[CHAPTER XV.]
JOURNEY TO NEW HAMPSHIRE.—LETTERS.—RESIGNS OFFICE OF TRUSTEE AT HOSPITAL.—LETTERS.
A few days after the date of the preceding letter, a change was thought desirable for the improvement of Mr. Lawrence's health; and he accordingly, with Mrs. L., went to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and remained a week with his friend and brother-in-law, the late Hon. Jeremiah Mason. From thence he proceeded to visit friends in Amherst, New Hampshire, where he was attacked by a severe rheumatic fever, which confined him for several weeks; and it was with great difficulty that he succeeded in reaching home about the 20th of September, after an absence of nearly two months. On the 27th of September, he writes to his son:
"It is only within a few days that I have been able to be removed to my own house. I am now able to walk my chamber, and sit up half the day; and, by the best care in the world, I have a fair hope of again enjoying so much health as to feel that I may yet be of some use in the world. My bodily sufferings have been great during this last sickness; but my mind in general has been quiet. I seem to want nothing which this world can give to make me an enviably happy man, but your presence and a return of my health; but these last are wisely withheld. We are apt, in the abundance of the gift, to lose the recollection whence it came, and feel that by our own power we can go forward. Happy for us that we are thus made to feel that all we have is from God; this recurrence to the Source of all our blessings makes us better men. I do not expect to be able to leave the house before the next spring; and, in the mean time, must be subject to the casualties incident to a person in my situation."
On October 29, Mr. Lawrence, in a letter to the same son, expresses his gratitude for the enjoyment of life, "even in a sick chamber, as mine must be termed."
"I receive my friends here, and once only have walked abroad for a few minutes. I drive in a carriage every pleasant day, and I can truly say that my days pass in the full enjoyment of more than the average of comfort. 'My mind is as easy as it ever is, and as active as is safe for the body. I employed myself yesterday in looking over your letters since you left home three years ago, and was reminded by them that the fourth year of your absence has just commenced. Although a brief space since it is passed, an equal time, if we look forward, appears to be far distant. The question you will naturally ask yourself is, How has the time been spent? and from the answer you may gather much instruction for the future. If you have made the best use of this period, happy is it for you, as the habit of the useful application of your time will make its continuance more natural and easy. If you have misused and abused your opportunities, there is not a moment to be lost in retracing your steps, and making good, by future effort, what has been lost by want of it. In short, we can none of us know that a future will be allowed us to amend and to correct our previous misdoings and omissions; and it is not less the part of wisdom than of duty to be always up and doing, that whenever our Master comes we may be ready. I never was made so sensible before of the power of the mind over the body. It is a matter of surprise to some of my friends, who have known my constant habits of business for a quarter of a century, that I can find so much comfort and quiet in the confinement of my house, when I feel so well, and there are so many calls for my labors abroad. I hope to pursue such a discreet course as shall allow me to come forth in the spring with my poor frame so far renovated and restored as to enable me to take my place among the active laborers of the day, and do what little I may for the advancement and well-being of my generation. If, however, I should, by any accident or exposure, be again brought to a bed of pain and suffering, may God grant me a patient and submissive temper to bear whatever may be put upon me, with a full conviction that such chastisements will tend to my good, if I make a right use of them!"
The first of January, 1832, found Mr. Lawrence confined to his sick room, and unable, from bodily weakness, to drive out in the open air, as he had hitherto done. He writes to his son:
"I am reminded, by the new year, that another portion of time has passed, by which we are accustomed to measure in prospect the space that is allotted us here; and the reflections at the close of the old and the commencement of the new year are calculated, if we do not cheat ourselves, to make us better than we otherwise should be. I am enjoying myself highly under the close confinement of two parlor chambers, from which I have only travelled into the entry since November. I have lived pretty much as other prisoners of a different character live, as regards food; namely, on bread and water, or bread and coffee or cocoa. I have come to the conclusion that the man who lives on bread and water, if he have enough, is the genuine epicure, according to the original and true meaning. I am favored with the visits of more pretty and interesting ladies than any layman in the city, I believe. My rooms are quite a resort; and, old fellow as I am, I have the vanity to suppose I render myself quite agreeable to them."
On the same day, in a letter of sympathy to his sister-in-law, whose invalid son was about to leave for a long voyage, he writes:
"While my family are all absent at church, I am sitting alone, my mind going back to the beginning of the year just ended and forward through that just commenced; and, in view of both periods, I can see nothing but the unbounded goodness of our heavenly Father and best friend, in all that has been taken from me, as well as in all that is left to me. I can say, with sincerity, that I never have had so much to call forth my warmest and deepest gratitude for favors bestowed as at the present time. Among my sources of happiness is a settled conviction that, in chastening his children, God desires their good; and if his chastisements are thus viewed, we cannot receive them in any other light than as manifestations of his fatherly care and kindness. Although, at times, 'clouds and darkness are round about him,' we do certainly know, by the words of inspiration, 'that justice and judgment are the habitation of his throne,' and goodness and mercy the attributes of his character; and if it should please him further to try me with disease during the period of my probation, my prayer to him is that my mind and heart may remain stayed on him, and that I may practically illustrate those words of our blessed Saviour, 'Not my will, but thine be done.' It is quite possible that there may still be a few years of probation for me; but it is more probable that I may not remain here to the close of the present; but whether I remain longer or shorter is of little consequence, compared with the preparation or the dress in which I may be found when called away. It has seemed to me that the habit of mind we cultivate here will be that which will abide with us hereafter; and that heaven is as truly begun here as that the affections which make us love our friends grow stronger by use, and improve by cultivation. We are here in our infancy; the feelings cherished at this period grow with our growth, and, in the progress of time, will fit us for the highest enjoyments of the most distant future. I say, then, what sources of happiness are open to us, not only for the present, but for all future time! These hasty remarks are elicited on occasion of the separation so soon to take place from your son. I know full well the anxieties of a parent on such an occasion.
"His health cannot, of course, be certainly predicted; but you will have the comfort of knowing that you have done everything that the fondest parents could do in this particular, whatever effect the absence may have upon him.
"—— should feel that his obligations are increased, with his means and opportunities for improvement. If by travel he acquire a better education, and can make himself more useful on his return, he can no more divest himself of his increased duties, than he can divest himself of his duty to be honest. The account is to be rendered for the use of the talents, whether they be ten, or five, or one. If I have opportunity, I shall write a few lines to —— before he leaves. If I should not, I desire him to feel that I have great affection for him, and deep interest in his progress, and an ardent hope that his health, improvement, and knowledge, may be commensurate with the rare advantages he will enjoy for the acquisition of all.
"I know the tender feelings of your husband on all things touching his family or friends; and perhaps I may find opportunity to speak a word of comfort to him. But I know not what more to say than to reiterate the sentiment here expressed. Nature will have its way for a time, but I hope reason will be sufficient to make that time very short. Whatever time it may be, of this I feel confident, that, after the feelings have once subsided, —— will have all the sunshine and joy which the event is calculated to produce. He cannot know until he has realized the pleasure of hearing the absent ones speak, as it were, in his ear, from a distance of three thousand miles.
"May the best blessings of the Almighty rest on you and yours! From your ever affectionate
A. L."