In the evening I heard Hon.
A. B. Richmond lecture, in Psychological Hall, Meadville, on the
question, "Is Spiritualism a religion?" the lecturer's
arguments being on the affirmative side.
May 11.--In the afternoon I attended the funeral of an old
friend, Mrs. Adam Morris, who passed away in her seventy-fourth year,
the death of whose husband, Adam Morris, is
mentioned at page 232, SECOND SOUVENIR. Mrs. Morris had of late been
living with her daughter and son-in-law, Mr. and
Mrs. Abbott, near Waterford, Erie Co., Penn., and her funeral was
from the Wilson school-house, in our township, to the Long Cemetery,
myself being one of the pall-bearers; Rev. H.
McClintock officiated, as he also did on the occasion of Mr.
Morris' funeral. From the cemetery I went to Saegertown, to visit my
friend, Mr. G. Floyd, who is in rather poor
health at present. On the following day I paid another visit to the
County Farm to see Mr. and Mrs. George Cutshall, superintendent
and matron, respectively, of the Alms House; then as I came through
Germantown I called on my recently married niece, Jennie,
my brother George's youngest daughter, my
first visit there since her marriage. Other relatives and friends I also
dropped in to say "good-day" to, among them being my near
neighbor, Mr. Miller, who has been so long
ill, and whose wife, Sarah, was badly
injured last Saturday by being thrown from a buggy at the bridge across
Woodcock Creek, while driving along with her son. In the house I found
the daughter, Mrs. James Titus, and
daughter-in-law, Mrs. George Miller, kindly
caring for the aged couple in their affliction. In the evening I dropped
in to see Mr. Jay Harris and Mr. Rider, at
both of whose homes I was pleasantly entertained, particularly by Mr.
Harris and his musical family.
May 15.--To-day the new large bank barn, 46x64 feet in
dimensions, part two stories and part three stories in height, was
raised on the place where my son, Franklin I.,
now lives, and known as the Goodrich Farm. There was plenty of help,
though farmers are pretty busy, about fifty being present, forty three
of whom sat down to dinner, ten remaining after 3 P. M. to complete some
of the work. The hand of the diligent not only maketh rich, but doeth a
great deal of labor! What a number of barn raisings, besides other
buildings, and "bees" did my father and his family help on in
days past! And now to his grandchildren the labor is being returned. No
one can say, truly, that a kind act is never rewarded. It pays to do
good. No farmer can raise a crop without sowing the seed, unless it be
the crop of idleness, that bringeth shame.
Sunday, May 17.--I attended State
Street M. E. Church, this forenoon, and heard a good sermon from our
pastor, Rev. J. H. Laverty, the subject
being '' Liberality," and the text, 2 Corinthians ix: 13. In the
afternoon Mr. Derby accompanied me to the funeral of Dr.
C. M. Yates, an old citizen of Meadville. He had recently been
living at Baltimore, Md., where he died at the advanced age of
eighty-eight years, and his body was brought to Meadville for interment
in Greendale Cemetery, the services being conducted by Rev.
Rogers Israel, pastor of the Protestant Episcopal Church (Christ
Church), under the auspices of the Freemasons. In the evening my friend
and I attended the Baptist Church, where we listened to Rev.
W. H. Marshall's exposition of the narrative about Joseph's first
imprisonment.
May 20.--To-day, at their home in Guy's Mills, was celebrated
the" Silver Wedding" of Charles and
Nancy Wygant, and as a matter of course I was one of the many who
were present, walking all the way, some seven miles, in preference to
driving. They were married May 20, 1866, by Rev.
Eberman, in State Road M. E. Church; and I remember (for I was
present at this wedding) that on the same day, at our church, Rev.
James Wygant, Charles' father, married Homer
Elsworth and his bride. The guests at this silver wedding were
numerous and happy, "a right merrie companie," as our
great-grand-parents would have called it, and about each of the seven
ages of man were represented--from childhood to senility. They enjoyed a
rich repast, fine music (both vocal and instrumental), stirring
speeches--in short, "had a good old-fashioned time," and at
the close each returned to his or her home in a very happy mood. For
myself, I left Mr. Wygant's about 4 P. M.,
and proceeded to Mr. P. M. Cutshall's, some
three miles from Guy's Mills, where I made a brief visit, and then
concluded my homeward journey.
May 21, 22, 23.--Sweet, refreshing showers have come to us, most
welcome to the parched soil and thirsty growth of the land, so much in
need of the reviving influence of rain. All nature seems to praise the
Lord, and why should not man join in the glad song, and the tribute of
His praise prolong?
We have
no tears Thou wilt not dry;
We have
no wounds Thou wilt not heal;
No
sorrows pierce our human hearts
That
Thou, dear Father, dost not feel.
Thy pity
like the dew distils,
And Thy
compassion, like the light,
Our every
morning overfills,
And
crowns with stars our every night."
Sunday, May 24.--This forenoon I attended the First
Presbyterian Church, Rev. K. C. Hays,
pastor; text from I John iii: 2: We shall be like Him, for we shall see
Him as He is. In the afternoon C. R. Slocum
accompanied me to a temperance meeting held in the First M. E. Church;
address by Mrs. M. B. Ross, of
Cambridgeboro, Penn., president of the W. C. T. U., and sketches of
temperance workers, by Miss Warner--noble
women in the cause. Then, in the evening, in the same M. E. Church, were
held the Memorial Services of the G. A. R., a very large audience being
assembled, who attentively listened, I will venture to say, to one of
the most interesting and eloquent discourses they ever had the pleasure
of hearing. Rev. W. H. Marshall, of the
Baptist Church, Meadville, who delivered it, chose for his text the
exhortation of Paul the Apostle to Timothy, to do the duty of a faithful
servant of the Lord: Thou, therefore, endure hardness, as a good soldier
of Jesus Christ. What a practical lesson was drawn from this text, and
how faithfully was it set forth by the reverend lecturer! It seemed to
me like scattering seed on good ground, and I pray that what fell on my
heart may bear fruit abundantly in Christ's name.
May 26.--As we were requiring about 40,000 shingles to cover
the new barn my son is building, I accompanied him and his hired man,
with two teams, to Little Cooley, where I purchased of Mr.
Thomas F. Smith, at his saw and shingle mill, 40,000 good pine
shingles--8,000 shaved, 32,000 sawed. I think it was in 1848 that my
father built our horse barn, and well do I remember working on it, the
following incident coming fresh to my memory: My brother,
Lyman, and Justus Goodwill took the Masiker
girls, Jane and Eliza, to the circus and
menagerie, then exhibiting in Meadville, while I remained behind to help
shingle the barn, a something in our experiences that my first wife and
I often spoke of afterward. This old barn was built of durable material,
the original roof, never reshingled, being yet sound, proof enough that
my honest friend, Thomas F. Smith,
manufactures good shingles, and I told him so to-day, which gratified
him as much as it pleased me. We loaded up our shingles in good shape,
and started for home, stopping, near Cooley, at the farm home of my
nephew Orlando Waid, with whom I had some
business, and as he was raising his bank barn, 30x40 feet in size, we
were in good season to give him, along with my brother who was there
also, a lift on part of the basement story. Then, continuing on our way
homeward with our loads, we halted at New Richmond to see a relative, Mrs.
Silas Clark, who has been an invalid from dropsy several years,
and is now very poorly indeed. As I shook hands with her and introduced
my son, she said: "Franklin, I have
not seen you since you were married,'' which somewhat surprised me; how
time does fly! "What! he was married March 15, 1877, and you have
not seen one another since!" So we pursue the journey of life, some
of us only meeting friends a few times here below. Starting our teams
once more, we made direct for home, only halting a brief space to see my
uncle, Horace Waid, and make a passing call
in Blooming Valley.
May 28.--Just thirty-seven years ago to-day my twin brother Franklin
died, but his memory yet lives. We journeyed life together a little over
twenty-one years, and much of our joint experience has been,
figuratively speaking, written in indelible ink, that never can be
effaced from the tablets of my memory.
May 29.--There died this morning an old citizen of Blooming
Valley (a resident since 1865), in the person of Mr.
J. T. Odell, aged eighty years; funeral on Sunday at 2 P. M.;
services at the M. E. Church. The road tax in our district is now being
worked, my son, Fred, being path master,
and as our new road machine, a scraper, called "Western
Reversible," seems to work very well, we will likely have even
better roads than usual, although, for a long time back, our township
road, from Blooming Valley (State Road) to the Mead Township line,
nearly a mile, has been really good. Clean roads please the farmer, and
speed the traveler on his way, and as we ruralists like to see clean
streets in cities or towns when we visit them, so townspeople, when they
come out to see Nature's garden, and inhale the sweet breath of Heaven,
delight in rambling along neat, well-kept roads. "In rural
life," says Washington Irving, "there is nothing mean and
debasing. It leads a man forth among scenes of natural grandeur and
beauty; it leaves him to the workings of his mind, operated upon by the
purest and most elevating of external influences." This is what
gives the charm to country life, and nothing can detract from it save
ragged-looking roads, dilapidated fences, and, ill-kept farms.
May 30, DECORATION DAY.--A year ago to-day I was in Cleveland,
Ohio, attending the dedication of the Garfield Monument, and to-day I
enjoy the pleasure of spending Decoration Day in Meadville, visiting
Greendale Cemetery, beautifully decorated with flowers and little flags,
loving tributes to the memory of our silent heroes. In the afternoon a
large concourse of people, including Peifer Post,
G. A. R., was assembled to listen to the excellent address delivered by Rev.
Dr. T. C. Beach, of the First M. E. Church, who was introduced to
the audience with a few remarks by Dr. T. L.
Flood. In honoring the memory of the brave soldiers who bled and
died to save our Union from dismemberment, we must not forget to honor
the good God who has given to the world a Christian land like ours.
Sunday, May 31.--I
attended two funerals to-day, services for both being held in the M.
E. Church, Blooming Valley. The first one (in the forenoon) was that of
a child of Mr. and Mr. Leonard Smith,
nearly five years old; sermon by Rev. V. F. Duncle,
pastor; text Job xxxvii: 21: And now men see not the bright light which
is in the clouds; but the wind passeth and cleanseth them; the interment
took place in the Smith Cemetery. How very dark it is here sometimes
amidst our afflictions! And yet to the believer, to the true Christian,
how radiant and resplendent appears everything beyond the conflicts of
this life! He can realize how graciously God in His mercy deals with us
here that we may be saved. The other funeral (in the afternoon) was that
of J. T. Odell, whose death I have already
referred to; sermon by Rev. W. H. Farrault,
of Saegertown; text 2 Corinthians v: 8: We are confident, I say, and
willing rather to be absent from, the body, and to be present with the
Lord. At the cemetery, Blooming Valley, I observed that Eliza's
grave had been decorated the previous day by kind hands, showing that
her memory yet lives in warm hearts other than my own [I want to say,
the Lord bless them]. "Sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from
which we refuse to be divorced."
June 3.--Among other letters I received one to-day from Bishop
Willard F. Mallalieu, of New Orleans, the third I have been
favored with from him, and I have to thank him for the interest he takes
in my welfare in presenting an earnest appeal for aid toward the
endowment of eight professorships in the medical college at New Orleans.
I here give copy of the letter:
New Orleans, LA., May 29, 1891.
MY DEAR BROTHER: Yours of April 10 is now before me. The book has
also been received, for which please accept my thanks. I have looked it
through with interest--it is a SOUVENIR indeed! I shall place it in the
library of the New Orleans University, where I trust it may remain for
many years and generations. I am glad to know that God blessed you at
Oil City Conference. It was a glorious season. I trust all our
Conferences may be like it, only better and better as the years go on. I
send with this a slip which will give you an idea of what I am trying to
do. I want to endow eight professorships in our medical college. It will
take $10,000 to endow any one of them. I wish you would take one, and
give it your family name, or your own name in full. If you really desire
to do good there is no better chance. The people for whom I plead are
very poor, and have few friends. I hope God will put it into your heart
to do what I ask. In this way, and for Christ's sake, you can visit the
sick. It will be a better and more enduring monument than marble or
bronze.
Very truly yours,
W. F. MALLALIEU.
I quote one sentence from the "slip" spoken of by the
Bishop as enclosed to me: "Never from its portals shall any one be
excluded on account of race, color, religion or sex." I confess I
am glad to have had this matter brought to my notice, and am anxious to
give the subject careful consideration, with the hope that with God's
assistance I may arrive at a wise conclusion.
June 5.--The boys (my sons) and myself have been as "busy
as bees," my own work consisting in mowing the door-yards, etc.,
whitewashing some pear and ornamental trees and shrubs, helping shingle,
to-day, Franklin's new barn, and, while the
scaffolding was being removed, I finished trimming and scraping the
apple trees in the orchard (Goodrich Farm) [The job of pruning the three
orchards for the boys I began several weeks ago, and was really glad to
finish it]. Then after all this was done, boy-like I wanted to do not
only a little more but something by which this day might be remembered;
so I held a sort of formal opening of the New Barn by taking the
wheelbarrow and putting in a load of old hay, and another of new-mown
(cut to-day), remarking, as I did so, to my sons and others: "You
can remember who put in the first hay into the new barn." And yet
this was not so much for the sake of my son as for his children (my four
little grandchildren), something that some of them might perchance
remember and interpret, when I am gone, as a simple lesson in industry
and carefulness. While I was engaged in mowing, a passing neighbor said
to me: "I saw you do that forty years ago when working with your
uncle, William Morehead, on your father's
farm, and you have not yet forgot how!" "No," I replied,
"I enjoy it now, and am glad I am able to continue in the business.
I want to mow the door-yards for the boys, and help do the hand-mowing,
trimming and so forth with the scythe."
June 6.--Came to Meadville on business, and in the evening
went to see my uncle and other relatives in Vernon, four miles west of
the town, remaining till Monday. During my visit my cousin,
R. A. Fergerson, accompanied me to Geneva, and I had the pleasure
of calling on an old schoolmate, David Smith,
whom I do not remember having met in many years; also saw his brother
Peter, another schoohmate, and ere we left Geneva my cousin and I made
yet another call on Mr. Harrison, a distant
relative whom I have wished to see many years. While at Mr.
Fergerson's I paid a visit to his father-in-law, Mr.
John Curry, now nearly four-score years old, and very unwell at
present; also saw my uncle, living near by, who is in his ninetieth
year. On my way home on Monday, and while in Meadville, my cousin, S.
Phillips, informed me of the death of his son's wife, which
occurred that same morning at her sister's in Hancock, whither she and
her husband, Leslie Phillips, had recently
gone on account of her failing health. The funeral and services were
held at Port Jarvis, N. Y., her former home. It is only a few weeks ago
since I saw her, for the last time, at her father-in-law's house, but
she was quite ill then, so her demise was not altogether unexpected. She
was a most estimable, Christian woman. Our house, the "Old
Home," is being repainted white, blinds green, just as it was first
painted by my father in 1845; and I wish to help my son and the painter,
Mr. Albion Bowman, on that, as I do on everything else about the
place, for I do not want to be called a "retired farmer,"
while health, strength and courage remain to me. It is surely a
pardonable pride that prompts me to say that I can still do farm labor,
shingle, paint or look for a job at any other kind of work I can do. How
good, indeed, it is for us if we can but labor and be contented within
the limits of our occupations, making ourselves useful at whatever we
can do.
June 11.--I went to-day to assist at the raising of Mr.
David Roberts' bank barn (44x52), to me a pleasant duty, and
there was a good turn-out; plenty of help--over sixty at dinner (I
think), and more to follow to lend a willing hand in the afternoon.
Leaving Mr. Roberts' place [I would here say that Mr. Roberts has now
one of the best barns in this section of the county; but he is noted for
doing things well. There are larger barns, but this seems a model one],
I proceeded to Meadville, where I received my mail, and one letter, from
my cousin, Frank Simmons, brought me the
sad news of the death of Mrs. Martha Cobb, which
occurred at 6 o'clock this morning. Another communication was bright and
sunshiny--an invitation to a wedding, as follows: "Mrs.
C. A. Wheeler requests your presence at the marriage of her
daughter, Mertie Maud, to Albert
E. Sherman, June 24, 1891, at eight o'clock, at her residence,
No. 340 Footes Avenue, Jamestown, N. Y." During my short stay in
Meadville I called on Mr. S. Phillips,
where I met a relative, Miss Clara Arnold,
of Townsville, Penn., who had been residing about six months in East
Tennessee, for the benefit of her health, and was on her way home; also
had a brief visit at C. R. Slocum's.
June 13.--Am in Jamestown, N. Y., having come to attend the
funeral of my cousin, Mrs. Martha Cobb,
announced for to-morrow, Sunday, but which, for some reason, took place
to-day, before my arrival. Mrs. Cobb was born May 2, 1833, so was just
nine days younger than myself. Rev. A. C. Ellis,
pastor of the M. E. Church at Jamestown, officiated at the funeral. The
electric street railway is now opened in Jamestown, and one can ride to
Dexterville or the boat landing in a magnificently-appointed car,
propelled by the mystic force of electricity. I understand the road to
Lakewood, five miles, will soon be completed, at which time Jamestown
will be able to boast of ten or twelve miles of electric railway.
Sunday, June 14.--Attended the Episcopal Church at Jamestown
along with Vernon Wheeler and his sister, Gertie;
afterward, while on my way to Mr. Simmons', I stepped into the M. E.
Church, where were being held "Children's Day" services, which
I much enjoyed; then went with Mr. Simmons to look at the new Baptist
Church, not yet quite completed, so they are holding services in the
Sunday-school, and I found it was also "Children's Day" there.
At 3 P. M. I attended the laying of the foundation stone of the Swedish
Church; thence went to the cemetery to view the last resting place of Mrs.
Martha Cobb and of Uncle and Aunt Simmons, whereon have recently
been placed tombstones. A call in the evening on Mr.
Hezekiah Williams closed this summer Sabbath day.
June 16.--Left Jamestown yesterday evening for Union City, where I
remained over night with my friend J. Housenick,
and this morning, being most desirous of attending the raising of Mr.
George Hamilton's barn, I took train for Saegertown, whence I
walked to the County Farm, one and one-half miles, as I wished to see my
brother-in-law and his wife; thence walked to my home, about four and
one-half miles, in the heat of the day, changed my clothes, had dinner
and was off to the barn-raising. My three sons were all busy at Little
Cooley, baling hay, but my daughters-in-law, Maggie
and Minnie, had gone to the "bee" before I reached
home, so they were helpful to us by assisting Mrs.
Hamilton, along with other willing women workers, in getting
ready the meals etc. It was an all-day raising, as the barn was 45x96
feet, requiring from forty-five to fifty hands, besides women and
children, and so I was late in getting to the spot; but, as some one
present remarked, the Waids were "well represented," as there
were present my brother, G. N., and his
sons, also my nephew, Nick P., besides my
daughters-in-law and myself.
Sunday, June 21.--Having come to Meadville yesterday on
business, as I usually do on Saturdays, I remained over night at Mr.
Derby's, having heard that the Memorial services for Mrs.
Estella Phillips would be held to-day in the Baptist Church, and
I wished to attend. With several members of the Phillips family I
accordingly went to the church, and I am truly glad I did so, as the
services were impressive and touching in the extreme. The good pastor, Rev.
W. H. Marshall, chose for his text Revelations xiv: 13: And I
heard a voice from Heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead
which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they
may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them; and in his
sermon he spoke most feelingly of the deceased; of her exemplary life;
of her uniting with the church at Port Jervis, N. Y., and being baptized
at the age of about fifteen, over a score of years ago. The bereaved
husband has the sympathy of all, but what blessed consolation must come
in the thought that his wife, Estella, left
the world a Christian, to dwell in the house of the Lord
forever--Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.
In the afternoon I went to "Children's Day" service at the
M. E. African Church, where an interesting programme was well carried
out, at the close of which I, as a visitor, was called upon to say a few
words to the children, which I did, and afterward in a little more
substantial manner aided their cause by doubling the collection, making
the gross amount $3.14. Then a vote of thanks for my visit, and an
invitation to "come again" closed the happy proceedings. In
the evening I attended the First M. E. Church, where Rev.
Dr. Moore, editor of the Western Christian Advocate, delivered an
eloquent sermon for the benefit of the Allegheny College Young Men's
Christian Association, the subject being John, the Baptist, in prison,
and Christ on His mission on earth, preaching the doctrine of
everlasting life.
June 23.--Yesterday my uncle Robert
Morehead (now, as already related, nearly ninety years old) and
his daughter came to visit me, and glad I was of it, for I was wishing
to have him come and see me once more before I take my departure for the
West. After supper I drove my uncle to Blooming Valley, in order to make
a call on my niece, Mrs. Iowa Joslin, and
after a short interview we returned home, having enjoyed a very pleasant
drive. This morning we called on our nearest neighbor, Mrs.
Mary Kiser, who is a few months older than my uncle, and has been
in failing health for a long time. Paid visits to the homes of my other
two sons; drove down to the County Farm to give our regards to Julia, a
relative; then called on my brother, and afterward on my nephew Nick
P., where we had supper before returning homeward, when I drove
him to Blooming Valley, whither his daughter had gone to see Mr.
Ploof, a relative. Thus ended what to me was a memorable visit,
one recalling pleasant old-time associations, not unmixed with regretful
remembrances; for as my aged relative and I viewed the old home of my
boyhood and earlier manhood, and chatted about the days of long ago, my
life history seemed to pass before me like a moving panoramic view,
bright and gloomy scenes alternately passing before my mental eye---here
a ray of joy, there a cloud of sorrow; here a noontide radiance, there a
midnight darkness, till I found my thoughts unconsciously dwelling on my
dead wife, and wandering away to the beautiful valley of Eden;
"Beautiful
valley of Eden!
Sweet is
thy noontide calm;
Over the
hearts of the weary,
Breathing
thy waves of balm.
"Over
the heart of the mourner
Shineth
thy golden day,
Wafting
the songs of the angels
Down from
the far away.
"Beautiful
valley of Eden,
Home of
the pure and blessed!
How oft'
amid the wild billows
I dream
of thy rest sweet rest!"
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