Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

I am very busy now on week-days preparing for delivery, and also delivering some of my SECOND SOUVENIRS, taking as many as thirty in one day to my neighbors, on foot. May the Lord bless them, and help me in the work, for I do not want to eat the bread of idleness. I wish to do something to help make the world better, and I think the most delicate, the most sensible of all pleasures consists in promoting the pleasures and happiness of others.

August 1.--I avail myself of the "Grangers' Excursion" to-day to Chautauqua, to take twenty copies of my SOUVENIR for distribution among friends in Jamestown, Chautauqua and other places. He who goes on a mission of good can not but be rewarded, for His promises, which never fail, are sure to be fulfilled. We are privileged to partake of as good fruit as the seed we sow can produce, and often better, for the seed literally is improved by cultivation. The personal effort of taking those twenty books seems so closely allied to me by nature that I can not exempt myself from it, and I do not wish the good I desire accomplished to be done in some indirect way, but rather to prove beyond a doubt my willingness personally to DO GOOD with my own hands, money, talent, and whatever else I may possess.

My intention was to return home from Jamestown on Saturday, August 2d, but while on my way, with valise in hand, to Mr. Colt's in the evening, whom should I overtake but Mr. Devenpeck, also carrying a valise, and Clara! "Well!" exclaimed I, as we cordially shook hands, "I'll not go home to-night, as I intended; I am so glad to have overtaken you, it is worth all my trip!" Our joy at meeting here in Jamestown was pure and unalloyed, like our friendship which is love refined and purged of all its dross. So it was truly a feast of good things to me to spend the Sabbath day, August 3, with such an aggregation of friends in Jamestown. In the forenoon Frank Simmons and I attended the M. E. Church and Sunday-school, hearing a good sermon from the lips of Prof. J. T. Edwards, of Randolph, N. Y., his subject being Naaman, who washed in the river Jordan seven times and was cleansed of the leprosy. I heard Prof. Edwards preach in June, last year, at Ottawa, Kas., and I was very glad of another opportunity of listening to his eloquent exposition of the Gospel. The afternoon was passed in social chat among relatives and friends, some ten or twelve in number, in the grateful shady grove adjoining the residence of Mr. Colt. I did not feel very well myself, so joined but little in the conversation, which afforded me a better chance to listen and opportunity to think; and on that refreshingly bright, balmy afternoon there naturally came to me such thoughts as were suggested to Rev. George Herbert when he penned his elegant Sabbath-Day reflections:

"O day, most calm, most bright!

The fruit of this, the next world's bud,

Th' endorsement of supreme delight,

Writ by a Friend, and with His blood;

The couch of time, care's balm and bay;

The week were dark but for thy light,

Thy torch doth show the way."

My time is still much occupied with my SECOND SOUVENIR distribution, and on Friday, August 8, George Cutshall drove me to Guy's Mills, where I left several books with friends and for the Sunday-schools; and on the home trip I stopped to see Hiram Baldwin, a very old acquaintance of mine, whom I had not met for years. His parents lived south of the State Road Church for many years before they moved away, and Hiram and I used to attend Sunday-school together; the parents both died in Erie County, Penn., the father, Aaron Baldwin, on April 19, 1881, aged 81 years, 2 months, 19 days, and the mother, Permelia Baldwin, on July 1, 1873, aged 63 years, 3 months, 18 days. On Saturday, August 9, I heard, incidentally, through a friend, in Meadville, of the death of Mrs. Morehead ("Aunt Polly"), but the date I could not find out; so I immediately set out for Kerrtown, where, on arrival, I learned that the funeral was to take place within an hour. I was thankful to have heard of it, even at the eleventh hour, but much regretted the absence of my brother, sons and other relatives. The interment took place in Denny's Cemetery, four miles northwest of Meadville, and the service was conducted by Rev. Hamilton McClintock, of Meadville, the text for his homily being Revelations xxi: 4: And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away. Robert Morehead was born March 12, 1802, and was twice married, first time March 19, 1835, to Sarah Dunn, by whom there was one son, James S., born August 28, 1836, died --; his second marriage was May 14, 1840, with Mary McKelvey, born October 6, 1807, died August 7, 1890 (fifty years married life with a second wife seldom occurs), and the record of the children is as follows: John C., born February 11, 1841; Robert W., born November 10, 1842; Lydia Ann, born November 17, 1844; Harriet E., born March 29, 1848, died --; of all these, Mrs. Sarah Morehead, James S. Morehead and Harriet E. Morehead were all interred in the old graveyard at Meadville, but years ago their remains were removed to the Denny Cemetery, where Mr. Morehead had purchased a lot. After the funeral I repaired to the home of my cousin, Robert A. Fergerson, where I remained till Monday, in the course of which time Uncle Robert Morehead came to dinner, and after the repast he and I walked a short distance about his place, talking and musing by the way; then we proceeded to his own house where we sat down to comfort each other. I was glad to find my aged uncle so well and cheerful under the circumstances, and had found grace in the Lord to help in this time of his great need. Later on, Mrs. Mary Fergerson, my cousin, came along, and we then went over to see her father, Mr. John Curry, who is unwell, and here I may mention that John Curry, a son of William Curry, died July 15, 1890, at the age of 16 years, 4 months. In the evening Mr. and Mrs. Fergerson and I called on Mr. and Mrs. Davis, where we spent the evening in a pleasant, profitable manner.

On Monday, August 11, I returned to Meadville, and after attending to some correspondence I recommenced on my SOUVENIR distribution, in which connection I am pleased to say I received not only much encouragement and profuse thanks, but also blessings which more than reward me in these, my efforts in seeking to benefit mankind. In delivering the books with my own hand I see and learn much of real life; and I love to visit homes of all sorts and conditions--homes of the high and low; homes of the rich and poor; homes of the learned and unlearned; in all of which I receive a warm and spontaneous welcome, for they know my sole object is to DO GOOD; and may the Lord and their prayers so keep me that I may be faithful in the work. A certain gentleman, a most worthy Christian, said to me to-day: "My son is so interested in your book that he is going to read it through from beginning to end," and another noble Christian, a lady, to whom I had presented a copy for her husband, and left one for her son with a message to that effect, replied: "Yes, I will hand it to him, many, many thanks." Others also say God bless you," while some enquire "How can you afford it?" "Well," I reply, "the good Lord has been blessing me all my life; my friends have always been kind, and now I feel I ought to do something." I rejoice to think there is a book of remembrance, and that kind acts will outlive our natural lives. May we never sow any bad seed [The several letters of acknowledgment and thanks, which I received, will be found in the Appendix to this SOUVENIR.].

August, 13.--To-day I set out across the fields in the direction of Saegertown, to deliver twenty copies of my SOUVENIR, carrying twelve in a valise and six in a hand-grip. I walked as far as the home of my nephew, Nick P. Waid, who drove me to Saegertown, by which time I had delivered ten copies. Here I received a hearty welcome from old friends; and I will confess I had another object in coming to Saegertown, and that was to attend the picnic held there by the State Road M. E. Church Sunday-school, and present to the pastor, scholars and others copies of my SOUVENIR. The picnic was well patronized and all went as merry as wedding bells.

August 16.--On handing a copy of my SOUVENIR, today to a friend in Meadville, he said in simple words: "I will never forget you." Days of my childhood and boyhood came at once into my thoughts; and I still have in my possession scraps of paper and some little memorandum books written on, one of which in particular is of good size and bears on the title page the following legend: "WRITE AND BE REMEMBERED," underneath which many of my schoolmates and others have written their names, date of birth etc., giving a specimen of their handwriting Now, the outcome of this is--They are remembered, and as my friend said, I wilt never forget them.

August 19.--My brother and I, with horse and buggy, and taking fifty copies of the SOUVENIR, set out from home this afternoon on what I might term a "delivery trip" to Little Cooley, Centerville, Titusville, etc. We first drove to Blooming Valley, where we commenced the work of our mission, and the many kind friends who greeted us on our journey (a most pleasant one indeed to both of us), were too numerous to name. The towns or villages we stopped at after leaving home were Blooming Valley, New Richmond, Little Cooley (where we visited W. V. Wheeler [Mr. Wheeler is a brother-in-law of R. L. Waid], who was very ill, and whom we saw for the last time; near Little Cooley we stopped over night, with my nephew, Orlando Waid), Townville, Tryonville, Centerville, Titusville, Grand Valley, Sanford, East Branch, Spartansburg and Riceville; then back to Little Cooley, and so home. At Titusville we saw our old friends, Asa and Elizabeth Davis, the latter of whom is a daughter of William Smith, once a near neighbor of ours, and to whose place I was taken in infancy in order to be inducted into the art of eating bread and butter, in other words--weaned. Mrs. Davis reminded me of it to-day, by saying "I used to hold you in my arms, I could not do it now; I am sixty-six, but I did it once upon a time." So ended my short Warren County trip, delightful in all respects, and very profitable.

On August 22, at the home of the bride's parents, were married Rev. G. S. W. Phillips (a second cousin of mine) and Miss Clara Smith of Meadville, toward the former of whom I feel myself much attracted, as I think him an excellent, industrious young man. He studied with much diligence both at the Normal School, Edinboro, Erie Co., Penn., and at Allegheny College, Meadville, from which latter he graduated in the class of 1890. I would like here to add a word of comfort for his mother who has taken such a deep interest in his welfare and in his education. I think no little sacrifice has been made, and no pains have been spared in helping him along in his course of study for the ministry; and I pray that the Lord may continue His blessing on both families, and prosper the young man. To these two families--the "old" and the "new "--I presented a copy of my SOUVENIR, and also to several other specially respected and beloved friends, such as Alfred Huidekoper (of whose father, H. J. Huidekoper, my grandfather and father bought the homestead farm), Elizabeth Huidekoper, Hon. William Reynolds (whose father, John Reynolds, paid me the first dollar I ever owned, which was for wild strawberries I sold him) and others.

On August 30 I met in Meadville my aged Christian friend, Ross Lane, and passed our usual kindly greetings, heartily shaking hands. We spoke kindly and seemingly more tenderly to each other than we had ever done before, which might be interpreted into premonitions of some impending calamity; but, be that as it may, it was the last time we were destined to meet on earth, for next day, Sunday, at noon, Mr. Lane died in the M. E. Church in Meadville. The account that I received of this sudden and melancholy taking away was in substance as follows: Mr. Lane went to church as usual, listened to the sermon, went to his class, gave his testimony, sat down and (in the words of his pastor, Dr. Hall, when he gave out in the evening the announcement of the death) "fell asleep." Brother Ross Lane was a member of our church at State Road, and his brother Isaiah, a Methodist preacher, assisted in the protracted meetings during 1850-51, at the same church.

Sunday, August 31.--I was glad to learn that Rev. W. H. Marshall, Baptist minister, had returned from his trip to Europe, as I have always profited much by his sermons and had a desire to hear him once more. And my wish was gratified this forenoon, for, in company with Mr. Derby, I attended the Baptist Church in Meadville, where we listened to a most interesting discourse by Mr. Marshall, his subject being Matthew xxviii: 20: And, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen. How I would like to dwell on the good things spoken of in this sermon, and tell of the help I received from it! At the Sunday-school I was invited with my friend into Mrs. Wallace's Bible class, and while reciting we had the benefit of advice and instruction from Mr. Marshall on the lesson. I was pleased to see present Mr. Luce and other friends whom I met at church. In the afternoon I went to prayer meeting at State Street M. E. Church, and in the evening attended the First M. E. Church, where I had the pleasure of listening to an excellent sermon from the lips of Dr. C. E. Hall, his subject being "Building," his text taken from the advice given, by David to his son, Solomon, about the building of the temple. Dr. Hall is deserving of my heartfelt thanks for his interest manifested in my welfare. How is it that ever since I first saw and made the acquaintance of this good man at the funeral of my aunt, Eliza Phillips, July 25, 1887, at Townville, Penn., I have been continually attracted toward him? His sermons, his friendship, his presence and help have had a truly wonderful influence in building me up in the faith of the Gospel. I have a right to say I love him. When I grasped his hand in the vestibule of the church this evening I said to him: "Dr. Hall, I love to shake your hand, in it is the grasp of friendship; let me thank Christ and respect you for thus honoring me."

On the following Tuesday I attended the funeral of the late Ross Lane, the services being held in the church in which he expired, Dr. Hall and Dr. T. L. Flood officiating. Thus ended the days of a good Christian man, one ripe in years like a shock of corn that cometh in in its season. He passed suddenly away (and he often expressed a wish to so die) in the service of the Lord, from his church on earth to his eternal home in Heaven, honored of God and beloved by men for his Christian character. Not long since I met him on the street in Meadville, and after greetings he said to me. "Brother Waid, over fifty years ago I gave my heart to the Lord, at which time I was a wild, reckless young man. The good Lord tamed me, and I have been tamed ever since." What a sermon! How true in my own experience! The Meadville Daily Tribune of September 12, 1890, gives the following account of Mr. Lane's sudden decease, and pays to his memory an elegant tribute:

HE DIED HAPPY.

DEATH OF THE VENERABLE ROSS LANE AT THE FIRST M. E. CHURCH.

The community was startled Sunday afternoon when it was announced that Ross Lane, one of the oldest citizens of Meadville, was dead, he having passed peacefully away while attending class meeting after the regular service at the first M. E. Church. Mr. Lane was as well as usual, early in the morning, and had remarked that the day was a glorious one, just before the hour for church service arrived. He listened intently to the sermon, and appeared to be in a happy frame of mind. After church he found his way to the classroom and attended the meeting presided over by Mr. D. R. Coder. Mr. Lane arose and related his experience with much earnestness, saying that he was firm in the faith, and felt that the Lord was with him. As Mr. Lane sat down it was noticed that his body was swaying, and finally he rested his head on a chair, a groan escaping from his lips. His head was bowed longer than usual, and when those present went to his assistance it was found that life was gone. He had passed away without a struggle, and all efforts at resuscitation were unavailing. Later the body was removed to the residence of F. E. Wilson, No. 990 South Liberty Street, where Mr. Lane had made his home during the past four years.

The writer is without the necessary information for an obituary notice, except a few words concerning Mr. Lane's life, dropped during conversation at various times. He was born in the State of New York in the year 1806, and followed the business of lumbering in early life. More than a half century ago he came to Crawford County, and an ordinary lifetime was spent in Meadville. Several years ago he retired from active duty, but as his health was good for one of his years, he was able to appear on the streets daily, and always had a cheerful greeting and pleasant word for his friends. He was always a Methodist, and no man was ever more strict in his attendance on divine service. Even when his body became somewhat feeble, and his eye dim, he was always in his pew in church at the proper time. He lived a consistent Christian life, and his faith in the promises of his Maker never faltered. We have never known a man whose belief in the reality of religion was more intense or earnest. His was a life of never wavering faith, and he was a servant who was never untrue to his Master. He had often expressed the wish that the end of his life might come suddenly, and he dreaded the thought that he might become weak in mind and body, and linger on a bed of sickness long before the vital spark should finally go out. Had he been given the power to choose when and where he should die, he would undoubtedly have said: "Let me be called to my rest on the Lord's day, in the church which I have always loved."

Those who have no faith in the theory that the Supreme Ruler is mindful of His creatures, and grants their wishes, might learn a valuable lesson from the death of the man who was known among the members of his church as Father Lane. On Sunday, August 24, he attended class meeting, and among other things said: "I can only hope to live to once more give my testimony for God." This wish was gratified, and after being once more permitted to declare his faith in Divine goodness, he was called hence. His death removes an old and highly respected citizen. Mr. Lane's wife died several years ago, and of his family but one is living--Mrs. George H. Hamilton, at present a resident of Jefferson, Ohio.

The Meadville Tribune, in speaking of the late Ross Lane, says, he "was a Methodist, and no man was ever more strict in his attendance on Divine service." This reminds me of my mother--of how she loved the house of the Lord, and of how faithfully she sought all the means of grace; yes, and found them too. She visited the sick, and soothed their sufferings; she was present at funerals, and wept over dear departed friends; she was constant in her attendance at church, and prayed devoutly, for all mankind; in all of which duties I, also, desire to be regular, for the Lord comforts my heart in being faithful in His service. How appropriate was that sheaf of wheat that lay on the plain coffin, wherein rested all that was mortal of Ross Lane! The good pastor said in his discourse that had he selected a text for the occasion it would have been Job v: 26: Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season. I went to the cemetery, where I lingered for a brief space to meditate and see the last respects paid to this aged pilgrim, whose cheerful voice we shall never hear again, and whose happy face we shall see no more on earth. Good-night till the blessed Resurrection Morn dawns on an Eternal Day! Peaceful is the repose of those who slumber in the Lord!

Before leaving Greendale Cemetery I visited other dear resting places, among them that of Dr. David Best, whose new monument brought to my recollection the occasion of his funeral which my wife, Eliza, and I attended. On a certain elegant monument I read this inscription:

THEY HAVE AWAKENED ME FROM THE

DREAM OF LIFE.

This was surmounted by an angelic figure beautiful to behold.

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