of great anxiety, they entered the boats for their sad journey down the Ganges. Others as well as the missionaries were fleeing from the deadly Sepoys. The party in all numbered one hundred and twenty-six souls, and was composed of almost every description of character. It is said that one was an avowed Deist, and others had lived like heathen.

The time to leave has come. They push off from the shore, and float down with the current, which carries them along at the rate of four miles an hour. We cannot dwell on the incidents of this anxious, awful trip. Occasionally their boats were fired into, they were robbed, they were blackmailed; finally the boat, on which the missionaries were, ran aground near an island owing to the low state of the water in the river. Here they were kept four days, and at last, when fired upon by the Sepoys, they left the boat, took to the land and tried to hide themselves in the tall grass.

Five days had been spent on the river. It was now nine days since they had started on this desperate flight. Escape seemed impossible. They were only five miles from Cawnpore. If they could only reach its English garrison! They heard the roar of artillery which announced to them that Sir Hugh Wheeler was besieged in his own entrenchments. They made repeated efforts to communicate with him, but met with disappointment each time. It was a mercy they did not succeed. As to this providence Dr. Walsh remarks: "Who that has heard of the massacre of that garrison-the butchery of the men-the separation of the women from their husbands-their reservation for a worse fate, and the crowning act of their being thrown, dead and dying, together into the well at Cawnpore, will not thank God that our dear friends were preserved from accomplishing the object they so much desired, and used so many fruitless efforts to secure."

But the end was not far distant. They were in the immediate neighborhood of that incarnation of brutality and treachery, Nana Sahib. This man had been a student in the English schools. He was a native of high rank and great wealth. He pretended to admire the ways of Christian civilization and to love the English people; but his career exposed the insincerity of his professions and the cruelty of his nature.

Believing that the end had come the missionaries called the company together for prayer. These last exercises were faithfully reported by the native Christians who were spared by the Sepoys and sent back to their homes. By them it was reported how Mr. Freeman opened the meeting by reading and expounding a portion of Scripture. Then a hymn was sung, but which one the natives could not report. After singing they all knelt down and Mr. Freeman led in prayer. Then another hymn was sung, and then all listened to Mr. Campbell, who endeavored to confirm the courage of all by inducing them to look unto Jesus, and to remember the crown of glory in store for all who are faithful unto death. The scene closes with another prayer, the last public one offered by any of this anxious group.

After the prayer meeting it was agreed to throw into the river all their weapons of defense. They were now ready to be offered up, and soon a boat load of Sepoys arrived and the party were made prisoners. They were taken over to the Cawnpore side, where they made known their character and peaceful occupations. They claimed that being merchants, planters, teachers and missionaries they ought not to be molested. Some few were disposed to let them go free; but others said, "No-take them to Nana Sahib, and let the unclean foreigners be rooted out." The more cruel sentiment prevailed.

The prisoners were now tied together two by two; husband and wife, brother and sister. Mr. Campbell, thus tied to his wife, carried in his arms his little boy, Willie, and a friend took his little daughter, Fannie. These were the only children belonging to the missionary party, and seem to have been general favorites.

The weary march is begun. But the want of proper rest, food and even water had greatly reduced the strength of the party, and their progress was slow. One of the party made a last effort to procure the release of the prisoners by the promise of a ransom of 300,000 rupees or $150,000. The Sepoy has an inordinate love of money, but the reply revealed a deeper passion: "It is blood we want and not money."

The last hope of escape was now taken away. They are helpless and their enemies are strong and cruel. Surrounded by their

tormentors they stagger on. Finally, exhausted by anxiety and fasting, some declare they can go no further. A halt is made and the party surrounded by their Sepoy guard is permitted to remain all night

The next morning, it was the 13th of June, they reached the station. They were all shut up for an hour in a house by themselves. What occurred in that house and during that hour none were left to testify. It was still early in the morning, only seven o'clock, when they were all marched out to the parade ground and ruthlessly shot. It is said that one hundred and twenty-six souls were thus butchered in cold blood.

Thus perished the Freeman's, the Campbell's, the Johnson's, the McMullin's and dear little Fannie and Willie Campbell. Others, indeed, fell with them; but these men and women in a peculiar sense died as martyrs for the cause of Christ. No thought of earthly gain had lured them from their western homes and brought them to this sultry clime. Their mission had been one of Christian sacrifice, and their record is on high. Their days of sin and sorrow are ended and God himself has wiped away all tears from their eyes, and the sore discipline and sharp trials of life are only remembered as a troubled dream when the night has passed away.

But one incident remains to be mentioned. It will no doubt occur to many a sympathetic heart to ask what became of the little boy they left in the Hill Country with the good English chaplain? In reply we may say, God took care of him. He was sent back to America in the care of a gentleman, one of our missionaries, Rev. Levi Janvier. He was tenderly welcomed by his widowed grandmother, Mrs. Bigham, of Millersburg, Ohio. As his mother's family were United Presbyterian he grew up as such.

Davidson Elliott Campbell was born in Futteghur, India, February 12, 1852. He lived to the years of maturity and was married September 2, 1879, in St. Louis, Missouri, to Miss Margaret Wallace, who, with two children, now resides in Monmouth, Ill. He had studied at Westminster College, New Wilmington, Pa., from which he graduated in 1871. He then studied theology one year at Allegheny, two

in Xenia, Ohio, and one in the Free Church Hall in Edinburgh, Scotland. He was licensed April 21, 1874, spent fifteen months intinerating under the direction of the Home Board, organized a mission in Burlington, Iowa, and supplied it until July, 1877. Was ordained by Bloomington Presbytery, December 10, 1877, and installed pastor of Paxton Church, Ford county, Ill., where he labored until June 4, 1881. He was pastor in Putnam, Washington county, N. Y., from September 20, 1881, to October 20, 1884. Having exhibited unusual skill in the sacred languages and biblical exegesis he was elected professor of Hebrew and Old Testament literature in the U. P. Theological Seminary at Allegheny Pa. But his health began to fail, and so rapid was his decline, with quick consumption, that he was never installed in his professorship. He died at Monmouth, Illinois, August 15, 1885, * in the full hope of a blessed immortality. And so the gracious assurance was verified-" When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."

Rev. M. S. Culbertson, D. D.

Rev. Michael Simpson Culbertson, D. D., was the son of Joseph and Frances (Stuart) Culbertson. He was born in Chambersburg, January 18, 1819. In several sketches of Dr. Culbertson I find his name printed as Matthew Simpson, but I have the best of authority for saying that this is a mistake. He was named after General Michael Simpson, a relative of his mother.

The future missionary grew up much as other boys of his native place. He was quick and intelligent, but serious and moral, and his pious mother, who had dedicated him to God in his infancy, looked forward to his becoming not only a minister of the gospel, but a missionary of the cross. She took no pains to conceal the fact of this consecration of her eldest All her intimate friends were aware of it. Hence, when her old friend Judge Chambers, the member of Congress from that district, without her knowledge or that of any member of

son.

* I am indebted to Rev. James B. Scouller, D. D., of Newville, Pa., the Historian, of the U. P. Church, for most of the facts and dates in this sketch of the orphan boy who became Rev. Davidson Elliott Campbell.