missis tells him he better cut it down for
firewood--and so it was, and split up, and sent to my cabin; and I tell
you what, honey, I was glad, 'cause somehow it seemed to 'cumber the
airth."

"Yes, Aunt Mabel, if the true love of God is not in us, we are like
fruit-trees cursed with barrenness--only fit to be cast into the fire,"
said May, sighing.

"Well, honey, I never was a professor, 'cause I never yet heard
professors agreein'. The Baptists hated the Methodists; the Methodists
hated the Presbyterians; the _Protestants_ looked down, like, on all of
'em, and they all hated each other. I never could understand it, so I
thought I'd go to heaven my own way."

"Well, Aunt Mabel, leaving these to their discords," said May, smiling
at her rude but truthful description, "did the thought never enter your
mind that _Jesus Christ_ might have established a faith and rule on
earth to guide souls, which would be upheld and governed by His Holy
Spirit until the end of time?"

"I often thought he _ought_ to, honey; but I'm a poor ignorant
creetur--what do I know?" was the _naive_ reply.

"_He did_, Aunt Mabel; and from the time he established it until now,
during eighteen hundred years it has _never_ changed; it will never
change until it exchanges for eternity its reign upon earth. All other
religions were founded by _men_,--wicked, blood-thirsty, ambitious
_men_, who wanted a broad license _to sin_, and who reserved only such
fragments of our divine faith, as would give plausibility to their new
doctrines without fettering theirs with responsibilities to spiritual
tribunals. This is _why_ all these discords, exist among _professors_.
In leaving the one faith which acknowledges one Lord and one baptism,
they have hewn out for themselves 'broken cisterns which hold no
water.' But do you understand me?"

"Yes, honey, that I do. But I'm too old and ignorant to hear larning
and argumentation. I want the faith of Jesus Christ; and it 'pears to
me that I never he'erd the true story until now. Whatever it is,
_your_ religion suits me, if you will jest show me the way. I'm gwine
down, honey, to the valley and shadow of death, and the way'll be
mighty dark without the help of the Lord."

"He will be your guide and staff, Aunt Mabel, when the dark hour
comes," said May, dashing a tear from her cheek. "But I must go away
now, and I want you to think a great deal about Almighty God, until I
come again; then tell me if you