ey have no eucharistic sacrament, believing that as
often as they eat and drink they should be imbued with a spirit of
Christian remembrance and thankfulness; they argue that ministers
should not be paid; they dispense with pew-rents; repudiate all
money tests of membership--class-pence, &c.; make voluntary weekly
contributions towards the general expenses, each giving according to
his means; and all have a voice in the regulation of affairs, but
direct executive work is done by a president and a committee. The
independent volition of Quakerism is one of their prime
peculiarities. If they have even a tea-party, no fixed charge for
admission is made; the price paid for demolishing the tea and
currant bread, and crackers being left to the individual ability and
feelings of the participants.

Service is held in the chapel morning and evening every Sunday, and
the business of religious edification is very peacefully conducted.
There is a moderate choir in the chapel, and a small harmonium: The
singing is conducted on the tonic sol fa principle, and it seems to
suit Mr. William Toulmin, brother of the owner of the chapel,
preaches every Sunday, and has done so, more or less, from its
opening. He gets nothing for the job, contributes his share towards
the church expenses as well, and is satisfied. Others going to the
place might preach if they could, but they can't, so the lot
constantly falls upon Jonah, who gives homely practical sermons, and
is well thought of by his hearers. He is a quaint, cold, generous
man; is original, humble, honest; cares little for appearances;
wears neither white bands nor morocco shoes; looks sad, rough and
ready, and unapproachable; works regularly as a shopkeeper on week
days, and earnestly as a preacher on Sundays; passes his life away
in a mild struggle with eggs, bacon, butter, and theology; isn't
learned, nor classical, nor rhetorical, but possesses common sense;
expresses himself so as to be understood--a thing which some regular
parsons have a difficulty in doing; and has laboured Sunday after
Sunday for years all for nothing--a thing which no regular parson
ever did or ever will do. We somewhat respect a man who can preach
for years without pocketing a single dime, and contribute regularly
towards a church which gives him no salary, and never intends doing.
The homilies of the preacher at Ashmoor-street Chapel may neither be
luminous nor eloquent, neither pythonic in utterance nor refi