ing four years, the Society unanimously voted him thanks
for the fidelity with which he had discharged the duties entrusted to
him.

At that time, several intelligent and benevolent gentlemen in the city
of New-York were much interested in the condition of criminals
discharged from prisons, without money, without friends, and with a
character so blasted, that it was exceedingly difficult to procure
employment. However sincerely desirous such persons might be to lead a
better life, it seemed almost impossible for them to carry their good
resolutions into practice. The inconsiderate harshness of society forced
them back into dishonest courses, even when it was contrary to their own
inclinations. That this was a fruitful source of crime, and consequently
a great increase of expense to the state, no one could doubt who
candidly examined the subject. To meet the wants of this class of
sufferers, it was proposed to form a Prison Association, whose business
it should be to inquire into individual cases, and extend such sympathy
and assistance as circumstances required. This subject had occupied
Friend Hopper's mind almost as early as the wrongs of the slave. He
attended the meetings, and felt a lively interest in the discussions, in
which he often took part. The editor of the New-York Evening Mirror,
alluding to one of these occasions, says: "When Mr. Hopper rose to offer
some remarks, we thought the burst of applause which greeted the quaint
old man, (in the very costume of Franklin) was a spontaneous homage to
goodness; and we thanked God and took courage for poor human nature."

His well-known benevolence, his peculiar tact in managing wayward
characters, his undoubted integrity, and his long experience in such
matters, naturally suggested the idea that he was more suitable than any
other person to be Agent of the Association. It was a situation
extremely well-adapted to his character, and if his limited
circumstances would have permitted, he would have been right glad to
have discharged its duties gratuitously. He named three hundred dollars
a year, as sufficient addition to his income, and the duties were
performed with as much diligence and zeal, as if the recompence had been
thousands. Although he was then seventy-four years old, his hand-writing
was firm and even, and very legible. He kept a Diary of every day's
transactions, and a Register of all the discharged convicts who applied
for assistance; with a monthly reco