"If I cannot visit you bodily, as I had vainly hoped to do, I can convince you that the life and hope of younger days are still in me. Your parting word touched me to the quick, and I cannot repeat or read it without a sympathetic tear filling my own eye. I am not able to stand up; but am cheered by the hope that, before many weeks, I may be able to stand alone. Our good friend Governor Briggs called to see me this week, and was quite horrified to see me trundled about on a hospital chair; however, after a good talk, he concluded that what was cut off from the lower works was added to the upper, and the account in my favor. It has always been so with me; the dark places have been made clear at the right time; so I am no object of pity."
The lameness here mentioned was caused by a slight sprain of the ankle, but was followed by great prostration of the bodily strength, and a feeble state of all the functions, resulting in that vitiated state of the blood called by physicians "purpura." Violent hemorrhages from the nose succeeded; and these, with the intense heat of the weather, so reduced his strength, that the only hope of recovery seemed to be in removing him from the city to the bracing air of the sea-shore. Towards the end of July, he was accordingly removed upon a mattress to the house of his son, at Nahant; and, from the moment he came within the influence of the fresh sea-breeze, he began to recover his spirits and his strength. A day or two after reaching Nahant, he received from his friend, the Rev. Dr. Sharp, the following letter, which is so characteristic, and reminds one so forcibly of the calm and staid manner of that venerable man, that it is given entire:
"Boston, July 30, 1850.
"My very dear Friend: It was with deep regret I learned, on Friday last, that you were quite unwell, and at Nahant. It was in my mind yesterday morning to visit you; nothing prevented me but an apprehension that it might be deemed inexpedient to admit any one to your sick room, except your own family. But, although I have not seen you in person since your last sickness, yet I have been with you in spirit. I have felt exceedingly sad at the probability of your earthly departure. Seldom as we have seen each other, your friendship has been precious to me; and, to say nothing of your dear family, your continuance in life is of great importance to that large family of humanity, the poor, who have so often participated in your bounty. Indeed, as we cannot well spare you, I rather cherish the hope that, in his good providence, God will continue you to us a little longer. But, whatever may be the issue of your present illness, I trust that you, with all your friends, will be enabled to say, 'The will of the Lord be done.' If he 'lives the longest who answers life's great end,' your life, compared with most, has not been short. Not that any of us have done more than our duty. Nay, we have all come short, and may say, with all modesty and truthfulness, we are unprofitable servants; although, in some respects, and to our fellow-beings, we may have been profitable. I trust, my dear friend, you are looking for the mercy of God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, unto eternal life. Death is not an eternal sleep; no, it is the gate to life. It opens up a blessed immortality to all who, in this world, have feared God and wrought righteousness. This world is a probationary state; if we have been faithful, in some humble degree, to our convictions of duty; if we have regretted our follies and sins; if we have sought to do the will of our heavenly Father, and sought forgiveness through the mediation of his Son,—God will receive us to his heavenly glory. I believe, in his own good time, he will receive you, my very dear friend; although my prayer is, with submission, that he will restore you to comfortable health, and allow you to remain with us a little longer. May God be with you, and bless you, in life, in death, and forevermore! With most respectful regard to Mrs. L., and sympathy with you in your afflictions, in which my dear wife joins,
I am truly yours,
Daniel Sharp."
From Little Nahant, Mr. Lawrence writes to a friend, under date of Aug. 16:
"I have just arisen from bed, and am full of the matter to tell you how much good your letter has done. I came here as the last remedy for a sinking man; and, blessed be God, it promises me renewed life and enjoyment. What is it for, that I am thus saved in life, as by a miracle? Surely it must be in mercy, to finish out my work begun (in your college and other places), yet unfinished. Pray, give us what time you can when you visit Andover. If I continue to improve as I have done for ten days, I hope to return home next week; but may have some drawback that will alter the whole aspect of affairs. This beautiful Little Nahant seems to have been purchased, built up, and provided, by the good influence of our merciful Father in heaven upon the heart of ——, that he might save me from death, when it was made certain I could not hold out many days longer. Surely I am called on by angel voices to render praise to God."
The five weeks' residence upon the sea-shore was greatly enjoyed by Mr. Lawrence. As the weather was generally fine, much of his time was passed in the open air, in watching the ever-varying sea-views, in reading, or in receiving the visits of his friends. Near the end of August, his health and strength had become so far restored as to warrant his return to the city, and, as his memoranda show, to increased efforts in the field of charity.