“William, I am, or I would be, a Christian; and when I have given myself to _you_ and to God, I would have no reserve in my heart from either, and therefore, before the sacrifice was made, as the daughter of the Judge of Israel went forth upon the high-places of her land to mourn, so I came hither to weep for what I was to leave, and to leave that for which I wept. The last sacrifice upon the altar of my fathers and my fathers’ deities has been made. I have torn from my heart the flowers which grew upon the Indian’s belief, and have prayed that the tree of life may over-shadow the wild plants, that they blossom not again. I have taken down from the recesses of my soul, the gods which my mother enshrined there, and have taken leave of the living and the dead of my father’s race. And now, William, now my beloved one, I am thine—thine in all seasons and all changes—thine, loving and loved; but, oh, do not forget that my mind, though dedicated to Christianity now, has been the _home_ of the red man’s creed, and may yet while it is sanctified by the new altar, reflect something of itself, its other self upon the purer worship, as the temples dedicated to the pagan god seem to cast some air of their origin upon the new and sanctified rites which they now enclose; and in moments of feeling, or when some additional wrong to my fathers’ race is done in the name of our new creed, bear with me, if for a moment, I forget the blessed teaching of the gospel, and yield to the earlier influences of blood, of education and patriotism. It shall not be often, not for the world. Henceforth, my beloved one, I am thine; all of childhood’s home—all of a people’s wrongs—all of a nation’s faith and a nation’s gods, are given up—and all of thine adopted. Thy breast shall be my pillow in trouble, and thy smile my token of joy; thy welfare shall be my happiness, thy dwelling shall be my home, ‘thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.’” William pressed to his heart the confiding, beautiful girl; and they turned to leave the eminence upon which they stood, and to join the family below. The exceeding beauty of the morning induced them to look once more and admire the scene. The whole broad river below them seemed one floating mass of light; and as the current passed on, its surface was disturbed by the boughs of the overhanging trees that dipped into the water, and created ripples that reflected all the hues of the moving light. The mountains in the west seemed clothed in gorgeous sunbeams, and nature appeared to have assumed her richest garb, to bless the nuptials that were about to take place. “I love this scene,” said Rebecca, “it tranquilizes me—it soothes my spirit, it elevates without agitating my mind—such a morning is a teacher of religion.” “The Spirit of God is teaching every where,” said William.