. Well, at last Whorwell, who
commanded our trader, ran for the Gullkoch
(where it was certain death for anything to
follow him), and the revenue commander
sheered away to save his ship. Then off
went our hats, and we gave Whorwell three
cheers. So, when there was a little peace,
the parson said to us all, 'And now, my
friends, let us return and proceed with
divine service.' We did return; and it was
surprising after all that bustle and uproar to
hear how Parson Trenowth went on, just
as if nothing had come to pass:—'Here
beginneth the Second Lesson.'"

But, on another occasion, the equanimity
and forbearance of the parson were sorely
tried; he presided, as the custom was, at a
parish feast, in cassock and bands, and had,
with his white hair and venerable countenance,
quite an apostolic aspect and mien.
On a sudden, a busy whisper among the
farmers at the lower end of the table attracted
his notice, interspersed as it was by sundry
nods and glances towards himself. At last,
one bolder than the rest, addressed him, and
said that they had a great wish to ask his
reverence a question if he would kindly grant
them a reply; it was on a religious subject
that they had dispute, he said. The bland
old man assured them of his readiness to yield
them any information or answer in his power.

"But what was the point in debate?"

"Why, sir, we wished to be informed if
there were not sins which God Almighty
would never forgive?"

Surprised and somewhat shocked, he told
them "that he trusted there were no
transgressions, common to themselves, but if
repented of and abjured they might clearly hope
to be forgiven." But, with a natural curiosity,
he inquired what kind of iniquities they had
discussed as too vile to look for pardon.
"Why, sir," replied their spokesman, "we
thought that if a man should find out where
run goods was deposited and should inform
the gauger, that such a villain was too bad
for mercy."

How widely the doctrinal discussions of
those days differed from our own! Let us
not, however, suppose that all the clergy were
as gentle and unobtrusive as old Parson
Trenowth. A tale is told of an adjacent
parish, situated also on the sea-shore, of far
more stirring kind. It was full sea in the
evening of an autumn day when a traveller
arrived where the road ran along by a sandy
beach just above high-water mark. The
stranger, who was a native of some inland
town and utterly unacquainted with
Cornwall and its ways, had reached the brink of
the tide just as a "landing" was coming off.
It was a scene not only to instruct a townsman,
but also to dazzle and surprise. At sea
just beyond the billows, lay the vessel well
moored with anchors at stem and stern.
Between the ship and the shore boats laden to
the gunwale passed to and fro. Crowds
assembled on the beach to help the cargo
ashore. On the one hand a boisterous group
surrounded a keg with the head knocked in,
for simplicity of access to the good Cognac,
into which they dipped whatsoever vessel
came first to hand; one man had filled his
shoe. On the other side they fought and
wrestled, cursed and swore. Horrified at
what he saw, the stranger lost all self-command,
and oblivious of personal danger, he
began to shout, "What a horrible sight!
Have you no shame? Is there no magistrate
at hand? Cannot any justice of the peace
be found in this fearful country?"

"No. Thanks be to God,"answered a hoarse,
gruff voice, "none within eight miles."

"Well then!" screamed the stranger, "Is
there no clergyman hereabout? Does no
minister of the parish live among you on
this coast?"

"Ay! to be sure there is," said the same
deep voice.

"Well, how far off does he live? Where
is he?"

"That's he, sir, yonder, with the lanthorn."

And sure enough there he stood, on a rock,
and poured, with pastoral diligence, the light
of other days on a busy congregation.


Batavia, had a daughter, whose name was
Maria. Since she was not only charming
and accomplished, but also the only child of
a rich papa who was governor of the Dutch
East Indies, Maria's image was impressed on
many a heart, and she had no lack of suitors.
There were great men among them; but, with
maiden-like perversity, Maria most favoured
a poor young sailora handsome, dashing
fellow, who was very skilful in his business;
but who had no pockets, or no use for any.
The young sailor's name was Abel Jansen
Tasman. "He was devoted to Maria heart and
soul, had exchanged pledges with her, and had

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