In the Rev. Harvey Hyde's "Reminiscences of Early Days," occurs the following interesting notes:—

"In the spring of 1842 I made a horseback journey across the State (Michigan), from Allegan to Saginaw, up the Grand River Valley, past where now Lansing boasts its glories, but where then in the dense forests not a human dwelling was to be seen for many miles, on to Fentonville. Coming on Saturday night to a lonely Massachusetts tavern-keeper, I found a hearty welcome to baked beans and brown bread, and preached on the Sabbath in his barroom to his assembled neighbors—the first minister ever heard in the neighborhood. Arriving at Saginaw, after a ride for miles through swamps, with from six to ten inches of water, sometimes covered with ice, at the close of a March day I found myself on the east side of the broad river, with not a human being or dwelling in sight, darkness already fallen, and only twinkling lights on the other side. It seemed a cold welcome; but after much shouting and waiting, kind friends appeared. Man and horse were cared for, and two pleasant years were spent there.

"My nearest ministerial neighbor of any denomination was twenty-five miles off on one side, and as far as the North Pole on the other. To a funeral or a wedding a fifteen-mile ride was a frequent occurrence. Many scenes come back to memory, some provocative of sadness, some of mirth. We were raising the frame of our new church-building one Monday afternoon, when a stranger came with a call to ride twenty-five miles alone through an unknown wood-road without a clearing for sixteen miles, to cross the Kalamazoo River by ferry at midnight, with the ferryman asleep on the other bank, and the mosquitoes abundant and hungry—to preach, and commit to the grave the bodies of eight men, women, and children who had been drowned on the Sabbath by the upsetting of a pleasure-boat. Such a sight have my eyes never looked upon, where all felt that God had rebuked their Sabbath-breaking. This was near Lake Michigan.

"Passing across the State, exchanging one Sabbath with Rev. O. S. Thompson of St. Clair, after retiring to rest for the night, I was aroused by a cry from Mrs. Thompson; and descending with speed, found that, hearing steps on her piazza, she had discovered the door ajar, and a huge bear confronting her on the outside. She slammed the door in his face, and cried for help. I looked outside, examined the pig-pen, to find all safe; no bear was visible. Returning to bed again, I was dropping to sleep, when a more startling shriek called me to look out of the window; and I saw the bear just leaping the fence, and making for the woods. This time he had placed his paws on the window at Mrs. Thompson's bedside, and was looking her in the face; and the prints of his muddy feet remained there many days. On the following Monday we were greeted by a bride and groom, who, with their friends, had crossed the river from Canada to get married. One being a Catholic, and the other a Protestant, the priest would not marry them without a fee of five dollars, which they thought too much. I married them, and received the munificent sum of seventy-five cents.

"I have had too sorrowful proof that prayers, even from the pulpit, are not always answered. On one occasion our house of worship was borrowed for a funeral by another denomination. Going late, I slipped in behind the leader at prayer as quietly as possible, to hear the petition that 'God would make the minister of this church a perfect gentleman, and surround his church with a halo of cheveau-de-frise.' The first I am sure was not answered; I am not sure about the others.

"Of personal hair-breadth escapes from sudden death my wife kept a record until she got to fifteenthly, and then stopped. Twice from drowning, twice from being run over by a loaded wagon, the last time the hind wheel stopping exactly at my head, but utterly spoiling my best silk hat, and showing the blessing of a good stout head."

The place where this man reined up his horse in the swamp, and had to call for a ferry, and where neither dwelling nor human being was in sight, is to-day for twenty miles almost a continuous city along the river bank. Everything is changed except the black flies and mosquitoes, which are as numerous as ever. Now, one other thing, and a curious fact too. You might dig all day and not find a worm to bait your hook, where to-day a spadeful of earth has worms enough to last the day; and this is true of all new countries. I have sent thirty-five miles for a pint of worms—all the way from St. Ignace to Petoskey; and however much the worms may have had to do with the vegetable mould of the earth, it is only where human beings live that the common angle-worm is found.

The incident of the wedding calls to mind one I heard of by a justice of the peace, a rough drinking-man, who before the advent of our minute-man performed all the marriage ceremonies. A young couple found him at the saloon. His first question was, "Want to be married?"—"Yes."—"Married, two dollars, please,—nuff said."

A few miles above this place the first minister who went in was so frightened the next morning that he took to his heels, leaving his valise behind. The landlady, a Roman Catholic, put the boys up to pretend they were going to shoot him, and so fired their revolvers over his head; he felt it was no place for him, and away he went. Indeed, it was as well for him that he did go; for often, after they were drunk, what was commenced in fun ended in real earnest. However, I will say this for the frontiersman, rough as he often is, he respects a true man, but is quick to show profound contempt for any man of the "Miss Nancy" order.

Ireland is not the only country that suffers from absentee landlords. The difference in the lumber-camps is often determined by the foreman. I have known places where the owners of a large tract of land were clergymen, and the foreman was an infidel. His camp was a fearful place on Christmas Eve. Twelve gallons of whiskey worked the men up until they acted like demons. In the morning men were found with fingers and thumbs bitten off, eyes gouged out, and in some few cases maimed for life. In other places I have known a good foreman or boss to hitch up the teams and bring enough men down on Sunday evening to half fill the little mission church.

There ought to be in all the lumber-camps a first-class library, and suitable amusements for the men; for when a few days of wet weather come together, there is nothing to hold them, and away they go in companies of six, seven, and a dozen, and meet with others from all directions, making for the village and the saloons; and then rioting and drunkenness make a pandemonium of a place not altogether heavenly to start with. I have known men who were religious who had to retire to the forest to pray, or be subjected to the outrageous conduct of their fellow workmen.

One man whom I knew kicked his wife out-of-doors because she objected to having dances in their home. She was his second wife, and was about to become a mother, but died, leaving her little one to the tender mercies of a brutal father. I remember preaching a rather harsh sermon at the funeral; but some years after I found the sermon had a mission. I met the man some hundreds of miles north. When he saw me he said he had never forgotten the sermon, and added, to my surprise, that he was a Christian now, and living with his first wife!

How men can lead such lives, involving the misery of others, and often compassing their death, and afterwards live happily, I cannot understand, except for the fact that often for generations these people have been out of the reach of Christian civilization, and so far as morals are concerned have been practically heathen. Yet, after all, I am not sure but that, in the day of judgment, they will be judged less harshly than those who have neglected to send the gospel to them.