as Woolman's are perhaps more rare, as they are certainly more lovely, than mere avoidance of sin. Woolman's care was not to be seen of men, but to be prompted by "the pure spirit which inwardly moves upon the heart."[1] A man taught, as he was, "to wait in silence, sometimes many weeks together,"[2] until he hears God's voice, is not likely to offend by an appearance of self-seeking or self-praise.
Yet it would be a mistake to leave these two interesting and instructive autobiographies with the feeling that one is the record of a pure and exalted spirit, the other a story of mere self-seeking. Woolman, though both in deed and in temper, far above this world, wrought no small part of a great practical reform. If Franklin's life seems earthy in comparison, it should be remembered that, whatever his motives, he did manage to confer upon his country such benefits in science, in literature, diplomacy, practical arts, and public welfare as should entitle him to a respect which we may well deny to many of his rules for practicing the art of life. We could spare the practical advantages of having had among us a man like Franklin only if it were necessary to do so in order that the inner light which guided John Woolman might not be extinguished.
