was absolutely without a prejudice. Nor did he give merely to charities, and persons in want of charitable assistance. To others who derived nothing but gratification from the approach of a good man, he made suitable gifts, stimulating them to kindred exertions in the good cause of brotherly love. "And in so doing, and in witnessing the results, and in the atmosphere of sympathy and love thus created, there was a test, and a discipline, and an enjoyment, as well as a benefit to others, that could have been reached in no other way." Another peculiarity of the bounty of Mr. Lawrence, and in which he was pre-eminent, was the personal attention and sympathy which he bestowed with it. “He had in his house," says Professor Hopkins, "a room where he kept stores of useful articles for distribution. He made up the bundle; he directed the package. No detail was overlooked. He remembered the children, and designated for each the toy, the book, the elegant gift. He thought of every want, and was ingenious and happy in devising appropriate gifts. In this attention to the minutest token of regard, while, at the same time, he could give away thousands like a prince, he was unequaled; and if the gift was appropriate, the manner of giving was not less so. There was in this the nicest appreciation of the feeling of others, and an intuitive perception of delicacy and propriety. These were the characteristics that gave him a hold upon the hearts of many, and made his death really felt as that of few other men in Boston could have been. In this we find not a little of the utility, and much of the beauty of charity. Even in his human life man does not live by bread alone, but by sympathy and the play of reciprocal affection, and is often more touched by the kindness than by the relief. Only this sympathy it is that can establish the right relation between the rich and the poor, and the necessity for this can be superseded by no legal provision. This only can neutralize the repellent and aggressive tendencies of individuals and of classes, and make society a brotherhood, where the various inequalities shall work out moral good, and where acts of mutual kindness and helpfulness may pass and repass, as upon a golden chain, during a brief pilgrimage and scene of probation. It is a great and a good thing for a rich man to set the stream of charity in motion; to employ an agent, to send a check, to found an asylum, to endow a professorship, to open a fountain that shall flow for ages; but it is as different from sympathy with present suffering, and the relief of immediate want, as the building of a dam to turn a factory by one great sluiceway is from the irrigation of the fields. By Mr. Lawrence both were done. He gave Not as a Christian man, from a sense of religious obligation. that all his gifts had a religious aspect: he gave gifts of friendship and affection. There was a large inclosure where the affections walked foremost, and where, though they asked leave of Duty, they yet received no prompting from her.” to From the eloquent address of President Hopkins we also quote the following estimate of Mr. Lawrence's religious character: "He was a deeply religious man. His trust in God and his hope of salvation through Christ were the basis of his character. He believed in the providence of God as concerned in all events, and as discriminating and retributive in this world. He felt that he could trust God in his providence where he could not see. "The events of my life,' he says, 'have been so far ordered in a way make me feel that I know nothing at the time except that a Father rules; and his discipline, however severe, is never more so than is required.' He believed in the Bible, and saw rightly its relation to all our blessings. What,' he writes again, 'should we do if the Bible were not the foundation of our self-government? and what will become of us when we willfully and wickedly cast it behind us?' He read the Bible morning and evening in his family, and prayed with them; and it may aid those who are acquainted with the prayers of Thornton, in forming a conception of his religious character, to know that he used them. Family religion he esteemed as above all price; and when he first learned that a beloved relative had established family worship, he wept for joy. He distributed religious books very extensively, chiefly those of the American Tract Society and of the American Sunday School Union. **** Of creeds held in the understanding, but not influencing the life, he thought little, and the tendency of his mind was. to practical rather than doctrinal views. He believed in our Lord Jesus Christ as a Savior, and trusted in him for salvation. He was a man of habitual prayer. The last time I visited him, he said to me that he had been restless during the night, and that the only way in which he could get 'quieted was by getting near to God,' and that he went to sleep repeating a prayer. During the same visit, he spoke strongly of his readiness, and even of his desire to depart. He viewed death with tranquillity, and hope, and preparation, for it was habitual with him. What need I say more? At midnight the summons came, and his work was done.” At midnight on the 30-31st of December, 1852, this admirable man breathed his last, without having awakened to consciousness from the slumber into which he had fallen. On the morning of his death was found upon his table the following lines, copied by him from a favorite hymn: "Vital spark of heavenly flame, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, " The abrupt termination, as if called away by the Angel of Death, is most singular. The memoranda and letters of Mr. Lawrence are voluminous, and display a simple felicity of language rarely surpassed. They have been incorporated to an extent in the "Diary and Correspondence" edited by Dr. Lawrence. To that work we once more direct the attention of the reader. HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN. THE story of a thankful man, told in a delightful manner, is the "True Story of My Life," by Mr. Andersen. From this volume we shall condense a narrative of one of the most remarkable literary characters of the age-a man whose delightful fancies are known in every country, whose genial humor is a source of gratification to millions of the rising generation, and whose individual history is full of happy incident and instruction. Hans Christian Andersen is a native of Denmark—a poetical land, full of popular traditions, old songs, and eventful history. He was born at Odense in the year 1805 (April 2d). His father was a shoemaker, and a man of richly-gifted and truly poetical mind; his mother, a few years older, was a simple peasant-woman, ignorant of life and the world, but possessed of a heart full of love. They were in extremely humble circumstances, and the bedstead on which the little Hans made his first appearance in the world was nearly the only article of furniture in the room, and had been constructed by Mr. Andersen out of the wooden frame which, only a short time before, had borne the coffin of a deceased count. The remnants of the black cloth on the woodwork kept the fact still in remembrance. Being the only child, Hans was, of course, extremely spoiled. His father gratified him in all his wishes. As soon as he could understand the meaning of language, he read to him from Holberg and the "Arabian Nights' Entertainments.” On Sundays he went out into the woods, not to talk with him, for he was silent and moody on such occasions, but to give him an opportunity of playing among the wild flowers and plucking the fragrant strawberry. Young Hans was from the earliest of a warm, genial imagination, and every thing around him tended to excite it. Odense itself, in those days, was a totally different city to what it is now; a person might have fancied himself living hundreds of years ago, so many strange customs prevailed which belonged to an earlier period. The guilds walked in procession through the town, with their harlequin before them, and mace and bells; on Shrove Tuesday the butchers led the fattest ox through the streets adorned with garlands, while a boy in a white shirt, and with great wings on his shoulders, rode upon it; the sailors paraded through the city with music and all their flags flying, and then two of the boldest among them stood and wrestled upon a plank placed between two boats, and the one who was not thrown into the water was the victor. Every event which occurred in or around his home printed itself in vivid colors on his memory. He noticed every thing, seldom played with other boys, and even at school took little interest in their games. He was a singularly dreamy child, and so constantly went about with his eyes shut as at last to give the impression of having weak sight. Like most people who observe a great deal, he seemed to observe nothing. In the summer months he used to accompany his mother to the harvest-fields, and assist in the operation of gleaning. One day they went to a place, the bailiff of which was well known for being a man of a rude and savage disposition. They had not been engaged long when they saw him coming with a huge whip in his hand. The gleaners hurried away with the greatest precipitation, but poor little Hans lost his wooden shoes, and the thorns pricked him so that he could not run as fast as the others. The bailiff came up and lifted his whip to strike him. Hans looked in his face, and involuntarily exclaimed, "How dare you strike me, when God can see it?” The strong, stern man looked at him, and at once became mild; he patted the little fellow on his cheek, and gave him money. At an early age Hans Christian lost his father, who was a strange man, superior to his station, and unwisely dissatisfied with it. One morning he awoke in a state of the wildest excitement, and Hans was dispatched in all haste to a wise woman, who lived some miles from Odense, to obtain medical relief. She questioned him, measured his arm with a woolen thread, made extraordinary signs, and at last laid a green twig upon his breast, saying that it was a piece of the same kind of tree upon which the Savior was crucified. Go, now," she said, "by the river's side toward home, If your father will die this time, then you will meet his ghost." Hans obeyed the injunction, but, as he did not meet any one, he congratulated himself that his father was safe. He died the third 66 |