No sooner has Lady Swiggs time to breathe freely, than she changes the wondrous kind aspect of the assembly, and sends it into a paroxysm of fright, by relating her curious adventure among the denizens of the Points.  Brother Spyke nearly makes up his mind to faint; the good-natured fat man turns pale; the wise man in the spectacles is seen to tremble; the neatly-attired females, so pious-demeanored, express their horror of such a place; and Sister Slocum stands aghast.  “Oh! dear, Sister Swiggs,” she says, “your escape from such a vile place is truly marvellous!  Thank God you are with us once more.”  The good-natured fat man says, “A horrible world, truly!” and sighs.  Brother Spyke shrugs his shoulders, adding, “No respectable person here ever thinks of going into such a place; the people there are so corrupt.”  Brother Sharp says he shudders at the very thought of such a place.  He has heard much said of the dark deeds nightly committed in it-of the stubborn vileness of the dwellers therein.  God knows he never wants to descend into it.  “Truly,” Brother Phills interposes, “I walked through it once, and beheld with mine eyes such sights, such human deformity!  O, God!  Since then, I am content to go to my home through Broadway.  I never forget to shudder when I look into the vile place from a distance, nevertheless.”  Brother Phills says this after the manner of a philosopher, fretting his fingers, and contorting his comely face the while.  Sister Slocum, having recovered somewhat from the shock (the shock had no permanent effect on any of them), hopes Sister Swiggs did not lend an ear to their false pleadings, nor distribute charity among the vile wretches.  “Such would be like scattering chaff to the winds,” a dozen voices chime in.  “Indeed!” Lady Swiggs ejaculates, giving her head a toss, in token of her satisfaction, “not a shilling, except to the miserable wretch who showed me the way out.  And he seemed harmless enough.  I never met a more melancholy object, never!” Brother Spyke raises his eyes imploringly, and says he harbors no ill-will against these vile people, but melancholy is an art with them-they make it a study.  They affect it while picking one’s pocket.

The body now resolves itself into working order.  Brother Spyke offers up a prayer.  He thanks kind Providence for the happy escape of Sister Swiggs-this generous woman whose kindness of heart has brought her here-from among the hardened wretches who inhabit that slough of despair, so terrible in all its aspects, and so disgraceful to a great and prosperous city.  He thanks Him who blessed him with the light of learning-who endowed him with vigor and resolution-and told him to go forth in armor, beating down Satan, and raising up the heathen world.  A mustering of spectacles follows.  Sister Slocum draws from her bosom a copy of the report the wise man in the spectacles rises to read.  A fashionable gold chain and gold-framed eye-glass is called to her aid; and with a massive pencil of gold, she dots and points certain items of dollars and cents her keen eye rests upon every now and then.