Account of Woolman’s Last Illness and Death — His Attendants

A few days after writing these considerations, our dear friend in the course of his religious visits came to the city of York, [14] and attended most of the sittings of the Quarterly Meeting there, but before it was over he was taken ill of the smallpox. Our friend Thomas Priestman, and others who attended him, preserved the following minutes of his expressions in the time of his sickness:—

First day the 27th of the Ninth Month, 1772.—His disorder appeared to be the smallpox. Being asked to have a doctor’s advice, he signified he had not freedom or liberty in his mind so to do, standing wholly resigned to His will who gave him life, and whose power he had witnessed to raise and heal him in sickness before, when he seemed nigh unto death; and if he was to wind up now, he was perfectly resigned, having no will either to live or die, and did not choose any should be sent for to him; but a young man, an apothecary, coming of his own accord the next day and desiring to do something for him, he said he found a freedom to confer with him and the other Friends about him, and 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.

Second day.—He said he felt the disorder to affect his head, so that he could think little and but as a child, and desired, if his understanding should be more affected, to have nothing given him that those about him knew he had a testimony against.

Third day.—He uttered the following prayer:—“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 depth and extent of 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, I stretched out my arm, but there was none to help me; I looked round about and was amazed. In the depth 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 my 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 showed to us in the most affecting example of Thy Son, and Thou taught me to follow Him, and I said, ‘Thy will, O Father, be done.’”

Fourth day morning.—Being asked how he felt himself he meekly answered, “I don’t know that I have slept this night; I feel the disorder making its progress, but my mind is mercifully preserved in stillness and peace.” Some time after, he said he was sensible that the pains of death must be hard to bear, and if he escaped them now, he must sometime pass through them, and he did not know that he could be better prepared, but had no will in it. He said he had settled his outward affairs to his mind, had taken leave of his wife and family as never to return, leaving them to the divine protection, adding, “Though I feel them near to me at this time, yet I have freely given them up, having a hope that they will be provided for.” And a little after said, “This trial is made easier than I could have thought, my will being wholly taken away; if I was anxious for the event it would have been harder; but I am not, and my mind enjoys a perfect calm.”

In the night, a young woman having given him something to drink, he said, “My child, thou seemest very kind to me, a poor creature; the Lord will reward thee for it.” Awhile after he cried out with great earnestness of spirit, “O my Father! my Father! how comfortable art Thou to my soul in this trying season!” Being asked if he could take a little nourishment, after some pause he replied, “My child, I cannot tell what to say to it; I seem nearly arrived where my soul shall have rest from all its troubles.” After giving in something to be inserted in his journal, he said, “I believe the Lord will now excuse me from exercises of this kind; and I see no work but one, which is to be the last wrought by me in this world; the messenger will come that will release me from all these troubles, but it must be in the Lord’s time, which I am waiting for.” He said he had laboured to do whatever was required according to the ability received, in the remembrance of which he had peace; and though the disorder was strong at times, and would like a whirlwind come over his mind, yet it had hitherto been kept steady and centred in everlasting love; adding, “And if that be mercifully continued, I ask and desire no more.” Another time he said he had long had a view of visiting this nation, and some time before he came, had a dream, in which he saw himself in the northern parts of it, and that the spring of the Gospel was opened in Him much as it was in the beginning of Friends, such as George Fox and William Dewsbury, and he saw the different states of the people as clear as he had ever seen flowers in a garden; but in his going along he was suddenly stopped, though he could not see for what end; but, looking toward home, fell into a flood of tears, which waked him.

At another time he said, “My draught seemed strongest towards the north, and I mentioned in my own Monthly Meeting, that attending the Quarterly Meeting at York, and being there, looked like home to me.”

Fifth day night.—Having repeatedly consented to take medicine, but without effect, the Friend then waiting on him said through distress, “What shall I do now?” He answered with great composure, “Rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks”; but added a little after, “This is something hard to come at.”

On sixth day morning he broke forth early in supplication on this wise: “O Lord, it was Thy power that enabled me to forsake sin in my youth, and I have felt Thy bruises for disobedience, but as I bowed under them Thou healedst me, continuing a father and a friend; I feel Thy power now, and I beg that in the approaching trying moment Thou wilt keep my heart steadfast unto Thee.” On his giving directions to a Friend concerning some little things, she said, “I will take care, but hope thou wilt live to order them thyself.” He replied, “My hope is in Christ, and though I may seem a little better, a change in the disorder may soon happen, and my little strength be dissolved, and if it so happen I shall be gathered to my everlasting rest.” On her saying she did not doubt that, but could not help mourning to see so many faithful servants removed at so low a time, he said, “All good cometh from the Lord, whose power is the same, and He can work as He sees best.” The same day he had directions given about wrapping his corpse; perceiving a Friend to weep, he said, “I would rather thou wouldst guard against weeping for me, my sister; I sorrow not, though I have had some painful conflicts, but now they seem over, and matters well settled; and I look at the face of my dear Redeemer, for sweet is His voice, and His countenance is comely.”

First day, 4th of Tenth Month.—Being very weak and in general difficult to be understood, he uttered a few words in commemoration of the Lord’s goodness, and added, “How tenderly have I been waited on in this time of affliction, in which I may say in Job’s words, tedious days and ‘wearisome nights are appointed to me’; and how many are spending their time and money in vanity and superfluities, while thousands and tens of thousands want the necessaries of life, who might be relieved by them, and their distress at such a time as this in some degree softened by the administering of suitable things.”

Second day morning.—The apothecary, who appeared very anxious to help him, being present, he queried about the probability of such a load of matter being thrown off his weak body; and the apothecary making some remarks implying he thought it might, he spoke with an audible voice on this wise: “My dependence is on the Lord Jesus, who I trust will forgive my sins, which is all I hope for; and if it be His will to raise up this body again, I am content; and if to die, I am resigned; but if thou canst not be easy without trying to assist nature, I submit.” After this, his throat was so much affected that it was very difficult for him to speak so as to be understood, and he frequently wrote when he wanted anything. About the second hour on fourth day morning he asked for pen and ink, and at several times, with much difficulty, wrote thus: “I believe my being here is in the wisdom of Christ; I know not as to life or death.”

About a quarter before six the same morning he seemed to fall into an easy sleep, which continued about half an hour, when, seeming to awake, he breathed a few times with more difficulty, and expired without sigh, groan, or struggle.