The roll numbers three thousand seven hundred names. Often the soldiers sent their pledges home; that, as they said, if they fell in battle their friends might know they died sober. The benches under the trees were a favorite resort for soldiers, with paper or book in hand. At early dawn they could be seen absorbed in the perusal of the Word of Life.

"Meetings were often held under the trees, lighted with lanterns swinging in their branches. Picturesque, solemn and impressive was the scene. Five hundred in earnest attention upon the Word, or voices blending in praise. The refrains, 'I do believe,' 'I'm going home,' 'There'll be no more sorrow there, wafting upon the evening air arrested attention and attracted careless ones, who gathered around at respectful distance, as if on picket duty, and gradually closed in, scarcely committed, yet wondrously interested. At the close of each service the invitation to come forward, or rise for prayer, was responded to by from ten to fifty. One evening more than half the congregation rose and went forward, asking the prayers of their comrades.

"On the first Sabbath afternoon of every month the Lord's Supper was administered. Many who intended to unite with the Christian Brotherhood' on those days were ordered away before the time came. It was the custom to inquire carefully into the religious experience of those who desired baptism before administering the ordinance. At one communion service three soldiers previously examined presented themselves for baptism. As they came forward a young soldier in the congregation, a lad of seventeen years, looked up with surprise, and seeming to comprehend the scene, instantly rose, and with a calm, quiet air and firm step came and stood beside them. Mr. Fisher paused. Do you wish to be baptized?' 'Yes, sir.' Have you never been baptized?"" No, sir.' 'Why do you wish it?" Because I love Jesus. Will baptism save you?' 'No, sir.' How long have you loved Jesus? 'Before I came to the army.' Why did you not unite with the Church at home?' 'Because I did not do my duty.' After further questioning, the delegates expressed their satisfaction, and the delinquent disciple returning to duty knelt with three of his comrades to receive the seal of the covenant, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. That fair young face, with large blue eyes and heavy masses of light hair brushed back from the forehead, arrested our attention, as for nearly a week his voice with earnest interest testified to his heartiness in the Lord's service. We subsequently learned that his father had died a victim of rebel inhumanity in a Southern prison, and he was now the sole dependence of his widowed mother and her small children.

"Camp Distribution was guarded by a regiment of Veteran Reserves. In the camp of the Reserves the Christian Commission had a chapel-tent, where preaching service was held always three evenings in a week, and when practicable every evening. After preaching came the prayer-meeting. The work of the Lord at this tent was progressive, persons frequently rising for prayer, and making confessions of penitence and acceptance through atoning blood. Delegates became intensely interested in this regiment, and considered it a field of great promise.

"Camp Distribution itself comprised fifty barracks. For months a portion of the barracks served as a prison for deserters from our own army, and, of course, was closely guarded. These were objects of special regard, and were furnished with large quantities of stationery, needles, thread and reading. Personal attention given to many who had been arrested on false charges led to their speedy examination and release.

"The hospital connected with camp, with its six hundred patients, afforded a field of labor in which the delegates were deeply interested.

"Toward the close of the war, when the camp was daily decreasing by the detachments hurried to the front, our congregations scarcely numbered two hundred. The number rising for prayer grew less. For three nights, four, three, two only rising. What could it mean? Had it been excitement? influence of numbers? Meetings were still solemn, even more so if there were any change. But had the awakening spirit left? Could it be? Sad was the thought, and caused Mr. Fisher anxious solicitude. He took the test: All who are on the Lord's side, rise,' when nearly all rosescarce a dozen left.

"When the Army of the Potomac had accomplished its work, and marching back from Richmond in May, 1865, halted on the banks of the river Potomac for mustering out, our camp became again the scene of active operations. It was made the headquarters of the Christian Commission and the base of their work in the different army corps encamped around. Our meetings again filled up with our old friends. To many of them it was almost like getting home, and it was affecting to hear them thank God for this Christian Commission Chapel."

WILLIAM BALLANTYNE, Esq., of Washington, D. C., whose name is identified with the religious interests of, and whose bookstore was the headquarters of the Commission in that city, thus writes of this camp and Mr. Fisher's connection with it:

"The dear boys, we were glad to see them go home, but it was hard parting. Those scenes at Camp Distribution, of suffering and relief, of penitence, of prayer, of trust and triumphant joy. How many they were! How distinctly they live in memory! How sacred henceforth to one heart, at least, since intertwined with the entire devotion, the last and best service of one who only lived to see the end of the work at the camp; then hastened above, as if to anticipate the great company of soldiers that are to come after, and bless God for the Christian Commission in the army."

Mr. Fisher left his work at the camp late in June, broken down by incessant toil, amid scenes most exhausting by their constant strain upon the sympathies.

He went as far North as Little Britain, Orange county, N. Y., near Newburg, and there, at the residence of his brother-in-law, Rev. R. Howard Wallace, he died, Aug. 30, 1865. He was prostrated by excessive labor. "I want to sleep more than anything else," he said, on reaching his brother's residence, and unable to go farther toward home, sank and died. Some of the scenes of his last days are touchingly beautiful. Like so many others of the Commission, who have died in the service, when his mind wandered, all his thoughts were on his work for the soldiers.

On the last day of his sickness he called in his sleep, "Frank, ring the bell; it is time for meeting; I am to preach to-night. Is everything ready? ready for the celebration of his dying love?" And so he passed on, not to the preaching in a rude chapel at Camp Distribution, but to the praise where God is the temple. Everything was ready, and our dear brother celebrates the dying love.

He married Miss Ann Van Santvoord, of Schenectady, N. Y., who, with one child, survives him. He was a brother of the Rev. Caleb E. Fisher, pastor of the Lawrence Street Congregational Church, Lawrence, Mass.

J. VAN SANTVOORD, Esq., of New York, writes as follows: "He was eminently a man of prayer, and was also distinguished for earnestness in his ministry, and in whatever religious or other work he had in hand. His wife says that this text was often in his thought and on his lips: Now if any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his.' His aim and chief

desire was to become like the Saviour, and this aim he commended to others with all his ability, esteeming that to be the loftiest aim men could have. He tried to follow Christ in being kind, affectionate and forbearing, and in love for Zion, and in trying to persuade sinners to yield to the Lord-his tears and his constant prayers showing how real and engrossing was his interest in their salvation. With a large acquaintance among ministers and religious people, I can say that his pattern and example were the best and most consistent I ever knew. His zeal for Christ forbade frivolity and foolish jesting, and idle words were strangers to his lips and unwelcome to his ears. He never hesitated to rebuke wrong-doing. He would not make any compromise with wrong, were it ever so slight. He tried to fulfill his duties, never studying ease or worldly gain, seeming to lose sight of the question of profit and loss, in the worldly sense, and to keep in view always the advancement of Christ's kingdom, his zeal and love for which consumed him.

"He was very diligent in the regular study of the Bible. He delighted in it. His sermons were full of that kind of wisdom which is only found in the word of God, and consequently were highly prized by pious people. Such people always set great store by him and by his public ministrations. Worldly people could not hear him often and continue indifferent. His style of preaching was interesting. He was logical, concise and pointed. There was no weakness in his argument or his rhetoric. Considerable results flowed from his ministry in accessions, and his ministry was full of encouragement to himself and to his church. His character was very decided, and like all strong natures he had a sort of magnetic influence over those with whom he was brought in contact, and that influence being always on the side of the Lord, it resulted that his life and conversation and appeals always produced a religious interest. A religious interest was the natural result of his intercourse with others. He was very liberal, giving always at least one-tenth of his whole income to religious uses. He was very humble during his sickness. There was no thought in his mind of having deserved anything from God. His sickness was attended with a violent delirium. Through that, and through the quiet part of his illness, he was full of wonder at God's love and forbearance. He continually expressed amazement thereat.'

R.S. Fullerton

FULLERTON, ROBERT S.-the son of Thomas and Elizabeth (Stewart) Fullerton, was born in Bloomingburg, Ohio, Nov. 23, 1821. He was educated at Miami University, Oxford, Ohio, studied divinity at the Western Theological Seminary, Allegheny, Pa.; licensed by Chillicothe Presbytery, and ordained by the same Presbytery in 1850. He entered upon the service of his Master as a foreign missionary under the care of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions. He was stationed at Mynpoorhee, Agra, Futtehgurgh, Dehra, &c., in Northern India. He was a most devoted missionary, and his brethren held him in high esteem.

He died Oct. 4, 1865, of cancer, at Landour, on the Himmalyah Mountains. He was buried in the Mission cemetery, at Dehra, the station to which he belonged. He married Miss Martha White, a daughter of the late Rev. Robert White, of Washington Presbytery, who, with six children, survives him. He belonged to a large ministerial family; his brothers, the

late Rev. Hugh S. Fullerton* and J. S. Fullerton; his cousins, A. T. and George H. Fullerton, are Presbyterian ministers. Rev. A. T. FULLERTON writes as follows:

"SPRINGFIELD, OHIO, Aug. 1, 1867. "JOSEPH M. WILSON: DEAR SIR:-I am requested to give you an 'estimate of the character' of one whose memory is very dear to me, as it is to all who knew him-the Rev. Robert S. Fullerton, late of the Dehra Mission. "I was but a boy when he left this country, and it may be that my personal recollections do not enable me to form as complete and just a judg ment of the characteristics of the man as some who knew him during his later years and in his missionary life might form. But, in the main, I find my impressions verified by those who knew him in India.

"Mr. Fullerton was, physically, a man about five feet ten inches in height, heavily built, strong and capable of great endurance, light-haired and hazeleyed, with a head and face expressive of decided character, ability and energy. Intellectually, he was a well-balanced' man, not so remarkable for any special gift as for the equipoise and full development of his faculties. As a scholar his attainments were more than respectable. His judgment was cool and clear. His taste was correct, and cultivated by acquaintance with our best English literature. Morally, he was deeply conscientious, strict with himself, liberal and forbearing towards others a man of convictions rather than opinions; a man whom every one trusted, because all who knew him readily perceived that his life, inward and outward, was based upon and cased in princeple.

"As a preacher he was simple, forcible and scriptural. He went through the world with his eyes open, and thus his mind became fertile in illustrations and practical and direct in its operation upon other minds. Its heat was never latent, but radiated freely, making itself felt. At the same time he was eminently 'spiritual-minded.' God and heaven were intense and familiar realities to him. There was no cant in his preaching or conversation. Relying simply upon the word of God, it was evident that 'as of sincerity, as of God, in the sight of God, spoke he in Christ.' As a teacher he was very successful. Many hundreds of minds received their deepest impressions of revealed and natural truth from him in his mission schools, and are witnesses to his wisdom, care and kindness. Fearing God, he honored all men, and his missionary brethren speak of the good results, of his firmness, tempered with urbanity, in moulding the ignorant and childish heathen natures with which he had to deal. His treatment of the natives of this country,' says a fellow-laborer, and especially of the native Christians, was very happy. While never afraid to tell them their duty he was more than is usual respectful and courteous to them. This they appreciated as something they do not always receive, and as a consequence he was much beloved and respected by them.' And thus he carried the principles and habits of a good teacher into his intercourse with all who learned of him.

Mr. Fullerton was of a thoroughly affectionate nature. Early left an orphan, the fondness which men in general give to their parents he gave to his brothers, sister and companions. In later years his wife and children received the purest and most devoted love, and his work for the benighted heathen was a 'labor of love' in the fullest sense. His affection for his friends was singularly ardent, yet gentle and unexacting. No one ever grew tired of him. His feeling for his fatherland was of the same character.

* A memoir of Rev. H. S. FULLERTON is published in The Presbyterian Historical Almanac for 1864, page 133, with portrait.

Patriotism was with him not pride, but love. It had a flavor of the soil. He loved the land of his birth quite as much as he admired the institutions, and more than he admired the laws of his country. I think that few men at home or abroad have taken so deep an interest in the political changes and progress of these States. Almost every letter bore witness to this sustained interest, not in war-time only, but long before the war. At the time when he was seized by the disease which ended his earthly life he was contemplating a voyage home, and it is very touching now to remember with how much tenderness he looked forward to seeing America again. And his religion was of the same affectionate type. Profoundly conscious as he was of sin and its guilt, grace did much more abound' in his eyes. God was his heavenly Father, Christ his dear, his blessed Saviour;' men were his brothers-not merely and by way of form, but his brethren.' His piety was warm and full of positive life. Meet him at almost any moment or any place, and you would feel as if you were talking with one who had just come from a revival prayer-meeting. His religion was so genial, so joyous-a religion social with God as with man. If he had been a hermit, he would have been saintly, but not happy, and his cave would soon have become his sepulchre.

"He was eminently practical. From the time when he first tasted the preciousness of redeeming love, the sole object of his life appeared to be usefulness. He could not bear to be idle, but he did not waste his efforts. He sat before himself definite and attainable purposes, and worked toward them with steady and indomitable will. He lost no time in day-dreams. Although naturally of an impulsive disposition, he held under his impulses and kept them in subjection. His consecration to the missionary work was no hasty resolution, nor was it the effect of mere religious sentiment. He counted the cost. His health, his capacities, his adaptability to the task in all of its aspects, were the subjects of profound meditation as well as of inquiring prayer. To the practical wisdom with which he carried on his labors in his chosen field his brethren all testify. One of them in summing up his character speaks, 'in a word, of his happy tact in dealing with men generally. But his was not the tact of the strategist or diplomatist. It was that of a frank and honest soul, wisely and prudently seeking sanctified ends by sanctified means.

Few

But there was perhaps no characteristic more striking in Mr. Fullerton than his peculiar cheerfulness-the geniality and thorough wholesomeness of his nature. There was nothing morbid or self-involved or repellant about him. He found good cause for hearty laughter where others would only smile. It was impossible to be low-spirited in his company. I somehow always associate his memory with sunshine or winter-evening fires. men have ever made friends so easily or retained them so long. Yet, while he loved society and society loved him, his good-feeling and good-fellowship were not outside of his religion, but within it and consecrated by it; for cheerfulness was a pervading element of his piety. While he had many trials, and realized their weight and meaning as a Christian should do, they never crushed his spirit or long concealed God's face from him. Duties and responsibilities which would have disheartened many only nerved him with new courage. He thought and talked much of heaven, but heaven was not mere rest to him, but the blessedness of unfettered service, the triumph of holiness. In writing of the death of a brother to whom he was tenderly attached, he insisted that such a man 'should be followed to his grave with shouts and songs of victory.'

"I recollect well an address which he made at a communion-table shortly