Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

Early next morning, after a call on Mr. Colt, I returned to Meadville, a little late, to attend Allegheny College Commencement (class of '91) exercises, held in the First M. E. Church, and of which the following is a copy of the programme:

PROGRAMME.

MUSIC, ORCHESTRA.

PRAYER.

Immigration, R. T. Adams.

The New Republic, Howard A. Couse.

Experience as a Factor in Life, C. C. Freeman.

MUSIC, ORCHESTRA.

Is War a Relic of the Past? John A. Gibson.

The Ends we Seek, Gertrude V. Household.

The Philosopher of Rotterdam, Charles L. Howe.

MUSIC, ORCHESTRA.

Russian Nihilism, Clarence F. Ross.

The Woman of the Twentieth Century, Mary Warner.

"The Grand Old Man," Homer D. Whiteficld.

"Human Equation," William W. Youngman.

MUSIC, ORCHESTRA.

CONFERRING OF DEGREES.

Everything connected with these exercises passed off surpassingly well, and I would that space permitted me to dwell on them more fully. I can not speak too highly of President Wheeler's address to the "Class of '91," numbering twenty-nine members, coming from many States. I believe it surpassed anything of the kind I had ever heard--so rich was it, so rare, so full of good things overflowing with noble encouragements and lasting benedictions. All the numbers on the programme were finely rendered, and the audience returned to their homes more than favorably impressed with the day's proceedings.

June 27.--This morning I spent several hours working in the old garden wherein, no doubt, my twin brother and myself did some little child-work half a century ago. But it is more of those who taught me by their example how to love labor--my parents--that I am reminded--on the farm in general, of my father; in the garden, in particular, of my mother, for while she was young, or in middle life, yes, or even during the last year of her pilgrimage on earth, when seventy-seven years of age, she would be found diligently working in this same old garden where now I find myself with hoe in hand, assisted by my daughter-in-law, Annie, Guinnip's wife, and their four-year-old daughter, Edna, both industrious to the great discomfiture of the weeds, my little granddaughter very enthusiastic over her modicum. So here I have work and pleasure combined, everything to be thankful for, and in my heart I sing for very joy.

After dinner the barn-raising on the farm of Edmond Ellis, a friend and neighbor, gave me some more pleasant work [I am told Mr. Clark Ellis attended the first barn-raising thirty-five years ago, and some others who helped at the raising then were present. Mr. Ellis was (I understand) fifty-two on the day of the barn-raising]. This structure, which in 35x15 feet, was originally built thirty-five years ago on what is known as the Wilks Farm, and Edmond and his father, Clark Ellis, undertook to move and repair the same, but before they got it completed a storm came and blew the barn down, reducing it to a perfect wreck. It was no small job to sort out the ruin and rebuild, so when all was ready for the raising I was only too glad to give what assistance I could. It was heavy work, for the timber used in building barns years ago was much heavier than nowadays, but there were plenty of willing hands and the job of putting the frame up was completed before supper, after which I walked (in company with Mr. Ephraim Williams, carpenter, who was overseer of the work) to Meadville where I remained, as usual, over Sunday. Brother Williams was formerly a member of State Road M. E. Church, and lived here many years before going to Meadville. No wonder I loved him as a Christian brother and could enjoy a walk and chat five miles with him when our day's work was done!

Sunday, June 28.--Attended the Second Presbyterian Church, where I heard an excellent sermon from the lips of Dr. D. H. Wheeler, president of Allegheny College, who is filling the appointment here at present, Dr. Edwards, the regular pastor, being in poor health. The text, Matthew xi: 28: Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest, was ably interpreted by the learned Doctor who not only made but also left a lasting impression on his attentive hearers. As for my individual self, I had labored all the week, and was tired in body and weary in mind, much in need of rest and spiritual food, and here I found both. My soul was refreshed and blessed with the words of the text, and the invitation and promises held out to the weary. I had found what was wanting--rest, peace, life and salvation, the fruits of the spirit, joy and gladness--and I went forth from the church, a thankful Christian, to continue life's journey with renewed vigor and all the more zeal as yet other words of comfort came to my thoughts: Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am weak and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls; for my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Ever the same good soul-reviving old story.

"Tell me the old, old story

Of unseen things above,

Of Jesus and His glory,

Of Jesus and His love.

"Tell me the story softly,

With earnest tones, and grave;

Remember! I'm the sinner

Whom Jesus came to save."

June 30.--There are certain things we cling to more or less tenaciously as we pass our days on earth, for instance, life, home, friends and our earlier day associations; we cling to the business that brings us our daily bread; we cling to property that we may have something against a "rainy day," something to help us when old age or sickness comes to us--something to help our children, something to do good with. So there are many things to which we cling, for we, every one of us, need support now, and assuredly will all the more in the future. But what is the best thing to cling to most tenaciously? what is the best to choose? what; best pays? what brings us the largest income as our days and years go on? What is the best inheritance we can leave our children? Not wealth, but a good name, a Christian character.

Such were my thoughts this morning as I was reading a chapter from the Book of Books, and I found my answer to all these questions as ready as it is simple--Cling to the Bible, cling to the Truth, cling to Christ. O what support, what comfort, what peace and satisfaction there is in building on the one sure foundation! How I love to peruse the pages of that good old Book! I do not know how often the word "blessed" occurs in the Bible, but I do know that I love that single word as used in the good Book and pronounced by Christ in His sermon on the Mount, so many times especially in the first twelve verses of Matthew v, where it occurs no less than nine times. I love that portion of this ever-memorable sermon so much that I have committed it to writing in my Diary, words I learned at Sunday-school when a child, and now, over fifty years later, are bringing me comfort, peace and a prospect of Heaven.

1. And seeing the multitude, He went up into a mountain; and when He was set His disciples came unto Him.

2. And He opened His mouth, and taught them, saying,

3. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for their's is the kingdom of heaven.

4. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.

5. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

6. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.

7. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

8. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

9. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.

10. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness sake, for their's is the kingdom of heaven.

11. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

12. Rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven; for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

This word "blessed" has so much attraction for me that I can not refrain from quoting a few other passages of Scripture where it occurs. How my soul loves it! I try to penetrate the depth of the meaning it contains as spoken by the Master and written according to His will by the inspired writer, touched by the finger of His love, and moved by His spirit.

Psalm xxxii: 1, 2: Blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man unto whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no guile.

Psalm xli: 1: Blessed is he that considereth the poor; the Lord will deliver him in the time of trouble.

Psalm lxxxic: 4, 5: Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house, they will be still praising Thee. Selah. Blessed is the man whose strength is in Thee; in whose heart are the ways of them.

Psalm cxii: 1: Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord, that delighteth greatly in His commandments.

Jeremiah xvii: 7: Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is.

Joel ii: 14: Who knoweth if he will return and repent, and leave a blessing behind him; even a meat offering and a drink offering unto the Lord your God.

James i: 12: Blessed is the man that endureth temptation; for when he is tried, he shall receive a crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love Him.

Revelations xx: 6: Blessed and holy is he that hath part in the first resurrection.

July 1.--Yesterday at noon I went on foot to Meadville, where I made several calls, and in the afternoon, by the same method of locomotion, proceeded to the County Farm, as I wished to see my brother-in-law, G. W. Cutshall, a walk in all of not less than twelve miles, so I remained there over night to rest. If I can get no one to accompany me, why then I go alone, for I can walk and think, and study nature as I pass along, always learning something new. This morning I went from Mr. Cutshall's to Mr. H. B. Stanford's (collector of State, county and poor taxes in Woodcock Township), a walk of probably some five or six miles. He lives near Mr. J. Wesley Lang's place, on the Gravel Run Road. I paid my taxes, and when I had done so Mr. Stanford said to me: "You, Mr. Waid, pay the largest tax of any one in our township, one hundred and sixty dollars and sixty cents. It is worth paying such a sum now, before July 4, and save five per cent." In the course of our conversation we talked about our late worthy commissioner, Mr. Lang, who died suddenly on Saturday, June 27 last, in his seventy-second year, having been born February 8, 1820, in Woodcock Township, Crawford Co., Penn. I would have attended his funeral had I known of his death in time; but to-day as I passed the Lang Cemetery, which is situated but a short distance from his late home, I stepped in and viewed his newly-made grave. While there pausing for a few seconds I copied from the tombstone near by the following inscription:

FLORA E.

WIFE OF J. WESLEY LANG,

DIED APRIL 3, 1865, AGED 27 YEARS 20 DAYS.

My walk homeward, about five and one-half miles, on this lovely day, by way of "Twelve Corners," is indelibly carved on my memory, so beautiful were the landscape and the panoramic perspective, especially as viewed from a rising piece of ground about two miles northwest of Blooming Valley and the little town of that name, which could be clearly seen, as well as the placid Woodcock Valley extending several miles to the southwest, till the eye catches a glimpse of the hills west of French Creek, and Saegertown--all charmingly attractive. Here and there, in fact everywhere, are to be seen prosperous farm homes with fertile fields, fruitful orchards and shady woods and inviting groves, all owned by contented and happy tillers of the soil, the humblest of whom appears to exalt in the comforts and embellishments which his own hands have spread around him. In less than an hour after feasting my eyes on this sublime picture of Nature adorned in summer raiment, I was at my home, my day's journey occupying about twenty-three hours, my walk, during that time, extending probably twenty-five miles in all. I was satisfied with my day's work, and with what I had seen and enjoyed [All so near home. Let us live in the labors and beauties of home life as well as when we go abroad].

July 2.--While I was engaged in mowing the door yard this bright morning, I was favored and encouraged with many salutations from passers by, and was much pleased when Dr. S. C. Johnson [Dr. S. C. Johnson attended my first wife during Dr. G. W. Weter's absence attending the medical lectures at New York City, and, after, continued to come to our home, as consulting physician to the close of her life], of Blooming Valley (Fred's brother-in-law), drove up in company with his brother, Mr. P. F. Johnson, of Independence, Kas., and we had a chat about eastern Kansas and other things; then, after they had left me and I had renewed my work, there came along, on their way to Meadville, my old friend Mr. David S. Keep, and his wife. This was our first meeting since his return from Ellendale, Dak., whither Mr. Keep had several years ago gone to reside from this his native county of which he was at one time register and recorder.

July 3.--To-morrow is the "Glorious Fourth," and I should like to attend the Dedication of the Soldiers' Monument in Meadville, as well as the celebration of the fifteenth anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Cutshall's wedding [I would here say that Frank Cutshall, G. W. Cutshall's only son, married Miss Alice Haines; consequently my son Fred and Frank Cutshall are brothers-in-law as well as cousins, and both are brothers-in-law to Dr. S. C. Johnson, of Blooming Valley]; but as I can not conveniently be present at both, I send to Frank and his wife a token of our friendship in the form of a Bible for their only son (eleven years of age), as a remembrance of the event, accompanied with the following letter:

BLOOMING VALLEY, PENN., July 4, 1891.

Mr. and Mrs. Frank Cutshall: I regret that I can not be present and share in the pleasure of friends and relatives, in celebrating your Fifteenth Wedding Anniversary. But having made previous arrangements to attend the Dedication of Soldiers' Monument, and general celebration of the Fourth of July in Meadville, it is necessary that I should deny myself the pleasure of being present. Yet I trust you will accept this token of my friendship--a Bible--sent as a gift to your son Harry in remembrance of the occasion. Wishing you all a good time, I remain respectfully,

Your Uncle,

F. C. WAID.

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