g him of 'grossly reproachful conduct' in the well known Darg
Case; whereas there was abundant evidence before the public that his
proceedings in that case were influenced by the purest and most
disinterested motives."

The Philadelphia Ledger, after stating that the Society of Friends in
New-York had disowned some of their prominent members for being
connected, directly or indirectly, with an Abolition Journal, added the
following remark: "This seems rather singular; for we had supposed that
Friends were favorably inclined toward the abolition of slavery. But
many of their members are highly respectable merchants, extensively
engaged in Southern trade. We are informed that they are determined to
discountenance all pragmatic interference with the legal and
constitutional rights of their brethren at the South. The Quakers have
always been distinguished for minding their own business, and permitting
others to attend to theirs. They would be the last people to meddle with
the rights of _property_."

The Boston Times quoted the paragraph from the Philadelphia Ledger, with
the additional remark, "There is no logician like money."

Whether Friends in New-York felt flattered by these eulogiums, I know
not; but they appear to have been well deserved.

In 1842 and the year following, Friend Hopper travelled more than usual.
In August '42, he visited his native place, after an absence of twenty
years. He and his wife were accompanied from Philadelphia by his son
Edward and his daughter Sarah H. Palmer. Of course, the haunts of his
boyhood had undergone many changes. Panther's Bridge had disappeared,
and Rabbit Swamp and Turkey Causeway no longer looked like the same
places. He visited his father's house, then occupied by strangers, and
found the ruins of his great-grandfather's dwelling. Down by the
pleasant old creek, shaded with large walnut trees and cedars, stood the
tombs of many of his relatives; and at Woodbury were the graves of his
father and mother, and the parents of his wife. Every spot had something
interesting to say of the past. His eyes brightened, and his tongue
became voluble with a thousand memories. Had I been present to listen to
him then, I should doubtless have been enabled to add considerably to my
stock of early anecdotes. He seemed to have brought away from this visit
a peculiarly vivid recollection of "poor crazy Joe Gibson." This
demented being was sometimes easily controlled, and willing to be
use