CHAPTER XXIII.

LETTER FROM DR. SHARP.--ILLNESS AND DEATH OF

SON.--LETTERS.--AFFLICTIONS.

The Rev. Dr. Sharp, of the Baptist denomination, who has been

previously alluded to as a valued friend of Mr. Lawrence, had made a

visit to England, the land of his birth, after an absence of forty

years, and thus addresses him from Leeds, July 1:

"I esteem it one of the happy events of my life that I have been

made personally acquainted with you. Not certainly because of

your kind benefactions to me and mine, but because I have enjoyed

your conversation, and have been delighted with those

manifestations of principle and conduct, which, let them grow

under what Christian culture they may, I know how to honor, to

knowledge, and to love."

The same gentleman writes, shortly afterwards:

"I thank you for the kind manner in which you express yourself in

regard to my occasional sermons. I never had any taste for

controversy, nor for theological speculation; although, as a

Christian watchman, I have kept myself informed of the religious

opinions that have been, and that are. I thank you, as does my

dear wife, for your thoughtful concern of the sacred spot so

dear both to my recollections and hopes. There, when life's

journey is ended, I hope to rest by the side of those whose

company and unfailing affection have gladdened so many of my

years; and it has given me a subdued pleasure, when I have

thought that my own bed of death would be so near that of the

kind and gentle-hearted friend who provided me with mine. May all

who shall repose near that interesting spot be imbued with a pure

and loving Christian spirit, that, when the trumpet shall sound,

and the dead shall arise, we may all rise together in glorious

forms, to be forever with the Lord!"

(TO ONE OF HIS PARTNERS.)

"Tremont-street, September 30, 1845.

"DEAR MR. PARKER: I am buoyant and afloat again, and able to

enjoy the good things you are so liberal in providing. The

widow's box of ointment was broken before its value was learned.

The sermon is significant and practical. I would be thankful to

improve under its teaching. Will you send me two thousand dollars

this morning in Mr. Sharp's clean money? thus allowing me the

opportunity of expressing my gratitude to a merciful Father

above, that he still permits me to administer the good things he

has intrusted to me. Dear R. had a quiet night, although he did

not sleep much during the first part. This experience is, indeed,

the most trying; but I hope to be able to say truly, 'Thy will be

done.'

Your friend,

"A. L.

"C. H. PARKER, Esq."

The trying experience alluded to was the serious illness of his

youngest son, Robert, then a member of Harvard College. He had for

some time been troubled by a cough, which had now become alarming,

and excited the worst apprehensions of his friends. In relation to

this sickness, he writes several letters to his son, from which the

following extracts are made:

"October 15

"We are in great anguish of spirit on account of dear R. We are

getting reconciled to parting with the dear child, and to feel

that he has done for us what any parents might feel thankful for,

by living a good life, and in nineteen years giving us no cause

to wish any one of them blotted out. If now called away, he will

have lived a long life in a few years, and will be spared the

trials and sufferings that flesh is heir to, and will be gathered

like early fruit, before the blight or frost or mildew has marked

it."

"October 29.

"R. remains gradually failing with consumption, but without much

suffering, and perfectly aware of his situation. He never

appeared so lovely as he has on his sick bed; so that his happy

spirit and resignation, without a complaint or a wish that

anything had been done differently, keep us as happy as we can be

under such a weight of apprehension that we may so soon part with

him. He asked me yesterday what I should write to you about him.

I told him I should say that he was very sick, and might never be

any better; but that he might also be better if the great

Physician saw best, as it is only for him to speak, and the

disease would be cured. If he were taken before me, I told him,

it would be, I hoped, to welcome me to the company of the loved

ones of our kindred and friends who have gone before, and to the

society of angels and just men made perfect, who compose the

great congregation that are gathered there from all the world,

that God's love, through Christ, has redeemed. God so loved the

world that he gave his only-begotten Son to redeem it from sin;

and his teachings should not be lost on us, while we have power

to profit by them. In this spirit, we talked of the good men

whose writings have an influence in helping on this good work;

and especially we talked of Dr. Doddridge, and his 'Rise and

Progress.'

"P. M.--I have been with M. to Brookline since writing the above.

The falling leaves teach a beautiful lesson. The green leaf, the

rose, the cypress, now enclosed to you, and all from your

grounds, are instructive. These were cut within the last two

hours."

"November 1.

"Dear R. had a trying day yesterday, and we thought might not

continue through the night. He is still alive, and may continue

some time; was conscious and clear in his mind after he revived

yesterday; feels ready and willing and hoping to be with his

Saviour."

"November 14.

"We toil for treasure through our years of active labor, and,

when acquired, are anxious to have it well secured against the

time when we or our children may have need of it; and we feel

entire confidence in this security. We allow the common flurries

of the world to pass by without disturbing our quiet or comfort

essentially. What treasure of a temporal character is comparable

with a child who is everything a Christian parent could desire,

and who is just coming into mature life universally respected and

beloved, and who is taken before any cloud or spot has touched

him, and who has left bright and clear marks upon those who have

come within his sphere of influence? Such was R. The green earth

of Mount Auburn covers his mortal remains; the heavens above

have his immortal; he was a ripe child of God, and I therefore

feel that blessed assurance of entire security which adds another

charm to that blessed company to which I hope, through mercy, to

be admitted in our Father's own good time. This early death of

our beloved youngest comes upon us as an additional lesson,

necessary, without doubt, to prepare us for our last summons; and

the reasons which now seem mysterious will be fully understood,

and will show us that our good required this safe keeping of this

treasure, so liable to be made our idol. R. had passed the

dangerous period of his college life without blemish, and was

only absent from prayers three times (which were for good cause),

and had a settled purpose, from the beginning of his college

life, so to conduct in all respects as to give his parents no

cause for anxiety; and, for the last year, I have felt perfectly

easy in regard to him. We have visited his grave to-day. The

teachings there are such as speak to the heart with an eloquence

that language cannot. Dear S. and R.! She the only daughter, he

the only son of his mother! and both placed there since you

left!"

"November 22.

"President H., in a letter a few days before I wrote to you, had

this sentiment: 'The old oak, shorn of its green branches, is

more liable to decay.' Applying this to the old oak fronting the

graves of those loved ones who have passed on, the outspread

branches of which make the spot more lovely, I was more deeply

impressed than mere words could have impressed me. A few months

after the death of S., a violent storm tore off a main limb of

the old oak about midway between the ground and the top, in such

way as to mar its beauty, and endanger its life. The limb fell

upon the graves, but avoided the injury to the monuments which

might have been expected. Since then, I noticed that some of the

lower limbs cast a sort of blight or mildew upon the pure white

of your mother's monument, and they required dressing. I desired

the 'master' to do this, and also to come and heal the wound

occasioned by the loss of this main limb on that side of the

tree. The trimming out was done at once; the other was left

undone until the request was renewed. On my visit there last

week, I discovered, for the first time, that the wound had been

healed, and the body of the tree appeared smooth, and of its

natural color, and its health such as to give good hope that its

other branches will spread out their shade more copiously than

before. What a lesson was here! The appeal was to the heart; and,

in my whole life, I remember none more eloquent. To-day I have

been to Mount Auburn again; and the spot seems to be none other

than the gate of heaven.'"

"December 22.

"Twenty-five years ago this morning, I came home from Plymouth,

where I had spent the night previous, and heard Webster's great

address. He has never done anything to surpass it; and it now is

a model and a text for the youth of our country. The people who

then were present are principally taken hence; and the

consideration of how the time allowed has been spent, and how it

now fares with us, is of deep interest. God in mercy grant us to

act our part so as to meet his approval, when called to answer

for the trust in our hands! I have thought of the emblem of the

'old oak,' till it has assumed a beauty almost beyond anything in

nature; and, if I live to see the fresh leaves of spring

spreading their covering over the head of the stranger or the

friend who may stop under its shade, I will have a sketch of the

spot painted, if the right person can be found. There is in the

spot and scene a touching eloquence that language can scarcely

communicate. The dear child's expressive look, and motion of his

finger, when he said 'I am going up,' will abide with me while I

live. The dealings of a Father with me have been marked, but

ofttimes mysterious for a season. Now many things are clear; and

all others will be, I trust, when I am fitted to know them."

(TO HIS GRANDSON.)

"BOSTON, December 30, 1845.

"MY DEAR F.: Your charming letter of 28th November reached me by

last steamer, and showed, in a practical way, how important the

lessons of childhood are to the proper performance of the duties

of manhood. It carried me back to the time when my own mother

taught me, and, from that period, forward through the early

lessons inculcated upon your father, and especially to the time

when he began to write me letters, which I always encouraged him

in, and thus formed a habit which has been the best security for

our home affections that can be devised when separated from those

most dear to us. If the prayers and labors of your ancestors are

answered by your good progress and good conduct in the use of the

privileges you enjoy, you will come forth a better and more

useful man than any of the generations preceding; for you enjoy

advantages that none of us have enjoyed. My heart beats quicker

and stronger whenever I think of you; and my prayers ascend for

you at all hours, and through every scene connecting us. Last

Saturday, I had the first sleigh-ride of the season. The day was

beautiful; and there was just snow enough to make the sleigh run

smoothly. I visited Mount Auburn; and the day and place, the 'old

oak' standing in front of our graves leafless and apparently

almost lifeless, spoke to me a language as intelligible as if

utterance had been given in sounds. I thought of you, dear F., as

my eldest grandson, and in a manner the representative of the

family to future times, and asked myself whether I was doing all

I ought to make you feel the force of your trusts. There lie the

mortal parts of your dear aunt and uncle, both placed there since

you left home; and the spirits of both, I trust, are now

rejoicing with the multitude of the beloved ones, whose work here

is well done, and whom the Saviour has bid to 'come unto him,'

and through whom they hoped to be accepted. Dear R. seems to call

to us to 'come up;' and, whether I ever see you again or not, I

pray you never to forget that he was such an uncle as you might

well feel anxious to copy in your conduct to your parents; for he

had a settled principle to do nothing to cause his parents

anxiety. So, if you see your young companions indulging in any

evil practices which may lead to bad habits, avoid them; for

prevention is better than remedy. When you stand near the 'old

oak,' whether its branches are green with shady leaves, or dry

from natural decay, let it speak to your conscience, 'Come up,'

and receive the reward promised to the faithful.

"Ever your affectionate grandfather,

A. L."

The year 1845 closed with many sad recollections; and nearly every

letter written at this period dwells upon the mournful events which

had marked its course. In one letter, he says, "Death has cut right

and left in my family." In a little more than twelve months, ten of

his own immediate family and near connections were removed, and most

of them when least expected. Although bowed down, and penetrated with

grief at each successive blow, there was a deep-seated principle in

Mr. Lawrence's heart, which made him rise above them all, and receive

each call in that spirit of submission which the Christian faith alone

can give. His own sorrows seemed only to augment his sympathy for the

woes of others, and to excite him to renewed efforts in the great

cause of charity and truth, to which he had consecrated every talent

he possessed. In this spirit he makes an entry in his memorandum-book

on the first day of the opening year.

Extracts from the Diary and Correspondence of the Late Amos Lawrence; with a brief account of some incidents of his life · 第 23 / 40 章