Another thing, to any one who may now imagine he, perhaps, entered business on the tide of prosperity, we desire simply to say, on the contrary, from 1808 to 1815 was one of the dullest periods our mercantile history can recount. No, "luck" did not favor him, but "pluck" did. He pushed his mercantile business for years, amassing an immense fortune. Our country was then new, and he had to import most of his merchandise from England, but as he ever made a study of his business, concluded that he would start manufacturing industries here, which would prove not only profitable to himself, but of inestimable value to us as a nation. In accordance with these motives, he was largely instrumental in connection with the Lowells in building up the flourishing cities of Lowell and Lawrence.
He never speculated in stocks. Young men, there is no money in stocks to the average man. Not even in legitimate stock dealing, to say nothing of the numerous watered concerns. We were looking over a paper recently when our attention was attracted to a paragraph which explained that in a transaction which involved 8,000 bushels of wheat, it was found that the odds against the buyer was over 22 per cent. While wheat is not stocks, still a good rule would be never to go into anything unless the chances are at least equal.
Amos Lawrence once said: "Young man, base all your actions upon a sense of right, and in doing so, never reckon the cost." What a glorious principle for any young man—a principle he would find hard to follow in many stock speculations. "Even exchange is no robbery." It is not even exchange to bet and take a man's money; and it makes little difference whether you bet on a horse's gait or the grain he will eat next month. At another time he said: "Good principles, good temper, and good manners will carry a young man through the world much better than he can get along with the absence of either." His sayings are numerous, yet every one is worthy of attention; all of them have a golden thought for old and young.
Mr. Lawrence did not give away in large amounts to institutions of learning, but he kept two rooms in his house wholly for the storage of articles designed to relieve poor people. One contained clothing of every description; the other, food and other necessaries of life. He gave away during his life, over $700,000, and when he died people mourned that he had gone, for there were none left that could take his place. Ah! this is success. He died December 31st, 1852.
[Horace B. Claflin.]
This great dry-goods prince was born at Milford, Massachusetts, in 1811, and his education was attained in the public schools of that place. When he became of age he bought out the store in which he was clerk, and in company with another young man began business for himself. But this place was too small for the already expanding vision of both Claflin & Daniels; they accordingly moved to Worcester. The latter place proving yet too small for Claflin, we soon see him located in Cedar street, New York, where he finds himself somewhat satisfied for a time. After a period of successful trade—extending over six years' time, the young men were compelled to find more commodious quarters, which they found at No. 57 Broadway, and two years later they moved once more, locating in the Trinity Building. 1860 came, their business was found to amount to about $12,000,000 annually, and the firm resolved to build a store, for themselves. The result was an immense dry-goods palace. The retail business was entirely abandoned, and Claflin at once sprung to the front as the leading wholesale dry-goods merchant of America.
One day, about five o'clock, Mr. Claflin sat in his private office when a young man, pale and careworn, timidly knocked and was asked in. "Mr. Claflin," said he, "I am in need of help. I have been unable to meet certain payments because certain parties have not done by me as they agreed. I would like to have $10,000. I come to you because I knew that you were a friend of my father, and I thought possibly you might be a friend to me." "Come in and have a glass of wine," said Claflin. "No," said the young man, "I never drink." "Have a cigar?" "No, I never smoke." "Well," replied Claflin, "I am sorry but I don't feel that I can let you have the money." "Very well," replied the young man, "I thought perhaps you might; hence I came. Good day, sir." "Hold on," said Claflin. "You don't drink?" "No." "Nor smoke?" "No sir." "Nor gamble?" "No sir; I am superintendent of a Sunday-school, in —— street." "Well," said Claflin, "you shall have it." This was characteristic of the man. This anecdote well illustrates his character. He was an everyday Christian.
On November 14, 1885, he passed away, leaving one more gap in the commercial world, and in the membership of Plymouth Church, of which he had been a member many years. Probably no one man missed him more at the time of his death than did Henry Ward Beecher, of whom he had long been a devoted admirer.