with characteristic zeal. In fact, he seems to have been
the Napoleon of the battle. It was not in his nature intentionally to
misrepresent any man; and even when the controversy was raging most
furiously, I believe there never was a time when he would not willingly
have acknowledged a mistake the moment he perceived it. But his
temperament was such, that wherever he deemed a principle of truth,
justice, or freedom was at stake, he could never quit an adversary till
he had demolished him completely, and _convinced_ him that he was
demolished; though he often felt great personal kindness toward the
individual thus prostrated, and was always willing to render him any
friendly service. He used to say that his resistance in this controversy
was principally roused by the disposition which he saw manifested "to
crush worthy, innocent Friends, for mere difference of opinion;" and no
one, who knew him well, could doubt that on this subject, as on others,
he was impelled by a sincere love of truth and justice. But neither he
nor any other person ever entered the lists of theological controversy
without paying dearly for the encounter. Perpetual strife grieved and
disturbed his own spirit, while his energy, perseverance, and bluntness
of speech, gained him many enemies. Wherever this unfortunate sectarian
schism was introduced, it divided families, and burst asunder the bonds
of friendship. For a long time, they seemed to be a Society of Enemies,
instead of a Society of Friends. In this respect, no one suffered more
acutely than Isaac T. Hopper. It was his nature to form very strong
friendships; and at this painful juncture, many whom he had long loved
and trusted, parted from him. Among them was his cousin Joseph Whitall,
who had embraced Quakerism at the same period of life, who had been the
friend of his boyhood, and the cherished companion of later years. They
had no personal altercation, but their intimacy gradually cooled off,
and they became as strangers.

He had encountered other difficulties also, at a former period of his
life, the shadows of which still lay across his path. About twelve or
fifteen years after his marriage, his health began to fail. His
vigorous frame pined away to a mere shadow, and he was supposed to be
in a consumption. At the same time, he found himself involved in
pecuniary difficulties, the burden of which weighed very heavily upon
him, for many reasons. His strong sense of justice made it painful