She was an honest girl so far as she had been taught--perhaps not so far as she might have been without having been taught.

How was she to think aright with scarce a glimmer of God's truth?
How was she to please God, as she called it, who thought of him in a way repulsive to every loving soul?
How was she to be accepted of God, who did not accept her own neighbour, but looked down, without knowing it, upon so many of her fellow-creatures?
How should such a one either enjoy or recommend her religion?
It would have been the worse for her if she had enjoyed it--the worse for others if she had recommended it! Religion is simply the way home to the Father.

There was little of the path in her religion except the difficulty of it.

The true way is difficult enough because of our unchildlikeness--uphill, steep, and difficult, but there is fresh life on every surmounted height, a purer air gained, ever more life for more climbing.

But the path that is not the true one is not therefore easy.
Up hill is hard walking, but through a bog is worse.