In enclosing the preceding note to the Rev. Dr. Hamilton, Mr. Lawrence writes, Sept. 4:
"The writer of the foregoing is the Rev. Dr. Lowell, of this city, who is broken down in health, but not at all in his confidenceand hope and joy in the beloved Jesus. Of all men I have ever known, Dr. Lowell is one of the brightest exemplars of the character and teachings of the Master; for all denominations respect him, and confide in him. For more than forty years I have known him; and, in all the relations of a good pastor to his people, I have never known a better. I have met him in the sick chamber, with the dying, and in the house of prayer. In the character of a teacher, and a leader of the people heavenward, no one among us has been more valued. Although I have not been a member of his church, he has, in times of great urgency, supplied our pulpit, and has always been ready to attend my family and friends when asked. I sent him such of your writings as I had in store for circulation, 'The Royal Preacher' among them; and I must say to you that I think no living man is preaching to greater multitudes than you are at this day. I have circulated tens of thousands of your tracts and volumes, and, if I am spared, hope to continue the good work. Millions of souls will be influenced by your labors."
"The writer of the foregoing is the Rev. Dr. Lowell, of this city, who is broken down in health, but not at all in his confidenceand hope and joy in the beloved Jesus. Of all men I have ever known, Dr. Lowell is one of the brightest exemplars of the character and teachings of the Master; for all denominations respect him, and confide in him. For more than forty years I have known him; and, in all the relations of a good pastor to his people, I have never known a better. I have met him in the sick chamber, with the dying, and in the house of prayer. In the character of a teacher, and a leader of the people heavenward, no one among us has been more valued. Although I have not been a member of his church, he has, in times of great urgency, supplied our pulpit, and has always been ready to attend my family and friends when asked. I sent him such of your writings as I had in store for circulation, 'The Royal Preacher' among them; and I must say to you that I think no living man is preaching to greater multitudes than you are at this day. I have circulated tens of thousands of your tracts and volumes, and, if I am spared, hope to continue the good work. Millions of souls will be influenced by your labors."
(FROM LADY BUXTON.)"Northrupp's Hill, Sept. 8, 1852."My dear Friend: Again I have to thank you for your kind remembrance of me in your note and little book on the abuse of tobacco, and your sympathy with me in my late deep anxiety, ending in the removal of my most tenderly beloved and valued daughter Priscilla. It pleased God to take her to himself on June 18, to the inexpressible loss and grief of myself, and her husband and children. We surely sorrow with hope; for she had loved and followed the Lord Jesus from her childhood, and had known and obeyed the Holy Scriptures, which did make her, under the influence of the blessed Spirit, wise unto salvation. To her, to live was Christ, and therefore to die, gain; and we are thankful, and rejoice for her. Her spirit is with the Lord, beholding and sharing his glory, and reünited to her dearest father, brothers, and sisters, and many beloved on earth, in joy unspeakable. Still, we do and are permitted to mourn. * *"Priscilla traced the foundation of her illness to the great exertion she used in revising and altering her father's work on the remedy for the slave-trade. The stress upon her feelings and mind was too great for her susceptible nature. I believe it might be traced further back to her very great efforts to assist her father in his public business; so that I may say, I have had to partwith the two most beloved, and gifted nearly, I have ever known, for the cause of God. But the comfort is intense that they cannot lose the abundant recompense of reward given through mercy and favor, not for any merits of their own, to those who love and serve the Lord. I must thank you most warmly again for the valuable gift of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.' When it arrived, it was unknown in this country; now it is universally read, but sold at such a cheap rate, in such poor print, that this very beautiful copy is quite sought after. How wonderfully successful a work it has proved! I hope your little book upon tobacco may be of use here. I shall send it to my grandsons at Rugby. I fear you have been suffering much from bodily illness and infirmity, my dear friend. I trust your interesting circle about you are all well and prospering, and enjoying the blessing and presence of the Saviour. With kindest regards and affection, I am yours very sincerely,H. Buxton."
(FROM LADY BUXTON.)
"Northrupp's Hill, Sept. 8, 1852.
"My dear Friend: Again I have to thank you for your kind remembrance of me in your note and little book on the abuse of tobacco, and your sympathy with me in my late deep anxiety, ending in the removal of my most tenderly beloved and valued daughter Priscilla. It pleased God to take her to himself on June 18, to the inexpressible loss and grief of myself, and her husband and children. We surely sorrow with hope; for she had loved and followed the Lord Jesus from her childhood, and had known and obeyed the Holy Scriptures, which did make her, under the influence of the blessed Spirit, wise unto salvation. To her, to live was Christ, and therefore to die, gain; and we are thankful, and rejoice for her. Her spirit is with the Lord, beholding and sharing his glory, and reünited to her dearest father, brothers, and sisters, and many beloved on earth, in joy unspeakable. Still, we do and are permitted to mourn. * *
"Priscilla traced the foundation of her illness to the great exertion she used in revising and altering her father's work on the remedy for the slave-trade. The stress upon her feelings and mind was too great for her susceptible nature. I believe it might be traced further back to her very great efforts to assist her father in his public business; so that I may say, I have had to partwith the two most beloved, and gifted nearly, I have ever known, for the cause of God. But the comfort is intense that they cannot lose the abundant recompense of reward given through mercy and favor, not for any merits of their own, to those who love and serve the Lord. I must thank you most warmly again for the valuable gift of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.' When it arrived, it was unknown in this country; now it is universally read, but sold at such a cheap rate, in such poor print, that this very beautiful copy is quite sought after. How wonderfully successful a work it has proved! I hope your little book upon tobacco may be of use here. I shall send it to my grandsons at Rugby. I fear you have been suffering much from bodily illness and infirmity, my dear friend. I trust your interesting circle about you are all well and prospering, and enjoying the blessing and presence of the Saviour. With kindest regards and affection, I am yours very sincerely,
H. Buxton."
"September 23, 1852.—By a singular coincidence, at the same time I received Lady Buxton's letter, I received one from 'Mrs. Sunny Side,'[18]from her sick chamber, asking the loan of some of Miss Edgeworth's works; also a note from Mrs. Stowe, giving me some information respecting the publication of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' in England and Germany; also a letter from our minister in Portugal; and, three or four hours later, 'Uncle Toby' called, having spent the day in the Mather School, lecturing on tobacco."
"September 23, 1852.—By a singular coincidence, at the same time I received Lady Buxton's letter, I received one from 'Mrs. Sunny Side,'[18]from her sick chamber, asking the loan of some of Miss Edgeworth's works; also a note from Mrs. Stowe, giving me some information respecting the publication of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' in England and Germany; also a letter from our minister in Portugal; and, three or four hours later, 'Uncle Toby' called, having spent the day in the Mather School, lecturing on tobacco."
From a letter written about this time, an extract ismade, which is interesting as showing his system of diet.
"My own wants are next to nothing, as I live on the most simple food,—crusts and coffee for breakfast; crusts and champagne for dinner, with never more than three ounces of chicken, or two ounces of tender beef, without any vegetable, together eight ounces; coarse wheat-meal crusts, and two or three ounces of meat, in the twenty-four hours,—beginning hungry, and leaving off more hungry. I have not sat at table with my family for fifteen years, nor eaten a full meal during that time, and am now more hale and hearty than during that whole period."
"My own wants are next to nothing, as I live on the most simple food,—crusts and coffee for breakfast; crusts and champagne for dinner, with never more than three ounces of chicken, or two ounces of tender beef, without any vegetable, together eight ounces; coarse wheat-meal crusts, and two or three ounces of meat, in the twenty-four hours,—beginning hungry, and leaving off more hungry. I have not sat at table with my family for fifteen years, nor eaten a full meal during that time, and am now more hale and hearty than during that whole period."
(TO A LADY IN FLORIDA.)"Boston, Oct. 14, 1852."Dear Mrs. ——: Your deeply interesting note reached me within the last half-hour; and I feel that no time should be lost in my reply. My life has been protracted beyond all my friends' expectations, and almost beyond my own hopes; yet I enjoy the days with all the zest of early youth, and feel myself a spare hand to do such work as the Master lays out before me. This of aiding you is one of the things for which I am spared; and I therefore forward one hundred dollars, which, if you are not willing to accept, you may use for the benefit of some other person or persons, at your discretion. Your precious brother has passed on; and, in God's good time, I hope to see him face to face, and to receive, through the Beloved, the 'Well done' promised to such as have used their Lord's trusts as he approves. I enclose you Lieut. ——'s letter on his return from sea. * * * *"I had a charming ride yesterday with my nephew Frank Pierce, and told him I thought he must occupy the White Housethe next term, but that I should go for Scott. Pierce is a fine, spirited fellow, and will do his duty wherever placed; but Scott will be my choice for President of the United States. God bless you, my child, and have you in the hollow of his hand, in these days of trial.Your friend,A. L."
(TO A LADY IN FLORIDA.)
"Boston, Oct. 14, 1852.
"Dear Mrs. ——: Your deeply interesting note reached me within the last half-hour; and I feel that no time should be lost in my reply. My life has been protracted beyond all my friends' expectations, and almost beyond my own hopes; yet I enjoy the days with all the zest of early youth, and feel myself a spare hand to do such work as the Master lays out before me. This of aiding you is one of the things for which I am spared; and I therefore forward one hundred dollars, which, if you are not willing to accept, you may use for the benefit of some other person or persons, at your discretion. Your precious brother has passed on; and, in God's good time, I hope to see him face to face, and to receive, through the Beloved, the 'Well done' promised to such as have used their Lord's trusts as he approves. I enclose you Lieut. ——'s letter on his return from sea. * * * *
"I had a charming ride yesterday with my nephew Frank Pierce, and told him I thought he must occupy the White Housethe next term, but that I should go for Scott. Pierce is a fine, spirited fellow, and will do his duty wherever placed; but Scott will be my choice for President of the United States. God bless you, my child, and have you in the hollow of his hand, in these days of trial.
Your friend,
A. L."
(TO THE HON. JONATHAN PHILLIPS.)"Boston, Oct. 25, 1852."To my respected and honored Friend: The changing scenes of life sometimes recall with peculiar freshness the events and feelings of years long past; and such is the case with me, growing out of the death of our great New England statesman, who has, for a long period of years, been looked up to as preaching and teaching the highest duties of American citizens with a power rarely equalled, never surpassed. He is now suddenly called to the bar of that Judge who sees not as man sees, and where mercy, not merit, will render the cheering 'Well done' to all who have used their trusts as faithful stewards of their Lord,—the richest prize to be thought of. Our great man had great virtues, and, doubtless, some defects; and I pray God that the former may be written in the hearts of his countrymen, the latter in the sea. Here I begin the story that comes over my thoughts."About forty years ago, walking past your father's house, with my wife and some of our family friends, on a bright, moonlight night, we were led to discuss the character of the owner (your honored father); some of the party wishing they might possess a small part of the property which would make them happy, others something else, when my own wish was expressed. It was, that I might use whatever Providence might allow me to possess as faithfully as your father used his possessions, and that I should esteem such a reputation as his a betterinheritance for my children than the highest political honors the country could bestow. A few years later, I was visiting Stafford Springs with my wife, and there met you and Mrs. P., and first made your acquaintance. Still a few years later, I became personally acquainted with your father by being chosen a Director of the Massachusetts Bank, he being President. Still later, I became more intimate with yourself by being a member of the Legislature with you, when the seceders from Williams College petitioned to be chartered as Amherst College, which you opposed by the best speech that was made; and we voted against the separation, and, I believe, acted together on all the subjects brought up during that session. Since then, which is about thirty years, I have been a successful business man, although, for the last twenty years, I have been a broken machine, that, by all common experience, should have been cast aside. But I am still moving; and no period of my life has had more to charm, or has had more flowers by the wayside, than my every-day life, with all my privations. The great secret of the enjoyment is, that I am able to do some further work, as your father's example taught me, when the question was discussed near forty years ago. Can you wonder, then, my friend, that I wish our names associated in one of the best literary institutions in this country; viz., Williams College? My interest in it seemed to be accidental, but must have been providential; for we cannot tell, till we reach a better world, what influence your speech had in directing my especial attention to the noble head of the college, when I first met him in a private circle in this city; and, since then, my respect for his character, my love for him as a man and a brother, has caused me to feel an interest in his college that I never should have felt without this personal intercourse. The two hundred young men there need more teachers; and the college, in view of its wantshas appealed to the public for fifty thousand dollars, to place it upon an independent footing. * * * * *"There is money enough for all these good objects; and, if our worthy citizens can only be made to see that it will be returned to them four-fold, in the enjoyment of life in the way that never clogs, it will not be thought presumptuous in me to advise to such investments. From long observation, I am satisfied that we do better by being our own executors, than by hoarding large sums for our descendants. Pardon me for thus writing to you; but knowing, as I do, that the college has commenced its appeal for aid, I am sure you will excuse me, whether you contribute to its aid or not. With great respect, I am, as I have always been,"Your friend,Amos Lawrence."P. S.—If you wish to talk with me, I shall be rejoiced to say what I know about the college."
(TO THE HON. JONATHAN PHILLIPS.)
"Boston, Oct. 25, 1852.
"To my respected and honored Friend: The changing scenes of life sometimes recall with peculiar freshness the events and feelings of years long past; and such is the case with me, growing out of the death of our great New England statesman, who has, for a long period of years, been looked up to as preaching and teaching the highest duties of American citizens with a power rarely equalled, never surpassed. He is now suddenly called to the bar of that Judge who sees not as man sees, and where mercy, not merit, will render the cheering 'Well done' to all who have used their trusts as faithful stewards of their Lord,—the richest prize to be thought of. Our great man had great virtues, and, doubtless, some defects; and I pray God that the former may be written in the hearts of his countrymen, the latter in the sea. Here I begin the story that comes over my thoughts.
"About forty years ago, walking past your father's house, with my wife and some of our family friends, on a bright, moonlight night, we were led to discuss the character of the owner (your honored father); some of the party wishing they might possess a small part of the property which would make them happy, others something else, when my own wish was expressed. It was, that I might use whatever Providence might allow me to possess as faithfully as your father used his possessions, and that I should esteem such a reputation as his a betterinheritance for my children than the highest political honors the country could bestow. A few years later, I was visiting Stafford Springs with my wife, and there met you and Mrs. P., and first made your acquaintance. Still a few years later, I became personally acquainted with your father by being chosen a Director of the Massachusetts Bank, he being President. Still later, I became more intimate with yourself by being a member of the Legislature with you, when the seceders from Williams College petitioned to be chartered as Amherst College, which you opposed by the best speech that was made; and we voted against the separation, and, I believe, acted together on all the subjects brought up during that session. Since then, which is about thirty years, I have been a successful business man, although, for the last twenty years, I have been a broken machine, that, by all common experience, should have been cast aside. But I am still moving; and no period of my life has had more to charm, or has had more flowers by the wayside, than my every-day life, with all my privations. The great secret of the enjoyment is, that I am able to do some further work, as your father's example taught me, when the question was discussed near forty years ago. Can you wonder, then, my friend, that I wish our names associated in one of the best literary institutions in this country; viz., Williams College? My interest in it seemed to be accidental, but must have been providential; for we cannot tell, till we reach a better world, what influence your speech had in directing my especial attention to the noble head of the college, when I first met him in a private circle in this city; and, since then, my respect for his character, my love for him as a man and a brother, has caused me to feel an interest in his college that I never should have felt without this personal intercourse. The two hundred young men there need more teachers; and the college, in view of its wantshas appealed to the public for fifty thousand dollars, to place it upon an independent footing. * * * * *
"There is money enough for all these good objects; and, if our worthy citizens can only be made to see that it will be returned to them four-fold, in the enjoyment of life in the way that never clogs, it will not be thought presumptuous in me to advise to such investments. From long observation, I am satisfied that we do better by being our own executors, than by hoarding large sums for our descendants. Pardon me for thus writing to you; but knowing, as I do, that the college has commenced its appeal for aid, I am sure you will excuse me, whether you contribute to its aid or not. With great respect, I am, as I have always been,
"Your friend,
Amos Lawrence.
"P. S.—If you wish to talk with me, I shall be rejoiced to say what I know about the college."
In his diary of the same date, Mr. Lawrence writes:
"6P. M.—My good old friend has called to see and talk with me, and a most agreeable conversation we have had. He expressed good wishes for the college, and will subscribe a thousand dollars at once, which is a cheering beginning in this city. The interest in the college will grow here, when people know more about it.""Boston,Saturday morning, Nov. 13, 1852.—The circumstances which have brought me the following letter from my valued friend, 'Honest John Davis,' are these: Many years ago, I learned, from undoubted sources, that his pecuniary losses,through the agency of others, had so straitened him as to decide him to take his two sons from Williams College, which seemed to me a pity; and I therefore enclosed to him five hundred dollars, with a request that he would keep his boys in college, and, when his affairs became right again, that he might pay the same to the college for some future needy pupils. Two or three years afterwards, he said he was intending to hand over to the college the five hundred dollars, which I advised not to do until it was perfectly convenient for him. The circumstances which now call him out are very interesting; and, to me, the money seems worth ten times the amount received in the common business of life. Within ten minutes after Mr. Davis's letter was read to me, Dr. Peters, the agent of the college to collect funds for its necessities, called in to report progress in his work. I immediately handed over the five hundred dollars from John Davis, with a request that he would acknowledge its reception to my friend at once."
"6P. M.—My good old friend has called to see and talk with me, and a most agreeable conversation we have had. He expressed good wishes for the college, and will subscribe a thousand dollars at once, which is a cheering beginning in this city. The interest in the college will grow here, when people know more about it."
"Boston,Saturday morning, Nov. 13, 1852.—The circumstances which have brought me the following letter from my valued friend, 'Honest John Davis,' are these: Many years ago, I learned, from undoubted sources, that his pecuniary losses,through the agency of others, had so straitened him as to decide him to take his two sons from Williams College, which seemed to me a pity; and I therefore enclosed to him five hundred dollars, with a request that he would keep his boys in college, and, when his affairs became right again, that he might pay the same to the college for some future needy pupils. Two or three years afterwards, he said he was intending to hand over to the college the five hundred dollars, which I advised not to do until it was perfectly convenient for him. The circumstances which now call him out are very interesting; and, to me, the money seems worth ten times the amount received in the common business of life. Within ten minutes after Mr. Davis's letter was read to me, Dr. Peters, the agent of the college to collect funds for its necessities, called in to report progress in his work. I immediately handed over the five hundred dollars from John Davis, with a request that he would acknowledge its reception to my friend at once."
"Worcester, Nov. 12, 1852."My dear Sir: I have been in Boston but once since my return from Washington, and then failed to see you. Nevertheless, you are seldom absent from our thoughts; you do so much which reminds us of the duties of life, and fixes in our minds sentiments of cherished regard and unalterable affection. No one can desire a more enviable distinction, a more emphatic name, than he whom all tongues proclaim to be the good man; the man who comprehends his mission, and, with unvarying steadiness of purpose, fulfils it. There is such a thing as mental superiority, as elevated station, as commanding influence, as glory, as honor; and these are sometimes all centered in the same individual; but, if that individual has no heart; if humanity is not mixed in his nature; if he has no ear for the infirmities, the weaknesses, andsufferings of his fellow-beings,—he is like the massive, coarse walls of a lofty fortress, having strength, greatness, and power; but, as a man, he is unfinished. He may have much to excite surprise or to overawe, but nothing to awaken the finer sensibilities of our nature, or to win our love. The divine efflatus has never softened the soul of such a man. The heavenly attributes of mercy, brotherly love, and charity, have never touched his heart with sympathy for his race. He forgets that a fellow-being, however humble, is the work of the same God who made him, and that the work of the Almighty has a purpose. He forgets the great command to love our neighbor. He forgets that all who are stricken down with disease, poverty, affliction, or suffering, are our neighbors; and that he who ministers to such, be he Jew or Samaritan, is, in the lofty, scriptural sense, a neighbor. Neither the hereditary descent of the Levite, nor the purple of the priest, makes a neighbor; but it is he who binds up the bleeding wound. This is the act upon which Heaven places its seal of approval, as pleasing in the sight of him that is perfect. Where there is an absence of purity of heart or generous sympathy, the man lacks the most ornate embellishment of character, that lustrous brightness which is the type of heaven. To minister to the necessities of the humble and lowly is the work of God's angels; and the man who follows their example cannot be far from his Maker. You have the means of doing good; but have what is greater, and a more marked distinction, the disposition to do it when and where it is needed. Your heart is always alive, and your hand untiring. * * * * *"Some years ago, you did that for me and mine which will command my gratitude while I live. I needed aid to educate my children; and you, in a spirit of marked generosity, came unasked to my relief. I need not say how deeply, how sincerelythankful I was, that one, upon whom I had no claim, should manifest so generous a spirit. After a while, times changed somewhat for the better; and, feeling that I was able to do it, I asked permission to restore the sum advanced, that you, to whom it belonged, might have the disposition of it, since it had performed with me the good that was intended. You kindly gave me leave to hand it over to the college, but advised me to take my own time, and suit my convenience. That time has now come; and, as you are again extending to the college your sustaining arm, and may wish to take this matter into the account, I herewith enclose a check for five hundred dollars, with the renewed thanks of myself and my wife for the great and generous service which you have done us. We shall, in all respects, have profited greatly by it; and have no wish to cancel our obligations by this act, but to recognize them in their fullest extent. I am, most truly and faithfully,"Your friend and obedient servant,"John Davis."
"Worcester, Nov. 12, 1852.
"My dear Sir: I have been in Boston but once since my return from Washington, and then failed to see you. Nevertheless, you are seldom absent from our thoughts; you do so much which reminds us of the duties of life, and fixes in our minds sentiments of cherished regard and unalterable affection. No one can desire a more enviable distinction, a more emphatic name, than he whom all tongues proclaim to be the good man; the man who comprehends his mission, and, with unvarying steadiness of purpose, fulfils it. There is such a thing as mental superiority, as elevated station, as commanding influence, as glory, as honor; and these are sometimes all centered in the same individual; but, if that individual has no heart; if humanity is not mixed in his nature; if he has no ear for the infirmities, the weaknesses, andsufferings of his fellow-beings,—he is like the massive, coarse walls of a lofty fortress, having strength, greatness, and power; but, as a man, he is unfinished. He may have much to excite surprise or to overawe, but nothing to awaken the finer sensibilities of our nature, or to win our love. The divine efflatus has never softened the soul of such a man. The heavenly attributes of mercy, brotherly love, and charity, have never touched his heart with sympathy for his race. He forgets that a fellow-being, however humble, is the work of the same God who made him, and that the work of the Almighty has a purpose. He forgets the great command to love our neighbor. He forgets that all who are stricken down with disease, poverty, affliction, or suffering, are our neighbors; and that he who ministers to such, be he Jew or Samaritan, is, in the lofty, scriptural sense, a neighbor. Neither the hereditary descent of the Levite, nor the purple of the priest, makes a neighbor; but it is he who binds up the bleeding wound. This is the act upon which Heaven places its seal of approval, as pleasing in the sight of him that is perfect. Where there is an absence of purity of heart or generous sympathy, the man lacks the most ornate embellishment of character, that lustrous brightness which is the type of heaven. To minister to the necessities of the humble and lowly is the work of God's angels; and the man who follows their example cannot be far from his Maker. You have the means of doing good; but have what is greater, and a more marked distinction, the disposition to do it when and where it is needed. Your heart is always alive, and your hand untiring. * * * * *
"Some years ago, you did that for me and mine which will command my gratitude while I live. I needed aid to educate my children; and you, in a spirit of marked generosity, came unasked to my relief. I need not say how deeply, how sincerelythankful I was, that one, upon whom I had no claim, should manifest so generous a spirit. After a while, times changed somewhat for the better; and, feeling that I was able to do it, I asked permission to restore the sum advanced, that you, to whom it belonged, might have the disposition of it, since it had performed with me the good that was intended. You kindly gave me leave to hand it over to the college, but advised me to take my own time, and suit my convenience. That time has now come; and, as you are again extending to the college your sustaining arm, and may wish to take this matter into the account, I herewith enclose a check for five hundred dollars, with the renewed thanks of myself and my wife for the great and generous service which you have done us. We shall, in all respects, have profited greatly by it; and have no wish to cancel our obligations by this act, but to recognize them in their fullest extent. I am, most truly and faithfully,
"Your friend and obedient servant,"John Davis."
Some inquiries having been made of Mr. Lawrence respecting the early history of the Bunker Hill Monument, he writes, on the 12th of November, in a short note:
Dear Son: You may be glad to copy the twelfth section of my will, executed in 1833. This information is not before the world, but may be interesting to your children. I could have finished the monument, sick as I was, at any time before Edmund Dwight's death, by enlisting with him, who made me the offer, to join a small number of friends (three Appletons, Robert G.Shaw, and us three Lawrences), without saying, 'by your leave,' to the public."* * * * *"Surety-ship is a dangerous craft to embark in. Avoid it as you would a sail-boat with no other fastenings than mere wooden pegs and cobweb sails."
Dear Son: You may be glad to copy the twelfth section of my will, executed in 1833. This information is not before the world, but may be interesting to your children. I could have finished the monument, sick as I was, at any time before Edmund Dwight's death, by enlisting with him, who made me the offer, to join a small number of friends (three Appletons, Robert G.Shaw, and us three Lawrences), without saying, 'by your leave,' to the public."
* * * * *
"Surety-ship is a dangerous craft to embark in. Avoid it as you would a sail-boat with no other fastenings than mere wooden pegs and cobweb sails."
In November, Robert G. Shaw, Esq., and Mr. Lawrence, were chosen Presidential Electors for the district in which they resided. Both, at that time, were in the enjoyment of their usual health, and yet both were removed within a few months by death. The Electoral College was convened in the State House at Boston, in December; and Mr. Lawrence has noticed the event by a memorandum, endorsed upon his commission of Elector, as follows:
"December 1.—I have attended to the duty, and have given my vote to Winfield Scott for President, and William A. Graham for Vice-President."
"December 1.—I have attended to the duty, and have given my vote to Winfield Scott for President, and William A. Graham for Vice-President."
He did not add, that, before leaving the State House, he gave the customary fee paid in such cases towards freeing the family of a negro from slavery.
But little is found in the handwriting of Mr. Lawrence for the month of December, except his usual record of donations to charitable objects. He seems to have written but few letters, which may in part beaccounted for by having had his time much occupied by a most agreeable intercourse with Gen. Franklin Pierce, who, with his family, were his guests during a part of the month. That gentleman had for many years been on terms of intimate friendship with Mr. Lawrence, and had kept up a familiar correspondence from Washington and elsewhere, which no political differences had abated. He had always been a favorite; and now, having been elected to the Presidential chair, and engaged in plans for his future administration, it may be imagined what interest this intercourse excited in Mr. Lawrence, deeply concerned as he was in every movement that tended to promote the political and moral welfare of the country. Many excursions were made to the interesting spots and charitable institutions of Boston and its vicinity, during this visit, which has a melancholy interest from the events which immediately followed it. On the twenty-sixth, General and Mrs. Pierce left Boston for their home at Concord, N. H., with the intention of spending a few days with their friends at Andover. They were accompanied by their only child Benjamin, a bright and promising boy, twelve years of age, whose melancholy death, but a few days afterwards, will give an interest to the following note, which he wrote to Mr. Lawrence in acknowledgment of a little token of remembrance:
"Andover, Dec. 27, 1852."Dear Uncle Lawrence: I admire the beautiful pencil you sent me, and I think I shall find it very useful. I shall keep it very carefully for your sake, and I hope that I may learn to write all the better with it. It was kind in you to write such a good little note, too; and I see that being industrious while you were young enables you to be kind and benevolent now that you are old. I think that you have given me very good advice, and I hope I shall profit by it. So, dear uncle, with much love to aunt, I am"Your affectionate nephew,"B. Pierce."
"Andover, Dec. 27, 1852.
"Dear Uncle Lawrence: I admire the beautiful pencil you sent me, and I think I shall find it very useful. I shall keep it very carefully for your sake, and I hope that I may learn to write all the better with it. It was kind in you to write such a good little note, too; and I see that being industrious while you were young enables you to be kind and benevolent now that you are old. I think that you have given me very good advice, and I hope I shall profit by it. So, dear uncle, with much love to aunt, I am
"Your affectionate nephew,
"B. Pierce."
The brief history of this promising boy, who exhibited a maturity and thoughtfulness far beyond his years, is soon told. Nine days afterwards, in company with his father and mother, he left Andover on his return home. A few minutes after starting, the cars were precipitated down a steep bank, among the rocks, causing the instant death of Benjamin, and bruising the father and many other passengers severely. The accident sent a thrill of sympathy throughout the Union, and cast a withering blight upon the prospects of the bereaved parents, which, amidst all earthly distinctions, can never be forgotten, and which has perhaps rendered more irksome the great and unceasing responsibilities of high official station.
"Dec. 28.—I sent a large bundle of clothing materials, books, and other items, with sixty dollars, by steamer for Bangor,to Professor Pond, of Bangor Theological Seminary, for the students. Also gave a parcel, costing twenty-five dollars, to Mrs. ——, who is a Groton girl, and now having twins, making twenty children: is very poor."Dec. 30.—To Professor ——, by dear S., one hundred dollars. Books and items to-day, five dollars."
"Dec. 28.—I sent a large bundle of clothing materials, books, and other items, with sixty dollars, by steamer for Bangor,to Professor Pond, of Bangor Theological Seminary, for the students. Also gave a parcel, costing twenty-five dollars, to Mrs. ——, who is a Groton girl, and now having twins, making twenty children: is very poor.
"Dec. 30.—To Professor ——, by dear S., one hundred dollars. Books and items to-day, five dollars."
These were his last entries.
On the afternoon of the above date, the writer, in his usual walk, passed Mr. Lawrence's door with the intention of calling on his return, but, after proceeding a few steps, decided, from some unaccountable motive, to give up the accustomed exercise, and pass the time with his father. Mr. Lawrence appeared in excellent health and spirits; and nearly an hour was agreeably spent in discussing the topics of the day. He seemed more than usually communicative; and, although always kind and affectionate, there was, on this occasion, an unusual softness of manner, and tenderness of expression, which cannot be forgotten. The last topic touched upon was the character of a prominent statesman, just deceased, and the evidence which he had given of preparation for an exchange of worlds. He spoke somewhat fully upon the nature of such preparation, and expressed a strong hope, that, in the present instance, the exchange had been a happy one.
In the latter part of the evening, Mr. Lawrence addressed to his friend, Prof. Packard, of Bowdoin College, the following note, in reply to some questionsasked by that gentleman in regard to the Bunker Hill Monument, of which he was preparing a history for publication among the records of the Maine Historical Society:
"Boston, December 30, 1852, evening."My dear Friend: Your letter of Tuesday reached me just before my morning excursion to Longwood to see our loved one there. In reply to your first query, I answer, that Mr. E. Everett presented a design of Bunker Hill Monument, which was very classic, and was supported by Col. Perkins and Gen. Dearborn, I believe, and perhaps one or two more. Young Greenough (Horatio), then a student of Harvard College, sent in a plan with an essay, that manifested extraordinary talents, and was substantially adopted, although the column was amended by the talents, taste, and influence of Loammi Baldwin, one of our directors. The discussion of the model was very interesting; and, among the whole mass of plans, this of Mr. Everett and Mr. Baldwin, or, as I before said, a modification of Greenough's, were the only ones that were thought of. Mr. Everett, and those who favored his classic plan, were very cordial in their support of the plan of the monument as it is, very soon after its adoption. Mr. Ticknor was very active in support of the plan as adopted; and I have a strong impression that young Greenough's arguments were wholly just, and, abating some assertions which seemed a little strong for a mere college-lad, were true and unexceptionable. I write from memory, and not from overlooking the plans carefully since the time they were considered. Young Greenough I felt a deep interest in, and advanced money to his father to allow him to go abroad to study, which has been repaid since his father's death. Here I have an interesting story to tell you of this debt, which I wished to cancel, that the widow might receive the amount. Mr.Greenough was near his end, and deeply affected, but fully persuaded that, by the provisions of his will, his widow would soon have an ample income, and declined the offer. It has turned out better than he ever anticipated. The books shall go forward, as you requested. All our family, 'kith and kin,' are pretty well. The President elect has, I think, the hardest time, being over-worked; and, as we are now without any one, we shall be rejoiced to see you here. Pray, come. I shall write again when I send the 'red book' you request."With love to all, N. and I join; and I bid you adieu."From your friend,"Amos Lawrence."To Prof.Packard, Brunswick, Me."
"Boston, December 30, 1852, evening.
"My dear Friend: Your letter of Tuesday reached me just before my morning excursion to Longwood to see our loved one there. In reply to your first query, I answer, that Mr. E. Everett presented a design of Bunker Hill Monument, which was very classic, and was supported by Col. Perkins and Gen. Dearborn, I believe, and perhaps one or two more. Young Greenough (Horatio), then a student of Harvard College, sent in a plan with an essay, that manifested extraordinary talents, and was substantially adopted, although the column was amended by the talents, taste, and influence of Loammi Baldwin, one of our directors. The discussion of the model was very interesting; and, among the whole mass of plans, this of Mr. Everett and Mr. Baldwin, or, as I before said, a modification of Greenough's, were the only ones that were thought of. Mr. Everett, and those who favored his classic plan, were very cordial in their support of the plan of the monument as it is, very soon after its adoption. Mr. Ticknor was very active in support of the plan as adopted; and I have a strong impression that young Greenough's arguments were wholly just, and, abating some assertions which seemed a little strong for a mere college-lad, were true and unexceptionable. I write from memory, and not from overlooking the plans carefully since the time they were considered. Young Greenough I felt a deep interest in, and advanced money to his father to allow him to go abroad to study, which has been repaid since his father's death. Here I have an interesting story to tell you of this debt, which I wished to cancel, that the widow might receive the amount. Mr.Greenough was near his end, and deeply affected, but fully persuaded that, by the provisions of his will, his widow would soon have an ample income, and declined the offer. It has turned out better than he ever anticipated. The books shall go forward, as you requested. All our family, 'kith and kin,' are pretty well. The President elect has, I think, the hardest time, being over-worked; and, as we are now without any one, we shall be rejoiced to see you here. Pray, come. I shall write again when I send the 'red book' you request.
"With love to all, N. and I join; and I bid you adieu.
"From your friend,
"Amos Lawrence.
"To Prof.Packard, Brunswick, Me."
The above letter was folded, directed, and left upon his table, and doubtless contained the last words he ever wrote.
After the usual family devotions, he retired at about ten o'clock, and, before his attendant left the room, asked a few questions relating to the situation of a poor family which he had relieved a day or two before. Mrs. Lawrence had been in an adjoining room, and, on returning, found him lying quietly, and apparently engaged in silent prayer. She did not, therefore, disturb him, but retired for the night without speaking. In less than two hours, she was awakened by one of his usual attacks. Remedies were applied; but, no rallying symptoms appearing, the physician and family were summoned. All that medical skill could do was in vain; and, at a quarter past twelve, on the last day ofthe year, he quietly breathed his last, without having awakened to consciousness after his first sleep.
All his temporal affairs seemed to have been arranged in view of this event. The partnership with his brother, which had existed for nearly forty years, was dissolved in that way which he had resolved in former years should alone terminate it. From various prudential reasons, however, he had changed his opinion, and had decided to withdraw from all business relations, and accordingly furnished the advertisement, which was to appear on the next day in the public prints, announcing his withdrawal. Four days previous, he had executed a codicil to his will; and thus seemed to have settled his concerns with the closing year. The summons did not find him unprepared; for it was such as he had long expected, and had alluded to many times in his conversation, as well as in his letters to friends. The plans of each day were made with reference to such a call. Nor can we doubt that he was, in the highest sense, prepared to exchange what he sometimes was permitted to call "the heaven on earth" for that higher heaven where so many of his most cherished objects of earthly affection had preceded him. On the morning of his death, the editor found upon his table the following lines, which had been copied by him a few days previous, and which are the more interesting from being a part of the same hymn containing the lines repeatedby his wife upon her death-bed, thirty-three years before:
"Vital spark of heavenly flame,Quit, O, quit this mortal frame!Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,—O, the pain, the bliss, of dying!Cease, fond nature,—cease the strife,And let me languish into life.Hark!——————"
"Vital spark of heavenly flame,Quit, O, quit this mortal frame!Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,—O, the pain, the bliss, of dying!Cease, fond nature,—cease the strife,And let me languish into life.Hark!——————"
"Vital spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, O, quit this mortal frame!
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,—
O, the pain, the bliss, of dying!
Cease, fond nature,—cease the strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark!——————"
It would almost seem that a vision of the angel-messenger had been afforded, and that the sound of his distant footsteps had fallen upon his ear; for, with the unfinished line, the pen thus abruptly stops.
The funeral ceremonies were performed on Tuesday, the 4th of January. A prayer was first offered before the body was taken from the house, in the presence of the family and friends of the deceased, by the Rev. A. H. Vinton, D.D., Rector of St. Paul's Church. Public exercises in Brattle-street Church were then performed, in the presence of a crowded congregation, composed of the numerous friends and former associates of the deceased, clergymen of all denominations, and large numbers representing the various professions and trades of the community.
The religious services were conducted by three of Mr. Lawrence's most intimate and valued friends, representing three different denominations. These were the Rev. Dr. Lothrop, pastor of Brattle-street Church; the Rev. Dr. Hopkins, President of WilliamsCollege; and the Rev. Dr. Sharp, pastor of the Baptist Society in Charles-street. A beautiful and appropriate hymn was sung by the members of the Lawrence Association, from the Mather School, who surrounded the coffin, and, at the conclusion of the hymn, covered it with flowers. The body, followed by a large procession of mourning friends, was then conveyed to Mount Auburn, and deposited by the side of the loved ones who had preceded him, and under the shade of the "Old Oak," where may it rest until summoned to the presence of that Saviour whose example and precepts he so much loved on earth, and through whom alone he looked for happiness in heaven!
The correspondence in the preceding pages will, perhaps, give a clearer view of the character of Mr. Lawrence than anything which can be adduced by others. It may not be amiss, however, to quote what has been written by two of his most intimate friends, who had the most ample means of forming a just estimate of the man, and of the motives by which he was actuated. Dr. Lothrop, in his sermon preached on the Sunday after the funeral, says:
"I have intimated that Mr. Lawrence was intellectually great. I think he was so. By this, I do not mean he was a scholar or learned man, with a mind developed and disciplined by severe training, and enlarged and enriched by varied culture in the various departments of human thought and study. This, we know, he was not; although he was a man of considerable reading, who loved and appreciated the best books in English literature. But I mean that he was a man of great native vigor of intellect, whose mind was clear, strong, comprehensive in its grasp, penetrating, far-reaching in its observation, discerning and discriminating in its judgments, sagacious in its conclusions; a mind, which, if enriched by the requisite culture, and directed tosuch objects, would have made him eminent in any of the walks of literary or professional life, as, without that culture, it did make him eminent in those walks of practical, commercial life to which he did direct it. I mention this, not to dwell upon it, but simply because some who have known him little, and that only since disease had somewhat sapped his strength, may not do him justice in this respect. Those who remember his early manhood; who saw the strong, bold, and vigorous tread with which he walked forward to his rightful place among the merchants of the city; those who remember the sagacity of his enterprises, his quick and accurate discernment of character, and the commanding influence he exercised over others; the ease and rapidity with which he managed the concerns of a large commercial establishment, and decided and despatched the most important commercial negotiation,—these will be ready to admit that he was intellectually a strong man. To the last this vigor of intellect showed itself; if not always in his conversation, yet always in his letters, many of which will be found to have a force of thought, a fulness of wisdom and sound judgment, a terse, epigrammatic comprehensiveness of expression, of which no man, however distinguished by his learning and scholarship, would have need to be ashamed. The merchants of this city have ever been distinguished, I believe, for their integrity and benevolence. Nowhere is wealth acquired by a more honest and healthy activity; nowhere is a larger portion of it devoted to all the objects which a wise philanthropy, an extended patriotism, and a tender Christian sympathy, would foster and promote. Mr. Lawrence was conspicuous for these qualities. His integrity, I may venture to say, stands absolutely unimpeached, without spot or blemish. His history, as a merchant, from first to last, will bear the strictest scrutiny. Its minutest incidents, which have faded from the memory of thoseconcerned; its most secret acts, those of which no human eye could take knowledge,—might all be brought into the light before us; and like those, I trust, of many of his fraternity, they would seem only to illustrate the purity and integrity of his principles, the conscientious regard to truth and right and justice with which he conducted all the negotiations of business, and all the affairs of his life. He seemed ever to me to have a reverence for right, unalloyed, unfaltering, supreme; a moral perception and a moral sensibility, which kept him from deviating a hair's breadth from what he saw and felt to be his duty. It was this that constituted the strength of his character, and was one of the great secrets of his success. It was this that secured him, when a young man, the entire confidence, and an almost unlimited use of capital, of some of the wealthiest and best men of that day. * * * * *"The prominent feature in Mr. Lawrence's life and character, its inspiration and its guide, was religion; religious faith, affection, and hope. He loved God, and therefore he loved all God's creatures. He believed in Christ, as the promised Messiah and Saviour of the world; and therefore found peace and strength to his soul, amid all the perils, duties, and sorrows of life. * * * * *"There was nothing narrow or sectarian about Mr. Lawrence's religious opinions or feelings. He had a large, catholic spirit, which embraced within the arms of its love, and of its pecuniary bounty also when needed, all denominations of Christians; and it is to be hoped that the influence of his example and character has done something, and will continue to do more, to rebuke that bigotry which 'makes its own light the measure of another's illumination.' He took no pleasure in religious disputes or discussions. The practical in Christianity was what interested him.His great aim was to illustrate his faith by his daily walk, and authenticate his creed by a life of practical usefulness, constant benevolence, and cheerful piety. This aim he successfully accomplished, to the conviction of persons of all creeds and of every name. These will all give him a name in the church universal; will all admit that he was a noble specimen of a true Christian,—a loving and believing disciple, who had the very spirit of his Master. That spirit pervaded his daily life, and formed the moral atmosphere in which he lived and breathed. It quickened in him all holy, devout, and pious affections; gave him a profound reverence, a cheerful submission, a bright and glorious hope,—a hope that crowned every hour with gladness, robbed death of all terrors, and, inhissoul, brought heaven down to earth."
"I have intimated that Mr. Lawrence was intellectually great. I think he was so. By this, I do not mean he was a scholar or learned man, with a mind developed and disciplined by severe training, and enlarged and enriched by varied culture in the various departments of human thought and study. This, we know, he was not; although he was a man of considerable reading, who loved and appreciated the best books in English literature. But I mean that he was a man of great native vigor of intellect, whose mind was clear, strong, comprehensive in its grasp, penetrating, far-reaching in its observation, discerning and discriminating in its judgments, sagacious in its conclusions; a mind, which, if enriched by the requisite culture, and directed tosuch objects, would have made him eminent in any of the walks of literary or professional life, as, without that culture, it did make him eminent in those walks of practical, commercial life to which he did direct it. I mention this, not to dwell upon it, but simply because some who have known him little, and that only since disease had somewhat sapped his strength, may not do him justice in this respect. Those who remember his early manhood; who saw the strong, bold, and vigorous tread with which he walked forward to his rightful place among the merchants of the city; those who remember the sagacity of his enterprises, his quick and accurate discernment of character, and the commanding influence he exercised over others; the ease and rapidity with which he managed the concerns of a large commercial establishment, and decided and despatched the most important commercial negotiation,—these will be ready to admit that he was intellectually a strong man. To the last this vigor of intellect showed itself; if not always in his conversation, yet always in his letters, many of which will be found to have a force of thought, a fulness of wisdom and sound judgment, a terse, epigrammatic comprehensiveness of expression, of which no man, however distinguished by his learning and scholarship, would have need to be ashamed. The merchants of this city have ever been distinguished, I believe, for their integrity and benevolence. Nowhere is wealth acquired by a more honest and healthy activity; nowhere is a larger portion of it devoted to all the objects which a wise philanthropy, an extended patriotism, and a tender Christian sympathy, would foster and promote. Mr. Lawrence was conspicuous for these qualities. His integrity, I may venture to say, stands absolutely unimpeached, without spot or blemish. His history, as a merchant, from first to last, will bear the strictest scrutiny. Its minutest incidents, which have faded from the memory of thoseconcerned; its most secret acts, those of which no human eye could take knowledge,—might all be brought into the light before us; and like those, I trust, of many of his fraternity, they would seem only to illustrate the purity and integrity of his principles, the conscientious regard to truth and right and justice with which he conducted all the negotiations of business, and all the affairs of his life. He seemed ever to me to have a reverence for right, unalloyed, unfaltering, supreme; a moral perception and a moral sensibility, which kept him from deviating a hair's breadth from what he saw and felt to be his duty. It was this that constituted the strength of his character, and was one of the great secrets of his success. It was this that secured him, when a young man, the entire confidence, and an almost unlimited use of capital, of some of the wealthiest and best men of that day. * * * * *
"The prominent feature in Mr. Lawrence's life and character, its inspiration and its guide, was religion; religious faith, affection, and hope. He loved God, and therefore he loved all God's creatures. He believed in Christ, as the promised Messiah and Saviour of the world; and therefore found peace and strength to his soul, amid all the perils, duties, and sorrows of life. * * * * *
"There was nothing narrow or sectarian about Mr. Lawrence's religious opinions or feelings. He had a large, catholic spirit, which embraced within the arms of its love, and of its pecuniary bounty also when needed, all denominations of Christians; and it is to be hoped that the influence of his example and character has done something, and will continue to do more, to rebuke that bigotry which 'makes its own light the measure of another's illumination.' He took no pleasure in religious disputes or discussions. The practical in Christianity was what interested him.His great aim was to illustrate his faith by his daily walk, and authenticate his creed by a life of practical usefulness, constant benevolence, and cheerful piety. This aim he successfully accomplished, to the conviction of persons of all creeds and of every name. These will all give him a name in the church universal; will all admit that he was a noble specimen of a true Christian,—a loving and believing disciple, who had the very spirit of his Master. That spirit pervaded his daily life, and formed the moral atmosphere in which he lived and breathed. It quickened in him all holy, devout, and pious affections; gave him a profound reverence, a cheerful submission, a bright and glorious hope,—a hope that crowned every hour with gladness, robbed death of all terrors, and, inhissoul, brought heaven down to earth."
The following extracts are taken from the sermon, by President Hopkins, before the students of Williams College,—a sermon from which extracts have been already made:
"Having thus spoken of the use of his property by Mr. Lawrence, I observe that it was distinguished by the three characteristics which seem to me essential to the most perfect accomplishment of the ends of benevolence, and that in two of these he was preëminent."The first of these is, that he gave the money in his life-time. No man, I presume, has lived on this continent who has approximated him in the amount thus given; and in this course there are principles involved which deserve the careful attention of those who would act conscientiously, and with the highest wisdom. There may doubtless be good reasons why property destined for benevolent uses should be retained till death, and he is justlyhonored who then gives it a wise direction; but giving thus cannot furnish either the same test or discipline of character, or the same enjoyment, nor can it always accomplish the same ends. By his course, Mr. Lawrence put his money to its true work long before it could have done anything on the principle of accumulation; and to a work, too, to which it never could have been put in any other way. He made it sure, also, that that work should be done; and had the pleasure of seeing its results, and of knowing that through it he became the object of gratitude and affection. So doing, he showed that he stood completely above that tendency to accumulate which seems to form the chief end of most successful business men; and which, unless strongly counteracted, narrows itself into avarice, as old age comes on, almost with the certainty of a natural law. He did stand completely above this. No one could know him, without perceiving, that, in his giving, there was no remnant of grudging or reluctance; that he gave, not only freely, but with gladness, as if it were the appropriate action of a vital energy. And in so doing, and in witnessing the results, and in the atmosphere of sympathy and love thus created, there was a test and a discipline and an enjoyment, as well as a benefit to others, that could have been reached in no other way."The second peculiarity in the bounty of Mr. Lawrence, and in which he was preëminent, was the personal attention and sympathy which he bestowed with it. He had in his house a room where he kept stores of useful articles for distribution.Hemade up the bundle;hedirected the package. No detail was overlooked. He remembered the children, and designated for each the toy, the book, the elegant gift. He thought of every want, and was ingenious and happy in devising appropriate gifts. In this attention to the minutest token of regard, while, at the same time, he could give away thousands like a prince, I have known no onelike him. And, if the gift was appropriate, the manner of giving was not less so. There was in this the nicest appreciation of the feelings of others, and an intuitive perception of delicacy and propriety. These were the characteristics that gave him a hold upon the hearts of many, and made his death really felt as that of few other men in Boston could have been. In this, we find not a little of the utility, and much of the beauty, of charity. Even in his human life, man does not live by bread alone, but by sympathy and the play of reciprocal affection, and is often more touched by the kindness than by the relief. Only this sympathy it is that can establish the right relation between the rich and the poor; and the necessity for this can be superseded by no legal provision. This only can neutralize the repellent and aggressive tendencies of individuals and of classes, and make society a brotherhood, where the various inequalities shall work out moral good, and where acts of mutual kindness and helpfulness may pass and repass, as upon a golden chain, during a brief pilgrimage and scene of probation. It is a great and a good thing for a rich man to set the stream of charity in motion, to employ an agent, to send a check, to found an asylum, to endow a professorship, to open a fountain that shall flow for ages; but it is as different from sympathy with present suffering, and the relief of immediate want, as the building of a dam to turn a factory by one great sluiceway is from the irrigation of the fields. By Mr. Lawrence both were done."The third characteristic referred to of the bounty of Mr. Lawrence was, that he gave as a Christian man,—from a sense of religious obligation. Not that all his gifts had a religious aspect: he gave gifts of friendship and of affection. There was a large enclosure, where the affections walked foremost, and where, though they asked leave of Duty, they yet received no promptingfrom her. Whether he always drew this line rightly; whether, in the measure and direction of his charities, he was always right; whether so much of diffusion and individuality was wise,—it is not for me to say. Certain it is, that this form of charity holds a place in the church now less prominent relatively than it did in the early ages; and it may be that the proportions of Christian character, in portions of the church, need to be remodelled and recast in this respect. These are questions for each individual. It is sufficient to know that Mr. Lawrence looked the great doctrine of stewardship full in the face, and prayed earnestly over it, and responded to it practically, as few have done. * * * *"Undoubtedly, he was a man of great original powers. On this point, I have had but one opinion since knowing him. His mind was not speculative, discursive, metaphysical: but, in the high moral qualities; in decision and energy; in intuitive perception, and sound, practical judgment; in the sensibility and affections, and in the imagination,—he was great. Like all remarkable men who are not one-sided, he had large faculties, which found their harmony in their conflict, or rather in their balance. He was quick and tender in his feelings, yet firm; ardent in his affections, yet judicious; large in his gifts, yet discriminating; he was a keen observer, yet kind in his feelings; he had a fertile and shaping imagination: he built air-castles, and they vanished, and then he built others; but, when he decided to build anything on the ground, it was well-planned and promptly finished. His tastes were natural and simple, his habits plain, and his feelings always fresh, genuine, and youthful. Not even the smell of the fire of prosperity had passed on him. He shunned notoriety. He had a strong repugnance to all affectation and pretence and misplaced finery. A young man with rings on his fingers had small chance of favor or employment from him. He was impatient of talk whenaction was called for, and of all attempts to substitute talk for action. His command over the English language, especially in writing, indicated his power. Style is no mechanical product, that can be formed by rules, but is the outgrowth and image of the mind; and his had often great felicity and strength. When he wrote under the impulse of his feelings, he seemed to impregnate the very paper, and make it redolent of them. He loved nature; and, instead of becoming insensible to it as years came on, it seemed rather to open upon him like a new revelation. It was full of life and of teaching, and the charms of natural beauty were heightened by those associations which his quick imagination connected with its objects and scenes. After the death of two of his children, he says: 'Dear S. and R. speak in words without sound through every breeze, and in every flower, and in the fragrance of every perfume from the fields or the trees.' Years ago, after a long confinement, with little hope of recovery, he visited, when first able to get out, the Panorama of Jerusalem, then on exhibition in Boston, and remained there till the scene took full possession of his mind. Shortly after, on a fine day, he rode out to Brookline; and, as returning health threw over those hills a mantle of beauty that he had never seen before, they were immediately associated in his mind with the Panorama of Jerusalem, and then with the glories of the Jerusalem above. This association was indissoluble, and he would take his friends out to see his 'Mount Zion.' In 1850, he says, 'It really seems to me like the sides of Mount Zion, and that I can cling to them as I view them.' * * * * *"He was a deeply religious man. His trust in God, and his hope of salvation through Christ, were the basis of his character. He believed in the providence of God as concerned in all events, and as discriminating and retributive in this world. He felt thathe could trust God in his providence, where he could not see. 'The events of my life,' he writes, 'have been so far ordered in a way to make me feel that I know nothing at the time, except that a Father rules; and his discipline, however severe, is never more so than is required.' He believed in the Bible, and saw rightly its relation to all our blessings. 'What,' he writes again, 'should we do, if the Bible were not the foundation of our self-government? and what will become of us, when we wilfully and wickedly past it behind us?' He read the Bible morning and evening in his family, and prayed with them; and it may aid those who are acquainted with the prayers of Thornton, in forming a conception of his religious character, to know that he used them. Family religion he esteemed as above all price; and, when he first learned that a beloved relative had established family worship, he wept for joy. He distributed religious books very extensively, chiefly those of the American Tract Society, and of the American Sunday School Union. * * * * Of creeds held in the understanding, but not influencing the life, he thought little; and the tendency of his mind was to practical rather than doctrinal views. He believed in our Lord Jesus Christ as a Saviour, and trusted in him for salvation. He was a man of habitual prayer. The last time I visited him, he said to me, that he had been restless during the night, and that the only way in which he could 'get quieted was by getting near to God,' and that he went to sleep repeating a prayer. During the same visit, he spoke strongly of his readiness, and even of his desire, to depart. He viewed death with tranquillity and hope and preparation, for it was habitual with him. What need I say more? At midnight the summons came, and his work was done."
"Having thus spoken of the use of his property by Mr. Lawrence, I observe that it was distinguished by the three characteristics which seem to me essential to the most perfect accomplishment of the ends of benevolence, and that in two of these he was preëminent.
"The first of these is, that he gave the money in his life-time. No man, I presume, has lived on this continent who has approximated him in the amount thus given; and in this course there are principles involved which deserve the careful attention of those who would act conscientiously, and with the highest wisdom. There may doubtless be good reasons why property destined for benevolent uses should be retained till death, and he is justlyhonored who then gives it a wise direction; but giving thus cannot furnish either the same test or discipline of character, or the same enjoyment, nor can it always accomplish the same ends. By his course, Mr. Lawrence put his money to its true work long before it could have done anything on the principle of accumulation; and to a work, too, to which it never could have been put in any other way. He made it sure, also, that that work should be done; and had the pleasure of seeing its results, and of knowing that through it he became the object of gratitude and affection. So doing, he showed that he stood completely above that tendency to accumulate which seems to form the chief end of most successful business men; and which, unless strongly counteracted, narrows itself into avarice, as old age comes on, almost with the certainty of a natural law. He did stand completely above this. No one could know him, without perceiving, that, in his giving, there was no remnant of grudging or reluctance; that he gave, not only freely, but with gladness, as if it were the appropriate action of a vital energy. And in so doing, and in witnessing the results, and in the atmosphere of sympathy and love thus created, there was a test and a discipline and an enjoyment, as well as a benefit to others, that could have been reached in no other way.
"The second peculiarity in the bounty of Mr. Lawrence, and in which he was preëminent, was the personal attention and sympathy which he bestowed with it. He had in his house a room where he kept stores of useful articles for distribution.Hemade up the bundle;hedirected the package. No detail was overlooked. He remembered the children, and designated for each the toy, the book, the elegant gift. He thought of every want, and was ingenious and happy in devising appropriate gifts. In this attention to the minutest token of regard, while, at the same time, he could give away thousands like a prince, I have known no onelike him. And, if the gift was appropriate, the manner of giving was not less so. There was in this the nicest appreciation of the feelings of others, and an intuitive perception of delicacy and propriety. These were the characteristics that gave him a hold upon the hearts of many, and made his death really felt as that of few other men in Boston could have been. In this, we find not a little of the utility, and much of the beauty, of charity. Even in his human life, man does not live by bread alone, but by sympathy and the play of reciprocal affection, and is often more touched by the kindness than by the relief. Only this sympathy it is that can establish the right relation between the rich and the poor; and the necessity for this can be superseded by no legal provision. This only can neutralize the repellent and aggressive tendencies of individuals and of classes, and make society a brotherhood, where the various inequalities shall work out moral good, and where acts of mutual kindness and helpfulness may pass and repass, as upon a golden chain, during a brief pilgrimage and scene of probation. It is a great and a good thing for a rich man to set the stream of charity in motion, to employ an agent, to send a check, to found an asylum, to endow a professorship, to open a fountain that shall flow for ages; but it is as different from sympathy with present suffering, and the relief of immediate want, as the building of a dam to turn a factory by one great sluiceway is from the irrigation of the fields. By Mr. Lawrence both were done.
"The third characteristic referred to of the bounty of Mr. Lawrence was, that he gave as a Christian man,—from a sense of religious obligation. Not that all his gifts had a religious aspect: he gave gifts of friendship and of affection. There was a large enclosure, where the affections walked foremost, and where, though they asked leave of Duty, they yet received no promptingfrom her. Whether he always drew this line rightly; whether, in the measure and direction of his charities, he was always right; whether so much of diffusion and individuality was wise,—it is not for me to say. Certain it is, that this form of charity holds a place in the church now less prominent relatively than it did in the early ages; and it may be that the proportions of Christian character, in portions of the church, need to be remodelled and recast in this respect. These are questions for each individual. It is sufficient to know that Mr. Lawrence looked the great doctrine of stewardship full in the face, and prayed earnestly over it, and responded to it practically, as few have done. * * * *
"Undoubtedly, he was a man of great original powers. On this point, I have had but one opinion since knowing him. His mind was not speculative, discursive, metaphysical: but, in the high moral qualities; in decision and energy; in intuitive perception, and sound, practical judgment; in the sensibility and affections, and in the imagination,—he was great. Like all remarkable men who are not one-sided, he had large faculties, which found their harmony in their conflict, or rather in their balance. He was quick and tender in his feelings, yet firm; ardent in his affections, yet judicious; large in his gifts, yet discriminating; he was a keen observer, yet kind in his feelings; he had a fertile and shaping imagination: he built air-castles, and they vanished, and then he built others; but, when he decided to build anything on the ground, it was well-planned and promptly finished. His tastes were natural and simple, his habits plain, and his feelings always fresh, genuine, and youthful. Not even the smell of the fire of prosperity had passed on him. He shunned notoriety. He had a strong repugnance to all affectation and pretence and misplaced finery. A young man with rings on his fingers had small chance of favor or employment from him. He was impatient of talk whenaction was called for, and of all attempts to substitute talk for action. His command over the English language, especially in writing, indicated his power. Style is no mechanical product, that can be formed by rules, but is the outgrowth and image of the mind; and his had often great felicity and strength. When he wrote under the impulse of his feelings, he seemed to impregnate the very paper, and make it redolent of them. He loved nature; and, instead of becoming insensible to it as years came on, it seemed rather to open upon him like a new revelation. It was full of life and of teaching, and the charms of natural beauty were heightened by those associations which his quick imagination connected with its objects and scenes. After the death of two of his children, he says: 'Dear S. and R. speak in words without sound through every breeze, and in every flower, and in the fragrance of every perfume from the fields or the trees.' Years ago, after a long confinement, with little hope of recovery, he visited, when first able to get out, the Panorama of Jerusalem, then on exhibition in Boston, and remained there till the scene took full possession of his mind. Shortly after, on a fine day, he rode out to Brookline; and, as returning health threw over those hills a mantle of beauty that he had never seen before, they were immediately associated in his mind with the Panorama of Jerusalem, and then with the glories of the Jerusalem above. This association was indissoluble, and he would take his friends out to see his 'Mount Zion.' In 1850, he says, 'It really seems to me like the sides of Mount Zion, and that I can cling to them as I view them.' * * * * *
"He was a deeply religious man. His trust in God, and his hope of salvation through Christ, were the basis of his character. He believed in the providence of God as concerned in all events, and as discriminating and retributive in this world. He felt thathe could trust God in his providence, where he could not see. 'The events of my life,' he writes, 'have been so far ordered in a way to make me feel that I know nothing at the time, except that a Father rules; and his discipline, however severe, is never more so than is required.' He believed in the Bible, and saw rightly its relation to all our blessings. 'What,' he writes again, 'should we do, if the Bible were not the foundation of our self-government? and what will become of us, when we wilfully and wickedly past it behind us?' He read the Bible morning and evening in his family, and prayed with them; and it may aid those who are acquainted with the prayers of Thornton, in forming a conception of his religious character, to know that he used them. Family religion he esteemed as above all price; and, when he first learned that a beloved relative had established family worship, he wept for joy. He distributed religious books very extensively, chiefly those of the American Tract Society, and of the American Sunday School Union. * * * * Of creeds held in the understanding, but not influencing the life, he thought little; and the tendency of his mind was to practical rather than doctrinal views. He believed in our Lord Jesus Christ as a Saviour, and trusted in him for salvation. He was a man of habitual prayer. The last time I visited him, he said to me, that he had been restless during the night, and that the only way in which he could 'get quieted was by getting near to God,' and that he went to sleep repeating a prayer. During the same visit, he spoke strongly of his readiness, and even of his desire, to depart. He viewed death with tranquillity and hope and preparation, for it was habitual with him. What need I say more? At midnight the summons came, and his work was done."
Mr. Lawrence was of about the medium height, and, until reduced by sickness, was erect in person, and active and vigorous in his movements. The expression of his countenance was mild and cheerful, partaking of that benevolent cast which one would have been led to expect from the tenor of his daily life. His affections were warm, and his feelings quick and ardent. His temperament was of a nervous character, thereby inclining him to impatience. With this defect he had to struggle much in early life. It is related of him, that he once, by some hasty reply, wounded the sensitive feelings of a cherished sister, who afterwards died; and so much did he regret his impatience, that he made a resolution to persevere in his efforts until he had conquered the fault. A great change was soon remarked in him in this respect; so much so, that a relative, who passed several months under his roof during his early married life, was surprised at not seeing the least evidence of this tendency. During his latter years, when weakened by disease, and when his nervous system had been shattered by his violent and peculiar attacks ofillness, he had more difficulty in controlling his feelings and expressions. On the second, sober thought, however, no one could have been more ready to confess the fault, and to make such reparation as the case demanded.
His daily actions were guided by the most exalted sense of right and wrong; and in his strict sense of justice, Aristides himself could not surpass him. He was a living example of a successful merchant, who had, from the earliest period of his business career, risen above all artifice, and had never been willing to turn to his own advantage the ignorance or misfortune of others. He demonstrated in his own case the possibility of success, while practising the highest standard of moral obligation. He had ever commanded the confidence of those around him. When an apprentice in his native town, many of his customers relied upon his judgment rather than their own. He never deceived them, and early adopted as his rule of life, to do to others as he would have them do to him. Thus he stood high in the confidence, as well as in the estimation, of his neighbors. What "Amos" said was right, and no one could gainsay.
If any one thing was, more than another, the means of promoting his success in life, we should say it was this faculty of commanding the confidence of others. To this can be traced the prosperity of his earliest business years; and, as his sphere enlarged, and his financialoperations were extended, the same feeling of confidence gave him the unlimited command of the means of some of the wealthiest capitalists in New England, who, through the most critical seasons in the mercantile world, placed implicit confidence in the house of which he was the senior partner.
Mr. Lawrence had no fluency in conversation. His mind was ever active; but the volume of thought found no corresponding channel of utterance. The very number of ideas seemed to impede the power of expression.
Had his talents been devoted to literary or scientific pursuits, he would have earned distinction by his pen. His mind was not of that logical cast, which, from patient reasoning, can deduce effects from a succession of causes; but arrived at its conclusions by a kind of intuition, somewhat like those rare instances of mathematicians who solve a difficult problem, and yet can give no account of the mental process by which the solution has been reached.
As a husband and father, he was ever kind and affectionate. He was domestic in his tastes, and found his greatest enjoyment in his home. Here he was eminently favored, and ever found the warmest sympathy, and that considerate care and kindness so necessary in latter years to his feeble health. No one who has read the preceding correspondence can have failed to see the interest which he ever took in all that concerned the welfare of those whom Providence had committedto his keeping. His letters to his children would fill many volumes, and are in themselves an enduring testimony to his fidelity and watchful care during a long series of years. His motto was, "Line upon line, precept upon precept;" and thus his constant aim was to impress upon their minds the great principles of religion and morality. No parent could be more indulgent when such indulgence was consistent with the true welfare of his children, or more resolute in denying what was hurtful. Their present happiness was a great object; but his desire for their ultimate good was still greater.
As a friend, he was most faithful and sympathizing; and many now living can testify to the value of his friendship. Few, perhaps, have had more friends. Their affection for him was not founded so much upon gratitude for his constantly recurring favors, as upon the warm sympathy and affection with which his heart, was filled toward them and theirs.
As a citizen, his views were comprehensive, and were bounded by no lines of sectional or party feeling. He was most deeply interested in all that concerned the honor and prosperity of his country, and keenly sensitive to the injury inflicted by such measures as tended to depreciate her standing in the estimation of other nations, or of good men among her own citizens. He was a true patriot, and had adopted the views and aims of the best men of the republic in former days, while he viewed with distrust many of the popular movementsof more modern times. From his father he had inherited the most profound veneration for Gen. Washington, and faith in his public policy; while the political principles of Alexander Hamilton and John Jay were those alone by which he thought the permanent happiness and prosperity of the country could be secured.
As a Christian, he endeavored to walk in the footsteps of his Master. He had no taste for the discussion of those minor points of doctrine upon which good men so often differ, but embraced with all his heart the revealed truths of the Gospel, which the great body of Christians can unite in upholding. He sought those fields of labor where all can meet, rather than those which are hedged in by the dividing lines of sect and party.
He reverenced the Bible, and, from the first chapter of the Old Testament to the last chapter of the New, received it as the inspired Word of God. This was his sheet-anchor; and to doubt was, in his view, to leave a safe and peaceful haven, to embark upon an unknown ocean of danger and uncertainty.
Religion was for him a practical thing for every-day use, consisting not so much in frames and emotions as in the steady and persevering performance of the daily duties of life. His view of duty did not limit him to the common obligations of morality, but included the highest sense of duty towards God; or, as he has expressed it in one of his early letters, "to be a moralman merely, is not to be a Christian." He was an active helper in all that tended to promote the cause of Christianity among nations, as well as to promote spiritual progress among individuals. The Christian banner, in his view, covered many denominations; and, with this belief, his charities were directed to the building up of institutions under the influence of the various sects differing from that under which he himself was classed.
What has been said of John Thornton might be applied to him:
"He was a merchant renowned in his generation for a munificence more than princely. He was one of those rare men in whom the desire to relieve distress assumes the form of a master-passion. Conscious of no aims but such as may invite the scrutiny of God and man, he pursued them after his own fearless fashion, yielding to every honest impulse, choosing his associates in scorn of mere worldly precepts, and worshipping with any fellow-Christian whose heart beat in unison with his own, however inharmonious might be some of the articles of their respective creeds. His benevolence was as unsectarian as his general habits; and he stood ready to assist a beneficent design in every party, but would be the creature of none. He not only gave largely, but he gave wisely. He kept a regular account (not for ostentation, or the gratification of vanity, but for method) of every pound he gave. With him, his givings were made a matter of business, as Cowper says, in an 'Elegy' he wrote upon him,—'Thou hadst an industry in doing good,Restless as his who toils and sweats for food'"
"He was a merchant renowned in his generation for a munificence more than princely. He was one of those rare men in whom the desire to relieve distress assumes the form of a master-passion. Conscious of no aims but such as may invite the scrutiny of God and man, he pursued them after his own fearless fashion, yielding to every honest impulse, choosing his associates in scorn of mere worldly precepts, and worshipping with any fellow-Christian whose heart beat in unison with his own, however inharmonious might be some of the articles of their respective creeds. His benevolence was as unsectarian as his general habits; and he stood ready to assist a beneficent design in every party, but would be the creature of none. He not only gave largely, but he gave wisely. He kept a regular account (not for ostentation, or the gratification of vanity, but for method) of every pound he gave. With him, his givings were made a matter of business, as Cowper says, in an 'Elegy' he wrote upon him,—
'Thou hadst an industry in doing good,Restless as his who toils and sweats for food'"
'Thou hadst an industry in doing good,Restless as his who toils and sweats for food'"
'Thou hadst an industry in doing good,
Restless as his who toils and sweats for food'"
Those who were not acquainted with Mr. Lawrence might suppose that his long continued ill-health, extending through a period of twenty-one years, permitted the formation of a character which few could attain who should not be called upon to pass through a similar discipline.
That the isolation from the business-world, and freedom from the cares and struggles of active life, to which most men are subjected, tended to give him a more just and dispassionate view of his relations to God, as well as to his fellow-men, cannot be doubted.
The peculiar elevation and spirituality of mind which he acquired must not, however, be looked upon as the hot-bed growth of the invalid's chamber; but rather as the gradual development of a character whose germ was planted far back in the years of childhood. The principles of religion and truth which were inculcated by a faithful and sensible mother upon the heart of the child, shone forth in all the events which marked the life of the future man.
Of Mr. Lawrence's religious opinions respecting those doctrinal points upon which Christians are divided, the writer will not speak; though, from repeated conversations with his father on the subject, in the hours of health as well as of sickness, he might consistently do so. Rather than make assertions which might lead to discussion, it is more grateful to his feelingsto leave the subject to the unbiassed judgment of those who shall read the preceding correspondence.
Let it rather be the aim of those who loved and honored him in life to imitate his example, now that he is dead. They may rejoice that they were permitted to claim as a relative, and to have daily intercourse with, one who has exhibited, in such an abundant degree, those fruits which are the truest and best evidence of a genuine faith.
In completing this volume, the editor feels that he has fulfilled a sacred trust; and his great regret is, that the work could not have been undertaken by some one more fitted, by his qualifications and past experience, to do justice to the subject. For reasons given in the Preface, this could not be; and it is, therefore, with great diffidence that these pages are submitted as a memorial of one whose life and character deserve more than a passing record.
If, however, what has been done shall be the means of directing the attention of those for whom the volume has been prepared to the consideration of the precepts here recorded; and, above all, if those precepts shall be the means of influencing them for good in their future course in life,—the effort will not have been in vain.