Sunday, September 28.--To-day
at State Street Church, Meadville, I heard our new pastor, Rev.
Laverty, preach his initiatory sermon. Our old pastor, Rev.
James Clyde, was present, and he accompanied me out to State Road
Church, where I listened to his farewell address, which was touching and
full of sympathy and love. I was glad to be present, as I, too, was
aware of having shortly to leave my home and brethren for weeks at
least, perhaps months, maybe for ever--who can tell [I here refer to my
projected trip to the West, to meet my wife, an account of which will be
found elsewhere]? "Man proposes, God disposes."
September 29.--My brother and I went to Saegertown on
business, and I availed myself of the opportunity to distribute a few
more copies of my SOUVENIR; then on my return home was very busy with
many things in preparation for my setting out West. I hope to see all my
three sons before starting, but at present Guinnip
and Fred are from home threshing in the
country; however, I may see them to-morrow. Life is not an empty
dream--it is full of hope and good cheer; yet we often tread it with
caution and between the hedge-rows of doubt and fear as to the future.
We know not what may be near, what dangers, rocks and shoals, so we had
best trust in Him as long as we are here, and Heavenward our frail bark
He will assuredly steer in such safety and peace as to His children He
imparts when
"The
sun has gone down in a golden glow,
And the
Heavenly city lies just below."
[From September 30, 1890, to January 1, 1891, comes my fifth trip to
Kansas and the West, an account of which commences at page 42.]
1891.
Sunday, January 4.--To-day I went to State Road Church Sunday-school,
and to each of the scholars present under twenty years of age I offered
a copy of my SECOND SOUVENIR, requesting the superintendent to send me
the names of all those who would like to have one. I feel as if I want
to do something for our Sunday-school where I have shared the blessings
of the Lord in some manner or another for the past fifty years since I
first commenced to attend both it and the church with my parents.
January 5.--My eldest son, Franklin,
is thirty-six years old to-day. In company with G.
W. Cutshall I went to Meadville on business, and we then came to
see my brother, G. N., my first call on him
since my return from the West, and following this I made, at different
dates, a good many visits among friends and relatives, all of whom
cheered me with kindly greetings of welcome. On the 8th I learned of the
death of Mrs. Maria Long (the oldest person
in our community), at the patriarchal age of a few years under one
hundred. "Aunt Maria," as she was called, always lived near
us, and was ever noted for her industry and honesty; she was a woman who
I always thought did the best she could, and was universally beloved and
respected. Her funeral, which took place on Sunday, 11th instant, was
largely attended, although the day was very wet and uninviting; and so
desirous was I to be present that, after listening to Dr.
T. C. Beach's sermon at the M. E. Church at Meadville, I walked
from there to Blooming Valley, and thence proceeded to the cemetery.
January 10.--This I always regard as a most notable day in my
life, for it dates the commencement of my Christian life; my return to
God; my seeking after better things; my starting on the Heavenly
journey; my confirmed hope of Heaven. Why, therefore, should I not thank
and praise my Heavenly Father this day for having mercifully spared me
to reach the end of the fortieth year of my Christian life? The Lord is
so good to me that I will ever praise His name, thank Him for His
manifold mercies, and worship Him in the beauty of holiness.
"Grander
than ocean's story,
Or songs
of forest trees--
Purer
than breath of morning
Or
evening's gentle breeze--
Clearer
than mountain echoes
Ring out
from peaks above--
Rolls on
the glorious anthem
Of God's
eternal love.
"Dearer
than any lovings
The
truest friends bestow;
Stronger
than all the yearnings
A
mother's heart can know;
Deeper
than earth's foundations,
And far
above all thought;
Broader
than Heaven's high arches--
The love
of Christ has brought."
Sunday, January 11.---I have already stated that in the
forenoon of to-day I attended the M. E. Church in Meadville and Mrs.
Long's funeral. The text was 2 Timothy iii: 16: All Scripture is
given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for
reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. It was the
first time I had heard Dr. Beach, and I was
in no small degree edified and helped by his able discourse on the above
subject. This was indeed a glorious day for me in all respects, and well
worthy of being preserved on record as the "New Year's Day" of
the forty-first year of my Christian life. I want to begin the year
aright; yet; I know I must be careful, though not too careful in doing
good. I take for my own use, and that of others in my present home, five
county newspapers besides the Chautauquan, all published in Meadville,
and I have now ordered over twenty copies, that is a year's subscription
for each of some friends from January 1, 1891, to January 1, 1892, many
of which are renewals, others being new subscriptions.
January 16.--To-day I set out for Jamestown, N. Y., and on
arrival there immediately proceeded to the home of Mr.
F. Colt. On Sunday following, Gertie and
Mertie Colt accompanied me to the Methodist Episcopal Church and
Sabbath-school, where we listened to an eloquent sermon delivered by Rev.
A. C. Ellis, from John iii: 4: How can a man be born when he is
old? In the evening, along with Mr. Frank Simmons,
I went to the Opera House, where the Baptists are at present holding
their meetings while their new church is being built, and here I had the
pleasure of listening to Miss Kate Bushnell's
address on "Social Purity" [This address was listened to by a
large and evidently appreciative audience. I, myself, think it was
simply grand, and would like to hear it again; it is worth repeating
several times, even to the same audience; and I believe it would prove a
universal blessing if the whole world could have an opportunity of
listening to it, for then, I feel confident, truth and righteousness
would prevail]. On Monday I made a call on Mr. and
Mrs. Fred Davis, with whom is living Mrs. Davis' father, Mr.
Washburn, now in his eighty-seventh year [Mr. Washburn had been
in failing health for some time when I visited him last summer. I can
not give the exact date of his death, but think, from what I have been
informed, that he died in May, 1891]; also called on Mr.
S. Phillips to see blind Hattie Howard,
who used to visit at our home with her sister years ago. Among other
calls I made was one on Mr. and Mrs. Grant M.
Babcock, at whose wedding I was present September 25, 1890. On
the evening of the 19th I attended Russell Conwell's
lecture, the subject of which was "The Jolly Earthquake in India in
1605--A Legend." From Jamestown I proceeded to Ashville, in order
to visit other friends, especially Mr. Burns
and family, but I found they had moved away, intending to go to Ohio; so
thinking I might find Mr. Burns in Jamestown I returned thither, but was
disappointed, as he had gone, so I learned, to Olean to see his
daughter. On Tuesday I went to Lakewood, where I again saw my friend,
Mr. Fleek, as also his brother Fayette, at
Harmony, and enjoyed, taken all in all, a most pleasant visit. Then on
Wednesday I journeyed to Corry, where I visited an old school
acquaintance, Mrs. Henry Thurston (formerly
Delia Dickson), whom at one time I used to
see frequently, but of late years have seldom met. From there coming to
Union City, I here called on my niece, Blanche
Underholt, and family; also the Housenick boys,
with whom I am well acquainted and glad to meet again. In the evening of
the same day I came on to Saegertown, from which place a walk of a mile
and a half brought me to the County Alms House and Farm, in Woodcock
Township, of which my brother-in-law, G. W.
Cutshall, is superintendent, and Mrs.
Cutshall matron. As I tarried over night with them, I had an
opportunity of visiting them in their recently appointed positions, and,
for aught I could see, everything seemed to be going on harmoniously and
satisfactorily. I registered as a visitor, and learned that the present
number of inmates in this excellent charitable institute is 106. Blessed
is he that considereth the poor; the Lord will deliver him in the time
of trouble. Thus ended my six days' trip to Jamestown.
January 23.--On my return home this
morning I dropped in to see my sick neighbor, D.
H. Miller, and while there learned of the death, yesterday
afternoon, of George Dewey, in his
sixty-fourth year, after an illness of several weeks, I might even say
years, from a stroke of paralysis. On the following day I attended his
funeral, Rev. Barber conducted the
services, and the interment took place in Blooming Valley Cemetery.
On this same day also died Lorenzo Williams,
an old acquaintance of mine, who was born in Massachusetts in July,
1816, and came to Crawford County many years ago, and I regret that I
had not heard in time to attend his funeral. In the evening I took train
for Cochranton, a few miles southeast of here, in company with a friend,
William Adams, for the purpose of attending
the dedication of the M. E. Church at that place. It being late when we
arrived there, I stayed for the night at a hotel, but next morning,
after breakfast, my friend, Mr. A. T. Brown,
called for me, having heard I was in town. Accompanying him to his
pleasant home, I there met his wife, whom I formerly knew as Miss
Emma Hunter, and the rest of the family, and most happy indeed
were our mutual salutations. I was also glad to meet Dr.
T. C. Beach, pastor of the First Methodist Episcopal Church at
Meadville, who preached in the new church building at 10:30 A. M.; from
the text, 1 Corinthians, iii: 11: For other foundation can no man lay
than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. A very large audience,
probably 800, listened attentively to the eloquent Doctor, and at the
close of the discourse the sum of twenty-one hundred dollars was
collected toward paying off the church debt, which was in reality less
than that amount. St. James declares that in doing we are blessed, and
my own experience bears witness to the truth of his doctrine. I was
blessed in hearing the sermon, the more so as these beautiful words fell
on my ear: They shall prosper that love thee. Who would not love Zion?
Who would not wish to help on the Master's cause and kingdom? Here,
then, on the occasion of which I am writing, was an opportunity for all
to do something, and, while the contributions were pouring in, Elder
Kummer, who had the management of that portion of the exercises,
announced that a little boy [I afterward met, at the home of his
parents, this bright little boy, Floyd Fleming,
son of James G. Fleming, one of the Church
Dedication Committee, and have recently learned, with regret, of the
death of the boy's father] had come forward and given a penny, and that
the opportunity had now arrived for some one to contribute one hundred
dollars. "How many," asked the elder, "will give one
hundred dollars?" I realized, just then, that my time had come to
subscribe, and so I expressed a desire to stand beside that little boy
who had just given his mite; my request was granted, and they
accordingly put my name down for one hundred dollars. Again was I made
happy by simply doing good; and I was glad that I had followed the
example set by that fine little boy, Floyd
Fleming. In the evening the presiding elder preached a highly
appropriate sermon to another very large gathering of people. The M. E .
Society in Cochranton have now to be congratulated on their having a
fine brick church, for which they have labored faithfully. Success has
crowned their efforts, and my earnest prayer is that the Lord may bless
them more and more, both spiritually and temporally, for this new church
building has cost them eight thousand dollars in money, besides much
time, labor and patience. In the course of his remarks in the forenoon
the presiding elder said: "Mr. Waid has written a book, I have read
it; he is a self-made man." Hours of toil, days of thought, and
years of opportunity to DO GOOD have been allotted to me, and yet I wish
to do more, to open the book, so to speak, and write some kind word that
might help a friend to a better life, and cheer him onward on the path
of Christian rectitude.
In the evening of this same day I went down to
my brother's, and on my way thither heard of the death, in her
fifty-eighth year, of Martha Smith, wife of
Ira Smith, who lives on Hatch Hill; I had
known them both many years, even before they were married. On the
following day, on returning from my brother's place, I called on my aged
friends, Mr. and Mrs. J. F. Breed, who were
married in 1833, the year of my birth, and I was informed by Mr. Breed
that he would be four score years old on February 5, this year. How good
the Lord is to us! "Yes," says some one, "but He takes
our friends away." "True, but we are left, with this
comforting hope, that if we do right, and lead Christian lives, we can
go to them." These thoughts come to me as I sit writing in my diary
in the old home of my childhood, where the spirits of my twin brother,
my father and my mother all took their flight to the better land, that
Heavenly "Home eternal, beautiful and bright, where sweet joys,
supernal, never are dimmed by night." I doubt not but some may
think these reflections of mine are strange; to me, however, they do not
appear so. It is just twenty years ago, to-day (January 27, 1891), since
my father died in this old home. Why should I not ponder it, and try to
be ready when I am called ?
"Not
enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our
destined end or way;
But to
act that each to-morrow
Finds us
further than to-day.
"Let
us then be up and doing,
With a
heart for any fate;
Still
achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to
labor and to wait."
I remember the prayer of my parents that we--they and their
children--should also live that finally we might make an unbroken family
above, and to-day I offer a similar prayer: May the Lord grant to each
of us the same spirit, that all the families on earth may be saved! In
the evening I went a mile south of Blooming Valley to visit my aged
friend Mrs. Dickson, according to my
promise made to her son and daughter when I met them in Minnesota. I was
glad to find Mrs. Dickson well, and still able in her advanced years to
attend to her household duties; she was even able to be present last
Saturday at the funeral of George Dewey!
She had two lady visitors while I called--Mrs.
George Bush and Mrs. Hellyer--who added to the mutual
pleasantness of the visit. I left Mrs. Dickson's
about 10 o'clock for my own home, a walk of about two miles, and as I
plodded on my moonlit way I fell athinking about life's duties. What a
startling array of responsibilities does even a single day carry!
Probably no one studies his duty toward God and his fellowman better or
more profitably than he who realizes the fact that a day, gone, never
returns, and that we will be individually accountable for what we have
done and what we have left undone--for our sins of commission and sins
of omission.
On Wednesday, January 28, I attended the funeral
of Mrs. Ira Smith, of whose death I have
just made mention. She was interred in the Smith Cemetery, and the
services at the church and at the grave were conducted by Rev.
Hamilton McClintock.
Sunday, February 1.--Having, according to my usual custom,
walked to Meadville yesterday on business, I decided to remain over
Sunday, so went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Hires,
whom I can call "old friends," for I have known them both
since long before their marriage. I met some of their relatives in
Jamestown, N. Y., who requested me to call on them when I could, as I
had photographs of some of their friends to show them. Together we went
this forenoon to the First Presbyterian Church, and there listened to an
excellent sermon from the lips of Rev. Hays,
the regular pastor, whom I had heard once before--text, Matthew xiv: 31:
Wherefore didst thou doubt? After the service I bade my kind friends
adieu, and betook myself to Mr. Derby's, my regular stopping place in
Meadville. Then in the evening I attended the Baptist Church, where I
heard a very able discourse and appeal to the unconverted, the text
being Joel iii: 14: Multitudes, multitudes, in the valley of decision;
for the day of the Lord is near in the valley of decision. I love to
hear the Rev. W. H. Marshall preach the
Gospel, and I am never tired of standing on the housetops, figuratively
speaking, and proclaiming to the four quarters of the globe God's
immeasurable love toward mankind, and that the more we partake of His
love (and God is love) the more friendship and kindness will we exhibit
in ours. I often think of this; and yet the charity of the world is
cold. With the prophet Joel, I wish that multitudes, multitudes would
come to Christ, and be sheltered from the storms of life in a haven of
rest. Christ wants us all to preach His Gospel by leading lives of
devotion to Him. Come let us work in his vineyard now, to-day, ere we
find it too late; when to-morrow has come we may not be here.
"Work
for the night is coming;
Work,
through the morning hours;
Work,
while the dew is sparkling;
Work, mid
springing flowers;
Work,
when the day grows brighter,
Work in
the glowing sun;
Work, for
the night is coming,
When
man's work is done."
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