ad exhorted him to attend
Friends' meeting while he was in Charleston. He told him that a meeting
had been established there many years ago, but he supposed there were
not half a dozen members remaining, and probably they had no ministry;
for the original settlers had died, or left Carolina on account of their
testimony against slavery. But as Quakers believe that silent worship is
often more blessed to the soul, than the most eloquent preaching, he had
a strong desire that his son should attend the meeting constantly, even
if he found but two or three to unite with him. The young man promised
that he would do so. Accordingly, when he arrived in Charleston, he
inquired for the meeting-house, and was informed that it was well nigh
deserted. On the first day of the week, he went to the place designated,
and found a venerable, kind-looking Friend seated under the preachers'
gallery. In obedience to a signal from him, he took a seat by his side,
and they remained there in silence nearly two hours. Then the old man
turned and shook hands with him, as an indication that the meeting was
concluded, according to the custom of the Society of Friends. When he
found that he was talking to the son of Isaac T. Hopper, and that he had
promised to attend meeting there, during his stay in Charleston, he was
so much affected, that his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, I shall be glad
of thy company," said he; "for most of the time, this winter, I am here
all alone. My old friends and companions have all died, or moved away. I
come here twice on First days, and once on Fifth day, and sit all, all
alone, till I feel it right to leave the house and go home."

This lonely old worshipper once had an intimate friend, who for a long
time was his only companion in the silent meeting. At the close, they
shook hands and walked off together, enjoying a kindly chat on their way
home. Unfortunately, some difficulty afterward occurred between them,
which completely estranged them from each other. Both still clung to
their old place of worship. They took their accustomed seats, and
remained silent for a couple of hours; but they parted without shaking
hands, or speaking a single word. This alienation almost broke the old
man's heart. After awhile, he lost even, this shadow of companionship,
and there remained only "the voice within," and echoes of memory from
the empty benches.

While Mr. Hopper remained in Charleston, he went to the Quaker
meeting-house e