He was scrupulously neat in his person. His linen was always very white, and his light drab-colored clothes showed no speck of dirt. He wore his beard long, and as he grew old it became very white; his curly hair also was white as snow. His dark face was very conspicuous in the midst of all this whiteness, and gave him an odd appearance. But he had such a friendly, pleasant expression of countenance, and there was so much modest dignity in his manners, that he inspired respect. A stranger once said to one of his wealthy neighbors, "I wonder that boys and giddy young folks don't ridicule that old black man, his dress and appearance are so very peculiar." The neighbor replied, "William Boen is a religious man, and everybody respects him. The light-minded are so much impressed by his well-known character, that they are restrained from making fun of his singular appearance."
He died in his ninetieth year; not from any disease, but the mere weakness of old age. His faculties were clear, and his mind serene and cheerful to the last. He spoke of his approaching death with the greatest composure; saying that he had no wish about the manner of his exit from this life, that he was resigned to the Divine will in all things.
One of the last things he said was, "I am glad to see that the feeling against slavery is growing among the Society of Friends. Once I felt as if I was alone in my testimony against that wicked system."
After his death, the Society of Friends at Mount Holly wrote a Memorial concerning his character, which was read in their Yearly Meeting. It concluded thus: "In early life, he was concerned 'to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with his God.' By close attention to the light of Christ within, he was enabled, not only to bear many precious testimonies faithfully to the end of his days, but also to bring forth those fruits of the spirit which redound to the glory of God and the salvation of the soul. As he lived, so he died,—a rare pattern of a self-denying follower of Christ. 'Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace.'"
ANECDOTE OF GENERAL WASHINGTON.
During the war of the Revolution, Primus Hall was the colored servant of Colonel Pickering, with whom General Washington often held long consultations. One night, finding they must be engaged till late, he proposed to sleep in the Colonel's tent, provided there was a spare blanket and straw. Primus, who was always eager to oblige the Commander-in-Chief, said, "Plenty of straw and blankets."
When the long conference was ended, the two officers lay down to rest on the beds he had prepared. When he saw they were asleep, he seated himself on a box, and, leaning his head on his hand, tried to take as comfortable a nap as he could. General Washington woke in the night, and seeing him nodding there, called out, "Primus!" The servant started to his feet, and exclaimed, "What do you wish for, General?"
"You told me you had plenty of straw and blankets," replied Washington; "but I see you are sitting up all night for the sake of giving me your bed."
"It is no matter about me," rejoined Primus.
"Yes, it is," replied General Washington. "If one of us must sit up, I will take my turn. But there is no need of that. The blanket is wide enough for two. Come and lie down with me."