love of God, and
religion condones every indecency.

Mr. Bramwell Booth, whom the General has singled out as his apostolic
successor, and heir to all the Army's property, got married last week;
and the pious showman actually exhibited the bridegroom and bride to the
public at a shilling a head. About three hundred pounds were taken at
the doors, and a big collection was made inside. Booth's anxiety for the
cash was very strongly illustrated. Commissioner Bailton, who has had
a very eccentric career, was enjoying his long deferred opportunity of
making a speech, when many of the crowd began to press towards the door.
"Stop," cried Booth, "don't go yet, there's going to be a collection."
But the audience melted faster than ever. Whereupon Booth jumped up
again, stopped poor Railton unceremoniously, and shouted "Hold on, we'll
make the collection now." This little manouvre was quite in keeping
with the showman's instruction to his subalterns, to have plenty of good
strong collecting boxes and pass them round often.

Booth's facetious remarks during his son's marriage according to the
Army forms were well adapted to tickle the ears of his groundlings. The
whole thing was a roaring farce, and well sustained the reputation of
the show. There was also the usual spice of blasphemy. Before Bramwell
Booth marched on to the platform a board was held up bearing the
inscription "Behold the bridegroom cometh." These mountebanks have no
reverence even for what they call sacred. They make everything dance to
their tune. They prostitute "God's Word," caricature Jesus Christ, and
burlesque all the watchwords and symbols of their creed.

One of Booth's remarks after the splicing was finished is full of
suggestion. He said that his enemies might cavil, but he had found out
a road to fortune in this world and the next. Well, the Lord only knows
how he will fare in the next world, but in this world the pious showman
has certainly gained a big success. He can neither write nor preach, and
as for singing, a half a dozen notes from his brazen throat would empty
the place as easily as a cry of "Fire." But he is a dexterous manager;
he knows how to work the oracle; he understands catering for the mob; in
short, he is a very clever showman, who deals in religion just as other
showmen deal in wild animals, giants, dwarfs, two-headed sheep, fat
women, and Siamese twins.

Fortune has brought to our hands a copy of a private circular issued
by "Co