One day, when the family were in the midst of washing, a man called at
Isaac T. Hopper's house to buy soap fat, and was informed they had none
to sell. A minute after he had passed out, the domestic came running in
to say that he had stolen some of the children's clothes from the line.
Friend Hopper followed him quickly, and called out, "Dost thou want to
buy some soap-fat? Come back if thou dost."
When the man had returned to the kitchen, he said, "Now give up the
clothes thou hast stolen."
The culprit was extremely confused, but denied that he had stolen
anything.
"Give them up at once, without any more words. It will be much better
for thee," said Friend Hopper, in his firm way.
Thus urged, the stranger drew from his bosom some small shirts and
flannel petticoats. "My wife is very sick," said he. "She has a babe two
weeks old, wrapped up in an old rag; and when I saw this comfortable
clothing on the line, I was tempted to take it for the poor little
creature. We have no fuel except a little tan. A herring is the last
mouthful of food we have in the house; and when I came away, it was
broiling on the hot tan."
His story excited pity; but fearing it might be made up for the
occasion, Friend Hopper took him to a magistrate and said, "Please give
me a commitment for this man. If he tells a true story, I will tear it
up. I will go and see for myself."
When he arrived at the wretched abode, he found a scene of misery that
pained him to the heart. The room was cold, and the wife was in bed,
pale and suffering. Her babe had no clothing, except a coarse rag torn
from the skirt of an old coat. Of course he destroyed the commitment
immediately. His next step was to call upon the rich Quakers of his
acquaintance, and obtain from them contributions of wood, flour, rice,
bread, and warm garments. Employment was soon after procured for the
man, and he was enabled to support his family comfortably. He never
passed Friend Hopper in the street without making a low bow, and often
took occasion to express his grateful acknowledgments.
PATRICK McKEEVER.
Patrick was a poor Irishman in Philadelphia. He and another man were
arrested on a charge of burglary, convicted and sentenced to be hung. I
am ignorant of the details of his crime, or why the sentence was not
carried into execution. There were probably some palliating
circumstances in his case; for though he was carried to the gallows,
seated on his coffin, he was spared for some reason, and his companion
was hung. He was afterward sentenced to ten years imprisonment, and this
was eventually shortened one year. During the last three years of his
term, Friend Hopper was one of the inspectors, and frequently talked
with him in a gentle, fatherly manner. The convict was a man of few
words, and hope seemed almost dead within him; but though he made no
large promises, his heart was evidently touched by the voice of
kindness. As soon as he was released, he went immediately to work at his
trade of tanning leather, and conducted himself in the most exemplary
manner. Being remarkable for capability, and the amount of work he could
accomplish, he soon had plenty of employment. He passed Friend Hopper's
house every day, as he went to his work, and often received from him
words of friendly encouragement.
Things were going on thus satisfactorily, when his friend heard that
constables were in pursuit of him, on account of a robbery committed the
night before. He went straight to the mayor, and inquired why orders
had been given to arrest Patrick McKeever.
"Because there has been a robbery committed in his neighborhood,"
replied the magistrate.
He inquired what proof there was that Patrick had been concerned in it.
"None at all," rejoined the mayor. "But he is an old convict, and that
is enough to condemn him."
"It is _not_ enough, by any means," answered Friend Hopper. "Thou hast
no right to arrest any citizen without a shadow of proof against him. In
this, case, I advise thee by all means to proceed with humane caution.
This man has severely atoned for the crime he did commit; and since he
wishes to reform, his past history ought never to be mentioned against
him. He has been perfectly honest, sober, and industrious, since he came
out of prison. I think I know his state of mind; and I am willing to
take the responsibility of saying that he is guiltless in this matter."
The mayor commended Friend Hopper's benevolence, but remained
unconvinced. To all arguments he replied, "He is an old convict, and
that is enough."
Patrick's kind friend watched for him as he passed to his daily labors,
and told him that he would probably be arrested for the robbery that had
been committed in his neighborhood. The poor fellow bowed down his
head, the light vanished from his countenance, and hope seemed to have
forsaken him utterly. "Well," said he, with a deep sigh, "I suppose I
must make up my mind to spend the remainder of my days in prison."
"Thou wert not concerned in this robbery, wert thou?" inquired Friend
Hopper, looking earnestly in his face.
"No, indeed I was not," he replied. "God be my witness, I want to lead
an honest life, and be at peace with all men. But what good will _that_
do me? Everybody will say, he has been in the State Prison, and that is
enough."
His friend did not ask him twice; for he felt assured that he had spoken
truly. He advised him to go directly to the mayor, deliver himself up,
and declare his innocence. This wholesome advice was received with deep
dejection. He had lost faith in his fellow-men; for they had been to him
as enemies. "I know what will come of it," said he. "They will put me in
prison whether there is any proof against me, or not. They won't let me
out without somebody will be security for me; and who will be security
for an old convict?"
"Keep up a good heart," replied Friend Hopper. "Go to the mayor and
speak as I have advised thee. If they talk of putting thee in prison,
send for me."
Patrick acted in obedience to this advice, and was treated just as he
had expected. Though there was not a shadow of proof against him, his
being an old convict was deemed sufficient reason for sending him to
jail.
Friend Hopper appeared in his behalf. "I am ready to affirm that I
believe this man to be innocent," said he. "It will be a very serious
injury for him to be taken from his business and detained in prison
until this can be proved. Moreover, the effect upon his mind may be
completely discouraging. I will be security for his appearance when
called for; and I know very well that he will not think of giving me the
slip."
The gratitude of the poor fellow was overwhelming. He sobbed till his
strong frame shook like a leaf in the wind. The real culprits were soon
after discovered. For thirty years after and to the day of his death,
Patrick continued to lead a virtuous and useful life; for which he
always thanked Friend Hopper, as the instrument of Divine Providence.