for
him to owe debts he could not pay. He had an exceeding love of imparting
to others, and these pecuniary impediments tied down his large soul with
a thousand lilliputian cords. He had an honest pride of independence,
which chafed under any obligation that could be avoided. His strong
attachment to the Society of Friends rendered him sensitive to their
opinion; and at that period their rules were exceedingly strict
concerning any of their members, who contracted debts they were unable
to pay. People are always ready to censure a man who is unprosperous in
worldly affairs; and if his character is such as to render him
prominent, he is all the more likely to be handled harshly. Of these
trials Friend Hopper had a large share, and they disturbed him
exceedingly; but the consciousness of upright intentions kept him from
sinking under the weight that pressed upon him.

He was always a very industrious man, and whatever he did was well done.
But the fact was, the claims upon his time and attention were too
numerous to be met by any one mortal man. He had a large family to
support, and during many years his house was a home for poor Quakers,
and others, from far and near. He had much business to transact in the
Society of Friends, of which he was then an influential and highly
respected member. He was one of the founders and secretary of a society
for the employment of the poor; overseer of the Benezet school for
colored children; teacher, without recompense, in a free school for
colored adults; inspector of the prison, without a salary; member of a
fire-company; guardian of abused apprentices; the lawyer and protector
of slaves and colored people, upon all occasions. When pestilence was
raging, he was devoted to the sick. The poor were continually calling
upon him to plead with importunate landlords and creditors. He was not
unfrequently employed to settle estates involved in difficulties, which
others were afraid to undertake. He had occasional applications to exert
influence over the insane, for which he had peculiar tact. When he heard
of a man beginning to form habits likely to prove injurious to himself
or his family, he would go to him, whether his rank were high or low,
and have private conversations with him. He would tell him some story,
or suppose some case, and finally make him feel, "Thou art the man." He
had a great gift in that way, and the exertion of it sometimes
seasonably recalled those who were sliding i