rong he had done to a helpless and unoffending fellow-creature,
Friend Hopper wrote to him as follows: "Yesterday, I visited the poor
old man in prison, whom thou hast so perfidiously betrayed. Gloomy and
hopeless as his case is, I would prefer it to thine. Thou hast received
fifty dollars as the reward of thy treachery; but what good can it do
thee? Canst thou lay down thy head at night, without feeling the sharp
goadings of a guilty conscience? Canst thou ask forgiveness of thy sins
of our Heavenly Father, whom thou hast so grievously insulted by thy
hypocrisy? Judas betrayed his master for thirty pieces of silver, and
afterward hung himself. Thou hast betrayed thy brother for fifty; and if
thy conscience is not seared, as with hot iron, thy compunction must be
great. I feel no disposition to upbraid thee. I have no doubt thy own
heart does that sufficiently; for our beneficent Creator will not suffer
any to be at ease in their sins. Thy friend, I.T.H."

The worthy old Quaker in New-Jersey was not aware of his son's
villainous conduct until some time after. When the circumstances were
made known to the family they were exceedingly mortified and afflicted.

Friend Hopper used to tell another story, which forms a beautiful
contrast to the foregoing painful narrative. I repeat it, because it
illustrates the tenderness of spirit, which has so peculiarly
characterized the Society of Friends, and because I hope it may fall
like dew on hearts parched by vindictive feelings. Charles Carey lived
near Philadelphia, in a comfortable house with a few acres of pasture
adjoining. A young horse, apparently healthy, though lean, was one day
offered him in the market for fifty dollars. The cheapness tempted him
to purchase; for he thought the clover of his pastures would soon put
the animal in good condition, and enable him to sell him at an advanced
price. He was too poor to command the required sum himself, but he
borrowed it of a friend. The horse, being well fed and lightly worked,
soon became a noble looking animal, and was taken to the city for sale.
But scarcely had he entered the market, when a stranger stepped up and
claimed him as his property, recently stolen. Charles Carey's son, who
had charge of the animal, was taken before a magistrate. Isaac T. Hopper
was sent for, and easily proved that the character of the young man and
his father was above all suspicion. But the stranger produced
satisfactory evidence that he was th