Campbell Station is now the site of a thriving mining and manufacturing town, Middlesboro, which, financed by English capital, sprang over-night into being and prosperity. As a boom town, its founders claimed it would rival Birmingham, possibly Pittsburgh, saying: “Just across the mountain from us, easily reached through the Gap, are inexhaustible beds of iron ore, and on this side, less than a dozen miles from the ore are great veins of the finest coking and smelting coal, and our city lies between.” In building Middlesboro, Yellow Creek was made straight. The redeemed curves, filled by moving a mountain, were laid off into building lots, which sold for a price that paid expenses and rewarded the promoter. Streets were laid off and graded through the old family grave yard. The tombstone which marked the grave of Colonel Archibald Campbell and briefly reviewed his record as a colonel in the Continental Army, was placed on exhibition in the city hall. The markers of the other graves, as the earth that held the remains of the dead, was carted and dumped into the old creek bed, to redeem and transform a bend into a building lot. The Town Company was a progressive corporation, and corporations are soulless institutions, yet the recitation upon the tombstone of Calvin Campbell might have saved for it a place of honor in the city hall. But what matter, he is risen, he is present with his Lord who gives every man according as his work shall be. The inscription, after giving his name, date of birth and death read: “This monument is erected to the father of this Presbytery by shilling contributions from those persons who were brought to Christ by him. After 1,800 had contributed, the fund being sufficient, further contributions were refused.” THE MAN AND THE ELEPHANT In the name of God, the compassionate, the merciful, who created the soul and gave to the tongue words of wisdom, Listen! and I will tell you the story of a king and an elephant; of a man who rose above environment and of an elephant who was a victim of it; though this is not the rule. Let me illustrate. If a hog is shifted from the sty to a state of nature, he lifts his snout from the mud and in time acquires the courage of a wild boar; if a man returns to a state of nature, he becomes a savage. Take an Indian, educate him in your great school Harvard; if he returns to his tribe, he cuts the seat from his trousers and wraps himself in a blanket. The desert nomads, wandering over the site of the birthplace of civilization, philosophy and religion, scarcely glance at the half-buried ruins about them, and live as did their fathers five thousand years ago.