Isaac T. Hopper: A True Life

by Lydia Maria Child

"Resolved:—That it is with emotions too profound for utterance, that this Society receives the intelligence of the decease of the venerable Isaac T. Hopper, on Tuesday evening last, in the city of New-York; the friend of the friendless—boundless in his compassion—exhaustless in his benevolence—untiring in his labors—the most intrepid of philanthropists, who never feared the face of man, nor omitted to bear a faithful testimony against injustice and oppression—the early, steadfast, heroic advocate and protector of the hunted fugitive slave, to whose sleepless vigilance and timely aid multitudes have been indebted for their deliverance from the Southern House of Bondage;—in whom were equally blended the gentleness of the lamb with the strength of the lion—the wisdom of the serpent with the harmlessness of the dove; and who, when the ear heard him, then it blessed him, when the eye saw him, it gave witness to him, because he delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon him, and he caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. He put on righteousness, and it clothed him; his judgment was as a robe and a diadem. He was eyes to the blind, and feet was he to the lame. The cause which he knew not he searched out, and he broke the jaws of the wicked, and plucked the spoil out of its teeth."

He moved that a copy of this resolution be forwarded in an official form to the estimable partner of his life, and the children of his love, accompanied by an assurance of our deepest sympathy, in view of their great bereavement.

Several spoke in support of the Resolution, which was unanimously and cordially adopted.

The Committee of the Prison Association desired to have public funeral solemnities, and the family complied with their wishes. Churches of various denominations were immediately offered for the purpose, including the meeting-houses of both branches of the Society of Friends. The Tabernacle was accepted. Judge Edmonds, who had been an efficient co-laborer, and for whom Friend Hopper had a strong personal affection, offered a feeling tribute to the virtues and abilities of his departed friend. He was followed by Lucretia Mott, a widely known and highly respected minister among Friends. In her appropriate and interesting communication, she dwelt principally upon his efforts in behalf of the colored people; for whose sake she also had encountered obloquy.

The Society of Friends in Hester-street, to which he had formerly belonged, offered the use of their burying-ground. It was kindly meant; but his children deeply felt the injustice of their father's expulsion from that Society, for no other offence than following the dictates of his own conscience. As his soul had been too much alive for them, when it was in the body, their unity with the lifeless form was felt to avail but little.

The body was conveyed to Greenwood Cemetery, followed only by the family, and a very few intimate friends. Thomas McClintock, a minister in the Society of Friends, addressed some words of consolation to the bereaved family, as they stood around the open grave. Lucretia Mott affectionately commended the widow to the care of the children. In the course of her remarks, she said, "I have no unity with these costly monuments around me, by which the pride and vanity of man strive to extend themselves beyond the grave. But I like the idea of burial grounds where people of all creeds repose together. It is pleasant to leave the body of our friend here, amid the verdant beauty of nature, and the sweet singing of birds. As he was a fruitful bough, that overhung the wall, it is fitting that he should not be buried within the walls of any sectarian enclosure."

Three poor little motherless German boys stood hand in hand beside the grave. Before the earth was thrown in, the eldest stepped forward and dropped a small bouquet on the coffin of his benefactor. He had gathered a few early spring flowers from the little garden plot, which his kind old friend used to cultivate with so much care, and with childish love and reverence he dropped them in his grave.

Soon after the funeral Lucretia Mott called a meeting of the colored people in Philadelphia, and delivered an address upon the life and services of their friend and protector. There was a very large audience; and among them were several old people, who well remembered him during his residence in that city. At the Yearly Meeting also she paid a tribute to his virtues; it being the custom of Friends, on such occasions, to make tender allusion to the worthies who have passed from among them in the course of the year.

The family received many letters of sympathy and condolence, from which I will make a few brief extracts. Mrs. Marianne C.D. Silsbee, of Salem, Massachusetts, thus speaks of him, in a letter to his son John: "I have thought much of you all, since your great loss. How you must miss his grand, constant example of cheerful trust, untiring energy, and love to all! What a joy to have had such a father! To be the son of such a man is ground for honest pride. The pleasure of having known him, the honor of having been in social relations with him, will always give a charm to my life. I cherish among my most precious recollections the pleasant words he has so often spoken to me. I can see him while I write, as vividly as though he were with me now; and never can his benign and beautiful countenance lose its brightness in my memory. Dear old friend! We cannot emulate your ceaseless good works; but we can follow, and we can love and remember."

Mrs. Mary E. Stearns, of Medford, Massachusetts, wrote as follows to Rosalie Hopper: "The Telegraph has announced that the precious life you were all so anxiously watching has 'passed on,' and that mysterious change we call death has taken it from your midst forever. It is such a beautiful day! The air is so soft, the grass so green, and the birds singing so joyously! The day and the event have become so interwoven with each other, that I cannot separate them. I think of his placid face, sleeping its last still sleep; and through the open window, I see the springing grass and the bursting buds. My ears are filled with bird-music, and all other sounds are hushed in this Sabbath stillness. All I see and hear seems to be hallowed by his departed spirit. Ah, it is good to think of his death in the Spring time! It is good that his soul, so fresh, so young and hopeful, should burst into a higher and more glorious life, as if in sympathy with the ever beautiful, ever wonderful resurrection of nature. Dear, blessed old man! I shall never see his face again; but his memory will be as green as this springing grass, and we shall always think and talk of our little experience with him, as one of the golden things that can never pass away."