were alone, Prince confessed that he was the slave in question.  In the course of his narrative, it appeared that he had been sent into Pennsylvania by his mistress, and had resided there with a relative of hers two years.  Friend Hopper told him to dry up his tears, for it was in his power to protect him.  When he returned to the office, he informed the magistrate that Prince Hopkins was a free man; having resided in Pennsylvania, with the consent of his mistress, a much longer time than the law required.  Mr. Kinsmore was irritated, and demanded that the colored man should be imprisoned till he could obtain legal advice.

“Let him go and finish the wood he was sawing,” said Friend Hopper.  “I will be responsible for his appearance whenever he is wanted.  If the magistrate will give me a commitment, Prince will call at my house after he has finished sawing his wood, and I will send him to jail with it.  He can remain there, until the facts I have stated are clearly proved.”

The slave-holder and his lawyer seemed to regard this proposition as an insult.  They railed at Friend Hopper for his “impertinent interference,” and for the absurd idea of trusting “that nigger” under such circumstances.

He replied, “I would rather trust ‘that nigger,’ as you call him, than either of you.”  So saying, he marched off with the magistrate’s mittimus in his pocket.

When Prince Hopkins had finished his job of sawing, he called for the commitment, and carried it to the jailor, who locked him up.  Satisfactory evidence of his freedom was soon obtained, and he was discharged.

The colored people appeared to better advantage with their undoubted friend, than they possibly could have done where a barrier of prejudice existed.  They were not afraid to tell him their experiences in their own way, with natural pathos, here and there dashed with fun.  A fine-looking, athletic fugitive, telling him his story one day, said, “When I first run away, I met some people who were dreadful afraid I couldn’t take care of myself.  But thinks I to myself I took care of master and myself too for a long spell; and I guess I can make out.”  With a roguish expression laughing all over his face, he added, “I don’t look as if I was suffering for a master; do I, Mr. Hopper?”

Though slaveholders had abundant reason to dread Isaac T. Hopper, as they would a blister of Spanish flies, yet he had no hardness of feeling toward them, or even toward kidnappers; hateful as he deemed the system, which produced them both.

In 1801, a sober industrious family of free colored people, living in Pennsylvania on the borders of Maryland, were attacked in the night by a band of kidnappers.  The parents were aged, and needed the services of their children for support.  Knowing that the object of the marauders was to carry them off and sell them to slave speculators, the old father defended them to the utmost of his power.  In the struggle, he was wounded by a pistol, and one of his daughters received a shot, which caused her death.  One of the sons, who was very ill in bed, was beaten and bruised till he was covered with blood.  But mangled and crippled as he was, he contrived to drag himself to a neighboring barn, and hide himself under the straw.