In alluding to this transaction in another place, he says:
"This incident shows how dangerous it is to the independence and comfort of families, for parents to take pecuniary responsibilities for their sons in trade, beyond their power of meeting them without embarrassment. Had my Hillsborough Bank notes not been paid as they were, nearly the whole amount would have been lost, and myself and family might probably have been ruined. The incident was so striking, that I have uniformly discouraged young men who have applied to me for credit, offering their fathers as bondsmen; and, by doing so, I have, I believe, saved some respectable families from ruin. My advice, however, has been sometimes rejected with anger. A young man who cannot get along without such aid will not be likely to get along with it. On the first day of January, 1808, I had been but a few days in business; and the profits on all my sales to that day were one hundred and seventy-five dollars and eighteen cents. The expenses were to come out, and the balance was my capital. In 1842, the sum had increased to such an amount as I thought would be good for my descendants; and, from that time, I have been my own executor. How shall I show my sense of responsibility? Surely by active deeds more than by unmeaning words. God grant me to be true and faithful in his work!"
Having become fairly established in Boston, Mr. Lawrence concluded to take his brother Abbott, then fifteen years of age, as an apprentice. On the 8th of October, 1808, Abbott accordingly joined his brother, who says of him:
"In 1808, he came to me as my apprentice, bringing his bundle under his arm, with less than three dollars in his pocket (and this was his fortune); a first-rate business lad he was, but, like other bright lads, needed the careful eye of a senior to guard him from the pitfalls that he was exposed to."
In his diary of February 10, 1847, he writes:
"In the autumn of 1809, I boarded at Granger's Coffee House, opposite Brattle-street Church; and, in the same house, Mr. Charles White took up his quarters, to prepare his then new play, called the 'Clergyman's Daughter.' He spent some months in preparing it to secure a _run_ for the winter; and used to have Tennett, Canfield, Robert Treat Paine, and a host of others, to dine with him very often. I not unfrequently left the party at the dinner-table, and found them there when I returned to tea. Among the boarders was a fair proportion of respectable young men, of different pursuits; and, having got somewhat interested for White, we all agreed to go, and help bring out his 'Clergyman's Daughter.' Mrs. Darley was the lady to personate her, and a more beautiful creature could not be found. She and her husband (who sung his songs better than any man I had ever heard then) had all the spirit of parties in interest. We filled the boxes, and encored, and all promised a great run. After three nights, we found few beside the friends, and it was laid aside a failure. In looking back, the picture comes fresh before me; and, among all, I do not recollect one who was the better, and most were ruined. The theatre is no better now."