April 2007
John Woolman Lived the Lessons he Taught about Contentment through Simplicity
“Friends,” said John Woolman to those gathered for Monthly Meeting at Burlington, New Jersey, early in 1772, “God has laid upon me a concern to travel across the ocean to visit Friends in northern England.”
John, now middle-aged, stood before these Friends who knew him as a man faithful to God’s calling. Older friends remembered when young John gave up shopkeeping to live a more simple life. They recalled hearing him say, “I will not wear clothes dyed with color. Colorful dyes only conceal dirt. I believe we should be clean in spirit and in body. I will not spend time and money to get fine clothes, but instead, I will give to do good for others.”
These Friends trusted John. They remembered his many travels, always following God’s leading to spread the Gospel to all he met. Now they understood his new concern to visit England.
The clerk spoke. “Friend John has told us of this leading that will take him far away. Let us wait before God to discern whether this is of the Lord.”
Heads bowed, quietness settled across the meeting. The only sounds came from outside the meetinghouse: two dogs barked as a horse and wagon clattered down the lane, another dog growled, sun-warmed icicles that lined the eaves crackled and dripped.
After a time, one man said, “I believe this concern comes from God.”
“That Friend speaks my mind.”
The clerk waited a moment. “Do we approve of giving John Woolman a certificate of travel?”
“Approved.”
Later, John communicated his concern to Quarterly Meeting and at the General Spring Meeting of ministers and elders. All signified their unity with a signed certificate directed to Friends in Great Britain and dated 24th of third month, 1772.
Soon John heard that his good friend Samuel Emlen had arranged passage to London in the cabin of a ship named Mary and Elizabeth.
“Samuel,” John said, “I may travel with you by steerage on this same ship.”
“Oh, what a delight to have you travel with me. Let us go see the ship now.”
They climbed aboard and entered the cabin. “This is a commodious room,” John observed. “Yet I see sundry sorts of carved work and exquisite workmanship of different kinds. According to the ways of men, the sum of money for a passage in here is paid to please those who conform to this world. I cannot pay my money for such purposes. Instead, I will book my passage in steerage.”
Several Friends objected. “You ought to have a more convenient place than steerage, but we will not impose our will. Instead, we will leave you in the hands of the Lord.”
From his inferior lodging in steerage, John found opportunities to speak to the young sailors. “I have, in free conversation, labored to turn their minds towards the fear of the Lord,” he noted in his journal.
Furious storms tossed the Mary and Elizabeth about like a toy. Sickness spread throughout the ship, but on June 6 the arduous journey ended. From the London docks, John set out on foot to accomplish the purpose for which he had come.
“Here, ride with us,” a family offered as they made room in their stagecoach.
“I will not travel in such conveyances,” John responded. “They travel fast and hard. Friends tell me it is common for horses to die because of the merciless driving. Some of the post-boys who ride these stages suffer and sometimes die under their hard-to-bear life. It seems everyone is in such a hurry to gain wealth. No one considers his fellow creatures and their well-being.”
John observed Friends making, buying, selling, and using unnecessary items. “My heart is sad. From there, Friends turn to superfluities in dress and in their furniture. This spreads from less to more. If Friends who have known the truth give up outward gain, and their trust is only in the Lord, He will graciously lead some to self-denial relating to trade and handicraft labor, and lead others to a plain frugal life.”
While in England, John died after falling ill with smallpox. Later, others discovered these words in his journal: “O that all may learn of Christ who was meek and lowly of heart. Then in faithfully following Him, He will teach us to be content with simple food and clothes, not worrying about customs and fashions.”
—Betty M. Hockett has served The Voice as Historical Editor since its inception in 1995. Betty and her husband, Gene, reside in Newberg, Oregon, where she continues her research and writing ministry.
