The secretary's report of the state of the Association's finances is read to the audience; some monotonous and endless hymns are sung; and an edifying conference follows, showing the flourishing condition of the society, and the benefits it confers upon humanity in general, and its ministers in particular. The meeting then breaks up, and at the door, little groups are formed, a great deal of hand-shaking goes on, accompanied with felicitations on the subject of the success of the good cause. Here is a sample conversation that I caught one day in passing, and which I give word for word:-- 1st _Cherub_ (male).--"How do you do, Mrs. Jones? Are you pooty well?" 2nd _Cherub_ (female).--"Pooty well, thank you; are you pooty well?" 1st _Cherub_.--"Pooty well. How is dear Miss Evans? Is she pooty well?" 3rd _Cherub_ (female).--"Not very well; she has such a bad cold!" 4th _Cherub_ (male).--"Has she really? This is a dreary world, is it not? Dear soul, I hope she will take care of herself." 5th _Cherub_ (female).--"Glorious meeting, was it not?" _Chorus._--"Glorious, indeed!" I make my way to the door of the Hall. The entrance and lobby are covered with advertisements: the programmes of the performances. In this steeple-chase of people, who know how to believe in God and make a snug little income out of it, it is the General of the Salvation Army that carries off the palm: he announces assets to the amount of over 350,000 pounds sterling, and an army of 500,000 soldiers, male and female, well disciplined, and devoted to the cause. He has outshone Messrs. Moody and Sankey, the American evangelists, who, in 1875, were preaching every evening to London audiences of thirty and forty thousand persons, and that for months running! It is all over. Mr. Sankey accompanies himself on a harmonium; the general has big drums, cymbals and trombones; long live the general! Since the imprisonment of Miss Booth, in Switzerland, the shares of the Salvation Army have gone up steadily: there is no more lucrative profession than that of a martyr, when it is properly carried out ... and the "General" knows how to _battre la caisse et la remplir_. As in this weary world, people do not live on the word of life alone, Exeter Hall keeps a restaurant. I notice the bill of fare, posted up at the door. This bill of fare fills my soul with sadness and regret. My illusions vanish; I am no longer in paradise. I had expected something in this way:-- _Potage alleluia aux flageolets_, _Petit Agneau sauce Pénitence_, _Haricots bon jeune homme_, _Lentilles sauce Esaü_, _Crême à la Vertu_, _Soufflé aux petits Anges_, _Paradise pudding_. But I was doomed to be disappointed. VIII. The Boas of the Aristocracy--The prettiest Women in London--Shop girls--Barmaids--Actresses and Supernumeraries--Miss Mary Anderson.