branch, with whom he had been brought into painful collision, in years gone by.
After several hours of restlessness and suffering, he fell into a tranquil slumber, which lasted a long time.
The serene expression of his countenance remained unchanged, and there was no motion of limb or muscle, when the spirit passed away.
This was between eight and nine o'clock in the evening, on the seventh of May, 1852.
After a long interval of silent weeping, his widow laid her head on the shoulder of one of his sons, and said, ‘Forty-seven years ago this very day, my good father died; and from that day to this, he has been the best friend I ever had.’
No public buildings were hung with crape, when news went forth that the Good Samaritan
But prisoners, and poor creatures in dark and desolate corners, wept when they heard the tidings.
Ann W. with whose waywardness he had borne so patiently, escaped from confinement, several miles distant, and with sobs implored ‘to see that good old man once more.’
sent the following letter to the Committee
of the Prison Association:
When I read the account of the venerable Friend Hopper's death, I could not help weeping.
It touched a tender chord in my heart, when I came to the account of his being the prisoner's friend.
My soul responded to that; for I had realized it. About six