passing along Friargate on an ordinary day, would never find the
Quakers' meeting house. He might notice at a certain point on the
north-eastern side of that undulating and bustling public
thoroughfare a grey looking gable, having a three-light-window
towards the head, with a large door below, and at its base two
washing pots and a long butter mug, belonging to an industrious
earthenware dealer next door; but he would never fancy that the
disciples of George Fox had a front entrance there to their meeting
house. Yet after passing through a dim broad passage here, and
mounting half a dozen substantial steps, you see a square, neat-
looking, five-windowed building, and this is the Quakers' meeting
house.

Over the passage there is a pretty large room, which is used by the
Friends for Sunday school purposes. The attendance at this school on
ordinary occasions is about 60; at special periods it is
considerably more. During the cotton famine, a few years ago, when
the Quakers were manifesting their proverbial charity--giving money,
food, and clothing--the attendance averaged 160; and if it was known
that they were going to give something extra tomorrow it would reach
that point again. Speaking of the charity of Quakers, it may not be
amiss to state that they keep all their own poor--do not allow any
one belonging their society ever to solicit aid from the parish, or
migrate in the dark hour of poverty to the workhouse. Reverting to
the meeting-house, we may observe that just within its front door
particular provision has been made for umbrellas. There is a long,
low stand, with a channel below it, and this will afford ample
accomodation for about 160 umbrellas. Taking into account the
average attendance at the meeting-house, we have come to the serious
conclusion that if every member carried two umbrellas on wet