remembrance of him, but this could not be attained until the clever
national schoolmaster of the village suggested that an engraving should
be made from a photograph. You cannot go into one cottage or one
farm-house on the whole of the estate without finding an engraved
portrait of the splendid old man hung in a place of honour.




THE VILLAGE PREACHER.


The Methodists got a very strong hold in seaside places at the end of
the last century, but during the long pressure of the great War the
claims of religion were somewhat forgotten. Smuggling went on to an
extraordinary extent and the consequent demoralisation was very
apparent. The strict morality which the stern Methodists of the old
school taught had been broken, and some of the villages were little
better than nests of pirates. The decent people who lived inland were
continually molested by marauding ruffians who came from seaside
places, and to call a man a "fisher," was to label him with a term of
reproach.

On Saturday nights every Fisher Row was a scene of drunken turmoil, and
on Sunday the men lounged about drinking, the women scolding, while the
old-fashioned simplicity of life seemed to be forgotten altogether.

Grave countrymen shook their heads over the terrible change. Our village
had become notorious for bad behaviour, and the old man who tried to
keep up the traditions of religion was much distressed in his mind.