If any one were to be asked what is the permanent element in human existence, and if he were to think deeply before answering the question, he would be compelled to admit that thought—not things, nor even persons —withstood the shocks of time and circumstance; being first the scaffolding, and later the solid masonry of individual character.
So as I endeavor to recall that which makes up my personal history, almost my earliest recollection is of a very old church in Scotland,—said to have been built before the Reformation,—and a truly fitting monument of those
who swept from Scotland in a flame of zeal
Shrine, altar, image, and the massive piles that harbored them.
