I have heard and read many such stories of Quakers, which seem too well authenticated to admit of doubt. They themselves refer all such cases to "the inward light;" and that phrase, as they understand it, conveys a satisfactory explanation to their minds. I leave psychologists to settle the question as they can.

Those who are well acquainted with Quaker views, are aware that by "the inward light," they signify something higher and more comprehensive than conscience. They regard it as the voice of G.o.d in the soul, which will always guard man from evil, and guide him into truth, if reverently listened to, in stillness of the pa.s.sions, and obedience of the will.

These strong impressions on individual minds const.i.tute their only call and consecration to the ministry, and have directed' them in the application of moral principles to a variety of subjects, such as intemperance, war, and slavery. Men and women were impelled by the interior monitor to go about preaching on these topics, until their individual views became what are called "leading testimonies" in the Society. The abjuration of slavery was one of their earliest "testimonies." There was much preaching against it in their public meetings, and many committees were appointed to expostulate in private with those who held slaves. At an early period, it became an established rule of discipline for the Society to disown any member, who refused to manumit his bondmen.

Friend Hopper used to tell an interesting anecdote in connection with these committees. In the course of their visits, they concluded to pa.s.s by one of their members, who held only one slave, and he was very old.

He was too infirm to earn his own living, and as he was very kindly treated, they supposed he would have no wish for freedom. But Isaac Jackson, one of the committee, a very benevolent and conscientious man, had a strong impression on his mind that duty required him not to omit this case. He accordingly went alone to the master, and stated how the subject appeared to him, in the inward light of his own soul. The Friend was not easily convinced. He brought forward many reasons for not emanc.i.p.ating his slave; and one of the strongest was that the man was too feeble to labor for his own support, and therefore freedom would be of no value to him. Isaac Jackson replied, "He labored for thee without wages, while he had strength, and it is thy duty to support him now.

Whether he would value freedom or not, is a question he alone is competent to decide."

These friendly remonstrances produced such effect, that the master agreed to manumit his bondman, and give a written obligation that he should be comfortably supported during the remainder of his life, by him or his heirs. When the papers were prepared the slave was called into the parlor, and Isaac Jackson inquired, "Would'st thou like to be free?"

He promptly answered that he should. The Friend suggested that he was now too feeble to labor much, and inquired how he would manage to obtain a living. The old man meekly replied, "Providence has been kind to me thus far; and I am willing to trust him the rest of my life."

Isaac Jackson then held up the papers and said, "Thou art a free man.

Thy master has manumitted thee, and promised to maintain thee as long as thou mayest live."

This was so unexpected, that the aged bondman was completely overcome.

For a few moments, he remained in profound silence; then, with a sudden impulse, he fell on his knees, and poured forth a short and fervent prayer of thanksgiving to his Heavenly Father, for prolonging his life till he had the happiness to feel himself a free man.

The master and his adviser were both surprised and affected by this eloquent outburst of grateful feeling. The poor old servant had seemed so comfortable and contented, that no one supposed freedom was of great importance to him. But, as honest Isaac Jackson observed, _he_ alone was competent to decide _that_ question.

Quakers consider "the inward light" as a guide not merely in cases involving moral principles, but also in the regulation of external affairs; and in the annals of their Society, are some remarkable instances of dangers avoided by the help of this internal monitor.

Friend Hopper used to mention a case where a strong impression had been made on his own mind, without his being able to a.s.sign any adequate reason for it. A young man, descended from a highly respectable Quaker family in New-Jersey, went to South Carolina and entered into business.

He married there, and as his wife did not belong to the Society of Friends, he was of course disowned. After some years of commercial success, he failed, and went to Philadelphia, where Friend Hopper became acquainted with him, and formed an opinion not unfavorable. When he had been in that city some time, he mentioned that his wife owned land in Carolina, which he was very desirous to cultivate, but was prevented by conscientious scruples concerning slave-labor. He said if he could induce some colored people from Philadelphia to go there and work for him as free laborers, it would be an advantage to him, and a benefit to them. He urged Friend Hopper to exert his influence over them to convince them that such precautions could be taken, as would prevent any danger of their being reduced to slavery; saying that if he would consent to do so, he doubtless could obtain as many laborers as he wanted. The plan appeared feasible, and Friend Hopper was inclined to a.s.sist him in carrying it into execution. Soon after, two colored men called upon him, and said they were ready to go, provided he thought well of the project. Nothing had occurred to change his opinion of the man, or to excite distrust concerning his agricultural scheme. But an impression came upon his mind that the laborers had better not go; an impression so strong, that he thought it right to be influenced by it.

He accordingly told them he had thought well of the plan, but his views had changed, and he advised them to remain where they were. This greatly surprised the man who wished to employ them, and he called to expostulate on the subject; repeating his statement concerning the great advantage they would derive from entering into his service.

"There is no use in arguing the matter," replied Friend Hopper. "I have no cause whatever to suspect thee of any dishonest or dishonorable intentions; but there is on my mind an impression of danger, so powerful that I cannot conscientiously have any agency in inducing colored laborers to go with thee."

Not succeeding in his project, the bankrupt merchant went to New-Jersey for a time, to reside with his father, who was a worthy and influential member of the Society of Friends. An innocent, good natured old colored man, a fugitive from Virginia, had for some time been employed to work on the farm, and the family had become much attached to him. The son who had returned from Carolina was very friendly with this simple-hearted old servant, and easily gained his confidence. When he had learned his story, he offered to write to his master, and enable him to purchase his freedom for a sum which he could gradually repay by labor. The fugitive was exceedingly grateful, and put himself completely in his power by a full statement of all particulars. The false-hearted man did indeed write to the master; and the poor old slave was soon after arrested and carried to Philadelphia in irons. Friend Hopper was sent for, and went to see him in prison. With groans and sobs, the captive told how wickedly he had been deceived. "I thought he was a Quaker, and so I trusted him," said he. "But I saw my master's agent pay him fifty dollars for betraying me."

Friend Hopper a.s.sured him that the deceiver was not a Quaker; and that he did not believe any Quaker on the face of the earth would do such an unjust and cruel deed. He could devise no means to rescue the sufferer; and with an aching heart he was compelled to see him carried off into slavery, without being able to offer any other solace than an affectionate farewell.

The conduct of this base hypocrite proved that the warning presentiment against him had not been without foundation. Grieved and indignant at the wrong he had done to a helpless and unoffending fellow-creature, Friend Hopper wrote to him as follows: "Yesterday, I visited the poor old man in prison, whom thou hast so perfidiously betrayed. Gloomy and hopeless as his case is, I would prefer it to thine. Thou hast received fifty dollars as the reward of thy treachery; but what good can it do thee? Canst thou lay down thy head at night, without feeling the sharp goadings of a guilty conscience? Canst thou ask forgiveness of thy sins of our Heavenly Father, whom thou hast so grievously insulted by thy hypocrisy? Judas betrayed his master for thirty pieces of silver, and afterward hung himself. Thou hast betrayed thy brother for fifty; and if thy conscience is not seared, as with hot iron, thy compunction must be great. I feel no disposition to upbraid thee. I have no doubt thy own heart does that sufficiently; for our beneficent Creator will not suffer any to be at ease in their sins. Thy friend, I.T.H."

The worthy old Quaker in New-Jersey was not aware of his son's villainous conduct until some time after. When the circ.u.mstances were made known to the family they were exceedingly mortified and afflicted.

Friend Hopper used to tell another story, which forms a beautiful contrast to the foregoing painful narrative. I repeat it, because it ill.u.s.trates the tenderness of spirit, which has so peculiarly characterized the Society of Friends, and because I hope it may fall like dew on hearts parched by vindictive feelings. Charles Carey lived near Philadelphia, in a comfortable house with a few acres of pasture adjoining. A young horse, apparently healthy, though lean, was one day offered him in the market for fifty dollars. The cheapness tempted him to purchase; for he thought the clover of his pastures would soon put the animal in good condition, and enable him to sell him at an advanced price. He was too poor to command the required sum himself, but he borrowed it of a friend. The horse, being well fed and lightly worked, soon became a n.o.ble looking animal, and was taken to the city for sale.

But scarcely had he entered the market, when a stranger stepped up and claimed him as his property, recently stolen. Charles Carey's son, who had charge of the animal, was taken before a magistrate. Isaac T. Hopper was sent for, and easily proved that the character of the young man and his father was above all suspicion. But the stranger produced satisfactory evidence that he was the rightful owner of the horse, which was accordingly delivered up to him. When Charles Carey heard the unwelcome news, he quietly remarked, "It is hard for me to lose the money; but I am glad the man has recovered his property."

About a year afterward, having occasion to go to a tavern in Philadelphia, he saw a man in the bar-room, whom he at once recognized as the person who had sold him the horse. He walked up to him, and inquired whether he remembered the transaction. Being answered in the affirmative, he said, "I am the man who bought that horse. Didst thou know he was stolen?" With a stupified manner and a faltering voice, the stranger answered, "Yes."

"Come along with me, then," said Charles; "and I will put thee where thou wilt not steal another horse very soon."

The thief resigned himself to his fate with a sort of hopeless indifference. But before they reached the magistrate's office, the voice within began to plead gently with the Quaker, and turned him from the sternness of his purpose. "I am a poor man," said he, "and thou hast greatly injured me. I cannot afford to lose fifty dollars; but to prosecute thee will not compensate me for the loss. Go thy way, and conduct thyself honestly in future."

The man seemed amazed. He stood for a moment, hesitating and confused; then walked slowly away. But after taking a few steps, he turned back and said, "Where can I find you, if I should ever be able to make rest.i.tution for the wrong I have done?"

Charles replied, "I trust thou dost not intend to jest with me, after all the trouble thou hast caused me?"

"No, indeed I do not," answered the stranger. "I hope to repay you, some time or other."

"Very well," rejoined the Friend, "if thou ever hast anything for me, thou canst leave it with Isaac T. Hopper, at the corner of Walnut and Dock-streets." Thus they parted, and never met again.

About a year after, Friend Hopper found a letter on his desk, addressed to Charles Carey. When it was delivered to him, he was surprised to find that it came from the man who had stolen the horse, and contained twenty dollars. A few months later, another letter containing the same sum, was left in the same way. Not long after, a third letter arrived, enclosing twenty dollars; the whole forming a sum sufficient to repay both princ.i.p.al and interest of the money which the kind-hearted Quaker had lost by his dishonesty.

This last letter stated that the writer had no thoughts of stealing the horse ten minutes before he did it. After he had sold him, he was so haunted by remorse and fear of detection, that life became a burthen to him, and he cared not what became of him. But when he was arrested, and so unexpectedly set at liberty, the crushing weight was taken from him.

He felt inspired by fresh courage, and sustained by the hope of making some atonement for what he had done. He made strenuous efforts to improve his condition, and succeeded. He was then teaching school, was a.s.sessor of the township where he resided, and no one suspected that he had ever committed a dishonest action.

The good man, to whom this epistle was addressed, read it with moistened eyes, and felt that the reward of righteousness is peace.

For many years after Isaac T. Hopper joined the Society of Friends, a spirit of peace and of kindly communion prevailed among them. No sect has ever arisen which so nearly approached the character of primitive christianity, in all relations with each other and with their fellow men. But as soon as the early christians were relieved from persecution, they began to persecute each other; and so it was with the Quakers.

Having become established and respected by the world, the humble and self-denying spirit which at the outset renounced and contended with the world gradually departed. Many of them were rich, and not unfrequently their fortunes were acquired by trading with slave-holders. Such men were well satisfied to have the testimonies of their spiritual forefathers against slavery read over among themselves, at stated seasons; but they felt little sympathy with those of their cotemporaries, who considered it a duty to remonstrate publicly and freely with all who were connected with the iniquitous system.

A strong and earnest preacher, by the name of Elias Hicks, made himself more offensive than others in this respect. He appears to have been a very just and conscientious man, with great reverence for G.o.d, and exceedingly little for human authority. Everywhere, in public and in private, he lifted up his voice against the sin of slavery. He would eat no sugar that was made by slaves, and wear no garment which he supposed to have been produced by unpaid labor. In a remarkable manner, he showed this "ruling pa.s.sion strong in death." A few hours before he departed from this world, his friends, seeing him shiver, placed a comfortable over him. He felt of it with his feeble hands, and made a strong effort to push it away. When they again drew it up over his shoulders, he manifested the same symptoms of abhorrence. One of them, who began to conjecture the cause, inquired, "Dost thou dislike it because it is made of cotton?" He was too far gone to speak, but he moved his head in token of a.s.sent. When they removed the article of slave produce, and subst.i.tuted a woolen blanket, he remained quiet, and pa.s.sed away in peace.

He was accustomed to say, "It takes _live_ fish to swim _up_ stream;"

and unquestionably he and his friend Isaac T. Hopper were both very much alive. The quiet boldness of this man was altogether unmanageable. In Virginia or Carolina, he preached more earnestly and directly against slavery, than he did in New-York or Pennsylvania; for the simple reason that it seemed to be more needed there. Upon one of these occasions, a slaveholder who went to hear him from curiosity, left the meeting in great wrath, swearing he would blow out that fellow's brains if he ventured near his plantation. When the preacher heard of this threat, he put on his hat and proceeded straightway to the forbidden place. In answer to his inquiries, a slave informed him that his master was then at dinner, but would see him in a short time. He seated himself and waited patiently until the planter entered the room. With a calm and dignified manner, he thus addressed him: "I understand thou hast threatened to blow out the brains of Elias Hicks, if he comes upon thy plantation. I am Elias Hicks."

The Virginian acknowledged that he did make such a threat, and said he considered it perfectly justifiable to do such a deed, when a man came to preach rebellion to his slaves.

"I came to preach the Gospel, which inculcates forgiveness of injuries upon slaves as well as upon other men," replied the Quaker. "But tell me, if thou canst, how this Gospel can be _truly_ preached, without showing the slaves that they _are_ injured, and thus making a man of thy sentiments feel as if they were encouraged in rebellion."

This led to a long argument, maintained in the most friendly spirit. At parting, the slaveholder shook hands with the preacher, and invited him to come again. His visits were renewed, and six months after, the Virginian emanc.i.p.ated all his slaves.

When preaching in the free states, he earnestly called upon all to abstain from slave-produce, and thus in a measure wash their own hands from partic.i.p.ation in a system of abominable wickedness and cruelty. His zeal on this subject annoyed some of his brethren, but they could not make him amenable to discipline for it; for these views were in accordance with the earliest and strongest testimonies of the Society of Friends; moreover, it would have been discreditable to acknowledge _such_ a ground of offence. But the secret dissatisfaction showed itself in a disposition to find fault with him. Charges were brought against his doctrines. He was accused of denying the authority of Scripture, and the divinity of Christ.

It was a departure from the original basis of the Society to a.s.sume any standard whatsoever concerning creeds. It is true that the early Quakers wrote volumes of controversy against many of the prevailing opinions of their day; such as the doctrine of predestination, and of salvation depending upon faith, rather than upon works. All the customary external observances, such as holy days, baptism, and the Lord's Supper, they considered as belonging to a less spiritual age, and that the time had come for them to be done away. Concerning the Trinity, there appears to have been difference of opinion among them from the earliest time. When George Fox expressed a fear that William Penn had gone too far in defending "the true unity of G.o.d," Penn replied that he had never heard any one speak more plainly concerning the manhood of Christ, than George Fox himself. Penn was imprisoned in the Tower for "rejecting the mystery of the Trinity," in a book called "The Sandy Foundation Shaken." He afterward wrote "Innocency with her Open Face," regarded by some as a compromise, which procured his release. But though various popular doctrines naturally came in their way, and challenged discussion, while they were endeavoring to introduce a new order of things, the characteristic feature of their movement was attention to practical righteousness rather than theological tenets. They did not require their members to profess faith in any creed. They had but one single bond of union; and that was the belief that every man ought to be guided in his actions, and in the interpretation of Scripture, by the light within his own soul. Their history shows that they mainly used this light to guide them in the application of moral principles. Upon the priesthood, in every form, they made unsparing warfare; believing that the gifts of the Spirit ought never to be paid with money. They appointed committees to visit the sick, the afflicted, and the dest.i.tute, and to superintend marriages and funerals. The farmer, the shoemaker, the physician, or the merchant, followed his vocation diligently, and whenever the Spirit moved him to exhort his brethren, he did so. The "First, and Fifth Day"

of the week, called by other denominations Sunday and Thursday, were set apart by them for religious meetings. Women were placed on an equality with men, by being admitted to this free Gospel ministry, and appointed on committees with men, to regulate the affairs of the Society. They abjured war under all circ.u.mstances, and suffered great persecution rather than pay military taxes. They early discouraged the distillation or use of spirituous liquors, and disowned any of their members who distilled them from grain. Protests against slavery were among their most earnest testimonies, and it was early made a rule of discipline that no member of the Society should hold slaves. When the Quakers first arose, it was a custom in England, as it still is on the continent of Europe, to say _thou_ to an inferior, or equal, and _you_ to a superior. They saw in this custom an infringement of the great law of human brotherhood; and because they would "call no man master," they said _thou_ to every person, without distinction of rank. To the conservatives of their day, this spiritual democracy seemed like deliberate contempt of authority; and as such, deserving of severe punishment. More strenuously than all other things, they denied the right of any set of men to prescribe a creed for others. The only authority they recognized was "the light within;" and for freedom to follow this, they were always ready to suffer or to die.

On all these subjects, there could be no doubt that Elias Hicks was a Quaker of the old genuine stamp. But he differed from many others in some of his theological views. He considered Christ as "the only Son of the most high G.o.d;" but he denied that "the _outward person_," which suffered on Calvary was properly the Son of G.o.d. He attached less importance to miracles, than did many of his brethren. He said he had learned more of his own soul, and had clearer revelations of G.o.d and duty, while following his plough, than from all the books he had ever read. He reverenced the Bible as a record of divine power and goodness, but did not consider a knowledge of it essential to salvation; for he supposed that a Hindoo or an African, who never heard of the Scriptures, or of Christ, might become truly a child of G.o.d, if he humbly and sincerely followed the divine light within, given to every human soul, according to the measure of its faithfulness.

Many of his brethren, whose views a.s.similated more with orthodox opinions, accused him of having departed from the principles of early Friends. But his predecessors had been guided only by the light within; and he followed the same guide, without deciding beforehand precisely how far it might lead him. This principle, if sincerely adopted and consistently applied, would obviously lead to large and liberal results, sufficient for the progressive growth of all coming ages. It was so generally admitted to be the one definite bond of union among early Friends, that the right of Elias Hicks to utter his own convictions, whether they were in accordance with others or not, would probably never have been questioned, if some influential members of the Society had not a.s.sumed more power than was delegated to them; thereby const.i.tuting themselves a kind of ecclesiastical tribunal. It is the nature of such authority to seek enlargement of its boundaries, by encroaching more and more on individual freedom.

The friends of Elias Hicks did not adopt his views or the views of any other man as a standard of opinion. On the subject of the Trinity, for instance, there were various shadings of opinion among them. The probability seems to be that the influence of Unitarian sects, and of Orthodox sects had, in the course of years, gradually glided in among the Quakers, and more or less fashioned their theological opinions, though themselves were unconscious of it; as we all are of the surrounding air we are constantly inhaling.

But it was not the Unitarianism of Elias Hicks that his adherents fought for, or considered it necessary to adopt. They simply contended for his right to express his own convictions, and denied the authority of any man, or body of men, to judge his preaching by the a.s.sumed standard of any creed. Therefore, the real ground of the struggle seems to have been resistance to ecclesiastical power; though theological opinions unavoidably became intertwisted with it. It was a new form of the old battle, perpetually renewed ever since the world began, between authority and individual freedom.

The agitation, which had for some time been heaving under the surface, is said to have been brought into open manifestation by a sermon which Elias Hicks preached against the use of slave produce, in 1819. A bitter warfare followed. Those who refused to denounce his opinions were accused of being infidels and separatists; and they called their accusers bigoted and intolerant. With regard to disputed doctrines, both claimed to find sufficient authority in the writings of early Friends; and each side charged the other with mutilating and misrepresenting those writings. As usual in theological controversies, the skein became more and more entangled, till there was no way left but to cut it in two. In 1827 and 1828, a separation took place in the Yearly Meetings of Philadelphia, New-York, and several other places. Thenceforth, the members were divided into two distinct sects. In some places the friends of Elias Hicks were far the more numerous. In others, his opponents had a majority. Each party claimed to be the genuine Society of Friends, and denied the other's right to retain the t.i.tle. The opponents of Elias Hicks called themselves "Orthodox Friends," and named his adherents "Hicksites." The latter repudiated the t.i.tle, because they did not acknowledge him as their standard of belief, though they loved and reverenced his character, and stood by him as the representative of liberty of conscience. They called themselves "Friends," and the others "the Orthodox."

The question which was the genuine Society of Friends was more important than it would seem to a mere looker on; for large pecuniary interests were involved therein. It is well known that Quakers form a sort of commonwealth by themselves, within the civil commonwealth by which they are governed. They pay the public school-tax, and in addition build their own school-houses, and employ teachers of their own Society. They support their own poor, while they pay the same pauper tax as other citizens. They have burying grounds apart from others, because they have conscientious scruples concerning monuments and epitaphs. Of course, the question which of the two contending parties was the true Society of Friends involved the question who owned the meeting-houses, the burying grounds, and the school funds. The friends of Elias Hicks offered to divide the property, according to the relative numbers of each party; but those called Orthodox refused to accept the proposition. Lawsuits were brought in various parts of the country. What a bitter state of animosity existed may be conjectured from the fact that the "Orthodox"

in Philadelphia refused to allow "Hicksites" to bury their dead in the ground belonging to the undivided Society of Friends. On the occasion of funerals, they refused to deliver up the key; and after their opponents had remonstrated in vain, they forced the lock.

I believe in almost every instance, where the "Hicksites" were a majority, and thus had a claim to the larger share of property, they offered to divide in proportion to the relative numbers of the two parties. After the separation in New-York, they renewed this offer, which had once been rejected; and the "Orthodox" finally agreed to accept a stipulated sum for their interest in the property. The Friends called "Hicksites" numbered in the whole more than seventy thousand.

Quakers in England generally took part against Elias Hicks and his friends. Some, who were styled "The Evangelical Party," went much beyond their brethren in conformity with the prevailing denominations of Christians called Orthodox. Many of them considered a knowledge of the letter of Scripture essential to salvation; and some even approved of baptism by water; a singular departure from the total abrogation of external rites, which characterized Quakerism from the beginning.

William and Mary Howitt, the well known and highly popular English writers, were born members of this religious Society. In an article concerning the Hicksite controversy, written for the London Christian Advocate, the former says: "My opinion is, that Friends will see cause to repent the excision of that great portion of their own body, on the plea of heretical opinions. By sanctioning it, they are bound, if they act impartially and consistently, to expel others also for heterodox opinions. This comes of violating the sacred liberty of conscience; of allowing ourselves to be infected with the leaven of a blind zeal, instead of the broad philanthropy of Christ. Is there no better alternative? Yes. To adopt the principle of William Penn; to allow freedom of opinion; and while we permit the Evangelical party to hold _their_ favorite notions, so long as they consent to conform to our system of public worship, to confess that we have acted harshly to the Hicksites, and open our arms to all who are sincere in their faith, and orderly in their conduct."

As the adherents of Elias Hicks at that time represented freedom of conscience, of course Isaac T. Hopper belonged to that party, and advocated it with characteristic zeal. In fact, he seems to have been the Napoleon of the battle. It was not in his nature intentionally to misrepresent any man; and even when the controversy was raging most furiously, I believe there never was a time when he would not willingly have acknowledged a mistake the moment he perceived it. But his temperament was such, that wherever he deemed a principle of truth, justice, or freedom was at stake, he could never quit an adversary till he had demolished him completely, and _convinced_ him that he was demolished; though he often felt great personal kindness toward the individual thus prostrated, and was always willing to render him any friendly service. He used to say that his resistance in this controversy was princ.i.p.ally roused by the disposition which he saw manifested "to crush worthy, innocent Friends, for mere difference of opinion;" and no one, who knew him well, could doubt that on this subject, as on others, he was impelled by a sincere love of truth and justice. But neither he nor any other person ever entered the lists of theological controversy without paying dearly for the encounter. Perpetual strife grieved and disturbed his own spirit, while his energy, perseverance, and bluntness of speech, gained him many enemies. Wherever this unfortunate sectarian schism was introduced, it divided families, and burst asunder the bonds of friendship. For a long time, they seemed to be a Society of Enemies, instead of a Society of Friends. In this respect, no one suffered more acutely than Isaac T. Hopper. It was his nature to form very strong friendships; and at this painful juncture, many whom he had long loved and trusted, parted from him. Among them was his cousin Joseph Whitall, who had embraced Quakerism at the same period of life, who had been the friend of his boyhood, and the cherished companion of later years. They had no personal altercation, but their intimacy gradually cooled off, and they became as strangers.

He had encountered other difficulties also, at a former period of his life, the shadows of which still lay across his path. About twelve or fifteen years after his marriage, his health began to fail. His vigorous frame pined away to a mere shadow, and he was supposed to be in a consumption. At the same time, he found himself involved in pecuniary difficulties, the burden of which weighed very heavily upon him, for many reasons. His strong sense of justice made it painful for him to owe debts he could not pay. He had an exceeding love of imparting to others, and these pecuniary impediments tied down his large soul with a thousand lilliputian cords. He had an honest pride of independence, which chafed under any obligation that could be avoided. His strong attachment to the Society of Friends rendered him sensitive to their opinion; and at that period their rules were exceedingly strict concerning any of their members, who contracted debts they were unable to pay. People are always ready to censure a man who is unprosperous in worldly affairs; and if his character is such as to render him prominent, he is all the more likely to be handled harshly. Of these trials Friend Hopper had a large share, and they disturbed him exceedingly; but the consciousness of upright intentions kept him from sinking under the weight that pressed upon him.