"It is the spot, I came to seek, My father's ancient burial place--
"It is the spot--I know it well, Of which our old traditions tell."
BRYANT.
From the day after their arrival in New-York, or that on which the
account of the arrests by the English cruiser had appeared in the
journals, little had been said by any of our party concerning Paul
Powis, or of the extraordinary manner in which he had left the
packet, at the very moment she was about to enter her haven. It is
true that Mr. Dodge, arrived at Dodgeopolis, had dilated on the
subject in his hebdomadal, with divers additions and conjectures of
his own, and this, too, in a way to attract, a good deal of attention
in the interior; but, it being a rule with those who are supposed to
dwell at the fountain of foreign intelligence, not to receive any
thing from those who ought not to be better informed than themselves,
the Effinghams and their friends had never heard of his account of
the matter.
While all thought the incident of the sudden return extraordinary, no
one felt disposed to judge the young man harshly. The gentlemen knew
that military censure, however unpleasant, did not always imply moral
unworthiness; and as for the ladies, they retained too lively a sense
of his skill and gallantry, to wish to imagine evil on grounds so
slight and vague. Still, it had been impossible altogether to prevent
the obtrusion of disagreeable surmises, and all now sincerely
rejoiced at seeing their late companion once more among them,
seemingly in a state of mind that announced neither guilt nor
degradation.
On quitting the mountain, Mr. Effingham, who had a tender regard for
Grace, offered her his arm as he would have given it to a second
daughter, leaving Eve to the care of John Effingham. Sir George
attended to Mademoiselle Viefville, and Paul walked by the side of
our heroine and her cousin, leaving Aristabulus to be what he himself
called a "miscellaneous companion;" or, in other words, to thrust
himself into either set, as inclination or accident might induce. Of
course the parties conversed as they walked, though those in advance
would occasionally pause to say a word to those in the rear; and, as
they descended, one or two changes occurred to which we may have
occasion to allude.
"I trust you have had pleasant passages," said John Effingham to
Paul, as soon as they were separated in the manner just mentioned.
"Three trips across the Atlantic in so short a time would be hard
duty to a landsman, though you, as a sailor, will probably think less
of it."
"In this respect I have been fortunate; the Foam, as we know from
experience, being a good traveller, and Ducie is altogether a fine
fellow and an agreeable messmate. You know I had him for a companion
both going and coming."
This was said naturally; and, while it explained so little directly,
it removed all unpleasant uncertainty, by assuring his listeners that
he had been on good terms at least, with the person who had seemed to
be his pursuer. John Effingham, too, well understood that no one
messed with the commander of a vessel of war, in his own ship, who
was, in any way, thought to be an unfit associate.
"You have made a material circuit to reach us, the distance by Quebec
being nearly a fourth more than the direct road."
"Ducie desired it so strongly, that I did not like to deny him.
Indeed, he made it a point, at first, to obtain permission to land me
at New-York, where he had found me, as he said; but to this I would
not listen, as I feared it might interfere with his promotion, of
which he stood so good a chance, in consequence of his success in the
affair of the money. By keeping constantly before the eyes of his
superiors, on duty of interest, I thought his success would be more
certain."
"And has his government thought his perseverance in the chase worthy
of such a reward?"
"Indeed it has. He is now a post, and all owing to his good luck and
judgment in that affair; though in his country, rank in private life
does no harm to one in public life."
Eve liked the emphasis that Paul laid on "his country," and she
thought the whole remark was made in a spirit that an Englishman
would not be apt to betray.
"Has it ever occurred to you," continued John Effingham, "that our
sudden and unexpected separation, has caused a grave neglect of duty
in me, if not in both of us?"
Paul looked surprised, and, by his manner, he demanded an
explanation.
"You may remember the sealed package of poor Mr. Monday, that we were
to open together on our arrival in New-York, and on the contents of
which, we were taught to believe depended the settling of some
important private rights. I gave that package to you, at the moment
it was received, and, in the hurry of leaving us, you overlooked the
circumstance."
"All very true, and to my shame I confess that, until this instant,
the affair has been quite forgotten by me. I had so much to occupy my
mind while in England, that it was not likely to be remembered, and
then the packet itself has scarce been in my possession since the day
I left you,"
"It is not lost, I trust!" said John Effingham quickly.
"Surely not--it is safe, beyond a question, in the writing-desk in
which I deposited it. But the moment we got to Portsmouth, Ducie and
myself proceeded to London together, and, as soon as he had got
through at the Admiralty, we went into Yorkshire, where we remained,
much occupied with private matters of great importance to us both,
while his ship was docked; and then it became necessary to make
sundry visits to our relations--"
"Relations!" repeated Eve involuntarily, though she did not cease to
reproach herself for the indiscretion, during the rest of the walk.
"Relations--" returned Paul, smiling. "Captain Ducie and myself are
cousins-german, and we made pilgrimages together, to sundry family
shrines. This duty occupied us until a few days before we sailed for
Quebec. On reaching our haven, I left the ship to visit the great
lakes and Niagara, leaving most of my effects with Ducie, who has
promised to bring them on with himself, when he followed on my track,
as he expected soon to do, on his way to the West Indies, where he is
to find a frigate. He owed me this attention, as he insisted, on
account of having induced me to go so far out of my way, with so much
luggage, to oblige him. The packet is, unluckily, left behind with
the other things."
"And do you expect Captain Ducie to arrive in this country soon?--The
affair of the packet ought not to be neglected much longer, for a
promise to a dying man is doubly binding, as it appeals to all our
generosity. Rather than neglect the matter much longer, I would
prefer sending a special messenger to Quebec."
"That will be quite unnecessary, as, indeed, it would be useless.
Ducie left Quebec yesterday, and has sent his and my effects direct
to New-York, under the care of his own steward. The writing-case,
containing other papers that are of interest to us both, he has
promised not to lose sight of, but it will accompany him on the same
tour, as that I have just made; for, he wishes to avail himself of
this opportunity to see Niagara and the lakes, also: he is now on my
track, and will notify me by letter of the day he will be in Utica,
in order that we may meet on the line of the canal, near this place,
and proceed to New-York, in company."
His companions listened to this brief statement with an intense
interest, with which the packet of poor Mr. Monday, however, had very
little connection. John Effingham called to his cousin, and, in a few
words, stated the circumstances as they had just been related to
himself, without adverting to the papers of Mr. Monday, which was an
affair that he had hitherto kept to himself.
"It will be no more than a return of civility, if we invite Captain
Ducie to diverge from his road, and pass a few days with us, in the
mountains," he added. "At what precise time do you expect him to
pass, Powis?"
"Within the fortnight. I feel certain he would be glad to pay his
respects to this party, for he often expressed his sincere regrets at
having been employed on a service that exposed the ladies to so much
peril and delay."
"Captain Ducie is a near kinsman of Mr. Powis, dear father," added
Eve, in a way to show her parent, that the invitation would be
agreeable to herself, for Mr. Effingham was so attentive to the
wishes of his daughter, as never to ask a guest to his house, that he
thought would prove disagreeable to its mistress.
"I shall do myself the pleasure to write to Captain Ducie, this
evening, urging him to honour us with his company," returned Mr.
Effingham. "We expect other friends in a few days, and I hope he will
not find his time heavy on his hands, while in exile among us. Mr.
Powis will enclose my note in one of his letters, and will, I trust,
second the request by his own solicitations."
Paul made his acknowledgments, and the whole party proceeded, though
the interruption caused such a change in the _figure_ of the
promenade, as to leave the young man the immediate escort of Eve. The
party, by this time, had not only reached the highway, but it had
again diverged from it, to follow the line of an old and abandoned
wheel-track, that descended the mountain, along the side of the
declivity, by a wilder and more perilous direction than suited a
modern enterprise; it having been one of those little calculated and
rude roads, that the first settlers of a country are apt to make,
before there are time and means to investigate and finish to
advantage. Although much more difficult and dangerous than its
successor, as a highway, this relic of the infant condition of the
country was by far the most retired and beautiful; and pedestrians
continued to use it, as a common foot-path to the Vision. The seasons
had narrowed its surface, and the second growth had nearly covered it
with their branches, shading it like an arbour; and Eve expressed her
delight with its wildness and boldness, mingled, as both were, with
so pleasant a seclusion, as they descended along a path as safe and
convenient as a French _allée_. Glimpses were constantly obtained of
the lake and the village, while they proceeded; and altogether, they
who were strangers to the scenery, were loud in its praises.
"Most persons, who see this valley for the first time," observed
Aristabulus, "find something to say in its favour; for my part, I
consider it as rather curious myself."
"Curious!" exclaimed Paul; "that gentleman is, at least, singular in
the choice of his expressions."
"You have met him before to-day," said Eve, laughing, for Eve was now
in a humour to laugh at trifles. "This we know, since he had prepared
us to meet a poet, where we only find an old friend."
"Only, Miss Effingham!--Do you estimate poets so high, and old
friends so low?"
"This extraordinary person, Mr. Aristabulus Bragg, really deranges
all one's notions and opinions in such a manner, as to destroy even
the usual signification of words, I believe. He seems so much in, and
yet so much out of his place; is both so _rusé_, and so unpractised;
so unfit for what he is, and so ready at every thing, that I scarcely
know how to apply terms in any matter with which he has the smallest
connection. I fear he has persecuted you since your arrival in
Templeton?"
"Not at all; I am so much acquainted with men of his cast, that I
have acquired a tact in managing them. Perceiving that he was
disposed to suspect me of a disposition to 'poetize the lake,' to use
his own term, I took care to drop a couple of lines, roughly written
off, like a hasty and imperfect effusion, where I felt sure he would
find them, and have been living for a whole week on the fame
thereof."
"You do indulge in such tastes, then?" said Eve smiling a little
saucily.
"I am as innocent of such an ambition, as of wishing to marry the
heiress of the British throne, which, I believe, just now, is the
goal of all the Icaruses of our own time. I am merely a rank
plagiarist--for the rhyme, on the fame of which I have rioted for a
glorious week, was two lines of Pope's, an author so effectually
forgotten in these palmy days of literature, in which all knowledge
seems so condensed into the productions of the last few years, that a
man might almost pass off an entire classic for his own, without the
fear of detection. It was merely the first couplet of the Essay on
Man, which, fortunately, having an allusion to the 'pride of Kings,'
would pass for original, as well as excellent, in nineteen villages
in twenty in America, in these piping times of ultra-republicanism.
No doubt Mr. Bragg thought a eulogy on the 'people' was to come next,
to be succeeded by a glorious picture of Templeton and its environs."
"I do not know that I ought to admit these hits at liberty from a
foreigner," said Eve, pretending to look graver than she felt; for
never before, in her life, had our heroine so strong a consciousness
of happiness, as she had experienced that very morning.
"Foreigner, Miss Effingham!--And why a foreigner?"
"Nay, you know your own pretended cosmopolitism; and ought not the
cousin of Captain Ducie to be an Englishman?"
"I shall not answer for the _ought_, the simple fact being a
sufficient reply to the question. The cousin of Captain Ducie is
_not_ an Englishman; nor, as I see you suspect, has he ever served a
day in the British navy, or in any other navy than that of his native
land."
"This is indeed taking us by surprise, and that most agreeably,"
returned Eve, looking up at him with undisguised pleasure, while a
bright glow crimsoned her face. "We could not but feel an interest in
one who had so effectually served us; and both my father and Mr. John
Effingham----"
"Cousin Jack--" interrupted the smiling Paul.
"Cousin Jack, then, if you dislike the formality I used; both my
father and cousin Jack examined the American navy registers for your
name, without success, as I understood, and the inference that
followed was fair enough, I believe you will admit."
"Had they looked at a register of a few years' date, they would have
met with better luck. I have quitted the service, and am a sailor
only in recollections. For the last few years, like yourselves, I
have been a traveller by land as well as by water."
Eve said no more, though every syllable that the young man uttered
was received by attentive ears, and retained with a scrupulous
fidelity of memory. They walked some distance in silence, until they
reached the grounds of a house that was beautifully placed on the
side of the mountain, near a lovely wood of pines. Crossing these
grounds, until they reached a terrace in front of the dwelling, the
village of Templeton lay directly in their front, perhaps a hundred
feet beneath them, and yet so near, as to render the minutest object
distinct. Here they all stopped to take a more distinct view of a
place that had so much interest with most of the party.
"I hope you are sufficiently acquainted with the localities to act as
cicerone," said Mr. Effingham to Paul. "In a visit of a week to this
village, you have scarcely overlooked the Wigwam."
"Perhaps I ought to hesitate, or rather ought to blush to own it,"
answered the young man, discharging the latter obligation by
colouring to his temples; "but curiosity has proved so much stronger
than manners, that I have been induced to trespass so far on the
politeness of this gentleman, as to gain an admission to your
dwelling, in and about which more of my time has been passed than has
probably proved agreeable to its inmates."
"I hope the gentleman will not speak of it," said Aristabulus. "In
this country, we live pretty much in common, and with me it is a
rule, when a gentleman drops in, whether stranger or neighbour, to
show him the civility to ask him to take off his hat."
"It appears to me," said Eve, willing to change the conversation,
"that Templeton has an unusual number of steeples; for what purpose
can so small a place possibly require so many buildings of that
nature?"
"All in behalf of orthodoxy, Miss Eve," returned Aristabulus, who
conceived himself to be the proper person to answer such
interrogatories. "There is a shade of opinion beneath every one of
those steeples."
"Do you mean, sir, that there are as many shades of faith in
Templeton, as I now see buildings that have the appearance of being
devoted to religious purposes?"
"Double the number, Miss, and some to spare, in the bargain; for you
see but five meeting-houses, and the county-buildings, and we reckon
seven regular hostile denominations in the village, besides the
diversities of sentiment on trifles. This edifice that you perceive
here, in a line with the chimneys of the first house, is New St.
Paul's, Mr. Grant's old church, as orthodox a house, in its way, as
there is in the diocese, as you may see by the windows. This is a
gaining concern, though there has been some falling off of 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."