TO THE EDITOR OF THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINER.

SIR-I do not know whether you may consider it unbecoming the dignity of the Christian Examiner, to notice so comparatively trivial a matter as that to which I now desire to call your attention. If it meets your approbation, however, I should be glad to bring the subject before your readers, both because, though small in itself, its effects may be great, and highly injurious; and also, because the sanction of your well known and respected name, will lend my humble observations a weight and influence they could otherwise in vain hope to deserve or obtain. Many persons, and, perhaps, you, Sir, among others, in common with myself, have been grieved to see in the annual reports of our invaluable religious societies, so many and considerable sums charged for sundry incidental expenses. I would be far indeed from complaining of any fair and reasonable expenditure in things really necessary, or thinking for a moment that time, trouble, and labour should not be requited in one part of the Lord's work as well as another-for instance, I cannot at all see why a rich beneficed rector who preaches the Gospel, should have enough and to spare given him for his pains, and a poor hardworking secretary who circulates it, should be left to starve. But I think that the very nature of religious societies implies a spirit and motive above those of ordinary life, and therefore, that in their management this should be preserved as much as possible, and to that end the utmost economy especially, should be used, and the expenditure limited to what is absolutely necessary.

Indeed, I think that all such institutions have now great need to beware of a worldly spirit, and I fear most of them have in the detail of their management, imbibed far too much both of worldly principle and practice. "What do ye more than others," seems to be the scriptural touchstone of Christian sincerity and exertion, and in proportion as religious societies fall below this standard, their high and holy character must be lowered in the eyes of the world, and, consequently, their usefulness greatly lessened.

But besides this we should remember that their funds are a sacred deposit cast into the Lord's treasury for the advancement of the glory of God, the Redeemer's kingdom, and the salvation of immortal souls, and, therefore, any misapplication of them is the worst species of sacrilege. Surely then the minor and local arrangements of such institutions should show as much as possible that they are conducted in a manner, and upon principles very different from those of the world, and regulated with the strictest attention to economy.

I have been led, Mr. Examiner, to make these observations by having received very lately a communication from the- Society, written on beautiful vellum paper, wire-wove, hot-pressed, and I dare say, twenty other fine names if I knew them, and moreover, with gilt edges. Now really Sir, when I tell you, that in order to contribute to the funds of that and other Societies (and I hope to double my mite next year) I deny myself not only gilt, but also fine paper, and reduce my expences in every other branch of even

necessary things, as much as possible, for the same purpose, think I may venture to say, that it is very inconsistent to see so needless a waste as I have mentioned, of what I and others are really obliged to deny ourselves in order to be able to contribute.* It is at least very discouraging to increased exertion, especially as the year's report of the Society, will probably present an item of £20 or £30 charged for the single article of stationary.

But, perhaps, it may be said these remarks are unkind and invidious. I can only reply they are not intended as such. On the contrary, I love and honour Bible, Missionary, and School Societies above all human institutions whatsoever, and while I am able, under the Divine blessing, I will support them with my poor prayers, and contributions. At the same time, however, I am of opinion, that they ought to be regulated in every department with a minute and conscientious regard to strict economy. I may add too, that there are some societies whose reports shew, that of the fragments they have gathered, (hardly indeed to be called twelve baskets full,) "nothing is lost."

Perhaps, Sir, some of your able and experienced friends would give us a little serious and salutary advice on this subject, and so assist the inability, and supply the deficiencies of your humble servant and constant reader,

POLITELOS.

PILGRIMAGE TO PATRICK'S PURGATORY.

[Concluded from page 286.]

THE next morning when I awoke, I joined with all haste the aggregate crowds that proceeded in masses towards the lake-the Purgatory-which lies amongst the hills that extend to the northeast of Petigo. While ascending the bleak, uninteresting, hideous mountainous range, whose ridge commands a full view of this celebrated scene of superstition, the manner and appearance of the pilgrims were deeply interesting. Such groupings as pressed forward around me would have made fine studies either for him who wished to deplore or to ridicule the degradations and absur dities of human nature; indeed there was an intense interest in the scene. I look back at this moment with awe towards the tremulous and high-strained vibration of my mind, as it responded to the excitement. Reader, have you ever approached the eternal city? have you ever, from the dreary solitudes of the Campagna, seen the dome of St. Peter's for the first time? and have the monuments of the greatest men and the mightiest deeds that ever the earth witnessed-have the names of the Cæsars, and the Catos, and the Scipios, excited a curiosity amounting to a sensation almost too intense to be borne? I think I can venture to measure the expansion of your mind, as it enlarged itself before the

* How much less then in conscience can we ask subscriptions for the support of the most desirable objects, of those who are themselves in want of the comforts, the decencies and even the necessaries of life? yet we need the poor man's penny, as much as the rich man's pound,

crowding visions of the past, as the dim grandeur of ages rose up and developed itself from amidst the folds of time; and entranced amidst the magic of your own associations, you desired to stopyou were almost content to go no farther-your own Rome, you were in the midst of Rome free-Rome triumphant-Rome classical. And perhaps it is well you awoke in good time from your shadowy dream, to escape from the unvaried desolation and the wasting malaria that brooded all around. Reader, I can fancy that such might have been your sensations when the domes and spires of the world's capital first met your vision; and I can well assure you, that while ascending the ridge that was to give me a view of Patrick's Purgatory, my sensations were as impressively as powerfully excited. For I desire you to recollect, that the welfare of your immortal soul was not connected with your imaginings; your magnificent visions did not penetrate into the soul's doom. You were not straining your imagination to grasp those fantasies that belong to the victim of a gloomy and superstitious dogma. You were not submitted to the agency of a transcendental power. You were, in a word, a poet, but not a fanatic. What comparison, then, could there be between the exercise of your cultivated understanding, free and manly though it was, with my feelings on this occasion-with my thick-coming visions of immortality, that almost lifted me from the mountainous path I was ascending, and brought me, as it were into contact with the invisible world-I repeat it, then, that such were my feelings when all the faculties which exist in the mind, were aroused and concentrated upon one object. In such a case, the pilgrim stands, as it were, between life and death, and as it was superstition that placed him there, she certainly conjures up to his heated fancy those dark, fleeting, and indistinct images, which are best adapted to that gloom which she has already cast over his mind. Although there could not be less than two hundred people, young and old, boys and girls, men and women, the hale and the sickly, the blind and the lame, all climbing to gain the top with as little delay as possible, yet was there scarcely a sound, certainly not a word to be heard among them. For my part, I plainly heard the palpitations of my heart, both loud and quick. Had I been told that the veil of eternity was about to be raised before me in this life, I could scarcely have felt more intensely. Several females were obliged to rest for some time, to gain both physical and moral strengthone fainted; and two or three old men were obliged to sit down. All were praying-every crucifix was out-every bead in requisition; and nothing broke a silence so solemn, but a low, monotonous murmur of devotion; although perhaps at that moment there was not a single heart engaged in the prayers which the mouth was uttering. But this is the Church of Rome still—all effect, all excitement, arising from the influence of external objects-all sensation-whilst the heart is untouched, and the mind unenlightened in any sense worthy the majesty of God, or the object of an immortal spirit.

As soon as we ascended the hill, the whole scene was instantly

before us: a large lake, surrounded by an amphitheatre of
mountains, bleak, uncomfortable, and desolate. In the lake it-
self, about half a mile from the edge next us, was to be seen the
Island," with two or three slated houses on it, naked, and
unplastered, as desolate looking almost as the mountains. A
little range of exceeding low hovels, which the German dwarf
could scarcely enter without stooping, appeared to the left; and
the
eye could rest on nothing more, except a living mass of human
beings crawling slowly about, like worms on a dead dog. The
first thing the pilgrim does when he gets a sight of the lake, is to
prostrate himself, kiss the earth, and then on his knees offer up
three Paters and Aves, for the favour of being permitted to see this
blessed place. When this is over, he descends to the lake, and,
after paying tenpence to the ferryman, is rowed over to the pur-
gatory. When the whole view was presented to me, I stood for
some time to contemplate it; and I cannot better illustrate the
reaction which took place in my mind, than by saying that it re-
sembles that aukward inversion which a man's proper body ex-
periences, when, on going to pull something from which he ex-
pects a marvellous resistance, it comes with him at a touch, and
the natural consequence is, that he finds his head down and his
heels up. That which dashed the whole scene from the dark
elevation in which the romance of devotion had placed it, was the
appearance of slated houses, and of the smoke that curled from
the hovels and the Prior's residence. This at once brought me
back to humanity; and the idea of roasting meat, boiling pots,
and dressing dinners, dispossessed every fine and fearful image
which had floated through my imagination for the last twelve
hours. In fact, allowing for the difference of situation, it nearly
resembled John's Well, or James' Fair, when beheld at a dist-
ance, turning the slated houses into inns, the tents into hovels,
and the priests into jugglers. A certain idea, slight, untraceable,
and involuntary, went over my brain on that occasion, which,
though it did not then cost me a single effort, of reflection, I think
was revived and developed at a future period of my life, and be-
came, perhaps to a certain extent, the means of opening a wider
range of thought to my mind, and of giving a new tone to my
existence. Still, however, there was nothing except my idea of
its external appearance disappointed; I accordingly descended
with the rest, and in a short time found myself among the living
mass upon the island. The first thing I did was to hand over
my three cakes of oaten bread, which I had got made in Petigo,

tied
the care of the owner of one of the huts; having first, by the
way, undergone a second prostration on touching the island, and
greeted it with fifteen holy kisses, and another string of prayers.
I then, according to the regulations, should commence the sta-
tions, lacerated as my feet were after so long a journey; so that
I had not a moment to rest. Think, therefore, what I must have
suffered, on surrounding a large chapel, in the direction of from
east to west, along a pavement of stone spikes, every one of
them making its way along my nerves and muscles to my unfor-

in a
up handkerchief, as well as my hat and second shirt, to

tunate brain. I was absolutely stupid and dizzy with the pain, the praying, the justling, the elbowing, the scrambling, and the uncomfortable penitential grunting of the whole crowd. I knew not what I was about, but went through the forms in the same mechanical dead spirit which pervaded all present. As for that solemn, humble, and heartfelt sense of God's presence, which Christian prayer demands, its existence in the mind would not only be a moral but a physical impossibility in Lough Dearg.The terms of salvation, as offered in the word of God, and the simple, unencumbered views of man's fallen nature, and of God's mercy in enabling him by faith in Christ to raise himself from his natural state of sin, do not belong to the place. If these doctrines were known, salvation would not be made, as in the present instance, to depend on locality. There is nothing there but rosaries to the blessed Virgin-prayers and litanies to dead men and women, called Saints-acts of faith, hope, and charity, economically performed by repeating them from memory, or by reading them from books. There is confession, penance to the eyes, and repetition of forms of prayers; but seldom repentance or prayer. As I said before, they could not be felt here. How could a creature, with feet spliced and cut up, address the Almighty Father of the universe, limping about, too, like a cripple, upon the villainous spikes above-mentioned, without being guilty of impiety and insult to the Deity? But if it be not calculated to excite religion in the heart, it is right well adapted to delude the sinner; and in a church which, contrary to reason and Scripture, ascribes merit in the sight of God to human works, it is no wonder that it has attained such eminence. For I verily think, that if mortification of the body, without conversion of the life or heart-if penance, and not repentance, could save the soul, no wretch who performed a pilgrimage here, could with a good grace be damned. Out of hell the place is matchless, and if there be a purgatory in the other world, it may very well be said that there is a fair rehearsal of it in the county of Donegal in Ireland!

When I commenced my station, I started from what is called the "Beds," and God help St. Patrick if he lay upon them: they are sharp stones placed circularly in the earth, with the spike ends of them up, one circle within another; and the manner in which the pilgrim gets as far as the innermost, resembles precisely that in which school-boys enter the walls of Troy upon their slates. I moved away from these upon the sharp stones with which the whole island is surfaced, keeping the Chapel, or Prison," as it is called, upon my right; then turning, I came round again, with a circumbendibus, to the spot from which I set out. During this circuit, as well as I can remember, I repeated fifty-five paters and aves, and five creeds, or five decades; and be it known, that the fifty prayers were offered up to the Virgin Mary, and the odd five to God! I then commenced getting round the external beds, during which I repeated, I think, fifteen paters and aves more; and as the beds decreased in circumference, the prayers decreased in length, until a short circuit and three paters and aves finished the last and innermost of these