CHAPTER XI

Attack while sitting at tableTHE ASSASSINATION OF DR. WHITMAN.

The brave pioneers of Oregon, without waitingfor authority of Congress, raised the American flag, organized a territorial government, elected officials to make and execute laws, and from 1843 to 1848, without the aid of Congress, by a single official act, they carried on the government as becomes good citizens of the Republic. True, there were murmurings in Congress as of old, but they were only half-hearted, and half in earnest. The final signing of the treaty in 1846 was the doom, however, of the regime of England in Oregon.

England in its Saddle

She did not wait for signatures to the treaty to set on foot an inquiry, as to the loss of Oregon, or who was responsible for it, and how this great immigration from the states had originated. The English company forthwith sent a commission, made up of Messrs. Peel, Park, and Wavaseur, to Oregon, to learn all the facts. When they reached there they had an easy task, for both Englishmen and Americans understood the matter.

When Whitman and Spalding, with their wives, caught up with the convoy of fur-traders, in that memorable journey in 1836, one of the old voyageurs who had felt the iron hand of the Hudson Bay Company, sententiously remarked, as he pointed his finger at the two American women, "There is something the royal Hudson Bay Companyand its masters can't drive out of Oregon!" And it proved true prophecy. We have already noted the courtesy and kindness with which Dr. John McLoughlin, the chief factor, received the missionaries. The London officials soon learned that they had to deal with but one man, and he was in their power.

If that interview between the doctor and these eminent Englishmen, who had grown great and rich through his management, could be fully reported, it would doubtless make interesting reading. However modern historians may differ as to the cause of the sudden large immigration of Americans to Oregon, the commissioners from London had no doubt upon the subject. They made the direct charge that it was due to McLoughlin's over-kindness to the missionaries, that had he treated them as he did the American traders, such conditions would not have existed. It mattered not that the good old doctor knew that the charge was substantially true, and yet he arose in righteous indignation, and replied:

"What would you have? Would you have me turn a cold shoulder on the men of God, who came to do for the Indians, that which this company had ever neglected to do? If we had not helped them, and the immigrants of '42 and '43, Fort Vancouver would have been destroyed, and the world would have treated our inhuman conduct as it deserved. Every officer of the Company, from governor down, would have been covered with obloquy and the business ruined."

This conference was about one year and eight months before the signing of the treaty, and the English people and the Hudson Bay Company, while worried over the situation, still had small fear of losing the entire country. They felt sure of at least owning, upon final settlement, all north of the Columbia River. They still expected to undo the work of the man who had for more than a quarter of a century been coining them fortunes, and they promptly turned him adrift, and appointed his successor.

After the treaty was signed, in 1846, and came fully into American possession, the great monopoly continued to show its modesty, and sent in a bill of damages to the United States for $4,950,036.17, of which amount the United States paid in cash $650,000. Then the Company "squatted" upon one of our islands some six miles from shore, raised the English flag, and the United States had another siege lasting thirty years, with threatened war, before the question, "who owns San Juan Island?" was left to the arbitration of the emperor of Germany, who, in 1875, decided in favor of the United States. With this brief history we dismiss the Hudson Bay Company from our further concern, except to note its humane act, in the prompt rescuing of the captive women and children, after the massacre. Still thereis another good thing that should be said of the Hudson Bay Company. Under the rule of Dr. McLoughlin "the great white head chief," the Indians over so large a district were never before so well and wisely ruled. They obeyed his orders as promptly as loyal subjects to their king. The desire in these pages has been to do no injustice, or make unfair criticism. There are "trusts" and "monopolies" in the United States to-day even more selfish than the Hudson Bay Company. The English people were not usurpers in Oregon. They only accepted and used for the first half of the nineteenth century, with the full official consent of the American people, one of our great possessions, which we had marked as "worthless." It is well to bear such facts in mind, and thus allow the mischief done, as well as the good attained, to rest where it belongs.

Whitman on the March and at the Mission

"Who led the great immigration of 1843 safely to Oregon?" has often been a subject of discussion.

Upon the safety of that band was that of Oregon dependent. Whitman was not the captain of the caravan, but he was the one man in the cavalcade who had been three times over the route. In that day there was not a guide-book in existence, and he, with General Lovejoy (who had been over thisroute once, and that from Fort Hall twice), was relied upon by captain, guide, and people for advice and direction. It is easy to see the important place he held.

Perhaps no man among the pioneers of Oregon was better qualified to tell of Whitman's services than was the Honorable Jesse Applegate, who was a member of the expedition, and for many years after, one of the most honored citizens of Oregon.

In a great oration, delivered before the State Historical Society of Oregon, in 1876, he calls Dr. Whitman the "good angel of the immigration." In closing his address, after noting many eminent men and their good work, he said:

"Now, I will intrude no other name of that noble band but that devoted man, Dr. Marcus Whitman. His stay with us was transient, but the good he did was permanent. From the day he joined us on the Platte, his indomitable energy was of priceless value to the migrating column, and it is no disparagement to any individual to say, that to no other man are the immigrants of 1843 so deeply indebted for a successful conclusion of their journey as to Dr. Whitman."

Dr. Spalding, who was present at the Whitman Mission when the immigrants reached there, says:

"Hundreds of the immigrants stopped at Waiilatpui to take Whitman by the hand, and many with tears in their eyes, acknowledged their obligations for his untiring labor and skill, which brought them in safety over the weary way."

Whitman was not a politician in the sense theterm is generally used, but only a few months before his death he rode on horseback to Oregon City to induce his old friend Judge Thornton to visit Washington and try to persuade the authorities to organize a territorial government in Oregon. The Judge accepted, and was on that mission at the time of the massacre at Waiilatpui (November 29, 1847).

The Massacre

Whitman was a tireless worker. Frequently, after toiling all day in his fields or upon his buildings, he spent long hours of the night on the rounds to visit his sick; yet he did not fail to see the bad influences used upon the Cayuse Indians.

They feared him and his influence. There had been mutterings of discontent among the Cayuse Indians; too many whites were coming in. There was much sickness among the Indians; the measles had prevailed; with their unsanitary living and barbarous treatment of the sick many had died. They laid it all to the white settlers, and blamed those who encouraged and helped them. Good old Istikus, their faithful Indian friend of many years, had warned them that some of his people had bad hearts toward them, and begged them to go away until their hearts were good again. But how could they go. On the fatal morning when the conspiracywas brought to execution, seventy people were in the mission station, mostly women, children, and sick men worn out by long travel and exposure. It was two hundred and fifty miles to Fort Vancouver by trail or in open boats down the Columbia River. That was the only place of safety, and they could not leave all these people, nor could they take them. Moreover, Whitman still had faith in his Indians, which was partly justified by the facts, as it was proved that no Cayuse could quite bring himself to strike the first blow. But they found one more treacherous who was ready to take the Judas part in the tragedy. He was called Joe Tahamas, a half-breed Canadian, who had come to the mission station several months before hungry, sick, and half-clad. As their custom was they took him in, clothed, fed, and nursed him back to health again. After a time they found him fomenting quarrels among their people, and stirring up their evil passions in various ways. They finally procured him a place as teamster to go to the Willamette River, and hoped their troubles with him were ended. He had returned, and from after evidence, had no doubt been going through the tribe, and with a lying tongue rousing the Indians to a mad passion against their friends and benefactors. Some distant chief of the tribe had armed him with what was known as "TheCharmed Tomahawk." It had long before been presented to them by the warring Sioux, in some great peace talk, and was to bring them victory and good fortune wherever it was used. After the massacre at Waiilatpui and the war following, with the banishment and partial destruction of their tribe, "The Charmed Tomahawk" became "Bad Medicine." No one wished to keep it, but with the old superstition of a living spirit in everything, they feared to destroy it, lest some greater punishment should fall upon them, and it passed from one to another as they would receive it.

The Charmed Tomahawk

An Indian agent, named Logan, learned the story and purchased it, as we may believe, for but a small sum. During the Civil War, in an auction sale for the benefit of The Sanitary Commission, the hatchet with its story was sold for a hundred dollars, and was presented to the legislature of Oregon. It has finally lodged among the treasured relics of the Oregon Pioneer Association in Portland, where it will doubtless be seen by many during the coming summer. The 29th of November, 1847, the fatal morning dawned that ended the career of the devoted missionary band gathered on the Walla Walla. The Doctor no doubt with a heavy heart, after all his warnings, went out onhis round of duty, to look after the farm and stock, to visit the sick, and supply any wants of the emigrants camped about them. Returning to the house, he sat down in his office before his desk and was reading with John Sager, one of his adopted boys seated by his side. An Indian came in, saying he was sick and wanted some medicine. While his attention was engaged by him, Tahamas stole silently in, armed with "The Charmed Tomahawk," and with one blow on the back of the head, crushed in the skull, and the poor Doctor sank unconscious to the floor, though he lived for several hours after. The brave boy by his side, drew a small pistol from his pocket, and attempted to shoot the murderer, but was struck down with the same weapon and immediately killed. The Indians then left the house, where there were only women and children, to join the great company gathering outside and find the unarmed men scattered about the place. Two of these badly wounded made their way back to the house, and barred doors and windows as best they could to protect the helpless ones inside. Only four men made their escape unharmed to carry the news to Fort Vancouver and ask for help. Mr. Spalding, one of their fellow missionaries, was on his way, and near Waiilatpui, when the massacre occurred. His little daughter was in Mrs. Whitman's school, a witness of thewhole bloody tragedy, and afterward one of the captives, carried away by the Indians. From her descriptions, and that of others who lived to tell the tale, he wrote a full description of the tragic scenes to the parents of Mrs. Whitman. It is needless to say they were too terrible to repeat in detail. Still it is well to know how the heroic wife met death, still giving her thought and life for others. She and one of the young women had carried the body of her dying husband to a private room, and she was kneeling by his side, when the host of savages returned to the house. Maddened like wild beasts with the sight of blood, they tore the weak bars from doors and windows, and with savage war-whoops entered the house. Their superstitions prevented them from entering the death chamber, but they began looting the house and threatening to kill the women and children, whose frantic cries added terror to the scene. It was then the heroic wife left the side of her dying husband, and her safe retreat, going from one to another trying to comfort and soothe them. As she walked past a window, a bullet struck her in the breast; she grasped the window-sill to keep from falling, and recognized her murderer as Tahamas, for whom she had done so much. She exclaimed, "Oh, Joe, is it you!" It was like the dying cry of Cæsar, when he sawhis old-time friend in the mob about him, "Thou, too, Brutus!" and a sharper pang than her wound gave entered that tender heart. She was carried back to her room. A few hours later the Indians sent word to her that if she would come out they would not harm her, but would go away after they had seen her. She was then too weak from loss of blood to walk, but she asked Mr. Rogers, one of their helpers, and Miss Beulah, a friend, to carry her into the next room, where the Indians had gathered. They had hardly entered it when a volley of shots were fired, and both she and Rogers were pierced by many balls.

Some one now in authority gave an order not to shoot the women and children. The little ones were all gathered in one corner, witnessing the whole terrible scene, but one Indian more humane picked up some blankets and screened it all from their view. One of the men, a guest at the mission, raised a board in the floor and hid himself, wife, and three children beneath. They suffered agony in their imprisonment, with the blood of the murdered ones trickling through the floor upon them. On a visit to Walla Walla and out to the old mission farm, two years ago, we met a very intelligent and interesting lady, who, in the course of conversation, told us that she was one of the three children hidden under the floor duringthat terrible day and that she was then but a little child the remembrance had never left her, nor could she see an Indian without a shudder. The Indians went at their work leisurely, and seemed anxious to prolong the torture. They knew it was two hundred and fifty miles to Vancouver, and they had no fear of molestation from any other source. For five days they kept up their orgies, guarding against escape of their victims. At the end of that time they began to be anxious for their own safety, and gathering the women and children, forty in number, they started for a friendly tribe to wait for developments.

ManD. K PEARSONS, M. D., LL. D

Runners were sent in haste to Fort Vancouver telling of the disaster, and Chief Factor Ogden of the Hudson Bay Company lost no time in starting for the scene with twenty picked men, boats and provisions. Upon reaching Waiilatpui they found everything in ruins, the houses wrecked, the mill burned, and the dead bodies of eleven men, one boy, besides the bodies of Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. These were all tenderly gathered and buried together, in what has been called ever since "the Great Grave." In the mean time Chief Ogden had sent runners after the Indians, with a peremptory order to return all the captive women and children to him at once, to Fort Walla Walla. For many years the Indians had been accustomedto obey orders from this source, and they thought it wise now to comply; besides they soon began to find the helpless captives a burden to feed. Chief Ogden assured them he would pay them a handsome ransom if all were brought in safely. One or two of the chiefs, who were enamored of the young women, insisted they should be allowed to keep them in captivity and make them their wives. It required strategy, threats, and promise of larger reward before that trouble was overcome. All were finally brought in, except three delicate children, one the adopted child of the doctor, and two others, who perished from exposure. Ogden gave the Indians blankets, powder, lead, and other articles they demanded, to the value of five hundred dollars, and all were conveyed to Fort Vancouver, and places of safety.

Four men only escaped the massacre. One of these was Dr. Spalding. He was on his way to visit the doctor on business, and to see his little daughter, who was a pupil in Mrs. Whitman's school. When nearing the station he met one of the Jesuit priests, who told him of the disaster. He immediately retraced his steps, fully expecting a like work at his own mission. He reached home the second night in a dazed condition. His Nez Perces, when they heard of it, rallied around him some five hundred of their bravest warriors,and escorted Dr. and Mrs. Spalding quickly to a place of safety. Their little daughter Eliza, nearly ten, was rescued and returned to them.

Cayuse Thought the Flurry Over

The Cayuse received their presents and seemed to think their work was over. In this they were mistaken. The hardy old pioneers of Oregon, who loved and honored Dr. and Mrs. Whitman, arose as one man, and in winter, without tents or proper equipments, moved down upon the Cayuse country. I do not intend to burthen my readers with the story of a long, desolating Indian war. It was a bloody and savage contest, where General Phil H. Sheridan was initiated into active military life and won his first honors.

The leaders in the massacre, Tilcokait, Tahamas, Ouichmarsum, Klvakamus, and Sichsalucus were arrested and hung at Oregon City, just before the author reached there. In 1850 one of the most miserable of the villains, Tarntsaky, was killed while being arrested. My room-mate in Oregon in 1850, the late Samuel Campbell of Idaho, spent the winter and spring of 1847 at the Whitman Mission, and never tired in telling of the lovely Christian character of Mrs. Whitman, of her kindness and patience to whites and Indians alike. She had retained the same glorious musical voice, and life wherever she went was filled with what Matthew Arnoldwould call "sweetness and light." Mr. Campbell said while he was a prisoner at Grand Ronde, old Tarntsaky one day boasted in his presence that he took the scalp from Mrs. Whitman's head, and told him of the long, golden, silky hair. He said, "Prisoner as I was, it was all I could do to keep my fingers from his throat." The many tribes around sided with the Cayuse, except the Nez Perces, and the whole land was closed to white settlers for over ten years, as the state government deemed it impossible to protect the scattered settlements.

The Result

The final result was that the tribes engaging in the war were all removed to distant reservations, and forty thousand square miles of rich territory were opened to settlement. Thus the great sacrifice resulted for the good of the people. The work of the American Board in sending missionaries to Oregon has sometimes been called "a disaster" and "failure." Was it? What could have been grander work for any Christian man than Whitman's brave part in saving the whole great territory to the Union? Patriotism is a part of Christianity, and an important part. That man is a feeble Christian who does not love his home and fatherland.

The American Board never claimed, or received, a moiety of the reward deserved, because of itspoor estimate of the great work done at that time by its servants. Well did Dr. Frank Gunsaulus say:

"Marcus Whitman was more to the ulterior Northwest than John Harvard has ever been to the Northeast of our common country."

Two names which shine brightest upon the pages of English history are Dr. Robert Livingstone and Dr. John McKenzie, both missionaries, and both poor men. Their eminent services were along much the same lines as those of Dr. Whitman—services to the whole people and the nation. Dr. McKenzie made three trips to London before he could persuade the English authorities to plant their flag over Bechuanaland, the flower and wealth of all South Africa. But how England and English people have ever since loved to do honor to both these noble men! Dr. Whitman, by his eminent and heroic service, laid the American people under as great a debt of gratitude, and I simply point to facts already narrated to sustain that position. Have the people of the United States done their simple duty to its noble martyrs?

The Benefits to the Indians

As to the benefits from the missionaries to the Indians themselves eternity alone will reveal how little or how much good was conferred. The

Cayuse was a trading tribe of Indians, and were almost as unscrupulous in their dealings as Wall Street is to-day. Dr. Whitman had hard uphill work in changing their customs. Yet many of the Cayuse became Christians. Old Istikus was a prince among Christian men, savage as he was. For sixteen years after the death of his loved friends, he regularly went to the door of his wigwam, rang the old mission bell, and invited all to come in to prayers. General Joel Barlow, who was one of the commissioners after the treaty of peace in 1855, to settle the Indians upon their reservations, says:

"I found forty-five Cayuse and one thousand Nez Perces who have kept up regular family worship, singing from the old hymn books, translated into their language by Mrs. Spalding. Many of them showed surprising evidences of piety."

The most successful of the missions, as far as good to the Indians was concerned, was doubtless that of Mr. and Mrs. Spalding among the Nez Perces. They were the friends and companions of Dr. and Mrs. Whitman on that long wedding journey over plains and mountains. They were pushed far out in the wilderness by the Hudson Bay Company in what is now eastern Washington, and the Spokane country near where the city of that name is located. They were gentle, kind, and self-sacrificing, and perhaps were fortunate in being soisolated. The Indians received them and their message kindly, and soon there were many sincere and earnest Christians among them. A small printing-press was sent them from Honolulu that had become insufficient for their work there. Mrs. Spalding translated the Book of Matthew, some psalms, hymns, and a few school books, into the Nez Perces language, and they printed them with their little hand-press. It is said that, now after sixty years have passed, they still have some of them that are carefully treasured relics. They have never engaged in wars, remain in the lands of their fathers, are farmers and stock raisers, have churches and schools, and are respected by their white neighbors. One little touch of nature lingers with them still, one will often see an Indian teepee or wigwam in the yard or some place near a comfortable house. Doubtless the father often goes there to smoke his pipe in peace and comfort. Mr. Spalding lived to be an old man, and told and wrote much of the early life of the missions.

In these chapters we have purposely avoided discussing the motives which led up to the massacre. There have been many charges not fully sustained, that have caused ill feeling and done harm. But it is undoubtedly true that Dr. Whitman's activity to help settle Oregon with Americans was the direct cause of the great disaster. Dr. McLoughlinwas driven from office for no other reason than his kindness to the missionaries that made Whitman's ride possible. Just as certainly Dr. and Mrs. Whitman perished because they loved the flag and all it represented, and were brave enough to express it by heroic acts whose results would not be misunderstood by the enemies of the republic. There is good evidence that Dr. Whitman understood the perils of his mission before entering upon it, but in such a character fear played a small part when confronted by duty.

The Memorials to Whitman. Why Delayed. Why the History was not Written Earlier. Whitman College the Grand Monument! Professor Harris Defines "History the window through which the soul looks down upon the past and reads its lessons."

It is of great importance that history be written accurately, and is best when written at the time of action by reliable observers. But there is much history of great value which was not currently recorded. The Bible record is an instance of this. Take the history of the battles of the great Civil War as another illustration. General Sherman, president of "The Army of the Tennessee," in every annual meeting, long after the war, declared the papers read before the society, and those read before "The Loyal Legion," descriptions of skirmishes, campaigns, and battles of the great conflict, as of greater value to history than were even the official reports made at the time of action; they were the personal experiences of many participants; that they caught the very spiritof the time and events, and were reliable although written thirty and more years later.

There were many valid reasons why the history of the North Pacific states in pioneer days was left unwritten for many years. It was most fortunate that when the subject first began to receive attention so many of the pioneers were still living, and that so much of the history had been preserved by the Pioneer Association of Oregon, and by individual records and letters. The writer reached Oregon soon after the massacre at Waiilatpui. He was a teacher of the boys and girls of the first settlers, and had access to their homes soon after the execution of the five Indian leaders. The scene of the execution was not far distant from the school-house in the fir woods. Naturally it was a subject for discussion in every intelligent circle. I thus learned historic facts not from books of written history, but from men who were makers of the history.

Why the Writing was Delayed

In less than eight months after the massacre, gold was discovered in California and Oregon, and no other event so absorbed the attention of the population of the Pacific Coast or we might say of the whole United States. They thought of little else for ten years. During the sameperiod, an Indian war following the Whitman massacre was in progress in Oregon. Before these excitements ceased, the political upheavals, beginning in 1856, culminated in 1860. Then followed the great struggle of the Civil War, when giants met in battle, and the very existence of the nation hung upon the success of the men behind the flag. After 1865, the starry flag floated from ocean to ocean, from the lakes to the Gulf, came the troublous period of reconstruction—railroad-building and money-making as never before witnessed in the Republic.

It is not at all strange that under such conditions, at least such history as was made by a poor country doctor and his noble, unselfish wife should have been for the time neglected. Who will say that it is too late to remember such? In every civilized land the historian's pen, the painter's brush, and the sculptor's art have been taxed to place upon the library shelves historical books, upon the walls paintings, and upon pedestals sculptured marble; thus commemorating the noble dead, their great names live again as educators of the people.

The Memorials to Whitman Few

After leaving Oregon, the writer did not return for forty-five years; in the interim were wondrouschanges. The giant forests of firs had disappeared, while cities, towns, and country homes, and waving wheat-fields had taken their places. But as I stood at "the Great Grave" of the martyrs, it alone was undisturbed and unchanged, in all these years!

To the great credit of loyal pioneers of Oregon who knew Whitman and his work, upon the fiftieth anniversary of his death erected a stately marble column above the grave and secured five acres of ground about it, while the Christian people of Walla Walla built a little Memorial Mission Church at the place of the massacre.

In a previous chapter we noted the action of the American Board and the Presbyterian statue to Whitman upon the fiftieth anniversary of his death.

It is gratifying to observe these marked evidences of awakened interest in the long-neglected Oregonian hero. It is but the beginning, for the name and honor of Marcus Whitman will shine with new luster in the years to come.

The Grand Memorial is Whitman College

It needs no argument to convince intelligent readers, young or old, that to such a character as Whitman, a great institution of learning is the best and most appropriate memorial. While it is a constant reminder of a noble, unselfish, patriotic Christianlife, it is also a blessing to the whole people within its reach, by building up intellectual and moral character in the young men and women of that land for which he gave his life.

The story of Whitman College, like the life of the man it commemorates, gives a lesson in faith.

Dr. Cushing Eells was the co-worker with Whitman, and perhaps knew the inner life of the man better than any other. After the massacre he was driven from his post, but returned to the Indian country as soon as it was opened to white people. He at once visited the tragic grounds at Waiilatpui. As he stood uncovered at the great grave of his beloved friends, he writes in his diary:

"I believe the power of the Highest came upon me, and I asked, What can I do to honor the memory of these Christian martyrs who did so much for the nation and humanity? I felt if Dr. Whitman could be consulted he would prefer a high school for the benefit of both sexes, rather than a monument of marble."

We must remember that at that time there were very few schools in the Pacific States above the grade of the ordinary country district school.

The subject impressed him, and as he thought and prayed, it came to him as his life work and duty, to build such a monument. In memory of his friend he laid the matter before his good wife, it met with her cordial approval; and then before the Congregational Council, and they enthusiastically indorsedthe work, and in a closing minute said, "The Whitman Seminary is in memory of the noble deeds and great work of the late lamented Dr. Whitman and his noble wife."

2-storey building with towerMEMORIAL HALL WHITMAN COLLEGE.

3-storey building with turretYOUNG MEN'S DORMITORY, WHITMAN COLLEGE.

Dr. Eells, like Whitman, was a very poor man. The people about them were poor. But they were rich in the kind of "Faith that removes mountains." To financiers of modern times who demand millions for schools the outlook for Whitman Seminary would not have been marked as "promising." Dr. Eells bought the great Whitman Mission farm from the American Board for one thousand dollars (on credit), and began work. He and his wife were then well along in years, but that did not count, and they had two sons of like mind who still live to tell the story. For six years he plowed, sowed, reaped, and preached a free Gospel up and down the valley; while the good wife made butter, raised chickens, spun and wove, and at the end of that time, they had accumulated six thousand dollars to start Whitman Seminary. The charter was granted, the foundations laid, and work begun. The time came, years later, when the seminary grew into a college, and Dr. Eells had such strong and able men to aid and advise him as Dr. Anderson, the first president, Dr. Atkinson, Dr. Lyman, Dr. Spalding, and many others. But the college, whileit had from the outset a good reputation, was poor; there was no endowment, and the young men and women to be educated were poor. Dr. Eells devoted his time and life energies to his task, but in spite of all they had to place a mortgage of thirteen thousand five hundred dollars upon the property. One has to read the story in Dr. Eells' diary to know it in its completeness. In its darkest days, when the faith of others was small, his was still as strong as at the beginning. The last entries in his diary, just before his death, were prayers for the upbuilding and full success of Whitman College.

The Story of Long Ago, and its Sequel

The sacred word says, "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver!" Who can overestimate the power of a good word or a good act? Drop a stone in the middle of a placid lake and the circles begin and widen until they reach the farthest shore. So with good words and good acts, they go on and on into the great future, in ways we know not of.

Congressman Thurston was a Maine man—a fine type physically, intellectually, and morally. He had early immigrated to Oregon, and was the first congressman from that territory. It was too far to return to Oregon for his summer vacation, over the slow routes of that day, so hewent up to Chicopee, Massachusetts, to spend the summers of 1848 and 1849. The house where he boarded was one of the old-fashioned New England double houses, with a wide porch across the entire front. It so happened that a young doctor and his wife occupied the other side of the house, and the front portico was the common retreat in the long summer evenings. He loved to tell of the majestic forests of fir and pine trees, fifteen feet in diameter and three hundred feet high, of the grand rivers, rich soil, and its great future. It was not until 1848 that word reached the States of the tragic disaster at Waiilatpui, and the death of his dear friends, Dr. and Mrs. Whitman. The incidents and heroism of their lives were told by the eloquent, earnest congressman, in a way that made a deep and lasting impression upon the young doctor and his good wife. They were seriously casting about for some wider field in life, and were almost persuaded to make Oregon their future home. Upon the homeward journey to Oregon in 1850, Congressman Thurston lost his life in a great ocean disaster upon the Pacific. The writer was in Oregon at the time, and well remembers the wave of sorrow that spread throughout the territory. After the death of Thurston, the young doctor gave up the Far Western journey, but he still had "the western fever," removed to Illinois,and bought a small farm. Prospecting through that state, Wisconsin and Michigan, he made up his mind that there was money in pine land, and beginning in a small way, marketed the timber, and made money. He at once invested all his money in pine timberland, bought and sold, and ever bought more pine, and the time came when he could readily sell for four times the cost of it. He was an observant man, and his success in locating and selling, by his straightforward way of doing business, soon attracted the attention of capitalists, and they persuaded him to settle in Chicago and buy and sell for them. Soon an immense business was in his hands, which continued for years, and left him with a fortune. He wearied with the years of intense business activity, retired, and said to himself, here is a snug little fortune, what is to be done with it? In the language of a notable address, delivered by the doctor before a great audience at Battle Creek, when he said, "These dead hands can carry nothing out! What, gentlemen, are you going to do with your money?" He soon settled upon a plan to spend his, and that was to use it through deserving struggling Colleges, to give to poor young men and women an intellectual, moral, and religious training. He believed that every institution for its permanency and security should have a healthy, interested, money-givingconstituency about it, and so he gave in a way to induce others to give, and aids no institution where the Bible and moral training are neglected. I scarcely need tell my intelligent readers this person is D. K. Pearsons, M.D., LL.D., of Chicago, now eighty-six years old.

I have given, in brief, a sketch of his work in this connection, first because of his direct association with it, and secondly, because it pointedly marks what we have tried to show from historic facts in all the chapters—that Power higher than man's power can be traced and studied.

We often speak of all such as "accidental happenings."Were they?Did the four Flathead chiefs accidentally, in 1831-32, appear in the streets of St. Louis upon their strange mission and there meet their old friend the great red-head chief? Were Drs. Whitman and Spalding and their wives accidentally in Oregon? Was his heroic ride to save Oregon in 1842 an accident? Was it accidental that he was on the border in 1843 to lead that great immigration to Oregon in safety? The Oregon of to-day was dependent upon the safety of that great company in 1843. Was it all accidental that Congressman Thurston met Dr. Pearsons in 1848-49 at Chicopee, Massachusetts, and by "words fitly spoken," that forty-five years after he had rested in his watery gravewere found to be "apples of gold in pictures of silver"?

We all view such events from different standpoints, and I do not stop to argue, only to state facts historically accurate. There are accidents in the physical world from violated laws certainly, but in the moral uplift of the race there seems to be an invisible hand, and an agency greater than man's power. Wise as the race has grown, we cannot understand and explain the mysteries that surround us. I see the poor young Doctor in 1848 struggling to master his professional work, and I see him again in 1894, old and rich, and in January of that year, he sat musing by the fire in his winter home in Georgia, and he took his pen and wrote:

Lithia Springs, Georgia, January, 1894.To the President of Whitman College, Walla Walla,Washington:—Dear Sir:I will give Whitman College fifty thousand dollars for endowment, provided friends of the College will raise one hundred and fifty thousand additional,Yours,D. K. Pearsons.

Lithia Springs, Georgia, January, 1894.To the President of Whitman College, Walla Walla,Washington:—

Dear Sir:

I will give Whitman College fifty thousand dollars for endowment, provided friends of the College will raise one hundred and fifty thousand additional,

Yours,

D. K. Pearsons.

ManREV. S. B. L. PENROSE, PRESIDENT OF WHITMAN COLLEGE

Some may say "Nothing strange in that. Dr. Pearsons had made large gifts to thirty-four different colleges." That is true. I one day asked him, "Did any one ever ask that gift to Whitman College?" He replied, "No; no one asked me for adollar, and the president of the college evidently thought my proposition preposterous, for he never even replied to my letter." It was in the dark days of the college. President Eaton was a good man, but he had lost the strong faith of his predecessors, and soon after resigned. Just then the Yale Band of Missionaries invaded Washington, and Rev. S. B. L. Penrose, a man of Eells faith and Whitman's courage and perseverance, was chosen president. He at once visited Dr. Pearsons, thanked him for his generous offer, and set about his task of raising the money. The difficulty was in getting a start. On June 20, 1895, the book "How Marcus Whitman Saved Oregon" was published in Chicago, and on the Fourth of July, Sunday, two weeks later, forty ministers in Chicago and neighboring places took Marcus Whitman as a patriotic text. Many of them took up collections for the memorial college, and the Congregational Club gave its check for one thousand dollars. Virginia Dox, an eloquent and enthusiastic pleader, took up the work, carrying it through Michigan, along northern and central Ohio and all New England from Maine to Massachusetts, and the one hundred and fifty thousand was raised, and the Doctor's fifty thousand added. The Doctor, in the meanwhile has paid off the mortgage debt of thirteen thousand five hundred dollars. Everythinglooked brighter. But the buildings were poor and over-crowded, the campus of five acres too small. It was a good fortune which enabled the directors to buy eighteen acres adjoining, and admirably adapted for the purpose.

Dr. Pearsons then said, "You need a dormitory for young men, where they can be cheaply and comfortably fed and housed, and I will give fifty thousand dollars to erect a memorial building to Dr. and Mrs. Whitman if others will erect the dormitory." Through the aid of Mrs. Billings of New York (the largest giver), Billings and Memorial halls went up simultaneously. Then Dr. Pearsons said, the girls need a dormitory as well as the boys, let others build it, and I will give fifty thousand to endowment. It was done.

The people of Walla Walla, though possessed of no surplus wealth, came nobly to the rescue and contributed several thousand dollars, and the poor professors and many students literally gave "all that they had, even all their living," in making up the required sum. And so it has been from the beginning a college built by faith and self-denial. It has still many great needs, but its friends still hope and believe that its wants will be supplied.

Some time ago the writer read the story of an orphan newsboy, a waif of the streets, but a manly little chap. He attended a mission Sunday schooland became a Christian boy. Some weeks later, one of the smart young men half-sneeringly said to the boy, as he looked at his broken shoes and tattered garments, "Well, my boy, if I believed in God as you do, I would ask Him to tell some of those rich church people to give me some better shoes and nicer clothes." The little fellow looked troubled for a moment, and then replied, "I expect He did, but they forgot."

It was one of the great characteristics of the men and women of these pages, that they listened, heard, and never "forgot."

The world to-day, and in the generation to follow, is in need of strong men and noble women. Greater problems than the fathers have solved will the sons be called to solve. Be ready for them. Mistaken Christian teachers have sometimes used the words "Prepare to die." Change them to read "Prepare to live," and may you live long and bless the world by your living. In this land of ours, the poorest can aspire to and reach out for grand achievements. The poor, half-orphan boy, conning his lessons by a pine knot fire in his grandfather Whitman's old New England home, or as he went through his classical course, and the study of his profession, then learned to be a millwright, and learned all about machinery, perhaps never dreamed of the great work he was to be called to do. Hesimply did it all well! That is the key which unlocks the future good things of earth, and swings wide open the everlasting doors of the eternal world. You are here for work in a broad field, and while you toil, be happy, joyous, contented, and make others the same. The children of earth are in partnership with the Great Ruler of the universe in the moral government of this world. His great law is love. Love is the greatest word in the language. The Bible represents God's love, as "like a flowing river." Drink deep of it, as have our heroes and heroines, and when taps are sounded, whether in the quiet of your homes or amid the yells of savage men, as befell our loved ones, you can say with St. Paul, even when the feet of his murderers echoed from the walls of his dungeon, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, thenceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness." You can sing with Tennyson in his age:

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