CHAPTER I

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EVERYMAN'S LIBRARY

EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS

BIOGRAPHY

JOHN WOOLMAN'S JOURNAL

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

VIDA D. SCUDDER

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A GOOD BOOK IS THE PRECIOUS LIFE-BLOOD OF A MASTER SPIRIT EMBALMED &

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THE JOURNAL _with other_ WRITINGS _of_ JOHN WOOLMAN

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by J. M. DENT & SONS LTD

AND IN NEW YORK

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INTRODUCTION

From the days of Charles Lamb to those of Dr. Eliot of Harvard, the

unique charm and worth of the _Journal of John Woolman_ have been

signalled by a thinker of distinction here and there, and the book, if

not widely known, has quietly found its way to many hearts and been

reprinted in sundry editions. The more formal works, however, in which

this gentle and audacious eighteenth-century Quaker-preacher spoke out

his whole careful mind have been for the most part neglected. These

works are sometimes prosy, always indifferent to style in their

unflinching quest for "pure wisdom," often concerned with the dead issue

of negro slavery. Yet even in this last case they have much value as

historic documents; no full knowledge of Woolman's spirit is possible

without them; and not to know that spirit in its entirety is a distinct

loss.

The present edition, while making no claim to critical completeness,

presents the main accessible body of Woolman's writings. Here is a well

of purest water, "dug deep," to use the Quaker phrase. The mere

limpidity of the water will be joy enough for some: others gazing into

it may feel that they see down to the proverbial Truth--the very origin

of things, the foundations of the moral universe.

A studious moderation of utterance is the first quality to make itself

felt in Woolman's works. To casual or jaded readers who crave the

word-embroidery, the heightened note, of the romanticist in style, the

result may seem colourless. Here is a lack of adjectives, an entire

absence of emphasis, a systematic habit of under-statement that, in the

climax of a paragraph or the crisis of an emotion, seems at times almost

ludicrous. Yet to the reader of severer taste, this very absence of

emphasis, so quaintly sober, so sensitive in its unfaltering reticence,

becomes the choicest grace of Woolman's style. As is the style, so is

the man. Woolman "studied to be quiet," and his steady self-discipline

was rewarded by a scrupulous yet instinctive control over the finest

shades of verity in speech and life. In the youthful trouble of deep

religious feeling, when he "went to meetings," as he expressively tell

us, "in an awful frame of mind," he spoke a few words one day, under "a

strong exercise of spirit." "But not keeping close to the divine

opening, I said more than was required of me, and being soon sensible of

my error, I was afflicted in mind some weeks, without any light or

comfort, even to such a degree that I could not take satisfaction in

anything." The mistake was not often repeated; for as he writes in

memorable words: "As I was thus humbled and disciplined under the Cross,

my understanding became more strengthened to distinguish the pure spirit

that inwardly moves upon the heart, and taught me to wait in silence,

sometimes for many weeks together, till I felt that rise which prepares

the creature to stand like a trumpet through which the Lord speaks to

His flock." A fine passage towards the end of the _Journal_ shows that

the danger of speaking without this "pure spirit" was ever present to

him. "Many love to hear eloquent orations, and if there is not a careful

attention to the Gift, men who have once laboured in the pure Gospel

ministry, growing weary of suffering and ashamed of appearing weak, may

kindle a fire, compass themselves about with sparks, and walk in the

light, not of Christ who is under suffering, but of that fire which they

going from the Gift have kindled; and that in hearers which has gone

from the meek suffering state into the worldly wisdom, may be warmed

with this fire and speak highly of these labours. In this journey, a

labour hath attended my mind that the ministers amongst us may be

preserved in the meek, feeling life of truth." No man could so keenly

analyse the snare of fluency and popularity, who had not spent a life on

guard. The reserve of his writings is a natural consequence. One

searches these pages in vain, often controversial though they be, for a

single point in which the note is forced or emotion escapes control.

Yet the emotional intensity concealed beneath this equable habit of

soul, is evident from the first line to the last. In the fine phrase of

the Friends after his death, Woolman "underwent many deep baptisms;" how

deep, the _Journal_ reveals. He was a man of impassioned tenderness.

Even as a child he saw "that as the mind is moved by an inward principle

to love God as an invisible, incomprehensible Being, so by the same

principle it is moved to love Him in all his manifestations in the

visible world. That as by his breath the flame of life has kindled in

all sensible creatures, to say that we love God as unseen and at the

same time exercise cruelty toward the least creature moving by his life,

or by life derived from Him, is a contradiction in itself." Woolman did

not only say these things, he felt them. He is among the great lovers of

the world. His tenderness for animals was always keen, from the days in

which, as he has told us, he suffered childish remorse from having

killed a robin, to his last voyage, when in the midst of personal

suffering, he noted pityingly the dull and pining appearance of the

"dunghill fowls" on board. "I believe," he writes, "where the love of

God is verily perfected, a care will be felt that we do not lessen that

sweetness of life in the animal creation which the great Creator intends

for them under our government."

He who so sympathised with the robin and the cock was filled with a

yearning compassion for the sorrows of humanity. Of him as of Shelley it

might well be said, "He was as a nerve o'er which do creep the else

unfelt oppressions of the earth." We read of his appetite failing

through the agitation of his mind over human pain and his relations to

it. In his last illness he broke forth in words that might have been

uttered by S. Catherine of Siena: "O Lord my God! The amazing horrors of

darkness were gathered around me and covered me all over, and I saw no

way to go forth. I felt the misery of my fellow-beings separated from

the divine harmony, and it was heavier than I could bear; I was crushed

down under it." All great lovers are great sufferers: Woolman was no

exception to the rule.

If he knew deep sorrow he knew deep joy also, as all must do who like

him "live under the Cross and simply follow the operations of Truth."

More is unuttered than uttered in the _Journal_, yet through its

silences we may read an inner experience akin to that of Bunyan or

Pascal. Like these great protagonists of the Spirit, he knew a peace

given "not as the world giveth." For peace can be where ease is not.

Decorous son of an unillumined century, John Woolman is of the company

of the Mystics. He is of those led by the Shepherd of Souls beside the

still waters. He has suggested his own secret: "Some glances of real

beauty may be seen in their faces who dwell in true meekness. There is a

harmony in the sound of that voice to which Divine love gives utterance,

and some appearance of right order in their temper and conduct whose

passions are regulated. Yet all these do not fully show forth that

inward life to those who have not felt it; but this white stone and new

name are known rightly only to such as have them." "Pure" is the central

word of the _Journal_, and the beauty of pure contemplative quietude is

the final impression conveyed by this record so full of anguish over the

sorrows of humanity and of unflinching witness against wickedness, borne

at the expense of the crucifixion of the natural man.

* * * * *

A chief value of Woolman's works consists in his serene application of

his mystical intuitions to the affairs of this world. He who "dwelt deep

in an inward stillness" studied his age with a penetrating sagacity that

allowed no evasions. The man so carefully on his guard against

extravagance was a reformer who pushed his demands, as some would think,

almost beyond the border of sanity. No temper was ever more opposed to

fanaticism: yet many readers may question whether he escaped the doom of

the fanatic. And the most pertinent reason for a re-issue of his works

at this juncture is, that in our own day so many hearts are troubled

like his own. A generation seeking guidance on the path of social duty

will find here a precursor of Ruskin and Tolstoi, a man whose thought,

despite the quaintness of his diction, has a quite extraordinary

modernness, and whose searchings of conscience are none of them

familiar.

The main contemporary issue that agitated Woolman was of course the

slave-trade, and he was long regarded all but exclusively as a herald of

the anti-slavery movement. But the Fabian Society did well to suggest,

in reprinting one of his tracts, the broader scope of his thinking. It

will be evident from this edition that his horror of chattel slavery was

one incident only in that general attitude toward civilisation which

drew from him the bitter cry: "Under a sense of deep revolt and an

overflowing stream of unrighteousness, my life has often been a life of

mourning." The central evil which he opposed was, in brief, the

exploitation of labour: the ideal which he sought was a society in which

no man should need to profit by the degradation of his fellow-men. For

economic analysis of the modern type one naturally looks in vain; moral

analysis of social relations has, however, rarely been carried farther.

These little essays "On Labour," "On the Right Use of the Lord's Outward

Gifts," "On Loving our Neighbour," these "Considerations on the True

Harmony of Mankind," this "Word of Remembrance and Caution to the Rich,"

reveal through their quaint formalities of phrase a searching spirit not

to be outdone to-day.

Woolman felt "a concern in the spring of pure love, that all who have

plenty of outward substance may example others in the right use of

things, may carefully look into the condition of poor people, and beware

of exacting of them in regard to their wages." He was solicitous, as

many have been since his day, over the perplexities of those who seek to

combine a due care for their own families with consideration for the

wage-earner, "in a fruitful land where the wages bear so small a

proportion to the necessaries of life." "There are few if any," he says

truly, "could behold their fellow-creatures lie long in distress and

forbear to help them when they could do it without any inconvenience;

but customs, requiring much labour to support them, do often lie heavy

upon the poor, while they who live in these customs are so entangled in

a multitude of unnecessary concerns that they think but little of the

hardships the poor people go through." To lessen these "concerns," thus

to emancipate the labourer from a part of the crushing burden of

production, became his central thought. "In beholding that unnecessary

toil which many go through in supporting outward greatness, and

procuring delicacies; in beholding how the true calmness of life is

changed into hurry, and that many, by eagerly pursuing outward treasure,

are in danger of withering as to the inward state of the mind; in

meditating on the works of this spirit, and the desolations it makes

among the professors of Christianity, I may thankfully acknowledge that

I often feel pure love beget longings in my mind for the exaltation of

the peaceable Kingdom of Christ, and an engagement to labour according

to the Gift bestowed upon me for promoting an humble, plain, temperate

way of living."

The Simple Life is then Woolman's plea, and the necessity for social

sacrifice the burden of his teaching. This plea he presents with no

vagueness or Wagnerian sentimentality, but with an alarming precision of

outline.

No man ever described better the insensible growth of worldly convention

into that custom which "lies upon us with a weight heavy as frost and

deep almost as life." Noting the gradual lapse of the Friends from their

earlier standards of unworldliness, he says: "These things, though done

in calmness without any show of disorder, do yet deprave the mind in

like manner and with as great certainty as prevailing cold congeals

water." And again, "Though the change from day to night is by a motion

so gradual as scarcely to be perceived, yet when night is come we behold

it very different from the day; and thus as people become wise in their

own eyes and prudent in their own sight, customs rise up from the spirit

of this world and spread, by little and little, till a departure from

the simplicity that is in Christ becomes as distinguishable as light

from darkness to such who are crucified to the world." So the

generations as they pass slip further and further from "pure wisdom,"

for "the customs of their parents, and their neighbours, working upon

their minds, and they from thence conceiving ideas of things and modes

of conduct, the entrance into their hearts becomes in a great measure

shut up against the gentle movings of Uncreated Purity." Woolman is too

wise to feel resentment against those so hardened; rather he says,

"Compassion hath filled my heart toward my fellow-creatures involved in

customs, grown up in the wisdom of this world, which is foolishness with

God."

To his own spirit, we may well apply the description in the little essay

on "Merchandising," of the growing sensitiveness among the faithful

friends of Christ, who "inwardly breathe that His Kingdom may come on

earth" and "learn to be very attentive to the means He may appoint for

promoting pure righteousness." His ideal is "that state in which Christ

is the Light of our life," so that "our labours stand in the true

harmony of society." "In this state," he writes, "a care is felt for a

reformation in general, that our own posterity, with the rest of mankind

in succeeding ages, may not be entangled by oppressive customs,

transmitted to them through our hands." When we consider the deepening

desire in our own day to lessen for the next generation that intolerable

burden of social compunction which rests upon ourselves, may we perhaps

dare to hope that this blessed "state," in which John Woolman himself

constantly abode, is becoming common?

The definite issues suggested in these pages are often surprisingly

modern. Now the fine old Quaker is perturbed over the question of

tainted money: "Have the gifts and possessions received by me from

others been conveyed in a way free from all unrighteousness so far as I

have seen?" Now he notes the evils of over-work: "I have observed that

too much labour not only makes the understanding dull, but so intrudes

upon the harmony of the body that, after ceasing from our toil, we have

another to pass through before we can enjoy the sweetness of rest," and

proceeds to plead with energy for mercy and moderation in the standard

of toil exacted from the poor. "The condition of many who dwell in

cities," had "affected him with brotherly sympathy." Again we find him

touching on the problem of dangerous trades, or analysing with the

puzzle of the pioneer the ancient fallacy that the production of

luxuries relieves economic distress--a fallacy to which he gives in

quaint phrase a sound refutal. In the fifth chapter of the "Word of

Remembrance," the interested reader will find a remarkable and very

beautiful prophecy of the central principle of the settlement movement.

And so we might go on.

In the twelfth century Woolman's solution would probably have been found

in withdrawal from the evil world to the purity of desert or convent.

Not so in the eighteenth. He remained among his brethren, bearing on his

heart the burden of the common guilt: he was one of the first people to

perceive that the moral sense must control not only our obvious but also

our hidden relations with our fellows. And his experience may be said to

mark the exact point where the individualism of the Puritan age broke

down, unable to stand the strain of the growing sense of social

solidarity. The intense but often naively self-centred conception of the

religious life common to a Bunyan and an Edwardes had proved inadequate,

and a new demand for an extension of Christianity to the remotest

reaches of practical life, till human society be transformed in its

depth and its breadth by a supernatural power, was consciously born.

Yet if Woolman's problem be social, his solution is individualistic. It

is found in a resolute endeavour to clear his own life of any dependence

on evil. Among the many experiments on the same lines, none more

thorough-going is recorded; he pushed consistency to a farther point

than Tolstoi or Thoreau. It is the story of this experiment that he

tells us in the _Journal_, with a rare sincerity. See him as a lad,

starting out peaceably at his trade of tailor, easily reaching

commercial success--for Woolman possessed practical ability,--but

"perceiving merchandise to be attended with much cumber," and deciding

accordingly not to develop his business. Watch from this time the

interaction of two co-operating forces, a craving for personal purity,

and a horror of profiting by human pain,--and note that while the first

impulse never waned, the second became more and more constraining. The

record of his various "concerns" is delightfully human and appealing. He

hated to be morally fussy, and the necessity of violating good breeding

at the call of conscience caused him acute distress, for he had an

ingrained instinct of good manners. Yet though "the exercise was heavy,"

he bravely took his elders to task on occasion: refused to accept free

hospitality from slave-holders, forcing money on them for his

entertainment; and, what is still harder, laboured with his friends.

"Thou who travels in the work of the ministry, and art made very welcome

by thy friends, it is good for thee to dwell deep that thou mayest feel

and understand the spirits of people.... I have seen that in the midst

of kindness and smooth conduct, to speak close and home to them who

entertain us on points that relate to their outward interest, is hard

labour, and sometimes when I have felt Truth lead toward it I have found

myself disqualified by a superficial friendship.... To see the failings

of our friends and think hard of them without opening that which we

ought to open, and still carry a face of friendship, this tends to

undermine the foundation of true unity." A man, sensitive, humble, and

well-bred as Woolman evidently was, who can write thus, is pretty sure

to know "deep exercises that are mortifying to the creaturely will."

Some of his concerns, as those relating to the payment of taxes and the

entertainment of soldiers, were common to the Friends; others are

apparently inventions of his own. As time went on they increased and

multiplied, all practically springing from the common root, the desire

to avoid the oppression of the poor. Greed and the wish for ease came to

seem a root of all evil. Travelling among the Indians, he felt the

intimate relation of their misfortunes to the hunger of the English race

for luxury and land. The use of dyes harmful to the worker forced him to

wear undyed garments, even though to his meek distress a passing fashion

of white hats made him run the danger of being confounded with the

children of this world. A concern came upon him to go on foot in his

preaching journeys: at first apparently that he might, like his Master,

appear in the form of a servant; later, that he might have no complicity

in the miseries suffered by the little post-boys employed in the

chaises. Nothing is clearer to the reader of the _Journal_ than the

rapid increase of this holy or foolish sensitiveness. Seeking not to

trade with oppressors, he refuses to gratify his palate with sugars

prepared by the slave labour: under inward pressure to visit the West

Indies, he has anxious scruples about taking passage on a ship owned by

the West India Company, but decides that he may do so if he pays a sum

sufficiently larger than that demanded to compensate the labour involved

on another basis than that of slavery. At last--and here the crisis of

his experience draws near--he feels himself inwardly bound to go to

England; and decides that it is his duty to travel in the steerage,

because forsooth the adornments of the cabin have cost vain and

degrading labour. The horrors of a steerage passage in those days are

well known to us from other sources; and among our visions of the

martyrs of Truth we may well preserve the picture of John Woolman, his

patient Quaker face upturned at midnight through the hatch, panting for

a breath of air. Through the studied quiet of the narrative, the

shrinking of the flesh can plainly be felt. The whole story at this

point palpitates with a solemn pain and an exceeding peace. As usual,

the sufferings of others form the larger part of his pain: he is wracked

with sympathy for the sailors, and moved to a grieved indignant study of

their temptations and afflictions which is good reading still to-day.

Arrived in England, his experience deepens. As usual, he writes without

emphasis: but his distress and tenderness are in every line. In a

passage that reads as if penned by Engels or Rowntree, he makes careful

pitying note of the scale of wages and cost of living, and cries out

sharply, "Oh, may the wealthy consider the poor! May those who have

plenty lay these things to heart!" We perceive that he is realising with

increasing perplexity the extraordinary intricacy with which "the spirit

of oppression" is entwined with the most innocent and necessary

pursuits. "Silence as to every motion proceeding from the love of money

and an humble waiting upon God to know his will concerning us appear

necessary: 'He alone is able' so to direct us in our outward employments

that pure universal love may shine forth in our proceedings." In

"bowedness of spirit" he proceeds northward, and it is evident that the

body is growing weaker as he makes his silent laborious way on foot,

bearing from town to town the message of his Lord. He is offered to

drink when thirsty, in silver vessels, and declines, "telling his case

with weeping." Disgusted, "being but weakly," with "the scent arising

from that filth which more or less infects the air of all closely

settled towns," he feels distress both in body and mind with that which

is impure, and a longing "that people might come in to cleanness of

spirit, cleanness of person, and cleanness about their houses and

garments:" noting at the same time, with his accustomed sagacity, that

"some who are great carry delicacy to a great height themselves, and yet

real cleanliness is not generally promoted." So continues his travail of

soul, recorded in these pathetic and illumined pages, and before long

the fatal disorder, small-pox, seizes upon him. He dies among strangers

after lying patiently through his illness in the spirit of prayer, still

saying characteristically to the young apothecary Friend with whom he

had "found a freedom to confer," "that if anything should be proposed as

to medicine that did not come through defiled channels or oppressive

hands, he should be willing to consider and take it so far as he found

freedom." Almost his last words, when already he could hardly be

understood, are charged with his steady social compunction.

Dear John Woolman! Pure and high spirit, incapable of evasion,

noteworthy no less for restraint and gentleness than for the resolute

determination to translate the undimmed vision of the Perfect Right into

terms of our daily existence! Whither would his "concerns" have carried

him, had not the Angel of Small-Pox ended his wistful and unrelenting

quest? He died in 1772, having lived his life before the industrial

revolution, in days which we are wont to envy as simpler and less beset

by social problems than our own. Certainly they were days in which the

network of human relations was far less intricate than now. Yet the

process in which he was engaged reached out to limits beyond our power

to scan, and his experience is in one point of view an heroic _reductio

ad absurdum_. No more instructive attempt was ever made to attain

personal purity while neither withdrawing from the world nor

transforming it. To-day the number is on the increase of persons who

suffer under the sense of social guilt. All who know such suffering and

are inclined to think the conversion of individuals adequate as an

ultimate remedy, will do well to ponder these pages. For the conclusion

is forced on us that Woolman was in an _impasse_: and while we love and

reverence the heavenly sturdiness of soul possessed by this

eighteenth-century saint, we must recognise with amusement touched by

tenderness the hopelessness of his efforts to attain personal purity,

the ridiculous extremes of isolation into which such a conscientious

effort, if logically carried out, would lead us. The definite inference

from Woolman's life and thought will be for most modern people the

conviction of the hopelessness of the attempt to achieve, by individual

means and private effort, a satisfying social righteousness in an

unchanged world.

After all, Woolman's trouble and sorrow and tumult of spirit, so

suggestive, so helpful to modern souls, were transitory. At the heart of

his "endless agitation" subsisted a "central peace." His was the grace

to know that "deep humility is a strong bulwark," and to "look less at

the effects of the labour than at the pure motion and reality of the

concern." The gentleness with which he delivered his fiery message was

more than a manner due to Quaker training, or even than a result of

resolute self-discipline: it was the index of an inward stillness in

which his soul dwelt undisturbed. Let us hope that the days may come

when the "concern" about profiting by the painful or degrading labour of

others will have an interest as exclusively historic as the "concern"

about holding slaves has already attained. Tremulously it may be, yet

soberly and joyously, many clear-minded and practical people are

beginning to hope for such a day. When it comes, the immediate message

of Woolman will be less cogent, but he will still continue to be read by

those who care for the revelations of a beautiful soul. These pages

offer more than light on the path of social duty; they offer fellowship

with a spirit that "dwelt deep," and attained an abiding loveliness

because responsive through all turmoil of spirit and all outward

suffering, to the "gentle movings of Uncreated Purity." "That purity of

life," wrote he, "which proceeds from faithfulness in following the

Spirit of Truth, this habitation has often been opened before me as a

place of retirement for the children of the light, where we may stand

separated from that which disordereth and confuseth the affairs of

society." Such a "place of retirement for the Children of the Light,"

this book affords.

VIDA D. SCUDDER.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Some Considerations on the Keeping of Negroes, recommended to the

Professors of Christianity of every Denomination, Part I., 1754; Part

II., 1762; many later issues of both parts; Considerations on Pure

Wisdom and Human Policy, on Labour, Schools, and the Right Use of the

Lord's Outward Gifts, 1768, and numerous later reprints; Considerations

on the True Harmony of Mankind, and how it is to be Maintained, 1770,

and later reprints; an Epistle to the Quarterly and Monthly Meetings of

Friends, 1772; Remarks on Sundry Subjects, 1773, and later reprints;

Serious Considerations on Various Subjects of Importance (containing the

four above works, and some expressions of John Woolman in his last

illness), 1773; A First Book for Children, 1774 (?); A Journal of the

Life, Gospel, Labours, and Christian Experiences of John Woolman, 1774,

and many later editions; with Introduction by John Greenleaf Whittier,

1871; with Introduction by A. Smellie, and Appreciation by J. G.

Whittier (Books of the Heart), 1898; new century edition, with

bibliography, etc., 1900; with foreword by Rev. R. J. Campbell, 1903; A

Word of Remembrance and Caution to the Rich, 1793; later editions,

published by Fabian Society, 1898, 1908.

LETTERS: Edited by J. Kendall (Letters on Religious Subjects, vol. ii.),

1820; by J. and I. Comly (_Friends' Miscellany_, vol. i.), 1834; in

_Journal_, and in _Friends' Review_, vols. v.-xxviii.

WORKS: 1774; 5th edition, 1818.

LIFE: Saint John Woolman (_Eclectic Review_), 1861; David Duncan,

paper read at Manchester Friends' Institute, 1871; Dora Greenwell,

1871; W. Garrett Horder, A Quaker Saint (_The Young Man_), 1874;

reprinted in Quaker Worthies, 1896; T. Green, 1885, with Introduction by

H. C. G. Moule, 1897; Sketch of the Life of John Woolman (Booklet

Series, No. 6), 1896; in Present Day Papers, vol. iii., 1900; a poem by

Bernard Barton, "A Tribute to the Memory of John Woolman," appeared in

vol. iii. of _The Friend_, and references to Woolman are found in Lamb,

and in H. Crabb Robinson's Diary.

CONTENTS

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER 3

THE TESTIMONY OF FRIENDS IN YORKSHIRE 5

A TESTIMONY OF THE MONTHLY-MEETING OF FRIENDS 9

A JOURNAL OF THE LIFE AND TRAVELS OF JOHN WOOLMAN 17

THE LAST EPISTLE AND OTHER WRITINGS 159

CONSIDERATIONS ON THE TRUE HARMONY OF MANKIND 177

AN EPISTLE TO THE QUARTERLY AND MONTHLY-MEETINGS OF

FRIENDS 203

REMARKS ON SUNDRY SUBJECTS 219

SOME EXPRESSIONS OF JOHN WOOLMAN IN HIS LAST ILLNESS 245

THE JOURNAL

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER

The manuscript JOURNAL of our late Friend JOHN WOOLMAN, was ended in

_England_; where he also finished all his Labours. It appears, by a

Letter which he sent, in his last Illness, to a Friend in _London_, that

he did not intend the whole should be printed, and that he desired the

said Friend to revise what he had written in this Nation, and leave out

such Parts as he should think proper. It was, notwithstanding, sent

entire, without any Alteration, to _America_; where it was soon after

printed, together with several Tracts which had been published in his

Life-time. But, as some Passages in the Journal contain Observations

which appear to have been intended as private Memorandums only, and

others relate to Circumstances which happened in his native Country, not

expedient to be preserved on Record in this Nation, it is apprehended

that the following ABRIDGEMENT of it will be acceptable to Friends, and

may be of general Service; and, as many weighty Arguments and pertinent

Advices, relative to Slavery and the Oppression of the Negroes in the

Plantations, are contained in the Journal, it was therefore apprehended

that two small Tracts on that Subject might be omitted in this

Abridgement.

THE TESTIMONY OF FRIENDS IN YORKSHIRE

_At their Quarterly-meeting held at York, the 24th and 25th of the third

Month 1773, concerning_

JOHN WOOLMAN

_Of_ Mount-Holly, _in the Province of New-Jersey, in_ America; _who

departed this Life at the House of our Friend_, THOMAS PRIESTMAN, _in

the Suburbs of this City, the 7th of the tenth month 1772, and was

interred in the Burying-ground of Friends, the 9th of the same, aged

about fifty-two Years_

This our valuable Friend, having been under a religious Engagement for

some Time to visit Friends in this Nation, and more especially us in the

northern Parts, undertook the same in full Concurrence and near Sympathy

with his Friends and Brethren at home, as appeared by Certificates from

the monthly and quarterly Meetings to which he belonged, and from the

Spring-meeting of Ministers and Elders, held at _Philadelphia_ for

_Pennsylvania_ and _New-Jersey_.

He arrived in the City of _London_ the beginning of the last

Yearly-meeting, and, after attending that Meeting, travelled northward,

visiting the Quarterly-meetings of _Hertfordshire_, _Buckinghamshire_,

_Northamptonshire_, _Oxfordshire_, and _Worcestershire_, and divers

particular Meetings in his Way.

He visited many Meetings on the West Side of this County; also some in

_Lancashire_ and _Westmorland_; from whence he came to our

Quarterly-meeting in the last ninth Month; and though much out of

Health, yet was enabled to attend all the Sittings of that Meeting

except the last.

His Disorder, then, which proved the Small-pox, increased speedily upon

him, and was very afflicting; under which he was supported in much

Meekness, Patience, and Christian Fortitude. To those who attended him

in his Illness his Mind appeared to be centered in divine Love; under

the precious Influence whereof, we believe, he finished his Course, and

entered into the Mansions of everlasting Rest.

In the early Part of his Illness he requested a Friend to write, and he

broke forth thus:

"O Lord, my God! the amazing Horrors of Darkness were gathered around me

and covered me all over, and I saw no Way to go forth: I felt the Misery

of my Fellow-creatures separated from the divine Harmony, and it was

heavier than I could bear, and I was crushed down under it: I lifted up

my Hand, and stretched out my Arm, but there was none to help me: I

looked round about, and was amazed: In the Depths of Misery, O Lord! I

remembered that thou art omnipotent; that I had called thee Father; and

I felt that I loved thee, and I was made quiet in thy Will, and I waited

for Deliverance from thee; thou hadst Pity upon me when no Man could

help me: I saw that Meekness under suffering was shewed to us in the

most affecting Example of thy Son, and thou wast teaching me to follow

him, and I said, Thy Will, O Father, be done."

Many more of his weighty Expressions might have been inserted here, but

it was deemed unnecessary, they being already published in Print.

He was a Man endued with a large natural Capacity; and, being obedient

to the Manifestations of divine Grace, having in Patience and Humility

endured many deep Baptisms, he became thereby sanctified and fitted for

the Lord's Work, and was truly serviceable in his Church: Dwelling in

awful Fear and Watchfulness, he was careful, in his public Appearances,

to feel the putting forth of the divine Hand, so that the Spring of the

Gospel-ministry often flowed through him with great Sweetness and

Purity, as a refreshing Stream to the weary Travellers toward the City

of God: Skilful in dividing the Word, he was furnished by Him, in whom

are hid all the Treasures of Wisdom and Knowledge, to communicate freely

to the several States of the People where his Lot was cast. His Conduct

at other Times was seasoned with the like watchful Circumspection and

Attention to the Guidance of divine Wisdom, which rendered his whole

Conversation uniformly edifying.

He was fully perswaded that as the Life of Christ comes to reign in the

Earth, all Abuse and unnecessary Oppression, both of the human and brute

Creation, will come to an End; but, under the Sense of a deep Revolt and

overflowing Stream of Unrighteousness, his Life has been often a Life of

mourning.

He was deeply concerned on account of that inhuman and iniquitous

Practice of making Slaves of the People of _Africa_, or holding them in

that State; and, on that Account, we understand he hath not only written

some Books, but travelled much on the Continent of _America_, in order

to make the Negro-masters (especially those in Profession with us)

sensible of the evil of such a Practice; and though, in his Journey to

_England_, he was far removed from the outward Sight of their

Sufferings, yet his deep Exercise of Mind remained, as appears by a

short Treatise he wrote in this Journey, and his frequent Concern to

open the miserable State of this deeply-injured People. His Testimony in

the last Meeting he attended was on this Subject; wherein he remarked,

that as we, as a Society, when under outward Sufferings, had often found

it our Concern to lay them before those in Authority, and thereby, in

the Lord's Time, had obtained Relief, so he recommended this oppressed

Part of the Creation to our Notice, that we may, as way may open,

represent their Sufferings, in an Individual, if not a Society Capacity,

to those in Authority.

Deeply sensible that the Desire to gratify People's Inclinations in

Luxury and Superfluities is the principal Ground of Oppression, and the

Occasion of many unnecessary Wants, he believed it to be his Duty to be

a Pattern of great Self-denial with Respect to the Things of this Life,

and earnestly to labour with Friends in the Meekness of Wisdom, to

impress on their Minds the great Importance of our Testimony in these

Things, recommending to the Guidance of the blessed Truth in this and

all other Concerns, and cautioning such as are experienced therein

against contenting themselves with acting up to the Standard of others,

but to be careful to make the Standard of Truth, manifested to them, the

Measure of their Obedience; for, said he, "that Purity of Life which

proceeds from Faithfulness in following the Spirit of Truth, that State

where our Minds are devoted to serve God, and all our Wants are bounded

by his Wisdom,--this Habitation has often been opened before me, as a

Place of retirement for the Children of the Light, where they may stand

separated from that which disordereth and confuseth the Affairs of

Society, and where we may have a Testimony of our Innocence in the

Hearts of those who behold us."

We conclude with fervent Desires that we, as a People, may thus, by our

Example, promote the Lord's Work in the Earth; and, our Hearts being

prepared, may unite in Prayer to the great Lord of the Harvest, that as,

in his infinite Wisdom, he hath greatly stripped the Church, by removing

of late divers faithful Ministers and Elders, he may be pleased to send

forth many more faithful Labourers into his Harvest.

_Signed in, by Order, and on Behalf of, said Meeting_:

THOMAS BENNETT,

JOHN STORR,

JOSEPH EGLIN,

THOMAS PERKINSON,

JOSEPH WRIGHT,

SAMUEL BRISCOE,

JOHN TURNER,

JOSHUA ROBINSON,

THOMAS PRIESTMAN, and

divers other Friends.

A TESTIMONY OF THE MONTHLY-MEETING OF FRIENDS

_Held in_ Burlington, _the first Day of the eighth Month, in the Year of

our Lord 1774, concerning our esteemed Friend,_

JOHN WOOLMAN, DECEASED

He was born in _Northampton_, in the County of _Burlington_, and

Province of _West-New-Jersey_, in the eighth Month, 1720, of religious

Parents, who instructed him very early in the Principles of the

_Christian_ Religion, as professed by the People called _Quakers_, which

he esteemed a Blessing to him, even in his young Years, tending to

preserve him from the Infection of wicked Children; but, through the

Workings of the Enemy, and Levity incident to Youth, he frequently

deviated from those parental Precepts, by which he laid a renewed

Foundation for Repentance, that was finally succeeded by a godly Sorrow

not to be repented of, and so became acquainted with that sanctifying

Power which qualifies for true Gospel Ministry, into which he was called

about the twenty-second year of his Age; and, by a faithful Use of the

Talents committed to him, he experienced an Increase, until he arrived

at the State of a Father, capable of dividing the Word aright to the

different States he ministered unto; dispensing Milk to Babes, and Meat

to those of riper Years. Thus he found the Efficacy of that Power to

arise, which, in his own Expressions, "prepares the Creature to stand

like a Trumpet through which the Lord speaks to his People."--He was a

loving Husband, a tender Father, and very humane to every Part of the

Creation under his Care.

His Concern for the Poor and those in Affliction was evident by his

Visits to them; whom he frequently relieved by his Assistance and

Charity. He was for many Years deeply exercised on Account of the poor

enslaved _Africans_, whose Cause, as he sometimes mentioned, lay almost

continually upon him, and to obtain Liberty to those Captives, he

laboured both in public and private; and was favoured to see his

Endeavours crowned with considerable Success. He was particularly

desirous that Friends should not be instrumental to lay Burthens on this

oppressed People, but remember the Days of suffering from which they had

been providentially delivered; that, if Times of Trouble should return,

no Injustice dealt to those in Slavery might rise in Judgment against

us, but, being clear, we might on such Occasions address the Almighty

with a degree of Confidence, for his Interposition and Relief; being

particularly careful, as to himself, not to countenance Slavery even by

the Use of those Conveniences of Life which were furnished by their

Labour.

He was desirous to have his own, and the Minds of others, redeemed from

the Pleasures and immoderate Profits of this World, and to fix them on

those Joys which fade not away; his principal Care being after a Life of

Purity, endeavouring to avoid not only the grosser Pollutions, but those

also which, appearing in a more refined Dress, are not sufficiently

guarded against by some well-disposed People. In the latter Part of his

Life he was remarkable for the Plainness and Simplicity of his Dress,

and, as much as possible, avoided the Use of Plate, costly Furniture,

and feasting; thereby endeavouring to become an Example of Temperance

and Self-denial, which he believed himself called unto, and was favoured

with Peace therein, although it carried the Appearance of great

Austerity in the View of some. He was very moderate in his Charges in

the Way of Business, and in his Desires after Gain; and, though a Man of

Industry, avoided, and strove much to lead others out of extreme Labour

and Anxiousness after perishable Things; being desirous that the

Strength of our Bodies might not be spent in procuring Things

unprofitable, and that we might use Moderation and Kindness to the brute

Animals under our Care, to prize the Use of them as a great Favour, and

by no Means abuse them; that the Gifts of Providence should be

thankfully received and applied to the Uses they were designed for.

He several Times opened a School at _Mount-Holly_, for the Instruction

of poor Friends Children and others, being concerned for their Help and

Improvement therein: His Love and Care for the rising Youth among us

were truly great, recommending to Parents and those who have the Charge

of them, to chuse conscientious and pious Tutors, saying, "It is a

lovely Sight to behold innocent Children," and that "to labour for their

Help against that which would mar the Beauty of their Minds, is a Debt

we owe them."

His Ministry was sound, very deep and penetrating, sometimes pointing

out the dangerous Situation which Indulgence and Custom lead into;

frequently exhorting others, especially the Youth, not to be discouraged

at the Difficulties which occur, but press after Purity. He often

expressed an earnest Engagement that _pure Wisdom_ should be attended

to, which would lead into Lowliness of Mind and Resignation to the

divine Will, in which State small Possessions here would be sufficient.

In transacting the Affairs of Discipline, his Judgment was sound and

clear, and he was very useful in treating with those who had done amiss;

he visited such in a private Way in that Plainness which Truth dictates,

shewing great Tenderness and _Christian_ Forbearance. He was a constant

Attender of our Yearly-meeting, in which he was a good Example, and

particularly useful; assisting in the Business thereof with great Weight

and Attention. He several Times visited most of the Meetings of Friends

in this and the neighbouring Provinces, with the Concurrence of the

Monthly-meeting to which he belonged, and, we have Reason to believe,

had good Service therein, generally or always expressing, at his

Return, how it had fared with him, and the Evidence of Peace in his Mind

for thus performing his Duty. He was often concerned with other Friends

in the important Service of visiting Families, which he was enabled to

go through to Satisfaction.

In the Minutes of the Meeting of Ministers and Elders for this Quarter,

at the Foot of a List of the Members of that Meeting, made about five

Years before his Death, we find in his Hand-writing the following

Observations and Reflections. "As looking over the Minutes, made by

Persons who have put off this Body, hath sometimes revived in me a

Thought how Ages pass away; so this List may probably revive a like

Thought in some, when I and the rest of the Persons above-named are

centered in another State of Being.--The Lord, who was the Guide of my

Youth, hath in tender Mercies helped me hitherto; he hath healed me of

Wounds, he hath helped me out of grievous Entanglements; he remains to

be the Strength of my Life; to whom I desire to devote myself in Time

and in Eternity."--_Signed_, John Woolman.

In the twelfth Month, 1771, he acquainted this Meeting that he found his

Mind drawn towards a religious Visit to Friends in some Parts of

_England_, particularly in _Yorkshire_. In the first Month, 1772, he

obtained our Certificate, which was approved and endorsed by our

Quarterly-meeting, and by the Half-year's-meeting of Ministers and

Elders at _Philadelphia_. He embarked on his Voyage in the fifth, and

arrived in _London_ in the sixth, Month following, at the Time of their

annual Meeting in that City. During his short Visit to Friends in that

Kingdom, we are informed that his Services were acceptable and edifying.

In his last Illness he uttered many lively and comfortable Expressions,

being "perfectly resigned, having no Will either to live or die," as

appears by the Testimony of Friends at _York_ in _Great-Britain_, in the

Suburbs whereof, at the House of our Friend, _Thomas Priestman_, he died

of the Small-pox, on the seventh Day of the tenth Month, 1772, and was

buried in Friends Burying-ground in that City, on the ninth of the same,

after a large and solid Meeting held on the Occasion at their great

Meeting-house, aged near fifty-two Years; a Minister upwards of

thirty Years, during which Time he belonged to _Mount-Holly_

Particular-meeting, which he diligently attended when at Home and in

Health of Body, and his Labours of Love, and pious Care for the

Prosperity of Friends in the blessed Truth, we hope may not be

forgotten, but that his good Works may be remembered to Edification.

_Signed in, and by Order of, the said Meeting, by_

SAMUEL ALLINSON, _Clerk_.

Read and approved at our Quarterly-meeting, held at _Burlington_ the

29th of the eighth Month, 1774.

_Signed, by Order of said Meeting_,

DANIEL SMITH, _Clerk_.

A JOURNAL OF THE LIFE, GOSPEL-LABOURS, AND CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCES, OF

THAT FAITHFUL MINISTER OF JESUS CHRIST,

JOHN WOOLMAN;

Late of MOUNT-HOLLY, in the Province of NEW-JERSEY.

ISAIAH xxxii. 17.

"The Work of Righteousness shall be Peace; and the Effect of

Righteousness, Quietness and Assurance for ever."

LONDON:

Printed and sold by JAMES PHILLIPS, in

George-Yard, Lombard-Street.

M.DCC.LXXV.

A JOURNAL OF THE LIFE AND TRAVELS OF JOHN WOOLMAN, IN THE SERVICE OF THE

GOSPEL

CHAPTER I

_His Birth and Parentage, with some Account of the Operations of

divine Grace on his Mind in his Youth_--_His first Appearance in the

Ministry_--_And his Considerations, while young, on the keeping of

Slaves_

I have often felt a Motion of Love to leave some Hints in Writing of my

Experience of the Goodness of God; and now, in the thirty-sixth Year of

my Age, I begin this Work.

I was born in _Northampton_, in _Burlington_ County, _West-Jersey_, in

the Year 1720; and before I was seven Years old I began to be acquainted

with the Operations of divine Love. Through the Care of my Parents, I

was taught to read nearly as soon as I was capable of it; and, as I went

from School one seventh Day, I remember, while my Companions went to

play by the Way, I went forward out of Sight, and, sitting down, I read

the 22d Chapter of the _Revelations_: "He shewed me a pure River of

Water of Life, clear as Chrystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God

and of the Lamb, _etc._" and, in reading it, my Mind was drawn to seek

after that pure Habitation, which, I then believed, God had prepared for

his Servants. The Place where I sat, and the Sweetness that attended my

Mind, remain fresh in my Memory.

This, and the like gracious Visitations, had that Effect upon me, that

when Boys used ill Language it troubled me; and, through the continued

Mercies of God, I was preserved from it.

The pious Instructions of my Parents were often fresh in my Mind when I

happened to be among wicked Children, and were of Use to me. My Parents,

having a large Family of Children, used frequently, on first Days after

Meeting, to put us to read in the holy Scriptures, or some religious

Books, one after another, the rest sitting by without much Conversation;

which, I have since often thought, was a good Practice. From what I had

read and heard, I believed there had been, in past Ages, People who

walked in Uprightness before God, in a Degree exceeding any that I knew,

or heard of, now living: And the Apprehension of there being less

Steadiness and Firmness, amongst People in this Age than in past Ages,

often troubled me while I was a Child.

A Thing remarkable in my Childhood was, that once, going to a

Neighbour's House, I saw, on the Way, a _Robin_ sitting on her Nest, and

as I came near she went off, but, having young ones, flew about, and

with many Cries expressed her Concern for them; I stood and threw Stones

at her, till, one striking her, she fell down dead: At first I was

pleased with the Exploit, but after a few Minutes was seized with

Horror, as having, in a sportive Way, killed an innocent Creature while

she was careful for her Young: I beheld her lying dead, and thought

these young ones, for which she was so careful, must now perish for want

of their Dam to nourish them; and, after some painful Considerations on

the Subject, I climbed up the Tree, took all the young Birds, and killed

them; supposing that better than to leave them to pine away and die

miserably: And believed, in this Case, that Scripture-proverb was

fulfilled, "The tender Mercies of the Wicked are cruel." I then went on

my Errand, but, for some Hours, could think of little else but the

Cruelties I had committed, and was much troubled. Thus he, whose tender

Mercies are over all his Works, hath placed a Principle in the human

Mind, which incites to exercise Goodness towards every living Creature;

and this being singly attended to, People become tender hearted and

sympathising; but being frequently and totally rejected, the Mind

becomes shut up in a contrary Disposition.

About the twelfth Year of my Age, my Father being abroad, my Mother

reproved me for some Misconduct, to which I made an undutiful Reply;

and, the next first Day, as I was with my Father returning from Meeting,

he told me he understood I had behaved amiss to my Mother, and advised

me to be more careful in future. I knew myself blameable, and in Shame

and Confusion remained silent. Being thus awakened to a Sense of my

Wickedness, I felt Remorse in my Mind, and, getting home, I retired and

prayed to the Lord to forgive me; and do not remember that I ever, after

that, spoke unhandsomely to either of my Parents, however foolish in

some other Things.

Having attained the Age of sixteen Years, I began to love wanton

Company; and though I was preserved from prophane Language, or

scandalous Conduct, still I perceived a Plant in me which produced much

wild Grapes; yet my merciful Father forsook me not utterly, but, at

Times, through his Grace, I was brought seriously to consider my Ways;

and the Sight of my Backslidings affected me with Sorrow; but, for want

of rightly attending to the Reproofs of Instruction, Vanity was added to

Vanity, and Repentance to Repentance: Upon the whole, my Mind was more

and more alienated from the Truth, and I hastened toward Destruction.

While I meditate on the Gulph towards which I travelled, and reflect on

my youthful Disobedience, for these Things I weep, mine Eyes run down

with Water.

Advancing in Age, the Number of my Acquaintances increased, and thereby

my Way grew more difficult; though I had found Comfort in reading the

holy Scriptures, and thinking on heavenly Things, I was now estranged

therefrom: I knew I was going from the Flock of Christ, and had no

Resolution to return; hence serious Reflections were uneasy to me, and

youthful Vanities and Diversions my greatest Pleasure. Running in this

Road I found many like myself; and we associated in that which is the

reverse of true Friendship.

But in this swift Race it pleased God to visit me with Sickness, so that

I doubted of recovering; and then did Darkness, Horror, and Amazement,

with full Force, seize me, even when my Pain and Distress of Body was

very great. I thought it would have been better for me never to have had

a Being, than to see the Day which I now saw. I was filled with

Confusion; and in great Affliction, both of Mind and Body, I lay and

bewailed myself. I had not Confidence to lift up my Cries to God, whom I

had thus offended; but, in a deep Sense of my great Folly, I was humbled

before him; and, at length, that Word which is as a Fire and a Hammer,

broke and dissolved my rebellious Heart, and then my Cries were put up

in Contrition; and in the multitude of his Mercies I found inward

Relief, and felt a close Engagement, that, if he was pleased to restore

my Health, I might walk humbly before him.

After my Recovery, this Exercise remained with me a considerable Time;

but, by Degrees, giving Way to youthful Vanities, they gained Strength,

and, getting with wanton young People, I lost Ground. The Lord had been

very gracious, and spoke Peace to me in the Time of my Distress; and I

now most ungratefully turned again to Folly; on which Account, at Times,

I felt sharp Reproof. I was not so hardy as to commit Things scandalous;

but to exceed in Vanity, and promote Mirth, was my chief Study. Still I

retained a Love for pious People, and their Company brought an Awe upon

me. My dear Parents, several Times, admonished me in the Fear of the

Lord, and their Admonition entered into my Heart, and had a good Effect

for a Season; but, not getting deep enough to pray rightly, the Tempter,

when he came, found Entrance. I remember once, having spent a Part of

the Day in Wantonness, as I went to Bed at Night, there lay in a Window,

near my Bed, a Bible, which I opened, and first cast my Eye on this

Text, "We lie down in our Shame, and our Confusion covers us:" This I

knew to be my Case; and, meeting with so unexpected a Reproof, I was

somewhat affected with it, and went to Bed under Remorse of Conscience;

which I soon cast off again.

Thus Time passed on: My Heart was replenished with Mirth and Wantonness,

and pleasing Scenes of Vanity were presented to my Imagination, till I

attained the Age of eighteen Years; near which Time I felt the Judgments

of God, in my Soul, like a consuming Fire; and, looking over my past

Life, the Prospect was moving.--I was often sad, and longed to be

delivered from those Vanities; then again, my Heart was strongly

inclined to them, and there was in me a sore Conflict: At Times I turned

to Folly, and then again, Sorrow and Confusion took hold of me. In a

while, I resolved totally to leave off some of my Vanities; but there

was a secret Reserve, in my Heart, of the more refined Part of them, and

I was not low enough to find true Peace. Thus, for some Months, I had

great Troubles; there remaining in me an unsubjected Will, which

rendered my Labours fruitless, till at length, through the merciful

Continuance of heavenly Visitations, I was made to bow down in Spirit

before the Lord. I remember one Evening I had spent some Time in reading

a pious Author; and walking out alone, I humbly prayed to the Lord for

his Help, that I might be delivered from all those Vanities which so

ensnared me. Thus, being brought low, he helped me; and, as I learned to

bear the Cross, I felt Refreshment to come from his Presence; but, not

keeping in that Strength which gave Victory, I lost Ground again; the

Sense of which greatly affected me; and I sought Desarts and lonely

Places, and there, with Tears, did confess my Sins to God, and humbly

craved Help of him. And I may say with Reverence, he was near to me in

my Troubles, and in those Times of Humiliation opened my Ear to

Discipline. I was now led to look seriously at the Means by which I was

drawn from the pure Truth, and learned this, that, if I would live in

the Life which the faithful Servants of God lived in, I must not go

into Company as heretofore in my own Will; but all the Cravings of Sense

must be governed by a divine Principle. In Times of Sorrow and Abasement

these Instructions were sealed upon me, and I felt the Power of Christ

prevail over selfish Desires, so that I was preserved in a good degree

of Steadiness; and, being young, and believing at that Time that a

single Life was best for me, I was strengthened to keep from such

Company as had often been a Snare to me.

I kept steadily to Meetings; spent First-day Afternoons chiefly in

reading the Scriptures and other good Books; and was early convinced in

Mind, that true Religion consisted in an inward Life, wherein the Heart

doth love and reverence God the Creator, and learns to exercise true

Justice and Goodness, not only toward all Men, but also toward the brute

Creatures.--That as the Mind was moved, by an inward Principle, to love

God as an invisible incomprehensible Being, by the same Principle it was

moved to love him in all his Manifestations in the visible World.--That,

as by his Breath the Flame of Life was kindled in all animal sensible

Creatures, to say we love God, and, at the same Time exercise Cruelty

toward the least Creature, is a Contradiction in itself.

I found no Narrowness respecting Sects and Opinions; but believed, that

sincere upright-hearted People, in every Society, who truly love God,

were accepted of him.

As I lived under the Cross, and simply followed the Openings of Truth,

my Mind, from Day to Day, was more enlightened; my former Acquaintance

were left to judge of me as they would, for I found it safest for me to

live in private, and keep these Things sealed up in my own Breast. While

I silently ponder on that Change wrought in me, I find no Language equal

to it, nor any Means to convey to another a clear Idea of it. I looked

on the Works of God in this visible Creation, and an Awfulness covered

me; my Heart was tender and often contrite, and universal Love to my

Fellow-creatures increased in me: This will be understood by such as

have trodden the same Path. Some Glances of real Beauty may be seen in

their Faces, who dwell in true Meekness. There is a Harmony in the

Sound of that Voice to which divine Love gives Utterance, and some

Appearance of right Order in their Temper and Conduct, whose Passions

are regulated; yet all these do not fully shew forth that inward Life to

such as have not felt it: But this white Stone and new Name is known

rightly to such only as have it.

Though I had been thus strengthened to bear the Cross, I still found

myself in great Danger, having many Weaknesses attending me, and strong

Temptations to wrestle with; in the feeling whereof I frequently

withdrew into private Places, and often with Tears besought the Lord to

help me, whose gracious Ear was open to my Cry.

All this Time I lived with my Parents, and wrought on the Plantation;

and, having had Schooling pretty well for a Planter, I used to improve

it in Winter Evenings, and other leisure Times; and, being now in the

twenty-first Year of my Age, a Man, in much Business at shop-keeping and

baking, asked me, if I would hire with him to tend Shop and keep Books.

I acquainted my Father with the Proposal; and, after some Deliberation,

it was agreed for me to go.

At Home I had lived retired; and now, having a Prospect of being much in

the Way of Company, I felt frequent and fervent Cries in my Heart to

God, the Father of Mercies, that he would preserve me from all

Corruption; that in this more publick Employment, I might serve him, my

gracious Redeemer, in that Humility and Self-denial, with which I had

been, in a small Degree, exercised in a more private Life. The Man, who

employed me, furnished a Shop in _Mount-Holly_, about five Miles from my

Father's House, and six from his own; and there I lived alone, and

tended his Shop. Shortly after my Settlement here I was visited by

several young People, my former Acquaintance, who knew not but Vanities

would be as agreeable to me now as ever; and, at these Times, I cried to

the Lord in secret, for Wisdom and Strength; for I felt myself

encompassed with Difficulties, and had fresh Occasion to bewail the

Follies of Time past, in contracting a Familiarity with libertine

People; and, as I had now left my Father's House outwardly, I found my

heavenly Father to be merciful to me beyond what I can express.

By Day I was much amongst People, and had many Trials to go through;

but, in the Evenings, I was mostly alone, and may with Thankfulness

acknowledge, that, in those Times, the Spirit of Supplication was often

poured upon me; under which I was frequently exercised, and felt my

Strength renewed.

In a few Months after I came here, my Master bought several _Scotchmen_,

Servants, from on-board a Vessel, and brought them to _Mount-Holly_ to

sell; one of which was taken sick, and died.

In the latter Part of his Sickness, he, being delirious, used to curse

and swear most sorrowfully; and, the next Night after his Burial, I was

left to sleep alone in the same Chamber where he died; I perceived in me

a Timorousness; I knew, however, I had not injured the Man, but assisted

in taking Care of him according to my Capacity; and was not free to ask

any one, on that Occasion, to sleep with me: Nature was feeble; but

every Trial was a fresh Incitement to give myself up wholly to the

Service of God, for I found no Helper like him in Times of Trouble.

After a While, my former Acquaintance gave over expecting me as one of

their Company; and I began to be known to some whose Conversation was

helpful to me: And now, as I had experienced the Love of God, through

Jesus Christ, to redeem me from many Pollutions, and to be a Succour to

me through a Sea of Conflicts, with which no Person was fully

acquainted; and as my Heart was often enlarged in this heavenly

Principle, I felt a tender Compassion for the Youth, who remained

entangled in Snares, like those which had entangled me from one Time to

another: This Love and Tenderness increased; and my Mind was more

strongly engaged for the Good of my Fellow-creatures. I went to Meetings

in an awful Frame of Mind, and endeavoured to be inwardly acquainted

with the Language of the true Shepherd; and, one Day, being under a

strong Exercise of Spirit, I stood up, and said some Words in a Meeting;

but, not keeping close to the divine Opening, I said more than was

required of me; and being soon sensible of my Error, I was afflicted in

Mind some Weeks, without any Light or Comfort, even to that Degree that

I could not take Satisfaction in any Thing: I remembered God, and was

troubled, and, in the Depth of my Distress, he had Pity upon me, and

sent the Comforter: I then felt Forgiveness for my Offence, and my Mind

became calm and quiet, being truly thankful to my gracious Redeemer for

his Mercies; and, after this, feeling the Spring of divine Love opened,

and a Concern to speak, I said a few Words in a Meeting, in which I

found Peace; this, I believe, was about six Weeks from the first Time:

And, as I was thus humbled and disciplined under the Cross, my

Understanding became more strengthened to distinguish the pure Spirit

which inwardly moves upon the Heart, and taught me to wait in Silence

sometimes many Weeks together, until I felt that rise which prepares the

Creature.

From an inward purifying, and stedfast abiding under it, springs a

lively operative Desire for the Good of others: All the Faithful are not

called to the public Ministry; but whoever are, are called to minister

of that which they have tasted and handled spiritually. The outward

Modes of Worship are various; but, wherever any are true Ministers of

Jesus Christ, it is from the Operation of his Spirit upon their Hearts,

first purifying them, and thus giving them a just Sense of the

Conditions of others.

This Truth was clearly fixed in my Mind; and I was taught to watch the

pure Opening, and to take Heed, lest, while I was standing to speak, my

own Will should get uppermost, and cause me to utter Words from worldly

Wisdom, and depart from the Channel of the true Gospel-Ministry.

In the Management of my outward Affairs, I may say, with Thankfulness, I

found Truth to be my Support; and I was respected in my Master's Family,

who came to live in _Mount-Holly_ within two Years after my going

there.

About the twenty-third Year of my Age, I had many fresh and heavenly

Openings, in respect to the Care and Providence of the Almighty over his

Creatures in general, and over Man as the most noble amongst those which

are visible. And being clearly convinced in my Judgment, that to place

my whole Trust in God was best for me, I felt renewed Engagements, that

in all Things I might act on an inward Principle of Virtue, and pursue

worldly Business no farther, than as Truth opened my Way therein.

About the Time called _Christmas_, I observed many People from the

Country, and Dwellers in Town, who, resorting to Public-Houses, spent

their Time in drinking and vain Sports, tending to corrupt one another;

on which Account I was much troubled. At one House, in particular, there

was much Disorder; and I believed it was a Duty incumbent on me to go

and speak to the Master of that House. I considered I was young, and

that several elderly Friends in town had Opportunity to see these

Things; but though I would gladly have been excused, yet I could not

feel my Mind clear.

The Exercise was heavy; and as I was reading what the Almighty said to

_Ezekiel_, respecting his Duty as a Watchman, the Matter was set home

more clearly; and then, with Prayers and Tears, I besought the Lord for

his Assistance, who, in Loving-kindness, gave me a resigned Heart: Then,

at a suitable Opportunity, I went to the Public-house, and, seeing the

Man amongst much Company, I went to him, and told him, I wanted to speak

with him; so we went aside, and there, in the Fear of the Almighty, I

expressed to him what rested on my Mind; which he took kindly, and

afterward shewed more Regard to me than before. In a few Years

afterwards he died, middle-aged; and I often thought that, had I

neglected my Duty in that Case, it would have given me great Trouble;

and I was humbly thankful to my gracious Father, who had supported me

herein.

My Employer having a Negro Woman, sold her, and desired me to write a

Bill of Sale, the Man being waiting who bought her: The Thing was

sudden; and, though the Thoughts of writing an Instrument of Slavery

for one of my Fellow-creatures felt uneasy, yet I remembered I was hired

by the Year, that it was my Master who directed me to do it, and that it

was an elderly Man, a Member of our Society, who bought her; so, through

Weakness, I gave way, and wrote; but, at the executing it, I was so

afflicted in my Mind, that I said, before my Master and the Friend, that

I believed Slave-keeping to be a Practice inconsistent with the

_Christian_ Religion: This in some Degree abated my Uneasiness; yet, as

often as I reflected seriously upon it, I thought I should have been

clearer, if I had desired to have been excused from it, as a Thing

against my Conscience; for such it was. And, some Time after this, a

young Man, of our Society, spoke to me to write a Conveyance of a Slave

to him, he having lately taken a Negro into his House: I told him I was

not easy to write it; for, though many of our Meeting and in other

Places kept Slaves, I still believed the Practice was not right, and

desired to be excused from the writing. I spoke to him in Good-will; and

he told me that keeping Slaves was not altogether agreeable to his Mind;

but that the Slave being a Gift to his Wife, he had accepted of her.

The journal, with other writings of John Woolman · 第 1 / 12 章