Isaac T. Hopper Part 23

He very often mingled with affairs in the street, as he pa.s.sed along.

One day, when he saw a man beating his horse brutally, he stepped up to him and said, very seriously, "Dost thou know that some people think men change into animals when they die?"

The stranger's attention was arrested by such an unexpected question, and he answered that he never was acquainted with anybody who had that belief.

"But some people do believe it," rejoined Friend Hopper; "and they also believe that animals may become men. Now I am thinking if thou shouldst ever be a horse, and that horse should ever be a man, with such a temper as thine, the chance is thou wilt get some cruel beatings." Having thus changed the current of his angry mood, he proceeded to expostulate with him in a friendly way; and the poor beast was reprieved, for that time, at least.

He could imitate the Irish brogue very perfectly; and it was a standing jest with him to make every Irish stranger believe he was a countryman.

During his visit to Ireland, he had become so well acquainted with various localities, that I believe he never in any instance failed to deceive them, when he said, "Och! and sure I came from old Ireland meself." After amusing himself in this way for a while, he would tell them, "It is true I did come from Ireland; but, to confess the truth, I went there first."

Once, when he saw two Irishmen fighting, he seized one of them by the arm, and said, "I'm from ould Ireland. If thou _must_ fight, I'm the man for thee. Thou hadst better let that poor fellow alone. I'm a dale stouter than he is; and sure it would be braver to fight me." The man thus accosted looked at him with surprise, for an instant, then burst out laughing, threw his coat across his arm, and walked off.

Another time, when he found two Irishmen quarrelling, he stepped up and inquired what was the matter. "He's got my prayer-book," exclaimed one of them; "and I'll give him a bating for it; by St. Patrick, I will."

"Let me give thee a piece of advice," said Friend Hopper. "It's a very hot day, and bating is warm work. I'm thinking thou had'st better put it off till the cool o' the morning." The men, of course, became cooler before they had done listening to this playful remonstrance.

Once, when he was travelling in the stage, they pa.s.sed a number of Irishmen with cart-loads of stones, to mend the road. Friend Hopper suggested to the driver that he had better ask them to remove a very large stone, which lay directly in the way and seemed dangerous. "It will be of no use if I do," replied the driver. "They'll only curse me, and tell me to go round the old road, over the hill; for the fact is, this road is not fairly opened to the public yet." Friend Hopper jumped out, and asked if they would turn that big stone aside. "And sure ye've no business here at all," they replied. "Ye may jist go round by the ould road." "Och!" said Friend Hopper, "and is this the way I'm trated by my c.o.o.ntryman? I'm from Ireland meself; and sure I did'nt expect to be trated so by my c.o.o.ntrymen in a strange c.o.o.ntry."

"And are ye from ould Ireland?" inquired they.

"Indade I am," he replied.

"And what part may ye be from?" said they.

"From Mount Mellick, Queen's County," rejoined he; and he began to talk familiarly about the priest and the doctor there, till he got the laborers into a real good humor, and they removed the stone with the utmost alacrity. The pa.s.sengers in the stage listened to this conversation, and supposed that he was in reality an Irish Quaker. When he returned to them and explained the joke, they had a hearty laugh over his powers of mimicry.

His tricks with children were innumerable. They would often be lying in wait for him in the street; and if he pa.s.sed without noticing them, they would sometimes pull at the skirts of his coat, to obtain the customary attention. Occasionally, he would observe a little troop staring at him, attracted by the singularity of his costume. Then, he would stop, face about, stretch out his leg, and say, "Come now, boys! Come, and take a good look!" It was his delight to steal up behind them, and tickle their necks, while he made a loud squealing noise. The children, supposing some animal had set upon them, would jump as if they had been shot. And how he would laugh! When he met a boy with dirty face or hands, he would stop him, and inquire if he ever studied chemistry. The boy, with a wondering stare, would answer, "No." "Well then, I will teach thee how to perform a curious chemical experiment," said Friend Hopper. "Go home, take a piece of soap, put it in water, and rub it briskly on thy hands and face. Thou hast no idea what a beautiful froth it will make, and how much whiter thy skin will be. That's a chemical experiment. I advise thee to try it."

The character of his wife was extremely modest and reserved; and he took mischievous pleasure in telling strangers the story of their courtship in a way that made her blush. "Dost thou know what Hannah answered, when I asked if she would marry me?" said he. "I will tell thee how it was.

I was walking home with her one evening, soon after the death of her mother, and I mentioned to her that as she was alone now, I supposed she intended to make some change in her mode of living. When she said yes, I told her I had been thinking it would be very pleasant to have her come and live with me. 'That would suit me exactly,' said she. This prompt reply made me suppose she might not have understood my meaning; and I explained that I wanted to have her become a member of my family; but she replied again, 'There is nothing I should like better.'"

The real fact was, the quiet and timid Hannah Attmore was not dreaming of such a thing as a proposal of marriage. She supposed he spoke of receiving her as a boarder in his family. When she at last perceived his meaning, she slipped her arm out of his very quickly, and was too much confused to utter a word. But it amused him to represent that she seized the opportunity the moment it was offered.

There was one of the anti-slavery agents who did everything in a dashing, wholesale style, and was very apt to give peremptory orders.

One day he wrote a letter on business, to which the following postscript was appended: "Give the hands at your office a tremendous blowing up.

They need it." Friend Hopper briefly replied: "According to thy orders, I have given the hands at our office a tremendous blowing up. They want to know what it is for. Please inform me by return of mail."

When the Prison a.s.sociation of New-York pet.i.tioned to be incorporated, he went to Albany on business therewith connected. He was then a stranger at the seat of government, though they afterward came to know him well. When he was seated in the senate-chamber, a man came to him and told him to take off his hat. He replied, "I had rather not. I am accustomed to keep it on."

"But it is contrary to the rules," rejoined the officer. "I am ordered to turn out any man who refuses to uncover his head."

The Quaker quietly responded, "Very well, friend, obey thy orders."

"Then, will you please to walk out, sir?" said the officer.

"No," replied Friend Hopper. "Didst thou not tell me thou wert ordered to turn me out? Dost thou suppose I am going to do thy duty for thee?"

The officer looked embarra.s.sed, and said, half smiling, "But how am I to get you out?"

"Carry me out, to be sure," rejoined Friend Hopper. "I see no other way."

The officer went and whispered to the Speaker, who glanced at the n.o.ble-looking old gentleman, and advised that he should be let alone.

Sometimes his jests conveyed cutting sarcasms. One day, when he was riding in an omnibus, he opened a port-monnaie lined with red. A man with very flaming visage, who was somewhat intoxicated, and therefore very much inclined to be talkative, said, "Ah, that is a very gay pocket-book for a Quaker to carry."

"Yes, it is very red," replied Friend Hopper; "but is not so red as thy nose." The pa.s.sengers all smiled, and the man seized the first opportunity to make his escape.

A poor woman once entered an omnibus, which was nearly full, and stood waiting for some one to make room. A proud-looking lady sat near Friend Hopper, and he asked her to move a little, to accommodate the new comer.

But she looked very glum, and remained motionless. After examining her countenance for an instant, he said, "If thy face often looks so, I shouldn't like to have thee for a neighbor." The pa.s.sengers exchanged smiles at this rebuke, and the lady frowned still more deeply.

One of the jury in the Darg case was "a son of Abraham," rather conspicuous for his prejudice against colored people. Some time after the proceedings were dropped, Friend Hopper happened to meet him, and entered into conversation on the subject. The Jew was very bitter against "that rascally thief, Tom Hughes." "It does not become _thee_ to be so very severe," said Friend Hopper; "for thy ancestors were slaves in Egypt, and went off with the gold and silver jewels they borrowed of their masters."

One day he met several of the Society of Friends, whom he had not seen for some time. Among them was an Orthodox Friend, who was rather stiff in his manners. The others shook hands with Isaac; but when he approached "the Orthodox," he merely held out his finger.

"Why dost thou offer me thy finger?" said he.

"I don't allow people of certain principles to get very deep hold of _me_," was the cold reply.

"Thou needest have no uneasiness on that score," rejoined Friend Hopper; "for there never was anything deep in thee to get hold of."

The sense of justice, so conspicuous in boyhood, always remained a distinguishing trait in his character. Once, after riding half a mile, he perceived that he had got into the wrong omnibus. When he jumped out, the driver called for pay; but he answered, "I don't owe thee anything.

I've been carried the wrong way." This troubled him afterward, when he considered that he had used the carriage and horses, and that the mistake was his own fault. He kept on the look-out for the driver, but did not happen to see him again, until several weeks afterward. He called to him to stop, and paid the sixpence.

"Why, you refused to pay me, when I asked you," said the driver.

"I know I did," he replied; "but I repented of it afterward. I was in a hurry then, and I did not reflect that the mistake was my fault, not thine; and that I ought to pay for riding half a mile with thy horses, though they did carry me the wrong way." The man laughed, and said he didn't often meet with such conscientious pa.s.sengers.

The tenacity of the old gentleman's memory was truly remarkable. He often repeated letters, which he had written or received twenty years before on some memorable occasion; and if opportunity occurred to compare them with the originals, it would be found that he had scarcely varied a word. He always maintained that he could distinctly remember some things, which happened before he was two years old. One day, when his parents were absent, and Polly was busy about her work, he sat bolstered up in his cradle, when a sudden gust of wind blew a large piece of paper through the entry. To his uneducated senses, it seemed to be a living creature, and he screamed violently. It was several hours before he recovered from his extreme terror. When his parents returned, he tried to make them understand how a strange thing had come into the house, and run, and jumped, and made a noise. But his lisping language was so very imperfect, that they were unable to conjecture what had so frightened him. For a long time after, he would break out into sudden screams, whenever the remembrance came over him. At seventy-five years old, he told me he remembered exactly how the paper then appeared to him, and what sensations of terror it excited in his infant breast.

He had a large old-fashioned cow-bell, which was always rung to summon the family to their meals. He resisted having one of more modern construction, because he said that pleasantly reminded him of the time when he was a boy, and used to drive the cows to pasture. Sometimes, he rang it much longer than was necessary to summon the household. On such occasions, I often observed him smiling while he stood shaking the bell; and he would say, "I am thinking how Polly looked, when the cow kicked her over; milk-pail and all. I can see it just as if it happened yesterday. O, what fun it was!"

He often spoke of the first slave whose escape he managed, in the days of his apprenticeship. He was wont to exclaim, "How well I remember the anxious, imploring, look that poor fellow gave me, when I told him I would be his friend! It rises up before me now. If I were a painter, I could show it to thee."

But clearly above all other things, did he remember every look and tone of his beloved Sarah; even in the days when they trudged to school together, hand in hand. The recollection of this first love, closely intertwined with his first religious impressions, was the only flowery spot of romance in the old gentleman's very practical character. When he was seventy years of age, he showed me a piece of writing she had copied for him, when she was a girl of fourteen. It was preserved in the self-same envelope, in which she sent it, and pinned with the same pin, long since blackened by age. I said, "Be careful not to lose that pin."

"Lose it!" he exclaimed. "No money could tempt me to part with it. I loved the very ground she trod upon."

He was never weary of eulogizing her comely looks, beautiful manners, sound principles, and sensible conversation. The worthy companion of his later life never seemed troubled by such remarks. She not only "listened to a sister's praises with unwounded ear," but often added a heartfelt tribute to the virtues of her departed friend.

It is very common for old people to grow careless about their personal appearance, and their style of conversation; but Friend Hopper was remarkably free from such faults. He was exceedingly pure in his mind, and in his personal habits. He never alluded to any subject that was unclean, never made any indelicate remark, or used any unseemly expression. There was never the slightest occasion for young people to feel uneasy concerning what he might say. However lively his mood might be, his fun was always sure to be restrained by the nicest sense of natural propriety. He shaved, and took a cold plunge-bath every day. Not a particle of mud or dust was allowed to remain upon his garments. He always insisted on blacking his own shoes; for it was one of his principles not to be waited upon, while he was well enough to wait upon himself. They were always as polished as j.a.pan; and every Sat.u.r.day night, his silver buckles were made as bright as a new dollar, in readiness to go to meeting the next day. His dress was precisely like that worn by William Penn. At the time I knew him, I believe he was the only Quaker in the country, who had not departed from that model in the slightest degree. It was in fact the dress of all English gentlemen, in King Charles's time; and the only peculiarity of William Penn was, that he wore it without embroidery or ornament of any kind, for the purpose of protesting against the extravagance of the fashionable world.

Therefore, the _spirit_ of his intention and that of other early Friends, would be preserved by wearing dress cut according to the prevailing mode, but of plain materials, and entirely unornamented.

However, Friend Hopper was attached to the ancient costume from early a.s.sociation, and he could not quite banish the idea that any change in it would be a degree of conformity to the fashions of the world. The long stockings, and small clothes buckled at the knee, were well adapted to his finely formed limbs; and certainly he and his lady-like Hannah, in their quaint garb of the olden time, formed a very agreeable picture.

He had no peculiarities with regard to eating or drinking. He always followed the old-fashioned substantial mode of living, to which he had been accustomed in youth, and of which moderation in all things was the rule. For luxuries he had no taste. He thought very little about his food; but when it was before him, he ate with the vigorous appet.i.te natural to strong health and very active habits. When his health failed for a time in Philadelphia, and he seemed wasting away to a shadow, his physician recommended tobacco. He found great benefit from it, and in consequence of the habit then formed he became an inveterate smoker, and continued so till he was past seventy years old.

Being out of health for a short time, at that period, the doctor told him he thought smoking was not good for his complaint. He accordingly discontinued the practice, and formed a resolution not to renew it. When he recovered, it cost him a good deal of physical annoyance to conquer the long-settled habit; but he had sufficient strength of mind to persevere in the difficult task, and he never again used tobacco in any form. Speaking of this to his son Edward, he said, "The fact is, whoever cures himself of any selfish indulgence, becomes a better man. It may seem strange that I should set out to improve at my age; but better late than never."

He was eminently domestic in his character. Perhaps no man ever lived, who better enjoyed staying at home. He loved to invite his grand-children, and write them pleasant little notes about the squirrel-pie, or some other rarity, which he had in preparation for them. He seldom went out of his own family circle, except on urgent business, or to attend to some call of humanity. He was always very attentive in waiting upon his wife to meeting, or elsewhere, and spent a large portion of his evenings in reading to her from the newspapers, or some book of Travels, or the writings of early Friends. No man in the country had such a complete Quaker library. He contrived to pick up every rare old volume connected with the history of his sect. He had a wonderful fondness and reverence for many of those books. They seemed to stand to him in the place of old religious friends, who had parted from his side in the journey of life. There, at least, he found Quakerism that had not degenerated; that breathed the same spirit as of yore.

I presume that his religious opinions resembled those of Elias Hicks.