Regarding himself as a steward of the riches committed to him, Amos Lawrence was liberal in his charities. During the last twenty-four years of his life he kept an accurate account of the sums he thus distributed, but with no idea that the statement, which he intended for his own eye only, would ever be made public. During this period he gave away six hundred and thirty-nine thousand dollars. The greater part of this was given away in ten years, and during a period when his average income was sixty thousand dollars a year. He was a liberal patron of education, giving large sums to its extension; and it was his delight to assist poor clergymen, without regard to denominations. He gave away clothing, food, books, etc., in large quantities, as well as ready money. "Two rooms in his house," says his son and biographer, "and sometimes three, were used principally for the reception of useful articles for distribution. There, when stormy weather or ill-health prevented him from taking his usual drive, he was in the habit of passing hours in selecting and packing up articles which he considered suitable to the wants of those whom he wished to aid." He did not forget the children, and many of his packages contained toys, and books, and other things calculated to promote their enjoyment.
He was beset with beggars of all kinds, many of whom he was compelled to refuse. In his diary, he wrote on the 11th of April, 1849, "Applications come in from all quarters, for all objects. The reputation of giving freely is a very bad reputation, so far as my personal comfort is concerned."
It pained him to have his charities made public, and he frequently requested the recipients to say nothing about them. He once made a present of some books to the Johnson school for girls, and the gift being acknowledged through the columns of a newspaper, he wrote to the principal of the school: "I merely want to say that I hope you will not put me in the newspaper at present, and when my work is done here, if you have any thing to say about me that will not hurt my children and grandchildren, say on," To another party he wrote: "I must request that my name be not thrust forward, as though I was to be a by-word for my vanity. I want to do good, but am sorry to be published, as in the recent case."
As a merchant, Mr. Lawrence was upright, prudent, far-seeing, sagacious, and courageous; as a citizen, he was patriotic, public-spirited, and devoted; and as a man, he was a sincere, earnest, Christian husband, father, and friend. Viewed in any light, his character affords one of the most perfect models to be found in our history. He was the Christian gentleman in all things, even in the minutest detail of his business. His standard was very high, but he came up to it. Courteous and dignified in manner, with a face handsome and winning in youth, and gentle and benignant in age, he made scores of friends wherever he went, for it was a true index to his character. It is a significant and interesting fact that, during the hottest passages of the old nullification times, although his views were known to be uncompromisingly opposed to the attitude of the South, he never lost the warmest friendship of some of the most advanced of the South Carolina leaders. When one thinks of the friendships that were wrecked amid the passions of those days, this fact speaks volumes for the personal attributes of Mr. Lawrence.
He was a true American—proud of his country's past, hopeful for her future, and desiring nothing better than to live and die in the land of his birth. He sent his children abroad that they might see the Old World, and profit by the lessons learned there, but he strove earnestly to keep them true to their country. To his son, who was traveling in France in 1829, he wrote:
"Bring home no foreign fancies which are inapplicable to our state of society. It is very common for our young men to come home and appear quite ridiculous in attempting to introduce their foreign fashions. It should be always kept in mind that the state of society is widely different here from that in Europe; and our comfort and character require it should long remain so. Those who strive to introduce many of the European habits and fashions, by displacing our own, do a serious injury to the republic, and deserve censure. An idle person, with good powers of mind, becomes torpid and inactive after a few years of indulgence, and is incapable of making any high effort. Highly important it is, then, to avoid this enemy of mental and moral improvement. I have no wish that you pursue trade; I would rather see you on a farm, or studying any profession.
"It should always be your aim so to conduct yourself that those whom you value most in the world would approve your conduct, if your actions were laid bare to their inspection; and thus you will be pretty sure that He who sees the motive of all our actions will accept the good designed, though it fall short in its accomplishment. You are young, and are placed in a situation of great peril, and are, perhaps, sometimes tempted to do things which you would not do if you knew yourself under the eye of your guardian. The blandishments of a beautiful city may lead you to forget that you are always surrounded, supported, and seen by that best Guardian."
He was an eminently just man, and he carried this trait into the little details of his domestic life. His household adored him; and his friends were bound to him by ties unusually strong. He was firm and positive in his own opinions; but he was tolerant of those who differed from him. He was a man of quick, nervous temperament, but he possessed a powerful self-control. He was a sincere and earnest Christian, and while attaching himself to the sect of his choice, his sympathies and aid went out to the whole Christian Church.
Denominational differences had no place in his heart. He stood on the broad platform of the "faith of Christ crucified."
During the last years of his life, Mr. Lawrence was a constant invalid. To a man of his temperament this was a great trial, but he bore it unflinchingly, exhibiting, in the long years of feeble health which preceded his death, a cheerfulness and patience which plainly showed the aid of the Arm on which he leaned for support. For sixteen years he did not take a meal with his family. His food and drink, of the simplest kind, were regularly weighed, a pair of scales being kept in his chamber for that purpose. He wrote to his friend President Hopkins, of Williams College: "If your young folks want to know the meaning of epicureanism, tell them to take some bits of coarse bread (one ounce or a little more), soak them in three gills of coarse meal gruel, and make their dinner of them, and nothing else; beginning very hungry, and leaving off more hungry."