MAY 28.
"There
is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one
dead lamb is there;
There is
no fireside, howso'er defended,
But has
one vacant chair."
LONGFELLOW.
This is another never-to-be-forgotten day on the calendar of my life,
being the anniversary of the death of my twin brother, Franklin
P., which occurred May 28, 1854--thirty-six years ago. As the
"whirligig of time" brings around each anniversary I think of
my departed brother on that day as much as I do on the anniversary of
our birthday. To me it is a day for thought, a day for what I might call
a sentimental journey, in which I have time to reflect that "the
furnace of affliction refines us from earthly drowsiness, and softens us
for the impression of God's own stamp." It was also a day of
practical journey for me, as well as sentimental, for I returned home to
Blooming Valley from my trip to East Branch, Warren County, Penn., a
distance of probably over thirty miles.
May 30, Memorial Day, finds me in Cleveland, Ohio, whither I had come
yesterday to be present at the dedication of the Garfield Monument. I am
making my home during my stay with my niece, Mrs.
Eugene Russell, and her husband was kind enough to show me around
the city, which was handsomely and appropriately decorated, and thronged
with visitors. The monument stands in the beautiful Lake View Cemetery,
and there were congregated many thousands of loyal people to witness the
imposing and impressive ceremony. There were present the President, the
Vice-President, members of the cabinet and other government officials.
There were for sale among the people copies of the last letter written
by President James A. Garfield to his
mother, and I bought several for distribution among friends. The letter
reads as follows:
WASHINGTON, D. C., AUGUST 11, 1881.
DEAR MOTHER:
Don't be disturbed by conflicting reports about my condition. It is
true I am still weak and on my back, but I am gaining every day, and
need only time and patience to bring me through. Give my love to all my
relatives and friends, and especially to sisters Hetty
and Mary.
Your loving son,
(Signed.) JAMES
A. GARFIELD.
On my return home I stopped at our church to attend meeting, and
after the sermon I remained to the quarterly conference, as I knew not
how much our society had to pay our pastor, nor had I heard how we were
to raise the money. It was referred to by our pastor, Mr.
Clyde, and in the report he said in that conference he would take
me or his chances for $25, his claim being $125 for the year. This
responsibility he took without my knowledge. I was pleased to hear of
his confidence in me in regard to my supporting our pastor, so when the
opportunity came I arose, having in my hand a hymn book which belonged
to the church, and said: "I thank Brother Clyde for his confidence
in me in this financial matter. If I owned this book I hold in my hand,
I would want it to praise the Lord, as I need nothing in this world but
what will do good and praise the name of the Lord. Everything I have
belongs to Him; I myself am His property; it was in this house we made
the contract, when I, a miserable sinner, gave myself to Him. He gave me
life and salvation, set me free, and in the joy of my heart I began to
praise His name and work for Him, because He has made me a free man, and
I love to do His will. I subscribe $50, this day, for the support of the
Gospel among us." Our pastor's $25 investment was thus doubled in a
very short time. There is real pleasure in doing good and serving the
Lord; God loveth a cheerful giver!
Sunday, June 1.--This is "Basket Meeting" day at our
church, and services will be held three times a day for a week. This
morning there is Love Feast, and preaching by Elder
Kummer, which I attended, as well as the evening service. In the
afternoon I went to the funeral of Mrs. Cook (mother
of John Cook, of Richmond Township,
Crawford County), who died at the age of eighty-six years. The funeral
services were held at Advent Church, Blooming Valley. While in the
cemetery I visited Eliza's grave, and was cheered in my heart by finding
it had been decorated on Memorial Day with flowers, indicating that her
blessed memory lives in other hearts besides my own. Verily, from the
peaceful bosom of her grave spring none but fond regrets and tender
recollections.
June 2.--I can truthfully say I love traveling, and I can with
equal truth confess I love home, that rallying place of all the
affections. Yesterday, in church, when speaking, I said, "If I
could sing just now my words would be, 'My heavenly home is bright and
fair.'" I thank the Lord at all times for the hope He has given me
of a future life; and is it not true that those who place their hopes in
another world have, in a great measure, conquered dread of death and
unreasonable love of life? But this morning I am thankful to Him for the
home here. If we would be truly happy--happy every day, every hour of
our lives--we must be thankful for everything we receive, spiritual or
temporal, God to be paramount in all things--in thought, word or deed.
Thompson, the poet, in his ode to Spring, says that happiness consists
in
"An
elegant sufficiency, content,
Retirement,
rural quiet, friendship, books,
Ease and
alternate labor, useful life,
Progressive
virtue, and approving heaven."
I would like to say something of my dear old home. After breakfast
this morning I took a scythe and mowed the yards, both back and front;
and while at work I thought of how my father was wont to do the very
same thing, and of how he taught us boys, his sons, the method. In those
days the lawn mower was little known in our part of the State, and to be
able to mow well with a scythe was considered quite an accomplishment.
In my school days I was often encouraged and sometimes flattered by my
school teacher saying to me: "Francis, you love your book;"
yes, and I can say now that I love my occupation, farming. Mowing by
hand in my early-day experience was no small item in our harvest work,
as we usually had a large hay crop to take in; and perhaps I loved it
because father loved it, and I learned it of him. Last year, at this
time I was in Kansas, and my father-in-law's people gave me credit for
mowing their door-yard so well that they declared they "had never
seen it done better;" and this morning I was encouraged in my work
by my neighbors who in passing commented on the lawn looking
"natural, old style," etc., "you can mow as well as any
of your boys, or better," said some, and so forth; and as I heard
them I confess I felt a proper pride glowing within me.
June 5.--To-day I went on foot to the primary election which
was held in the town-house about five miles from here, and at the same
time made several calls--on D. H. Miller,
then to the Alms House to see my cousin Julia Ann
Morehead, who is older than I, and whom I have known for years.
After this visit I went to Saegertown, thence to the mineral springs,
where I drank of the waters; then to the home of George
Floyd, whom I found very busy; also saw
John Barr, a relative of Mr. Floyd, and whose wife attended
school at Cowen's school-house, where I did many years ago. At the
Republican primary Mr. Floyd was nominated judge of election. I voted
soon after the polls opened, and then left for Meadville. I had what I
call a special privilege to-day, the pleasure of calling on my aged
school teacher, Mr. John R. Donnelly, who
lives near Meadville, not very far north from Allegheny College, on the
old pike road. He was as glad to see me as I was to meet him, especially
when I told him that I had called to thank him for the good he had done
me in my boyhood. I am not mistaken when I say that this visit was both
interesting and profitable to me; I had but little to impart, but I
received much. Mr. Donnelly I have always esteemed and loved for his
general benevolence and humanity, regarding him as a man such as
Epicurus had in his thoughts when he said that "a beneficent person
is like a fountain watering the earth and spreading fertility."
Sunday, June 8--This is "Children's Day" at the
State Road M. E. Church, and I will here give in part what I wrote at
the time for the Pennsylvania Farmer, as I believe it expresses about
all I could say were I to sit down and attempt to rewrite an account of
the interesting event:
CHILDREN'S DAY.
Children's Day comes but once a year, and on this occasion some came
from a distance. I was truly glad my friends, C.
R. Slocum and wife, had remained to spend the Sabbath at State
Road. It was a rare opportunity. He and I took our first lessons in
Sunday-school here, he nearly fifty years ago, while I, with my
brothers, was brought here by my parents over fifty years ago, and my
heart swells with thankfulness when I reflect that I have been permitted
to attend church and Sabbath-school here ever since. It is written,
Delight thysef in the Lord, but I am unable to express all the joy and
peace I have found in His service since first my young heart was turned
toward Him and my feet toward His courts. Boyhood days are not easily
forgotten, and how eagerly my anxious soul waited to enjoy this happy
event. I was so glad that my friend had come on a visit at this time, so
that we could enjoy Children's Day together at State Road. I only
regretted that my absent wife was not here, otherwise my cup of joy
would have run over.
I called early at Lewis Slocum's in
order to accompany him and Charles to Sunday-school and church, as in
the olden time, and we took sweet counsel together as we walked by the
way. Then our country church was so pleasingly decorated with ferns and
flowers and cages of singing birds, indicating that peace and happiness
dwelt here. The mottoes on the wall were precious reminders, "You
are welcome" made us feel so, and "Jesus loves the
children" found a responsive "amen" in our hearts.
Much credit is due the school for the manner in which the program was
carried out. The address by C. R. Slocum,
in which he related some of his early experiences at State Road, was
most interesting. Among those present who attended with him forty-seven
years ago, he named Francis Waid, G. N. Waid and
Orlando Reed, who were present; all the rest were gone. Brother
Slocum was listened to with marked attention during his entire address.
So also was Brother G. H. St. John,
superintendent of the Meadville State Street Sunday-school, who spoke
words of encouragement from his experience in the Sabbath-school as a
scholar in youth and as a worker in the good work.
I was full of the spirit when my turn came to face the large
gathering of familiar faces, and speak my piece with the rest. I was
happy in the thought that the Lord is good to all; who would not praise
His name? And yet how much am I personally indebted to Him for the
blessings I enjoy?
"I see here G. N. Waid, my only
brother now living. Here are my children and grandchildren with
neighbors' children," I said, and I felt especially blest in making
a few remarks to them and casting in my mite to swell their contribution
to the Lord's work by doubling it, making my love and attachment to the
church and Sunday-school stronger than ever. Brother Slocum, my brother
G. N., and myself attended Sunday-school in the old church which stood
on the corner in 1847, soon after Mr. Slocum's family moved on the George
Smith farm on State Road, near Ira C. Waid's,
in 1840. About this date, or a little later, Cyrus
Goodwill, my uncle, was superintendent., and at one time, Charles
Breed was our teacher. The children of that time that are now
living are among the older persons in the community, while most of them
have passed away. I am so glad to have lived to see the advantages of
the present day. My school privileges were the common school, two terms
in Allegheny College, one term in the Waterford Academy in Erie County,
and one term in Meadville Academy. These were all enjoyed in company
with my friend, C. R. Slocum. No wonder I have enjoyed this Children's
Day in his company. I recently had the pleasure of meeting Charles
Breed, our Sunday-school teacher of near fifty years ago, and he
remembered each boy of his class, comprising
George Goodwill, A. S. Goodrich, C. R. Slocum, Franklin Waid, myself
and one other whose name neither of us could recall.
I also have here the pleasure of adding what I contributed about that
time to the same paper, the Pennsylvania Farmer, under the heading,
NOTES FROM A VISITOR AT OUR SABBATH-SCHOOL
ON CHILDREN'S DAY,
Having the opportunity of attending morning services at the Second M.
E. Church, in Meadville, with my friend, I improved it with pleasure.
The program and decorations pleased me much, and though the latter were
plain yet they were appropriate and beautiful, and the eye was satisfied
with seeing, the ear was pleased with hearing, and my heart was
instructed in the good way of life, and made glad by the sweet songs and
recitations of the children. The dialogue by the infant class--in which
many little ones took part by repeating a passage of scripture, and then
contributing a bouquet to decorate a cross till it was hid from view
with the beautiful gifts touched my heart with the sacred thought which
it inspired.
Then the quotations from the Bible were so appropriate to the
occasion that I wanted to join them in this exercise, which I did in
heart, and longed to join them in the work of decorating that cross; and
I thought of two roses a friend had given me, which were in my pocket,
and which, though faded, were all I had to give. Had I offered them I
should have said: "Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is
liberty." Again: "The Lord knoweth them that are His." I
was prevented for the moment from intruding out of respect for the
occasion, but my desire was granted through the superintendent, Brother
St. John. In shaking hands with him I informed him of my desires, and
the two faded roses were placed with the children's gifts on the cross.
I said to my friend, "Put them on as a token of my love for the
Sunday-school. I am glad my parents taught me to attend when a boy, and
I have loved the Sabbath-school ever since; both it and church are very
dear to me. I am glad to enjoy this favor and means of grace, where one
can do good and receive blessing from the hand of the Lord. Now permit
me to double the children's collection to-day, and let the faded roses
teach us to do good as we have opportunity."
My Children's Day opportunities in Meadville were improved and
appreciated. They included the evening services at the First M. E.
Church, where I listened to a most helpful sermon from Dr.
C. E. Hall. I, also with a friend, had a view of the fine
decorations at the Baptist Church in the afternoon, where banks of
flowers and appropriate mottoes, with a sparkling fountain, made the
scene most beautiful. What I saw in Meadville on Children's Day
suggested Psalm cxlvii: 12, 13: Both young men and maidens, old men and
children, let them praise the name of the Lord, for His name alone is
excellent, His glory is above the earth and Heaven.
The tiny blade of grass and flower speak His praise, how good is His
name. Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord, and all nature
join in the song!
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