the terrors and fears of man.

As I put my

foot into the boat, and pushed off from the island, I observed that the priest's house which was contiguous to the little pier that served as a place for embarking and disembarking, had a large window that fully commanded the ferry, and from whence could be observed the whole line of march of the pilgrims, as they descended from the ridge of hills that surrounded the lake and approached the ferry; in fact, no man could draw near the ferry, or embark for the island without being accurately noticed by one stationed in this window. And as we rowed away from the island, I busied my mind with supposing the various characters of priests and friars that have sat in that window, observing the freights of human folly that were discharged from this little boat before their eyes. I fancied one, a man, who had from his infancy to manhood, year after year, taken up a new trammel of submissiveness to authority under the bearing-down system of Popery, until his intellect was enveloped

amidst the cords that tied it up; and there he sat, deluded and deluding- the slave of a talisman, which, if he had the courage to strike with one vigorous thought, would have shivered into atoms.-Another I fancied as one who gloated on the lucre of the craft, and who sat in his window, counting the coming pilgrims-his avaricious heart beating quick with delight, as he measured the boatfuls of people coming over to add to the store of money he was collecting, and which was to him as a God; and then I conceived another ecclesiastic sitting sadly in that casement; every deep line in his countenance denoting the inward struggles and discontent that consumed him-sitting there as the abettor of a fraud that his soul revolted at-acting there a part in a drama that at one time forced him unfeignedly to laugh, and at another time to weep; and yet still without courage to break through the guards that custom, associations, and the frown of others drew around him-with the deep compunctions of the guilty--without the

courage of a martyr-the Breviary he was forced to read-his abomination—the Bible, which some secret force impelled him to examine, his accuser, and at the same time convincer-thus a child of light walking in darkness, who would not mourn over, yes, and find excuses too for such a man, when in the gaudy vestments that covered his abased body and his suffering soul, he administered those rites he knew were idolatrous; and took a part in those absurd and monstrous superstitions which he felt were as contrary to the simplicity of the Gospel, and the truth as it is in Jesus, as darkness is to the risen light.

The only picturesque object I observed, as we rowed towards shore, was a little island in the centre of the Lough, on which there was a hut. It was an interesting object for the eye to rest on, as the only human habitation within the whole scope of vision in the vicinity of Lough Derg-all else around its shores, waste and desolation; and it immediately struck me that this little cabin,

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on this speck of an island, was the solitary cell of some devoted ascetic. But on inquiry, I found from my companions in the boat, that it was no such thing-it was built by a poteen distiller; and there occasionally, and to answer the demands of the resorting pilgrims, he provides a supply of that article, which seems intimately connected with the devotions of the lower classes of the Irish Roman Catholics; from north to south, wherever I observed a holy well, or holy station, there was always adjoining some place for the sale of strong liquors-yes, even now, wherever piety erects a new chapel, cupidity soon sees the gain of constructing a public house.

Before we landed I ascertained from my cautious conductor that the present Purgatorial Island which we had just left, was not the one always resorted to, nor indeed the one that was consecrated by St. Patrick; and as it appears that the Romish schoolmen are not agreed as to the precise spot where purgatory is located: so the Romish priesthood,

until that knotty point is settled, have arrogated to themselves the right of changing the position of Patrick's Purgatory. The clerk of the present purgatory confessed that the present island has been used for that purpose, but comparatively at a late period; and he pointed out an island due north of the present station, which is called the Saint's Island, and which he said was the one St. Patrick sanctified, and wherein he opened a passage to the real purgatory under ground.

The position of this larger island agrees with the description of Coppinger and Jones, written two hundred years ago; and it is probable, that when by the direction of the Council Board, Sir William Stuart invaded and uprooted this nest of superstition in the seventeenth century, that the priests migrated to the present isle. My old and cunning friend, so far passed beyond the bounds of his caution as to assign a substantial reason for this change of purgatory." The old island, Sir, was too near the shore, and in summer time, the people could come from