f a similar age were evidently
excluded, and were regaling themselves with pagan sports outside. The
hall was partially filled with respectable-looking mechanics, their
wives, and families, there being more wives than mechanics, and more
families than either. Children abounded, especially babies in every
stage of infantile development. Many were taking their maternal tea; and
the boys and girls were got up in the most festive attire, the boys
particularly shining with yellow soap. Most of the mammas wore perky
hats, and many had follow-me-lads down the back, but all were
exceedingly well-dressed and well-behaved, though evidently brimful of
hilarity as well as cake and tea.

At the end of the hall was the inevitable platform, with chairs and a
large cushion spread over the front rail for convenience of praying;
since the "experiences" were to be interspersed with sacred song and
prayer. Two gentlemen--I use the term advisedly--mounted the rostrum,
one a long-bearded, middle-aged man, in a frock coat, who was the
pastor, and another an aged minister, superannuated, as I afterwards
discovered, and not altogether happy in his worldly lot. He was very
old, grey-haired, and feeble, with a worn suit of clerical black, and a
voluminous white tie. He sat humbly, almost despondingly, by the side of
his younger brother in the ministry, while the latter delivered a merry
little opening address, hoping all had made a good tea; if not, there
was still about half a can left. Nobody wanted any more; so they had a
hymn from the "Sacred Songster," a copy of which volume I purchased in
the hall for twopence halfpenny. The tune was a martial one, well sung
by a choir of men and women to the accompaniment of a harmonium, and
bravely borne part in, you may depend upon it, by the whole assembly, I
verily believe, except the babies, and one or two of these put in a note
sometimes. The hymn was called, "Oh, we are Volunteers!" and was very
Church-militant indeed, beginning thus:--

Oh, we are volunteers in the army of the Lord,
Forming into line at our Captain's word;
We are under marching orders to take the battle-field,
And we'll ne'er give o'er the fight till the foe shall yield.

Then came the chorus, repeated after every verse:--

Come and join the army, the army of the Lord,
Jesus is our Captain, we rally at His word:
Sharp will be the conflict with the powers of sin,
But with such a leader we are sur