The next day _Ann_ calls a council of war. The learned Professor, _Alfred Calway_; the wise judge, _Sir Thomas Hoxton_; and the professional Christian, _Edward Bertley_--the Canon--are summoned to decide the fate of the three outcasts. There are few scenes in dramatic literature so rich in satire, so deep in the power of analysis as the one in which these eminent gentlemen discuss human destiny. _Canon Bertley_ is emphatic that it is necessary to "remove the temptation and reform the husband of the flower-seller." _Bertley._ Now, what is to be done? _Mrs. Megan._ I could get an unfurnished room, if I'd the money to furnish it. _Bertley._ Never mind the money. What I want to find in you is repentance. Those who are engaged in saving souls cannot be interested in such trifles as money matters, nor to understand the simple truth that if the Megans did not have to bother with making a "livin'," repentance would take care of itself. The other two gentlemen are more worldly, since law and science cannot experiment with such elusive things as the soul. _Professor Calway_ opines that _Timson_ is a congenital case, to be put under observation, while _Judge Hoxton_ decides that he must be sent to prison. _Calway._ Is it, do you think, chronic unemployment with a vagrant tendency? Or would it be nearer the mark to say: Vagrancy-- ... Dipsomaniac?... By the look of his face, as far as one can see it, I should say there was a leaning towards mania. I know the treatment. _Hoxton._ Hundreds of these fellows before me in my time. The only thing is a sharp lesson! _Calway._ I disagree. I've seen the man; what he requires is steady control, and the Dobbins treatment. _Hoxton._ Not a bit of it! He wants one for his knob! Bracing him up! It's the only thing! _Calway._ You're moving backwards, Sir Thomas. I've told you before, convinced reactionaryism, in these days--The merest sense of continuity--a simple instinct for order-- _Hoxton._ The only way to get order, sir, is to bring the disorderly up with a round turn. You people without practical experience-- _Calway._ The question is a much wider one, Sir Thomas. _Hoxton._ No, sir, I repeat, if the country once commits itself to your views of reform, it's as good as doomed. _Calway._ I seem to have heard that before, Sir Thomas. And let me say at once that your hitty-missy cart-load of bricks régime-- _Hoxton._ Is a deuced sight better, sir, than your grandmotherly methods. What the old fellow wants is a shock! With all this socialistic molly-coddling, you're losing sight of the individual. _Calway._ You, sir, with your "devil take the hindmost," have never seen him. The farce ends by each one insisting on the superiority of his own pet theory, while misery continues to stalk white-faced through the streets.