arty, in the very prime of his life when he met
death. The sun had only reached the meridian of his sky. While his
powers were glowing with divine energy, and his ministry was making the
deepest impression, the Lord called him home to glory. The translation
from earth to heaven was sudden and sublime. One of the poets has
painted his own conception of the event in a brilliant poem, entitled,
"The Cameronian's Dream." That noble life, so full of zeal, action, and
power, left a lasting imprint on the Church of the Covenanters. So
mighty was his influence that the people who stood strictly to the
Covenant were henceforth called Cameronians.

The field of Ayrsmoss presented a sad sight that evening. The departing
day may have flung over it a glowing sunset, but nothing could relieve
the gloom. The light was fading as the dragoons left, taking with them
Captain Hackston and a few other bleeding prisoners. Night settled
softly upon the moorland; the shout of the captains had given place to
the stillness of death. Nine noble defenders of the Covenant lay
pulseless in the dewy grass. The friends, soon as safety permitted, came
and, gathering the bodies together, solemnly and sadly buried them in
one broad grave. The present monument marks the spot where the precious
dust awaits the resurrection.

The head and hands of Cameron were cut off and carried in ignoble
triumph through the streets of Edinburgh. The head was elevated on the
point of a spear and borne in front of the prisoners to the city jail.
Cameron's father was a prisoner there at that time. The head and hands
were presented to him, with the sneering question, "Do you know them?"
The aweful shock quickly gave place to a gush of fatherly affection. The
blood, the pallor, even the stare of the lifeless face, seemed to
disappear in the heart-kindlings of the aged parent; to him the
countenance was sweet as ever, the eyes were beaming, the lips were
vocal, the brow was wreathed with holy dignity. A thousand tender scenes
of the past must have rushed in upon the soul of the agitated father. He
took up the cold pieces, dearer to him than his own flesh and, while
tears flowed plentifully, kissed them, saying, "I know them; they are my
son's; my own dear son's: the Lord can harm neither me nor mine; good is
the will of the Lord."

Cameron lived in the most critical period of the Covenanted cause. His
life of service and sacrifice arose into gigantic strength just when the