heard of thy military exploits, I supposed thou wert a brave man;
but here thou art pouring forth blasphemies, to keep up the appearance
of courage, while thy pale face and quivering lips show that thou art in
mortal fear. I am ashamed of thee. If thou hast no reverence for Deity
thyself, thou shouldst show some regard for the feelings of those who
have." The officer ceased swearing, and treated his adviser with marked
respect. A friendship was formed between them, which continued as long
as the captain lived.

The clergyman on board afterward said to Friend Hopper, "If any other
person had talked to him in that manner, he would have knocked him
down."

In about two hours, the vessel floated off the sandbar and went safely
into the harbor of New-York. At the custom-house, the clergyman was in
some perplexity about a large quantity of books he had brought with him,
on which it was proposed to charge high duties. "Perhaps I can get them
through for thee," said Friend Hopper. "I will try." He went up to the
officer, and said, "Isn't it a rule of the custom-house not to charge a
man for the tools of his trade?" He replied that it was. "Then thou art
bound to let this priest's books pass free," rejoined the Friend.
"Preaching is the trade he gets his living by; and these books are the
tools he must use." The clergyman being aware of Quaker views with
regard to a paid ministry, seemed doubtful whether to be pleased or not,
with _such_ a mode of helping him out of difficulty. However, he took
the joke as good naturedly as it was offered, and the books passed free,
on the assurance that they were all for his own library.

Friend Hopper's bookstore in New-York was a place of great resort for
members of his own sect. His animated style of conversation, his
thousand and one anecdotes of runaway slaves, his descriptions of keen
encounters with the "Orthodox," in the process of separation, attracted
many listeners. His intelligence and well-known conscientiousness
commanded respect, and he was held in high estimation by his own branch
of the Society, though the opposite party naturally entertained a less
favorable opinion of the "Hicksite" champion. Such a character as he was
must necessarily always be a man of mark, with warm friends and bitter
enemies.

His resemblance to Bonaparte attracted attention in New-York, as it had
done in Philadelphia. Not long after he removed to that city, there was
a dramatic representation at th