270 LETTERS TO THE "TIMES." T 



and even I can comprehend them or, to be more 

 modest, I can portray them in such a manner 

 that every lineament, however harsh, and every 

 shade, however dark, can be verified by published 

 evidence. 



Suppose there is a thriving, expanding colonial 

 town, and that, scattered among its artizans and 

 labourers, there is a sprinkling of Methodists, or 

 other such ultra-evangelical good people, doing 

 their best, in a quiet way, to " save souls." Clear- 

 ly, this is an outpost which it is desirable to cap- 

 ture. " We," therefore, take measures to get up 

 a Salvation "boom" of the ordinary pattern. 

 Enthusiasm is roused. A score or two of soldiers 

 are enlisted into the ranks of the Salvation Army. 

 " We " select the man who promises to serve our 

 purposes best, make a " captain " of him, and put 

 him in command of the " corps." He is very 

 pleased and grateful; and indeed he ought to be. 

 All he has done is that he has given up his trade; 

 that he has promised to work at least nine hours 

 a day in our service (none of your eight-hour 

 nonsense for us) as collector, bookseller, general 

 agent, and anything else we may order him to be. 

 " We," on the other hand, guarantee him nothing 

 whatever; to do so might weaken his faith and 

 substitute worldly for spiritual ties between us. 

 Knowing that, if he exerts himself in a right 

 spirit, his labours will surely be blessed, we con- 

 tent ourselves with telling him that if, after all 



