ecimated, 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 _eglise_,
no _veritable eglise_, in Templeton?"

"Oh, yes, Madame, several," returned Aristabulus, who would as soon
think of admitting that he did not understand the meaning of
_veritable eglise_, 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 Doolit