The Adjutant believed in the doctrine of her beloved Founder, and had said to her soldiers, 'We must go for souls, and go for the worst;' but the idea of filling the beautiful hall with drunken scallywags horrified not a few of the respectable Salvationists. Nevertheless, the need was pleaded, the interest of the band enlisted; a notorious character, saved from a life of sin, was coming from another corps to give his story; a startling bill inviting all to come, drunk or sober; a livener provided free, was well distributed by a band of scouts who had caught the spirit of the effort. Drunkards were visited and invited to the meeting. The band was ready to start, and the Captain prayed God's help as they went out to seek the lost. Even in that fashionable resort were to be found haunts of sin and misery. Slumdom was stirred that midnight as the cheery music peeled forth; the boozer laid down his glass and rushed to the door of the saloon to see what could be happening at such an hour. As he rolled out on to the sidewalk, he found his arms entwined in that of one of the scouts who followed the march and mingled with the crowd. The soldiers forgot their fear, their souls stirred in the glory of a desperate attack upon sin, and even the bandsmen as they played their instruments, were observed arming sundry drunks along to the hall. What a motley crew was gathered in! One to thrill the heart of every true Salvationist; just the people that The Army exists to save. Five or six hundred men and women drawn from the saloon, brought under the influence of the Gospel, even for one hour, is an achievement not to be despised. What could one do with such a crowd in all stages of intoxication? some might query. Picture the scene. A livener, a cup of coffee and cake, is supplied. Music and song peal forth to drown drunken brawls. Presently there is a lull, the men are becoming sobered and are called to attention. A sister sings sweetly of mother and God. The name of an ex-drunkard is mentioned, and the crowd cheers as he stands forth to testify. He tells how drink cursed his life, and how God has changed him. A hush steals over the meeting as the Adjutant rises with God's Word in hand, and calls for reverence if only for seven minutes! A great giant of a man, standing up, waves his heavy first and declares, 'I'll fling out the first man that speaks; listen to the Captain!' How they listened! Now there is a move, a man is pushing his way through his mates; he throws himself at the penitent-form and crys, 'O God, make me like Bill!' He had looked upon his old mate; listened to his testimony, and realized the wonderful change, a living miracle! He did not understand; the meaning of conversion was as foreign to him as to a heathen, but he wanted that something to happen to him that had happened to his mate Bill.