The mountain clergy, as a general rule, are hostile to "book larnin',"
for "there ain't no Holy Ghost in it." One of them who had spent three
months at a theological school told President Frost, "Yes, the seminary
is a good place ter go and git rested up, but 'tain't worth while fer me
ter go thar no more 's long as I've got good wind."

It used to amuse me to explain how I knew that the earth was a sphere;
but one day, when I was busy, a tiresome old preacher put the
everlasting question to me: "Do you believe the yearth is round?" An
impish perversity seized me and I answered, "No--all blamed humbug!"
"Amen!" cried my delighted catechist, "I knowed in reason you had more
sense."

In general the religion of the mountaineers has little influence on
every-day behavior, little to do with the moral law. Salvation is by
faith alone, and not by works. Sometimes a man is "churched" for
breaking the Sabbath, "cussin'," "tale-bearin'"; but sins of the flesh
are rarely punished, being regarded as amiable frailties of mankind. It
should be understood that the mountaineer's morals are "all tail-first,"
like those of Alan Breck in Stevenson's _Kidnapped_.

One of our old-timers nonchalantly admitted in court that he and a
preacher had marked a false corner-tree which figured in an important
land suit. On cross-examination he was asked:

"You admit that you and Preacher X---- forged that corner-tree? Didn't
you give Preacher X---- a good character, in your testimony? Do you
consider it consistent with his profession as a minister of the Gospel
to forge corner-trees?"

"Aw," replied the witness, "religion ain't got nothin' to do with
corner-trees!"

John Fox relates that, "A feud leader who had about exterminated the
opposing faction, and had made a good fortune for a mountaineer while
doing it, for he kept his men busy getting out timber when they weren't
fighting, said to me in all seriousness:

"'I have triumphed agin my enemies time and time agin. The Lord's on my
side, and I gits a better and better Christian ever' year.'

"A preacher, riding down a ravine, came upon an old mountaineer hiding
in the bushes with his rifle.

"'What are you doing there, my friend?'

"'Ride on, stranger,' was the easy answer. 'I'm a-waitin' fer Jim
Johnson, and with the help of the Lawd I'm goin' to blow his damn head
off.'"

But let us never lose sight of the fact that these people,
intellectually, are not living in our age. To judge