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 God 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 gratitude.  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 passed 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