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years ago, I was one of those who got good advice from “the old man.”
I carried it out, and met with great success.
I was fatherless, motherless, and friendless, with no home, nobody to take me by the hand.
I felt, as the poet has it,
A pilgrim stranger here I roam,
From place to place I'm driven;
My friends are gone, and I'm in gloom;
This earth is all a lonely tomb;
I have no home but heaven.
Go on in the work of humanity and love, till the Good Master shall say, “It is enough.
Come up higher.”
Nearly all the domestics in Friend
Hopper's neighborhood attended the funeral solemnities.
One of these said with tears, ‘I am an orphan; but while he lived, I always felt as if I had a father.
He always had something pleasant to say to me, but now everything seems gone.’
A very poor man, who had been an object of his charity, and whom he had employed in many little services, could not rest till he had earned enough to buy a small Arbor-vitae, (Tree of Life,) to plant upon his grave.
The Executive Committee of the Prison Association met, and passed the following Resolutions:
Resolved:—That the combination of virtues which distinguished and adorned the character of our lamented friend, eminently qualified him for the accomplishment of