At one time there was a number of this sect in Tottenham—a very admirable class of people, thoroughly just and genuine. Their dress was rather quaint, but worthy of great admiration; neatness, goodness, and simplicity form the three features of it. The poke bonnet was perfect, with the sweet little goffered frill round, in nearly all cases, a nice face, so suitable to the wearer; then generally a dove or mouse-coloured silk gown, neatly made and very ample in the skirt, just to escape the ground. It would have been a great fault to have a speck of dirt on them of any kind. They were scrupulously clean and on no account did they like or allow their ankles to be seen. A friend of mine knew two old lady Quakers who many years ago kept, for amusement, a small private school of twelve or fourteen children; she herself was one of the pupils for eight or ten years, and admired them exceedingly with their pretty white caps drawn tightly with cords, but at the same time thought them a little sharp. Of course in those days each child had individual attention, and she remembers perfectly well, when being taught to write, the old lady with ruler in her hand, the pupil seated at the table; if the pen was not held properly, down came the ruler thump across the knuckles without any warning. Another little incident. They were very keen on sampler work, and if one did not put the needle into the canvas quite right, the first thing cue felt was the needle run into one’s fingers. The child of to-day would not appreciate that kind of treatment; nor did they then. This same friend also told me of a Quaker who had a very large grocer’s shop. He was often asked for a little piece of string by the country women, and I suppose he got rather tired of giving it, so on one occasion he said in his quiet way, “Take what thy conscience will allow.” The woman said it would allow her to take it all. They always looked well after their pounds, shillings, and pence, and very often amassed large fortunes; it is rare to hear of a really poor Quaker. In this respect they are very good to one another and talk little about it. I must not forget to mention the men’s attire; it was then as quaint as the women’s. They were always dressed in brown or drab cutaway coats, without any collar to them; low hats with a brim nearly as wide as the depth of the hat; and very often knee breeches. Many allowed their hair to grow very long. Then the service in their meeting house, as their place of worship was called, is rather strange. They all sit perfectly quiet, until the spirit moves them, and then, be it man or woman, stand up and expound.