they did not so readily respond.  One day, when he invited the emigrants to join him in prayer, an old Irish woman replied, “I’d rather play a game o’ cards, than hear you prache and pray.”  She pointed to Friend Hopper, and added, “He comes and stays among us, and always spakes a word o’ comfort, and does us some good.  But you come and prache and pray, and then you are gone.  One look from that Quaker gintleman is worth all the praching and praying that be in you.”

The vessel encountered a dense fog, and ran on a sand bank as they approached the Jersey shore.  A tremendous sea was rolling, and dashed against the ship with such force, that she seemed every moment in danger of being shattered into fragments.  If there had been a violent gale of wind, all must have been inevitably lost.  The passengers were generally in a state of extreme terror.  Screams and groans were heard in every direction.  But Friend Hopper’s mind was preserved in a state of great equanimity.  He entreated the people to be quiet, and try to keep possession of their faculties, that they might be ready to do whatever was best, in case of emergency.  Seeing him so calm, they gathered closely round him, as if they thought he had some power to save them.  There was a naval officer on board, whose frenzied state of feeling vented itself in blasphemous language.  Friend Hopper, who was always disturbed by irreverent use of the name of Deity, was peculiarly shocked by it under these solemn circumstances.  He walked up to the officer, put his hand on his shoulder, and looking him in the face, said, “From what I have heard of thy military exploits, I supposed thou wert a brave man; but here thou art pouring forth blasphemies, to keep up the appearance of courage, while thy pale face and quivering lips show that thou art in mortal fear.  I am ashamed of thee.  If thou hast no reverence for Deity thyself, thou shouldst show some regard for the feelings of those who have.”  The officer ceased swearing, and treated his adviser with marked respect.  A friendship was formed between them, which continued as long as the captain lived.

The clergyman on board afterward said to Friend Hopper, “If any other person had talked to him in that manner, he would have knocked him down.”

In about two hours, the vessel floated off the sandbar and went safely into the harbor of New-York.  At the custom-house, the clergyman was in some perplexity about a large quantity of books he had brought with him, on which it was proposed to charge high duties.  “Perhaps I can get them through for thee,” said Friend Hopper.  “I will try.”  He went up to the officer, and said, “Isn’t it a rule of the custom-house not to charge a man for the tools of his trade?” He replied that it was.  “Then thou art bound to let this priest’s books pass free,” rejoined the Friend.  “Preaching is the trade he gets his living by; and these books are the tools he must use.”  The clergyman being aware of Quaker views with regard to a paid ministry, seemed doubtful whether to be pleased or not, with such a mode of helping him out of difficulty.  However, he took the joke as good naturedly as it was offered, and the books passed free, on the assurance that they were all for his own library.