_Saint Peter._--"A more virtuous people never existed on earth, madam; it is virtue put into practice that we reward here, and not fine-sounding theories. In our eyes, he who has given a drop of water and a morsel of bread to a poor fellow-creature is more worthy than he who has discovered a new interpretation of the Holy Scriptures. He who has done a good deed without ostentation, stands higher here than he who has sounded a trumpet, and gone to publish his virtue in the streets and temples. But I should only be wasting time if I tried to explain these things, which do not seem to be in your line. Consider yourselves very fortunate not to be turned out of doors with your trumpets, your drums, and all your noisy and warlike trappings ... and I will trouble you to pass on into the gardens to repose yourselves after your journey, and meditate upon the indulgence of...." _Mrs. B._--"Well, this is the climax! A sermon to me...! (_to her companions_): Let us go in, my friends; and we must have patience, I suppose. The General cannot fail to be here before very long. We will then form a committee, and call an immense meeting of all the English people that are here ... we will see if it is not possible to place the keys of Paradise in better hands. (_To Saint Peter_): _Au revoir_, Saint Peter, we shall meet again." * * * * * While this little scene had been passing at the entrance of Paradise, two of our old friends had just met at the corner of one of the prettiest groves in the realms of the elect. _Mrs. Goodman._--"My dear Bartie! It is you, at last!" _The Reverend B. Goodman._--"Ah! my love, you here! How good it is to see a face one recognises! Come and sit with me a little on this seat. (_They sit down._) What a lot you must have to tell me!... Well?" _Mrs. G._--"Well?" _Rev. B. G._--"What a disenchantment, eh!" _Mrs. G._--"If we had only known!" _Rev. B. G._--"If we could only send a messenger down to tell all those worthy people!" _Mrs. G._--"Well! and how about your theory of the ten tribes found? To hear you talk, my poor Bartie, there was going to be no room here for anybody but ourselves...." _Rev. B. G._--"I can't make it out at all; it bewilders me. Just fancy, my dear, I arrived here last week in the company of a bishop. At the gate, Saint Peter asked us for our names and qualifications. I was not long getting through mine, of course; then up speaks the bishop, in his finest tones, and says: 'John Thomas, lord-bishop of * * *' 'Bishop!' replies Saint Peter, 'well ... never mind, you may come in all the same.' Now, what do you think of that _all the same_?" _Mrs. G._--"Insolent in the extreme. Ah! my dear, that's nothing.... Ever since I have been here, I have had constant mortifications; my nerves are irritated every moment by what I see and hear--it is to be hoped I shall get used to it--but it is very trying.... Turn this way." _Rev. B. G._--"What for?"