‘According to Walker, City feasting has many advantages. He is of opinion that it creates a good deal of public spirit; as long as men are emboldened by good cheer, they are in no danger of becoming slaves. The City Halls, with their feasts, their music, their associations, are, he says, so many temples of liberty; and I believe that after all Walker was right I speak from experience; and yet there are evils connected with the system.’ ‘Evils!’ exclaimed indignantly his ascetic friend, ‘I believe there are. And last night I saw what I never saw before, and never wish to see again: men dressed in evening costume—respectable people, apparently—all eating and drinking to excess. I hope they all got home, but they could scarcely find their way after dinner to the room where tea and coffee were served up; utterly unable to take a part in any rational conversation.’ ‘Ah, again let me quote Walker!’ exclaimed Wentworth. ‘“Anybody can dine, but few know how to dine so as to ensure the greatest quantity of health and enjoyment.” I am coming to believe that aristology, or the art of dining, has yet to be discovered. When ladies are admitted to these banquets there will, at any rate, be less of that eating and drinking to excess which so disgusted you last night.’ ‘Well, the sooner that good time comes the better,’ said Wentworth’s friend; ‘but we have female feasts in Sloville which do a great deal of harm.’ ‘You amaze me,’ said Wentworth. ‘What do you call the feast?’ ‘The Dorcas. It is a society made up of ladies who belonged to the congregation, and who worked at useful articles to be distributed among the poor, the ladies paying half a crown each to buy the material, and putting threepence into the plate handed round at each meeting, to be devoted to the same purpose. On the night when my wife attended, there was an unusually large attendance. The grocer’s wife believed in a good cup of tea, and butter which was not margarine, and in other dainties which her guests were not slow to appreciate. To her credit be it said that at no other house had the members such a really good tea. On these occasions a good deal of talk took place. ‘Said one, “Where is that Jane Brown?” ‘“Oh,” said another, “she said she could not leave her mother.” ‘“A pretty excuse,” said another. “I’ll be bound to say that if there was any entertainment going on she could manage to leave her mother for that.” ‘“Ah!” said another old lady, with a shake of her head, “girls are not what they used to be. I don’t know what we are coming to.” ‘“Oh, you may well say that,” said the deacon’s wife. “We are living in sad times. It quite grieved me to hear our minister say on Sunday that people believed in Christ. They never did, and they never will. The world will always hate Christ, because of its wickedness. It is only the elect that can be saved. The world, or rather the carnal heart, is always at emnity with God.”