1. “...a conspicuous figure in the Society of Friends.” [48]

2. Arthur Howell, when still a young man, was acknowledged as a minister by the Philadelphia Monthly Meeting. In a Memorial of him by the Society of Friends, it is said:
Although he was natually of a quick, lively turn of mind, by obedience to the inward teachings of truth he early knew his own will brought into subjection, and continuing faithful to his Heavenly Teacher, he came forth in the ministry in his minority.
He became zealous in the cause of religion, frequently visiting the neighboring Monthly and Quarterly Meetings and after making pilgrimages to other Quaker gatherings at a distance, journeying to the far south, and eastward as far as Rhode Island.
Various circumstances had indicated that he was often gifted with clear discernment in the spiritual things, and that his Master at times favored him with prophetic foresight.
Several anecdotes are related, evidencing the possession of this superior vision; one of them as follows:
An English woman Friend, who was in this land on a religious visit, apprehending the time of release drew near, went, accompanied by Arthur, on board a vessel just ready to sail for her native country, to feel if she would be easy to take her passage in it. Arthur became distressed and agitated, and drawing a circle with chalk on the deck, said: “I can see, as plainly as I can see that ring, that this is neither the time, nor the vessel.” The Friend did not take the passage, and the vessel sailing was never afterward heard from.
This incident, also, is told:
In 1793, when the yellow fever prevailed in Philadelphia in so alarming a manner that great numbers of the inhabitants fled from the city, Arthur Howell deemed it his place to remain, rendering such aid as was in his power to his afflicted fellow citizens. One day about the middle of the ninth month, a colored man named Benny called on him, soliciting work in sawing and preparing the winter’s wood.
The next day one of his children, noticing he seemed very serious, asked if he were ill. “No,” he answered, “but Benny is dead.” His son asked how he could say so, as the man had been at their house only the evening before. Arthur reiterated his convictions of the colored man’s death, and taking his son with him, started for his residence. As they passed along, meeting some acquantances, Arthur Howell called to them, informed them of the death, and asked them to accompany him to the house. On forcing open the door, Benny was found dead within.
Numerous other anecdotes of a similar character, relating to his marvelous prescience, are told concerning Arthur Howell.
Of his personal peculiarities, a writer has said:
In his public ministry, Arthur Howell was peculiar. His voice was loud, and as he only gave utterance to a few syllables with each breath, his communications appeared somewhat abrupt.
Another writer has described him thus:
When sitting in the preaching gallery, as beheld through the “mist of years,” he always sat shrouded beneath his hat drawn over his face, and the upper part of his outside coat elevated to meet it, like unto a prophet “in his mantle wrapt,” and isolated in thought from all sublunary things.
Arthur Howell continued in town during the yellow fever epidemic of 1793, when the city was practically depopulated, except by those too poor to leave, and those altruistic souls who remained to care for the sick and dying. He was one of the Relief Committee of forty-five men, led by Matthew Clarkson, the Mayor, who, from pure humanitarianism, consented to stay at the post of danger.
In a letter to his wife, August 30, 1793, he worte:
I am very content in my allotment, believing, yea, being unshakenly assured I am in my place, and though a thousand should fall on one side and ten thousand in another, I have nothing to fear, because the precious presence of God is with me, and until He gives me liberty to remove my dwelling, I shall not take it. Rest assured, my dear, nothing short of this and a clear prospect of duty would induce me to tarry in the city which thou knowest I have often heretofore called a city of blood.
Arthur Howell was a tanner and currier, he having followed the advocation of his father. His store was on Chestnut Street, west of Third. Speaking of his business methods, a writer has said:
He was of the strictest integrity, and he carried his notions of fair dealing to an extent that would be deemed insane in these days of commercial virtue. It is narrated of Friend Howell that, upon one occasion, he purchased a cargo of tanner’s oil on a rising market. After selling it at a higher rate than he anticipated, he repaired to the person from whom he bought, and paid him an additional dollar upon each barrel of oil. At the time of his decease he was worth one hundred thousand dollars.
Arthur Howell’s death occurred January 26, 1816. In the Memorial previously quoted, is this concluding paragraph:
And thus died Arthur Howell. He had lived beloved by his intimates, respected by the community in which he dwelt. His funeral was largely attended by the members of the religious society he belonged to, and by a very large concourse of his fellow citizens, who gathered without ostentation or parade, in the deep feeling of a public loss. [48]