e sheets. If I were a Fallen Brother, I
hardly think they would have tempted me from a life of ease. And there
were RULES.... Oh, how I loathe RULES! I loathed them as a child at
school. I loathed drill, and I loathed compulsory games, and I loathed
all laws that were made without purpose. There were long printed lists
of Rules in this place, framed, and hung in each room. You can never
believe how many things a Fallen Sister may not do. Certain rules are,
of course, essential; but the pedagogic mind, once started on
law-making, can never stop; and it is usually the pedagogic type of
mind, with the lust for correction, that goes in for Charity. Why may
not the girls talk in certain rooms? Why may they not read anything but
the books provided? Why may they not talk in bed? Why must they fold
their bed-clothes in such-and-such an exact way? Why must they not
descend from the bed-room as and when they are dressed? Why must they
let the Superior read their letters? And why, oh, why are these places
run by white-faced men and elderly, hard women?

I have written, I fear, rather flippantly on this topic; but that is
only because I dare not trust myself to be serious. I realize as much as
any one that the life is a shameful life, and all that sort of thing;
but I boil with indignation at the hundred shamefulnesses which these
charity-mongers heap upon defenceless girls who, in a weak moment, have
sought their protection. If you know anything about the matter, you will
know that these girls have in their little souls an almost savage flame
of self-respect which burns with splendour before the bleak, miserable
flame of Organized Charity. If I spoke my mind on the subject, this page
would blaze with fury ... and you would smile.

* * * * *

But amid all this welter of misdirected endeavour, there is just one
organized charity for which I should like to say a word; and that is The
Salvation Army. I do not refer to its religious activities so much as to
its social work as represented in the excellent Shelters which have
been opened in various districts. There is one in Whitechapel Road,
which is the identical building where General Booth first started a
small weekly mission service which was afterwards known all over the
world as The Salvation Army. There is one in Hoxton. There is one--a
large one--in Blackfriars Road. And there are others wherever they may
be most needed.

The doors open at five