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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » Home as Found by James Fenimore Cooper (books to read as a couple .TXT) 📖

Book online «Home as Found by James Fenimore Cooper (books to read as a couple .TXT) 📖». Author James Fenimore Cooper



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late, in consequence of the clergyman's having caught a bad cold, which has made him a little hoarse; but I dare say he will get over it, and the church ought not to be abandoned on that account, serious as the matter undoubtedly is, for the moment. A few of us are determined to back up New St. Paul's in this crisis, and I make it a point to go there myself, quite half the time."

"I am glad we have so much of your company," said Mr. Effingham "for that is our own church, and in it my daughter was baptized. But, do you divide your religious opinions in halves, Mr. Bragg?"

"In as many parts, Mr. Effingham, as there are denominations in the neighbourhood, giving a decided preference to New St. Paul's, notwithstanding, under the peculiar circumstances, particularly to the windows. The dark, gloomy-looking building, Miss, off in the distance, yonder, is the Methodist affair, of which not much need be said; Methodism flourishing but little among us since the introduction of the New Lights, who have fairly managed to out-excite them, on every plan they can invent. I believe, however, they stick pretty much to the old doctrine, which, no doubt, is one great reason of their present apathetic state; for the people do love novelties."

"Pray, sir, what building is this nearly in a line with New St. Paul's, and which resembles it a little, in colour and form?"

"Windows excepted; it has two rows of regular square-topped windows, Miss, as you may observe. That is the First Presbyterian, or the old standard; a very good house, and a pretty good faith, too, as times go. I make it a point to attend there, at least once every fortnight; for change is agreeable to the nature of man. I will say, Miss, that my preference, so far as I have any, however, is for New St. Paul's, and I have experienced considerable regrets, that these Presbyterians have gained a material advantage over us, in a very essential point, lately."

"I am sorry to hear this, Mr. Bragg; for, being an Episcopalian myself, and having great reliance on the antiquity and purity of my church, I should be sorry to find it put in the wrong by any other."

"I fear we must give that point up, notwithstanding, for these Presbyterians have entirely outwitted the church people in that matter."

"And what is the point in which we have been so signally worsted?"

"Why, Miss, their new bell weighs quite a hundred more than that of New St. Paul's, and has altogether the best sound. I know very well that this advantage will not avail them any thing to boast of, in the last great account; but it makes a surprising difference in the state of probation. You see the yellowish looking building across the valley, with a heavy wall around it, and a belfry? That, in its regular character, is the county court-house, and gaol; but, in the way of religion, it is used pretty much miscellaneously."

"Do you mean, really, sir, that divine service is ever actually performed in it, or that persons of all denominations are occasionally tried there?"

"It would be truer to say that all denominations occasionally try the court-house," said Aristabulus, simpering; "for I believe it has been used in this way by every shade of religion short of the Jews. The Gothic tower in wood, is the building of the Universalists; and the Grecian edifice, that is not yet painted, the Baptists. The Quakers, I believe, worship chiefly at home, and the different shades of the Presbyterians meet, in different rooms, in private houses, about the place."

"Are there then shades of difference in the denominations, as well as all these denominations?" asked Eve, in unfeigned surprise; "and this, too, in a population so small?"

"This is a free county, Miss Eve, and freedom loves variety. 'Many men, many minds.'"

"Quite true, sir," said Paul; "but here are many minds among few men. Nor is this all; agreeably to your own account, some of these men do not exactly know their own minds. But, can you explain to us what essential points are involved in all these shades of opinion?"

"It would require a life, sir, to understand the half of them. Some say that excitement is religion, and others, that it is contentment. One set cries up practice, and another cries out against it. This man maintains that he will be saved if he does good, and that man affirms that if he only does good, he will be damned; a little evil is necessary to salvation, with one shade of opinion, while another thinks a man is never so near conversion as when he is deepest in sin."

"Subdivision is the order of the day," added John Effingham; "every county is to be subdivided that there may be more county towns, and county offices; every religion decimated, that there may be a greater variety and a better quality of saints."

Aristabulus nodded his head, and he would have winked, could he have presumed to take such a liberty with a man he held as much in habitual awe, as John Effingham.

" Monsieur ," inquired Mademoiselle Viefville, "is there no église , no véritable église , in Templeton?"

"Oh, yes, Madame, several," returned Aristabulus, who would as soon think of admitting that he did not understand the meaning of véritable église , as one of the sects he had been describing would think of admitting that it was not infallible in its interpretation of Christianity--"several; but they are not be seen from this particular spot."

"How much more picturesque would it be, and even christian-like in appearance, at least," said Paul, could these good people consent to unite in worshipping God!--and how much does it bring into strong relief, the feebleness and ignorance of man, when you see him splitting hairs about doctrines, under which he has been told, in terms as plain as language can make it, that he is simply required to believe in the goodness and power of a Being whose nature and agencies exceed his comprehension."

"All very true," cried John Effingham, "but what would become of liberty of conscience in such a case? Most men, now-a-days, understand by faith, a firm reliance on their own opinions!"

"In that case, too," put in Aristabulus, "we should want this handsome display of churches to adorn our village. There is good comes of it; for any man would be more likely to invest in a place that has five churches, than in a place with but one. As it is, Templeton has as beautiful a set of churches as any village I know."

"Say, rather, sir, a set of castors; for a stronger resemblance to vinegar-cruets and mustard-pots, than is borne by these architectural prodigies, eye never beheld."

"It is, nevertheless, a beautiful thing, to see the high pointed roof of the house of God, crowning an assemblage of houses, as one finds it in other countries," said Eve, "instead of a pile of tavern, as is too much the case in this dear home of ours."

When this remark was uttered, they descended the step that led from the terrace, and proceeded towards the village. On reaching the gate of the Wigwam, the whole party stood confronted with that offspring of John Effingham's taste; for so great had been his improvements on the original production of Hiram Doolittle, that externally, at least, that distinguished architect could no longer have recognized the fruits of his own talents.

"This is carrying out to the full, John, the conceits of the composite order," observed Mr. Effingham, drily.

"I shall be sorry, Ned, if you dislike your house, as it is amended and corrected."

"Dear cousin Jack," cried Eve, "it is an odd jumble of the Grecian and Gothic. One would like to know your authorities for such a liberty."

"What do you think of the façade of the cathedral of Milan, Miss," laying emphasis on the last words, in imitation of the manner of Mr. Bragg. "Is it such a novelty to see the two styles blended; or is architecture so pure in America, that you think I have committed the unpardonable sin."

"Nay, nothing that is out of rule ought to strike one, in a country where imitation governs in all things immaterial, and originality unsettles all things sacred and dear."

"By way of punishment for that bold speech, I wish I had left the old rookery in the state I found it, that its beauties might have greeted your eyes, instead of this uncouth pile, which seems so much to offend them. Mademoiselle Viefville, permit me to ask how you like that house?"

" Mais, c'est un petit chateau "

" Un château, Effinghamisé, " said Eve, laughing.

" Effinghamisé si vous voulez, ma chère; pourtant c'est un château ."

"The general opinion in this part of the country is," said Aristabulus, "that Mr. John Effingham has altered the building on the plan of some edifice of Europe, though I forget the name of the particular temple; it is not, however, the Parthenon, nor the temple of Minerva."

"I hope, at least," said Mr. Effingham, leading the way up a little lawn, "it will not turn out to be the Temple of the Winds."

Chapter XI.

"Nay, I'll come; if I lose a scruple of this sport, let me be oiled
to death with melancholy."--SHAKSPEARE.

The progress of society in America, has been distinguished by several peculiarities that do not so properly belong to the more regular and methodical advances of civilization in other parts of the world. On the one hand, the arts of life, like Minerva, who was struck out of the intellectual being of her father at a blow, have started full- grown into existence, as the legitimate inheritance of the colonists, while, on the other, every thing tends towards settling down into a medium, as regards quality, a consequence of the community-character of the institutions. Every thing she had seen that day, had struck Eve as partaking of this mixed nature, in which, while nothing was vulgar, little even approached to that high standard, that her European education had taught her to esteem perfect. In the Wigwam, however, as her father's cousin had seen fit to name the family dwelling, there was more of keeping, and a closer attention to the many little things she had been accustomed to consider essential to comfort and elegance, and she was better satisfied with her future home, than with most she had seen since her return to America.

As we have described the interior of this house, in another work, little remains to be said on the subject, at present; for, while John Effingham had completely altered its external appearance, its internal was not much changed. It is true, the cloud-coloured covering had disappeared, as had that stoop also, the columns of which were so nobly upheld by their super-structure; the former having given place to a less obtrusive roof, that was regularly embattled, and the latter having been swallowed up by a small entrance tower, that the new architect had contrived to attach to the building with quite as much advantage to it, in the way of comfort, as in the way of appearance. In truth, the Wigwam had none of the more familiar features of a modern American dwelling of its class. There was not a column about it, whether Grecian, Roman, or Egyptian; no Venetian blinds; no verandah or piazza; no outside paint, nor gay blending of colours. On the contrary, it was a
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