LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2334, 26 September 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

OUR TWO SQUIRES. THE STOBY OF A LONG FEUD. Chapter I. It was Christmas morning ; a genuine oldfashioned Chrlstmast, sharp and clear and cold. The meadows were covered, far and wide, with crisp white snow; and the hedgerowsjsparkled with crystal frost work. The rustic monuments in the village churchyard assumed forms of quaint indefiniteness under their fleecy covering, and the ancient yew trees, dark and gloomy in summer when all else was gay, seemed now like fairy fountains, springing upward in the winter sunshine. Within the church was gathered well n'gh the whole population of our Cornish parish ; for it was a point of honor with our villagers that none, young or old, should be absent from the morning service on Christmas Day. We all had a hearty affection for our fine old Norman ohuroh, whose ' storied panes ' and ancient carvings were the pride of the country side, and even more than usually beautiful looked the dear old edifice on this Christmas morning. Reredos and rood screen had been deoked by loving hands. Font and lectern, stone pillar and oaken bench-end, each bore its wreath of evergreen, the round red holly berries sparkling and dinging ivy and clnstering mistletoe. Around the walls might be read, in graceful tracery of winter foliage, the Christmas oarol of the angels. ' Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, goodwill among men;' and with tender eloquence our good old vicar pressed the same lesson home to our hearts.

In bygone years, so our fathers told us, Stephen Pentreath had been one of the noblest preachers the Church could boast. Splendid preferment had more than once been offered him ; but he had declined it, voluntarily remaining where Province had first placed him, and dedicating his whole life to the service of our obscure country parish. Nor, if love and honor be any guerdon, he had missed his due reward. His prodecessor had belonged to a school now happily growing rarer every day. Church and State, fox-hunting and old port, were the four cardinal points of his creed. Doctrinally, his religious views were limited to an intense and personal hatred of "Papists" on the one hand and "Methodists " on the other. On the promotion of this worthy gentleman to a deanery, Stephen Pentreath, then aged about thirtyfive, was presented to the living. The state In which he found the parish may be readily imaginod. The majority cf the male population, consisting chiefly of miners and quarrymen, were drunken and swearing reprobates, whose principal amusements were cock-fighting and dog-fighting; and the women were fitting wives and daughters of ouch husbands and fathers. The parish church was deserted, save by a few old women, who attended for the sake of certain small pecuniary doles in the gift of the incumbent ; and the few parishioners who still retain any remnant of religious feeling attended the "chapel" at the other end of the village, where a local Boanerges held forth weekly, preaching at the top of his voice the gospel of grace without works, interspersed with abuse of the parson and existing institutions generally. Such was the unpromising soil in which Stephen Pentreath, nearly half a century ago, commenced his labors. The hand of every man was against him ; and if he entered the humblest cottage, he was made to feel in the plainest manner that he was an intruder. For many months he preached to well-nigh empty pews ; but the children took to him from the first, and gradually little stories of his doings got abroad, which greatly increased his popularity. It was told in the village ale-house how he had thrashed big Tom Bunt the blacksmith, the bully of the parish, for ill-treating a poor half-witted lad. The humanity of the motive was scarcely understood ; but the man who could thrash Tom Bunt was clearly a man to be respected. ' T' passon's a rare good plucked un,' was the popular verdict ; and tho rough quarrymen, who had previously passed Mr Pentreath with sullen ellenoe or opsnly expressed contempt, thenceforward touched their hats to him with a rugged attempt at courtesy. Then it got abroad how Mr Pentreath had saddled his horse on a stormy night, with the snow a foot deep on the ground, and ridden five miles to fetch a doctor for Nancy Symons' ailing child ; and then again how, when the miller's pretty daughter was tempted from home by a soondrel, the parson had gone up to ' Lunuon,' and traced her out, and brought the lost one baok to her sorrowing parents. But what perhaps had the greatest effect of all was the astounding fact, that the chapel being in sore extramity and like to be closed for lack of fnnds, Mr Pentreath sought out the loud - voiced preacher, and gave him a ten-pound note to help to tide over the difficulty. This ' gross act of disloyalty to the Establishment,' as it was described by a neighboring rector, produood a profound sensation. Many opined that 't' passon had gone clean mozed.' But on the following Sunday two-thirds of the chapel congregation, some from cariosity to see a little more of their generous foe, some from a rough notion of doing a courtesy in return for the gift, came to churoh, and having once come within the range of Pentreath's eloquence, they came again and again. He had that marvellous gift, vouchsafed but to few, of holding an audience spell-bound with a mesmeric power ; of stirring his hearers at will to smiles and tears, to tenderness or indignation, or, with a few apt words, of bringing up in absolute life likeness the scenes or characters desired to portray. For the first time in the experience of his hearers, the persons and scenes of tho Bible history assumed the colors of living reality. Instead of the sermon being regarded as a sort of necessary evil, it was looked forward to an tho passport to scenes of absorbing interest, depicted in stirring and powerful language. In less than a couple of years from this time, the chapel had died a natural death. The odium theelogicum, on which

it had mainly thrt'oed, had vanished altogether; for the parson's parse and the parson's wera just as freely at the service in lime of trouble of the moat Primitive Methodist as of the staunehest churchman; and on the retirement of Boanerges from old age, those few of his followers who had hitherto remained martyrs to principle were rather glad of the exense to transfer themselves to the parson's congregation. Suoh was the man who, now bowed with a2e and infirmity, but still earnest, still eloquent, once more preached the message of peace and goodwill. Not an eye wandered among the upturned faoes, not a sound broke the quiet hush of rapt attention, at he spoko his concluding words—- ' And now, my brethren, —nay, rather my children, for my journey has been long, and most of those who started with me have gone one by ono to their rest, —for well-nigh forty years have I labored among you, and the time is at hand when I too shall rest, ' and when yon will hear my voice no moro. It Is but a little while, and the sliver oord must be loosed, and the golden bowl be broken. God has been very good to me ; yet one gift more, one only, would I aak of Him, that, ere I go to my long home, every soul in this my little flock shall have blotted out all memory of former feud or ancient grievance, and shall, with love and fellowship to all mankind, bo able to join in this Christmas song of the angels, "On earth ; peace, goodwill among men." ' All knew for whom these last words were specially intended, for the feud between my uncle, Riohard Polwhele, and the only other large landowner in the parish, Sir Philip l refusis, was a matter almost of county history. It had originated many years baok, when both were young men fresh from Oxford, At school and college they had been bosom friends, nay, almost brothers but (so the story ran) both young men had been fascinated by the wiles of the same village beauty. Neither would yield to the other, A violent quarrel arose, and in a moment of passionate excitement on both sides Trefusis struck Polwhele with his riding-whip across the face. Polwhele raised his hand to return the blow, but checked himself, or it would have gone hard with Trefasls, for he was slight and undersized, while Folwhele's strength and daring were proverbial throughout the country-side. ' If yon value yonr life,' he said, controll ng b/mself by a mighty effort, ' get out of my tight.' Trefußis read aright the warning of the white face and the flashing eyes, and already dreading the consequences of his rash act, fled away. Richard Polwhele spent the rest of that day alone in the woods, and fourand twenty hours afterwards was stricken with brain fever. Ere he had completely recovered his rival had left the country, and the coquettish cause of their quarrel had married a rustic swain whom she secretly much preferred to either of her aristooratic admirers. Thirty years had since passed by, during the greater part of which Trefusis had remained abroad, visiting his native place only at rare intervals. Three years back, howev jr, he had finally returned, a widower with one daughter, now aged nine teen, and had taken up his abode once more at the family mansion, Trecarra Park. Richard Polwhele had also married, and was left a widower, with five children —Howard, Mary, Alice, Perclt, and Dorothy, of ages ranging downwards from twenty-two to seven. Uncle Dick would readily have let bygones be bygones, but he waited for Trefusia to make the first overture. Possibly Sir Philip had a similar feeling. At any rate neither would make the first advance ; and the result was that ' the two Squires,' as they were called, met, and remained, on terms of haughty coolness. No communication took place between the two houses, though it was whispered that cousin Howard and pretty Edith Trefusis, who had met more than onoe on neutral ground, were not disposed to keep np the family feud for another generation. Such being the state of things, the earnest appeal of our good old vioar was not difficult of application ; and many eyes were turned npon the two Squires to see in what spirit they received this public admonition. There was a touch of heightened color upon uncle Dick's 'handsome sun-burned face as he stepped forth into the churchyard, the very model of a gallant English gentleman, dispensing hearty hand-shakes and kindly Christmas greetings to friend and neighbour. Close behind him came Sir Philip Trefusis, hia daughter hanging on his arm. At the lychgate uncle Dick stepped aside to let them pass. With kindly eyes he looked straight at Sir Philip, and we felt instinctively that with him at least Mr Pentreath's appeal had not missed its mark, and that at the slightest answering sign his hand would have been outstretched with generous cordiality. Whether Sir Philip saw the look I know not ; but his daughter did, and an expression of pain came into her sweet eyes as he strode on, proud and silent, and the opportunity for a reconciliation had once more passed away. (To he continued )