The evening of the first day that marked the stranger's advent into Westminster saw the entire _personnel_ of Harmony Place on the veranda; the new moon smiled benignly upon them, the evening was cool and the "ripe harvest of the new-mown hay" gave to the air a "sweet and wholesome odor." One subject after another was taken up, discussed and disposed of, or at least laid aside to give way to some other, and in each and all of them our hero (for such we may as well commence to recognize him) took a part, and exhibited a fund of information and an aptitude of presentation which gave him the preference without a contest whenever he chose to speak. This became more and more frequent as the night wore on, for there was no disguising the fact that he was, like the others, already one of the household. If any one of the party wondered what it was that he had come for, how he expected to get it, or how long he was to stay, the conjecture never found expression; for they all experienced so much of general satisfaction in hearing him, and took such genuine pleasure in his word-painting of western scenes and events, that they were all willing to have him stay indefinitely. He was literally chosen as one of their number without opposition, and the mere matters of detail regarding his purposes might be left to the future or be entirely undiscovered; he was now decidedly the architect of his own fortune so far as retaining the good will of that little group was concerned. The conversation proceeded from point to point until the topics of the quiet gathering assumed more the aspect of an intellectual _melange_ than anything else; the Sepoy rebellion made way for the Dakota blizzard, the signal failure of the first laying of the Atlantic cable was shelved to make place for Webster's artistic destruction of Dr. Parkman, and Cromwell's career of conquests and crimes was followed by a brief discussion of the science and practice of silver mining. (Variety and scope enough, surely!) It must be noticeable that the two subjects which agitate us nationally and sometimes locally more than any others--politics and religion--had so far escaped; they had not, however, been unthought of, and presently the latter was begun by the minister saying: "Representing to some extent as I do, the church, I am compelled to admit that in the matters of organization, discipline and places of worship, America is thoroughly Christianized. Look at the profusion of church buildings wherever you go. To me such rivalry is gratifying in the extreme, representing as it does the highest type of good citizenship." "I partially concur with you," said the lawyer, "and yet I belong to no church at all--do not, in fact, endorse Christianity as a department of civilized life." "Why, how is this?" said Fitzallen, "I thought nearly everybody in this country must be orthodox to some extent at least."