Pocket Island: A Story of Country Life in New EnglandMunn, Charles Clark
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Pocket Island: A Story of Country Life in New England
Munn, Charles Clark
New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
In justice to Parson Jotham it must be said that his intentions were of
the best, no doubt, but his estimate of the motive forces of human
action was too narrow. He believed the only way to win people from vice
to virtue and good conduct was to scare them into it.
In spite of all the denunciations of the other two churches, the new
one, though feeble at first, slowly increased its following. To this one
with their respective parents, came Liddy and Manson. While perhaps not
mature enough to understand the wide distinction between Unitarianism
and Calvinism, they realized a little of the inexpressible horror of
Rev. Mr. Jotham's theories of infant damnation and the like, and were
glad to hear no more of them. Like many other young people to-day, they
accepted their parents' opinions on all such matters as best and wisest.
They were not regular in their church attendance, either, for Liddy
could not always leave her invalid mother, and occasionally she and
Manson found a drive in the summer's woods or a visit to the top of Blue
Hill more alluring than even the Unitarian church. Of similar tastes in
that respect, and both ardent admirers of nature, and loving fields and
flowers, birds and brooks, as the lovers of nature do, they often
worshipped in that broad church. Manson especially, who had from
childhood spent countless hours alone in the forests or roaming over the
hills or along the streams, had learned all the lessons there taught,
and now found Liddy a wonderfully sympathetic and sweet companion. To
spend a few quiet hours on pleasant Sundays in showing her some pretty
cascade where the foam-flecks floated around and around in the pool
below; or a dark gorge, where the roots of the trees along its bank grew
out and over the rocks like the arms of fabled gnomes, was a supreme
delight to him. He knew where every bed of trailing arbutus for miles
around could be found; where sweet flag and checkerberries grew; where
all the shady glens and pretty grottoes were, and to show her all these
charming places and unfold to her his quaint and peculiar ideas about
nature and all things that pertain to the woods and mountains delighted
his heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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