But I judged so mainly from incidental remarks; for he regarded doctrines as of small importance, and considered theology an unprofitable topic of conversation. Practical righteousness, manifested in the daily affairs of life, was in his view the sum and substance of religion. The doctrine of the Atonement never commended itself to his reason, and his sense of justice was disturbed by the idea of the innocent suffering for the guilty. He moreover thought it had a pernicious tendency for men to rely on an abstract article of faith, to save them from their sins. With the stern and gloomy sects, who are peculiarly attracted by the character of Deity as delineated in the Old Testament, he had no sympathy. The Infinite One was ever present to his mind, as a loving Father to all his children, whether they happened to call him by the name of Brama, Jehovah, G.o.d, or Allah.

He was strongly attached to the forms of Quakerism, as well as to the principles. It troubled him, when some of his children changed their mode of dress, and ceased to say _thee_ and _thou_. He groaned when one of his daughters appeared before him with a black velvet bonnet, though it was exceedingly simple in construction, and unornamented by feather or ribbon. She was prepared for this reception, and tried to reconcile him to the innovation by representing that a white or drab-colored silk bonnet showed every stain, and was therefore very uneconomical for a person of active habits. "Thy good mother was a very energetic woman,"

he replied; "but she found no difficulty in keeping her white bonnet as nice as a new pin." His daughter urged that it required a great deal of trouble to keep it so; and that she did not think dress was worth so much trouble. But his groan was only softened into a sigh. The fashion of the bonnet his Sarah had worn, in that beloved old meeting-house at Woodbury, was consecrated in his memory; and to his mind, the outward type also stood for an inward principle. I used to tell him that I found something truly grand in the original motive for saying _thee_ and _thou_; but it seemed to me that it had degenerated into a mere hereditary habit, since the custom of applying _you_ exclusively to superiors had vanished from the English language. He admitted the force of this argument; but he deprecated a departure from their old forms, because he considered it useful, especially to the young, to carry the cross of being marked and set apart from the world. But though he was thus strict in what he required of those who had been educated as Quakers, he placed no barrier between himself and people of other sects.

He loved a righteous man, and sympathized with an unfortunate one, without reference to his denomination. In fact, many of his warmest and dearest friends were not members of his own religious society.

Early in life he formed an unfavorable opinion of the effect of capital punishment. His uncle Tatum considered it a useful moral lesson to take all his apprentices to hear the tragedy of George Barnwell, and to witness public executions. On one of these occasions, he saw five men hung at once. His habits of shrewd observation soon led him to conclude that such spectacles generally had a very hardening and bad influence on those who witnessed them, or heard them much talked about. In riper years, his mind was deeply interested in the subject, and he read and reflected upon it a great deal. The result of his investigations was a settled conviction that executions did not tend to diminish crime, but rather to increase it, by their demoralizing effect on the community. He regarded them with abhorrence, as a barbarous custom, entirely out of place in a civilized country and a Christian age.

Concerning the rights of women, he scarcely needed any new light from modern theories; for, as a Quaker, he had been early accustomed to practical equality between men and women in all the affairs of the Society. He had always been in the habit of listening to them as preachers, and of meeting them on committees with men, for education, for the care of the poor, for missions to the Indians, and for financial regulations. Therefore, it never occurred to him that there was anything unseemly in a woman's using any gift with which G.o.d had endowed her, or transacting any business, which she had the ability to do well.

After his removal to New-York, incidents now and then occurred, which formed pleasant links with his previous life in Philadelphia. Sometimes slaves, whom he had rescued many years before, or convicts, whom he had encouraged to lead a better life, called to see him and express their grat.i.tude. Sometimes their children came to bless him. There was one old colored woman, who never could meet him without embracing him. Although these demonstrations were not always convenient, and did not partake of the quiet character of Quaker discipline, he would never say anything to repress the overflowings of her warm old heart. As one of his sons pa.s.sed through Bond-street, he saw an old colored man rubbing his knees, and making the most lively gesticulations of delight. Being asked what was the matter, he pointed across the street, and exclaimed, "O, if I was only sure that was Friend Hopper of Philadelphia! If I was only _sure_!" When told that he was not mistaken, he rushed up to the old gentleman, threw his arms about his neck, and hugged him.

When I told him of Julia Pell, a colored Methodist preacher, whose fervid untutored eloquence had produced an exciting effect on my mind, he invited her to come and take tea with him. In the course of conversation, he discovered that she was the daughter of Zeke, the slave who outwitted his purchaser; as described in the preceding narratives.

It was quite an interesting event in her life to meet with the man who had written her father's manumission papers, while she was in her infancy. When the parting hour came, she said she felt moved to pray; and dropping on her knees, she poured forth a brief but very earnest prayer, at the close of which she said: "O Lord, I beseech thee to shower down blessings on that good old man, whom thou hast raised up to do such a blessed work for my down-trodden people."

Friend Hopper's fund of anecdotes, especially with regard to colored people, was almost inexhaustible. He related them with so much animation, that he was constantly called upon to repeat them, both at public meetings and in private conversation; and they never failed to excite lively interest. Every stranger, who was introduced to him, tried to draw him out; and it was an easy matter; for he loved to oblige people, and it is always pleasant for an old soldier to fight his battles over again. In this readiness to recount his own exploits, there was nothing that seemed like silly or obtrusive vanity. It often reminded me of the following just remark in the Westminster Review, applied to Jeremy Bentham: "The very egotism in which he occasionally indulged was a manifestation of a _want_ of self-thought. This unpopular failing is, after all, one of the characteristics of a natural and simple mind. It requires much _thought_ about one's self to _avoid_ speaking of one's self."

It has been already mentioned that Friend Hopper pa.s.sed through a fiery trial in his own religious society, during the progress of the schism produced by the preaching of Elias Hicks. Fourteen years had elapsed since the separation. The "Hicksite" branch had become an established and respectable sect. In cities, many of them were largely engaged in Southern trade. I have heard it stated that millions of money were thus invested. They retained sympathy with the theological opinions of Elias Hicks, but his rousing remonstrances against slavery would have been generally very unwelcome to their ears. They cherished the names of Anthony Benezet, John Woolman, and a host of other departed worthies, whose labors in behalf of the colored people reflected honor on their Society. But where was the need of being so active in the cause, as Isaac T. Hopper was, and always had been? "The way did not open" for _them_ to be so active; and why should _his_ zeal rebuke _their_ listlessness? Was it friendly, was it respectful in him, to do more than his religious Society thought it necessary to do? It is astonishing how troublesome a living soul proves to be, when they try to shut it up within the narrow limits of a drowsy sect!

I had a friend in Boston, whose wealthy and aristocratic parents brought him up according to the most approved model of genteel religion. He learned the story of the Good Samaritan, and was early accustomed to hear eulogies p.r.o.nounced on the holy Jesus, who loved the poor, and a.s.sociated with the despised. When the boy became a man he joined the Anti-Slavery Society, and openly avowed that he regarded Africans as brethren of the great human family. His relatives were grieved to see him pursuing such an injudicious and disrespectable course. Whereupon, a witty reformer remarked, "They took most commendable pains to present Jesus and the Good Samaritan as models of character, but they were surprised to find that he had taken them at their word."

The case was somewhat similar with Isaac T. Hopper. He had imbibed anti-slavery principles in full flood at the fountain of Quakerism.

Their best and greatest men were conspicuous as advocates of those principles. Children were taught to revere those men, and their testimonies were laid up in honorable preservation, to be quoted with solemn formality on safe occasions. Friend Hopper acted as if these professions were in good earnest; and thereby he disturbed his sect, as my Boston friend troubled his family, when he made practical use of their religious teaching.

That many of the modern Quakers should be blinded by bales of cotton, heaped up between their souls and the divine light, is not remarkable; for cotton is an impervious material. But it is a strange anomaly in their history that any one among them should have considered himself guided by the Spirit to undertake the especial mission of discouraging sympathy with the enslaved. A minister belonging to that branch of the Society called "Hicksites," who usually preached in Rose-street Meeting, New-York, had imbibed very strong prejudices against all modern reforms: and he manifested his aversion with a degree of excitement, in language, tone, and gesture, very unusual in that quiet sect. Those who labored in the cause of temperance, anti-slavery, or non-resistance, he was wont to stigmatize as "hireling lecturers," "hireling book-agents," and "emissaries of Satan." Soon after Thomas Hughes consented to return to the South, in consequence of the fair professions of Mr. Darg, this preacher chimed in with the exulting tones of the pro-slavery press, by alluding to it in one of his public discourses as follows. After speaking of the tendency of affliction to produce humility, he went on to say, "As a slave, who had suffered the effects of his criminal conduct, and been thus led to calm reflection, recently chose to go back with this master into slavery, and endure all the evils of that condition, notwithstanding his former experience of them, rather than stay with those hypocritical workers of popular righteousness who had interfered in his behalf. For my own part, I commend his choice. I had a thousand times rather be a slave, and spend my days with slaveholders, than to dwell in companionship with abolitionists."

The state of things among Quakers in the city of New-York may be inferred from the fact that this minister was exceedingly popular, and his style of preaching cordially approved by a majority of them. One of the editors of the Anti-Slavery Standard, at that time, wrote a severe, though by no means abusive article on the subject, headed "Rare Specimen of a Quaker Preacher." This gave great offence, and Isaac T.

Hopper was very much blamed for it. He, and his son-in-law James S.

Gibbons, and his friend Charles Marriott, then belonged to the Executive Committee of the Anti-Slavery Society; and it was a.s.sumed to be their duty to have prevented the publication of the sarcastic article. Charles Harriot was absent from the city when it was published, and Friend Hopper did not see it till after it was in print. When they urged these facts, and stated, moreover, that they had no right to dictate to the editor what he should say, or what he should not say, they were told that they ought to exculpate themselves by a public expression of their disapprobation. But as they did not believe the editorial article contained any mis-statement of facts, they could not conscientiously say any thing that would satisfy the friends of the preacher. It would be tedious to relate the difficulties that followed. There were visits from overseers, and prolonged sessions of committees; a great deal of talking _with_ the accused, and still more talking _about_ them. A strong disposition was manifested to make capital against them out of the Darg Case. Robert H. Morris, who was presiding Judge while that case was pending, and afterward Mayor of New-York, had long known Friend Hopper, and held him in much respect. When he was told that some sought to cast imputations on his character, he was greatly surprised, and offered to give favorable testimony in any form that might be desired. J.R.

Whiting, the District Attorney, expressed the same readiness; and private misrepresentations were silenced by a published certificate from them, testifying that throughout the affair Friend Hopper had merely "exhibited a desire to procure the money for the master, and the manumission of the slave."

The princ.i.p.al argument brought by Friends, against their members uniting with Anti-Slavery Societies, was that they were thus led to mix indiscriminately with people of other denominations, and brought into contact with hireling clergymen. There seemed some inconsistency in this objection, coming from the mouths of men who belonged to Rail Road Corporations, and Bank Stock Companies, and who mingled constantly with slaveholders in Southern trade; for the early testimonies of the Society were quite as explicit against slavery, as against a paid ministry.

However, those of their members who were abolitionists were willing to obviate this objection, if possible. They accordingly formed an a.s.sociation among themselves, "for the relief of those held in slavery, and the improvement of the free people of color." But when this benevolent a.s.sociation asked for the use of Rose-street Meeting-house, their request was not only refused, but condemned as disorderly.

Affairs were certainly in a very singular position. Both branches of the Society of Friends were entirely inert on the subject of slavery. Both expressed pity for the slave, but both agreed that "the way did not open" for them to _do_ anything. If individual members were thus driven to unite in action with other sects upon a subject which seemed to them very important, they were called disorganizers. When they tried to conciliate by forming an a.s.sociation composed of Quakers only, they were told that "as the Society of Friends saw no way to move forward in this concern, such a.s.sociations appeared to reflect upon _them_;" implying that they failed in discharging their duty as a religious body. What could an earnest, direct character, like Isaac T. Hopper, do in the midst of a sect thus situated? He proceeded as he always did. He walked straight forward in what seemed to him the path of duty, and snapped all the lilliputian cords with which they tried to bind him.

Being unable to obtain any apology from their offending members, the Society proceeded to administer its discipline. A complaint was laid before the Monthly Meeting of New-York, in which Isaac T. Hopper, James S. Gibbons, and Charles Marriott, were accused of "being concerned in the publication and support of a paper calculated to excite discord and disunity among Friends." Friend Hopper published a statement, characterised by his usual boldness, and disturbed his mind very little about the result of their proceedings. April, 1842, he wrote thus, to his daughter, Sarah H. Palmer, of Philadelphia: "During my late indisposition, I was induced to enter into a close examination of my own heart; and I could not find that I stood condemned there for the part I have taken in the anti-slavery cause, which has brought upon me so much censure from those 'who know not G.o.d, nor his son Jesus Christ. They profess that they know G.o.d, but in works they deny him.' I have not yet given up our Society as lost. I still live in the faith that it will see better days. I often remember the testimony borne by that devoted and dignified servant of the Lord, Mary Ridgeway; which was to this import: 'The Lord, in his infinite wisdom and mercy, has gathered this Society to be a people, and has placed his name among them; and He has given them n.o.ble testimonies to hold up to the nations; but if they prove unfaithful, those testimonies will be given unto others, who may be compared to the stones of the street; and _they_ will wear the crowns that were intended for this people, who will be cast out, as salt that has lost its savor.' We may plume ourselves upon being the _children_ of Abraham, but in the days of solemn inquisition, which surely will come, it will only add to our condemnation, because we have not done the _works_ of Abraham."

"The Yearly Meeting will soon be upon us, when we shall have a final decision in our cases. I feel perfectly resigned to the result, be it what it may. Indeed, I have sometimes thought I should be happier _out_ of the Society than _in_ it. I should feel more at liberty to 'cry aloud and spare not, to lift up my voice like a trumpet, and show the people their transgressions, and the house of Jacob their sins.' I believe no greater benefit could be conferred on the Society. There are yet many in it who see and deplore its departure from primitive uprightness, but who are afraid to come out as they ought against the evils that prevail in it."

An aged and very worthy Friend in Philadelphia, named Robert Moore, who deeply sympathized with the wrongs of colored people, wrote to Friend Hopper as follows: "From 1822 to 1827, we had many interesting conversations in thy little front room, respecting the distracted state of our Society, and the efforts made to sustain our much beloved brother Elias Hicks, against those who were anxious for his downfall and excommunication. This great excitement grew hotter till the separation in 1827; we not being able to endure any longer the intolerance of the party in power. Well, it appears that the persecuted have now, in their turn, become persecutors; and those who went through the fire aforetime are devoted to pa.s.s through it again. But, my dear friend, I hope thou and all who are doomed to suffer for conscience sake, will stand firm, and not deviate one inch from what you believe to be your duty. They may cast you out of the synagogue, which I fear has become so corrupt that a seat among them has ceased to be an honor, or in any way desirable; but you will pa.s.s through the furnace unscathed. Not a hair of your heads will be singed."

The ecclesiastical proceedings in this case were kept pending more than a year, I think; being carried from the Monthly Meeting to the Quarterly, and thence to the Yearly Meeting. Thirty-six Friends were appointed a committee in the Yearly Meeting. They had six sessions, and finally reported that, after patient deliberation, they found eighteen of their number in favor of confirming the decision of the Quarterly Meeting; fifteen for reversing it; and three who declined giving any judgment in the case. Upon this report, the Yearly Meeting confirmed the decision of the inferior tribunals; and Isaac T. Hopper, James S.

Gibbons, and Charles Marriott were excommunicated; in Quaker phrase, disowned.

I thus expressed myself at the time; and the lapse of ten years has not changed my view of the case: Excommunication for _such_ causes will cut off from the Society their truest, purest, and tenderest spirits. There is Isaac T. Hopper, whose life has been one long chapter of benevolence, an unblotted record of fair integrity. A man so exclusive in his religious attachments that the principles of his Society are to his mind identical with Christianity, and its minutest forms sacred from innovation. A man whose name is first mentioned wherever Quakerism is praised, or benevolence to the slave approved.

There is Charles Marriott, likewise widely known, and of high standing in the Society; mild as a lamb, and tender-hearted as a child; one to whom conflict with others is peculiarly painful, but who nevertheless, when principles are at stake, can say, with the bold-hearted Luther, "G.o.d help me! I cannot otherwise."

There is James S. Gibbons, a young man, and therefore less known; but wherever known, prized for his extreme kindness of heart, his steadfast honesty of purpose, his undisguised sincerity, and his unflinching adherence to his own convictions of duty. A Society has need to be very rich in moral excellence, that can afford to throw away three such members.

Protests and disclaimers against the disownment of these worthy men came from several parts of the country, signed by Friends of high character; and many private letters were addressed to them, expressive of sympathy and approbation. Friend Hopper was always grateful for such marks of respect and friendship; but his own conscience would have sustained him without such aid. He had long felt a deep sadness whenever he was reminded of the _spiritual_ separation between him and the religious Society, whose preachers had exerted such salutary influence on his youthful character; but the _external_ separation was of no consequence.

He attended meeting constantly, as he had ever done, and took his seat on the bench under the preachers' gallery, facing the audience, where he had always been accustomed to sit, when he was an honored member of the Society. Charles Marriott, who was by temperament a much meeker man, said to him one day, "The overseers have called upon me, to represent the propriety of my taking another seat, under existing circ.u.mstances. I expect they will call upon thee, to give the same advice."

"I expect they _won't_," was Isaac's laconic reply; and they never did.

His daughter, Abby H. Gibbons, soon after resigned membership in the Monthly Meeting of New-York for herself and her children; and his sons Josiah and John did the same. The grounds stated were that "the meeting had manifestly departed from the original principles and testimonies of the Society of Friends; that the plainest principles of civil and religious freedom had been violated in the whole proceedings in relation to their father; and that the overseers had prepared an official doc.u.ment calculated to produce false impressions with regard to him; accusing him of 'grossly reproachful conduct' in the well known Darg Case; whereas there was abundant evidence before the public that his proceedings in that case were influenced by the purest and most disinterested motives."

The Philadelphia Ledger, after stating that the Society of Friends in New-York had disowned some of their prominent members for being connected, directly or indirectly, with an Abolition Journal, added the following remark: "This seems rather singular; for we had supposed that Friends were favorably inclined toward the abolition of slavery. But many of their members are highly respectable merchants, extensively engaged in Southern trade. We are informed that they are determined to discountenance all pragmatic interference with the legal and const.i.tutional rights of their brethren at the South. The Quakers have always been distinguished for minding their own business, and permitting others to attend to theirs. They would be the last people to meddle with the rights of _property_."

The Boston Times quoted the paragraph from the Philadelphia Ledger, with the additional remark, "There is no logician like money."

Whether Friends in New-York felt flattered by these eulogiums, I know not; but they appear to have been well deserved.

In 1842 and the year following, Friend Hopper travelled more than usual.

In August '42, he visited his native place, after an absence of twenty years. He and his wife were accompanied from Philadelphia by his son Edward and his daughter Sarah H. Palmer. Of course, the haunts of his boyhood had undergone many changes. Panther's Bridge had disappeared, and Rabbit Swamp and Turkey Causeway no longer looked like the same places. He visited his father's house, then occupied by strangers, and found the ruins of his great-grandfather's dwelling. Down by the pleasant old creek, shaded with large walnut trees and cedars, stood the tombs of many of his relatives; and at Woodbury were the graves of his father and mother, and the parents of his wife. Every spot had something interesting to say of the past. His eyes brightened, and his tongue became voluble with a thousand memories. Had I been present to listen to him then, I should doubtless have been enabled to add considerably to my stock of early anecdotes. He seemed to have brought away from this visit a peculiarly vivid recollection of "poor crazy Joe Gibson." This demented being was sometimes easily controlled, and willing to be useful; at other times, he was perfectly furious and ungovernable. Few people knew how to manage him; but Isaac's parents acquired great influence over him by their uniform system of forbearance and tenderness; their own good sense and benevolence having suggested the ideas which regulate the treatment of insanity at the present period.

The day spent in Woodbury and its vicinity was a bright spot in Friend Hopper's life, to which he always reverted with a kind of saddened pleasure. The heat of the season had been tempered by floating clouds, and when they returned to Philadelphia, there was a faint rainbow in the east. He looked lovingly upon it, and said, "These clouds seem to have followed us all day, on purpose to make everything more pleasant."

In the course of the same month he accepted an invitation to attend the Anti-Slavery Convention at Norristown, Pennsylvania. His appearance there was quite an event. Many friends of the cause, who were strangers to him, were curious to obtain a sight of him, and to hear him address the meeting. Charles C. Burleigh, in an eloquent letter to the Convention, says: "I am glad to hear that Isaac T. Hopper is to be present. That tried old veteran, with his eye undimmed, his natural strength unabated, his resolute look, and calm determined manner, before which the bl.u.s.tering kidnapper, and the self-important oppressor have so often quailed! With the scars of a hundred battles, and the wreaths of an hundred victories in this glorious warfare. With his example of half a century's active service in this holy cause, and his still faithful adherence to it, through evil as well as good report, and in the face of opposition as bitter as sectarian bigotry can stir up. Persecution cannot bow the head, which seventy winters could not blanch, nor the terrors of excommunication chill the heart, in which age could not freeze the kindly flow of warm philanthropy."

I think it was not long after this excursion that his sister Sarah came from Maryland to visit him. She was a pleasant, sensible matron, much respected by all who knew her. I noted down at the time several anecdotes of childhood and youth, which bubbled up in the course of conversations between her and her brother. In her character the hereditary trait of benevolence was manifested in a form somewhat different from his. She had no children of her own, but she brought up, on her husband's farm, nineteen poor boys and girls, and gave most of them a trade. Nearly all of them turned out well.

In the winters of 1842 and '43, Friend Hopper complied with urgent invitations to visit the Anti-Slavery Fair, in Boston; and seldom has a warmer welcome been given to any man. As soon as he appeared in Amory Hall, he was always surrounded by a circle of lively girls attracted by his frank manners, his thousand little pleasantries, and his keen enjoyment of young society. A friend of mine used to say that when she saw them cl.u.s.tering round him, in furs and feathered bonnets, listening to his words so attentively, she often thought it would make as fine a picture as William Penn explaining his treaty to the Indians.

Ellis Gray Loring in a letter to me, says: "We greatly enjoyed Friend Hopper's visit. You cannot conceive how everybody was delighted with him; particularly all our gay young set; James Russell Lowell, William W. Story, and the like. The old gentleman seemed very happy; receiving from all hands evidence of the true respect in which he is held." Mrs.

Loring, writing to his son John, says: "We have had a most delightful visit from your father. Our respect, wonder, and love for him increased daily. I am sure he must have received some pleasure, he bestowed so much. We feel his friendship to be a great acquisition."

Samuel J. May wrote to me: "I cannot tell you how much I was charmed by my interview with Friend Hopper. To me, it was worth more than all the Fair beside. Give my most affectionate respects to him. He very kindly invited me to make his house my home when I next come to New-York; and I am impatient for the time to arrive, that I may accept his invitation."

Edmund Quincy, writing to Friend Hopper's daughter, Mrs. Gibbons, says: "You cannot think how glad we were to see the dear old man. He spent a night with me, to my great contentment, and that of my wife; and to the no small edification of our little boy, to whom breeches and buckles were a great curiosity. My Irish gardener looked at them with reverence; having probably seen nothing so aristocratic, since he left the old country. I love those relics of past time. The Quakers were not so much out, when they censured their members for turning _sans culottes_. Think of Isaac T. Hopper in a pair of pantaloons strapped under his feet!

There is heresy in the very idea. But, costume apart, we were as glad to see Father Hopper, as if he had been our real father in the flesh. I hope he had a right good time. If he had not, I am sure it was not for want of being made much of. I trust his visits to Boston will grow into one of our domestic inst.i.tutions."

In the old gentleman's account of his visit to the Fair, he says: "I was struck with the extreme propriety with which everything was conducted, and with the universal harmony and good-will that prevailed among the numerous friends of the cause, who had collected from all parts of the old Commonwealth, on this interesting occasion. Many of the most distinguished citizens were purchasers, and appeared highly gratified, though not connected with the anti-slavery cause. Lord Morpeth, late Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, attended frequently, made some presents to the Fair, and purchased several articles. I would call him by his Christian name, if I knew it; for it is plain enough that he was not baptized, 'Lord'. His manners were extremely friendly and agreeable, and he expressed himself highly pleased with the exhibition. I had an interesting conversation with him on the subject of slavery; particularly in relation to the Amistad captives, and the case of the Creole."

"I had an opportunity to make a valuable addition to my collection of the works of ancient Friends. On the book-table, I found that rare old volume, 'The Way Cast Up,' written by George Keith, while in unity with the Society. I took it home with me to my chamber; and as I glanced over it, my mind was moved to a painful retrospect of the Society of Friends in its original state, when its members were at liberty to follow the light, as manifested to them in the silence and secrecy of their own souls. I seemed to see them entering places appointed for worship by various professors, and there testifying against idolatry, superst.i.tion, and a mercenary priesthood. I saw them entering the courts, calling upon judges and lawyers to do justice. I saw them receive contumely and abuse, as a reward for these acts of dedication. My imagination followed them to loathsome dungeons, where many of them died a lingering death. I saw the blood trickling from the lacerated backs of innocent men and women. I saw William Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, Mary Dyer, and William Leddra, pa.s.s through the streets of Boston, pinioned, and with halters about their necks, on the way to execution; yet rejoicing that they were found worthy to suffer, even unto death, for their fidelity to Christ; sustained through those last bitter moments by an approving conscience and the favor of G.o.d.

"I now see the inhabitants of that same city surpa.s.sed by none on the globe, for liberality, candor, and benevolence. I see them taking the lead of very many of the descendants of the martyrs referred to, in many things, and at an immeasurable distance. I compared the state of the Society of Friends in the olden time with what it now is. In some sections of the country, they, in their turn, have become persecutors.

Not with dungeons, halter, and fire; for those modes of punishment have gone by; but by ejecting their members from religious fellowship, and defaming their characters for doing that which they conscientiously believe is required at their hands; casting out their names as evil-doers for honestly endeavoring to support one of the most dignified testimonies ever given to the Society of Friends to hold up before a sinful world. These reflections pained me deeply; for all the convictions of my soul, and all my early religious recollections, bind me fast to the principles of Friends; and I cannot but mourn to see how the world has shorn them of their strength. I spent nearly a sleepless night, and was baptized with my tears."

"In the morning, my mind was in some degree rea.s.sured with the hope that there are yet left, throughout the land, 'seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which has not kissed him;' and that among these shall yet 'arise judges, as at the first, and counsellors, and lawgivers, as in the beginning.' My soul longeth for the coming of that day, more than for the increase of corn, and wine, and oil."

In the Spring of 1843, Friend Hopper visited Rhode Island, and Bucks County, in Pennsylvania, to address the people in behalf of the enslaved. He was accompanied by Lucinda Wilmarth, a very intelligent and kind-hearted young person, who sometimes spoke on the same subject.

After she returned to her home in Ma.s.sachusetts, she wrote as follows, to the venerable companion of her mission; "Dear Father Hopper, I see by the papers that Samuel Johnson has gone home. I well remember our call upon him, on the second Sunday morning of our sojourn in that land of roses. I also remember his radiant and peaceful countenance, which told of a life well spent, and of calm and hopeful antic.i.p.ations of the future. I love to dwell upon my visit to Pennsylvania. I never saw happier or more lovely homes. Never visited dwellings where those little household divinities, goodness, order, and cheerfulness, held more universal sway. I was enabled to view men and things from an entirely new point of view. I had previously seen nothing of Quakerism, except in a narrow orthodox form, with which I had no sympathy. I was much pleased with the apparent freedom and philanthropy of the Friends I met there. I know not whether it was their peculiar _ism_, that made them so comparatively free and liberal. Perhaps I unconsciously a.s.signed to their Quakerism what merely belonged to their manhood. But the fact is, they came nearer to realizing the ideal of Quakerism, a.s.sociated in my mind with Fox and Penn, than any people I have ever seen.

"I stopped at Providence on my way home. As soon as I entered Isaac Hale's door, little Alice began to skip with joy, as she did that day when we returned so unexpectedly to dine; but the next moment, she looked down the stair-case, and exclaimed in a most anxious tone, 'Why _did'nt_ Grandfather Hopper come? What _did_ you come alone for? What _shall_ I do?' On my arrival home, the first noisy greetings of my little brothers and sisters had scarcely subsided, before they began to inquire, 'Why did'nt your _other_ father come, too?' They complained that you had not written a single 'Tale of Oppression' for the Standard since you were here. But a week after, my little sister came running with an open newspaper in her hand, exclaiming, 'Father Hopper has made another story!' She has named her doll for your little grand-daughter, Lucy Gibbons, because you used to talk about her; and every day she reads the book you gave her."

Friend Hopper found great satisfaction in the perusal of the above letter, not only on account of his great regard for the writer, but because many of the Friends in Bucks County were the delight of his heart. He was always telling me that if I wanted to see the best farms, the best Quakers, and the most comfortable homes in the world, I must go to Bucks County. In his descriptions, it was a blooming land of peace and plenty, approaching as near to an earthly paradise, as could be reasonably expected.

At the commencement of 1845, the American Anti-Slavery Society made some changes in their office at New-York, by which the duties of editor and treasurer, were performed by the same person; consequently Friend Hopper's services were no longer needed. When he retired from the office he had held during four years, the Society unanimously voted him thanks for the fidelity with which he had discharged the duties entrusted to him.

At that time, several intelligent and benevolent gentlemen in the city of New-York were much interested in the condition of criminals discharged from prisons, without money, without friends, and with a character so blasted, that it was exceedingly difficult to procure employment. However sincerely desirous such persons might be to lead a better life, it seemed almost impossible for them to carry their good resolutions into practice. The inconsiderate harshness of society forced them back into dishonest courses, even when it was contrary to their own inclinations. That this was a fruitful source of crime, and consequently a great increase of expense to the state, no one could doubt who candidly examined the subject. To meet the wants of this cla.s.s of sufferers, it was proposed to form a Prison a.s.sociation, whose business it should be to inquire into individual cases, and extend such sympathy and a.s.sistance as circ.u.mstances required. This subject had occupied Friend Hopper's mind almost as early as the wrongs of the slave. He attended the meetings, and felt a lively interest in the discussions, in which he often took part. The editor of the New-York Evening Mirror, alluding to one of these occasions, says: "When Mr. Hopper rose to offer some remarks, we thought the burst of applause which greeted the quaint old man, (in the very costume of Franklin) was a spontaneous homage to goodness; and we thanked G.o.d and took courage for poor human nature."