t remark.

"He's an awfully good chap, to be sure, but just a bit set in his way.
I fancy he has some odd notions. Well, perhaps I shall be able to put
him right, if I am patient and friendly. It is rather plain that I
shall have a lot of missionary work to do here among these dissenters."

So he turned to his bookshelves and took down a volume on _The
Primitive Diaconate and the Reconstruction of Christendom_. Meantime
Hopkins was in his study making notes for a series of sermons on "The
Scriptural Polity of the Early New England Churches."

Well, you can see from this how the great Leviathan conflict began. Two
men meeting with good intentions, both anxious, even determined, to be
the best of friends, yet each unconsciously pressing upon the other the
only point of difference between them. Now add to this a pair of
consciences aggravated by the sense of official responsibilities, and a
number of ladies who were alike in cherishing for one or the other of
these two men a warm admiration, amounting in several cases, shall I
say, to a sentimental adoration, and you have a collection of materials
not altogether favourable to a peaceful combination.

My business, however, is with Leviathan, and therefore I do not propose
to narrate the development of the rivalry between these two excellent
men. How Mr. Jones introduced an early morning service, and Mr. Hopkins
replied with an afternoon musical vespers: how a vested choir of boys
was installed in the brown church, and a cornet and a harp appeared in
the gallery of the white church: how candles were lighted in the
Episcopalian apse, (whereupon Erastus Whipple resigned from the vestry
because he said he knew that he was "goin' to act ugly"), and a
stereopticon threw illuminated pictures of Palestine upon the wall
behind the Congregational pulpit (which induced Abijah Lemon to refuse
to pass the plate the next Sunday, because he said he "wa'nt goin' to
take up no collection for a peep-show in meetin'"): how a sermon beside
the graveyard on "the martyrdom of King Charles I," was followed, on
the green, by a discourse on "the treachery of Charles II": how Mrs.
Slicer and Mrs. Cutter crossed each other in the transfer of their
church relations, because the Slicer boys were not asked to sing in the
vested choir, and because Orlando Cutter was displaced as cornetist by
a young man from Hitchfield: how the Jonesites learned to speak of
themselves as "churchmen" and of their neigh