The Shelters are all very well when a man is down in his luck. They have been a good thing for us; in fact, had it not been for them, we would still have been without a friend, sleeping on the Embankment, getting our living dishonestly, or not getting a living at all. We have now got work, and want a bed to sleep on, and a room to ourselves, and a box, or something where we can stow away our bits of things. Cannot you do something for us?" We have replied that there were Lodging-houses elsewhere, which, now that they were in work, they could afford to pay for, where they would obtain the comfort they desired. To this they answer, "That is all very well. We know there are these places, and that we could go to them. But then," they said, "you see, here in the Shelters are our mates, who think as we do. And there is the prayer, and the meeting, and kind influence every night, that helps to keep us straight. We would like a better place, but if you cannot find us one we would rather stop in the Shelter and sleep on the floor, as we have been doing, than go to something more complete, get into bad company, and so fall back again to where we were before." But this, although natural, is not desirable; for, if the process went on, in course of time the whole of the Shelter Depots would be taken up by persons who had risen above the class for whom they were originally destined. I propose, therefore, to draft those who get on, but wish to continue in connection with the Army, into a superior lodging-house, a sort of POOR MAN'S METROPOLE, managed on the same principles, but with better accommodation in every way, which, I anticipate, would be self-supporting from the first. In these homes there would be separate dormitories, good sitting-rooms, cooking conveniences, baths, a hall for meetings, and many other comforts, of which all would have the benefit at as low a figure above cost price as will not only pay interest on the original outlay, but secure us against any shrinkage of capital.