200 THE LIGHT OF DAT 



the old Scotch woman, lying there on her back in 

 her bed, holds the accustomed family prayers. Her 

 voice is low and feeble, but her faith is strong, her 

 eye is bright, and her spirit serene. Long ago she 

 left her native hills for this new country ; now she is 

 about to leave this for another country in the exist- 

 ence of which beyond that dark ocean she has never 

 had the slightest doubt, nor the slightest doubt as to 

 the means to be employed to secure an interest there. 



What is the merit of the feeling which prompts 

 us to say, " How touching, how beautiful," and that 

 fills us with a vague regret that such a faith is im- 

 possible to us ? We could not feel so in the pre- 

 sence of the ancient superstitions, the bleeding vic- 

 tims on the altar, or the devotee perishing in the arms 

 of his idol. Hence our feeling, our regret, is not 

 a tribute to sincerity alone, or to courage, or to 

 heroism. It is mainly a tribute to the past, to the 

 memory of our fathers who held this faith, to our 

 mothers who distilled it into our minds in infancy, 

 to the old creeds and institutions which have played 

 so large a part in the culture and development of 

 our race. 



We are like the western emigrant turning to take 

 a last view of the home of his youth and the land of 

 his fathers. The old ties draw us, we are filled with 

 a deep longing and regret; a little more and we 

 would go back and abide there forever. The new 

 world of faith, the great western world, which this 

 generation is fast entering, and which the next gen- 

 eration will more completely take possession of, is 



