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 were still very familiar figures on the streets of that city. Foremost among them in public estimation at the time stood Lucretia Mott, a woman, as I was told, renowned for her high character, her culture, and the zeal and ability with which she advocated various progressive movements. To her I had the good fortune to be introduced by a German friend. I thought her the most beautiful old lady I had ever seen. Her features were of exquisite fineness. Not one of the wrinkles with which age had marked her face, would one have wished away. Her dark eyes beamed with intelligence and benignity. She received me with gentle grace, and in the course of our conversation, she expressed the hope that, as a citizen, I would never be indifferent to the slavery question as, to her great grief, many people at the time seemed to be.

Another acquaintance of interest we made was that of Mr. Jay Cooke and his family. We met them at Cape May, where at the beginning of the summer of 1853 we went with our first baby to escape from the oppressive heat of the city. Mr. Cooke was then not yet the great banker and financier he became during the Civil War, but he was easily recognized as a man of uncommon ability, energy, and public spirit. The attention of the Cookes was mainly attracted by the beauty, grace, and ingenuous conversation of my wife, in her naïve German-English, and as they were evidently good-hearted people of frank and simple manners, we soon became fast friends and remained so for many years. They were the first family of very strict and active church members we learned to know intimately. They had in their house their regular morning and evening prayers in which not only all the members of the family but also the servants took part, and in which the guests of the house were invited, and, I suppose, expected to join. But there was prevalent in the family an atmosphere of kindly