ground still firm beneath his feet. Hope, which appeared to have bid him farewell, now unveiled her calm, benignant face, and smiled again upon him. He looked into his Bible, which had been neglected, and there he found the same promises, the same exhortations, the same threatenings, as he had seen before. No alteration had taken place in the text of the Sacred Volume. The Saviour was there still, in all his fulness, in all his freshness-the waters of salvation were as clear and sweet as ever they were and the invitation was still, "Whosoever will, let him take of it freely." What is wrong with me, said Amicus, and he rubbed his eyes. He had cried out, "Oh, that I might know where to find him! I would order my cause before him, and fill my mouth with arguments." But here HE was still, sitting where he had ever been, on a throne of grace and love, extending the regal sceptre to all who came within his. courts, and granting peace, and light, and joy, to those who craved his favour. "Oh, my God," Amicus cried, "I have circumscribed thy salvation and thy grace-I have doubted thy free love and thy free favourand been aiming to walk by sight, and not by faith." He now hegan to suspect that all was wrong in his religious system-that he must have built upon a wrong foundation-that he had mistaken the great end of religion – and that he had been substituting HIMSELF for the truth which he had been seeking. He found that in all his new-imbibed ideas, he had seldom kneeled down before he embraced them, and prayed the Great Fountain of wisdom to enlighten his mind-he had rushed with bold and reckless haste, into the hidden things, the unrevealed matters of the Almightyand even in the things revealed, he had exercised his imagination instead of his judgment. Now, he kneeled down-now he prayed for that wisdom which cometh down from above-and, gradually, peace and composure regained possession of his mind; and the troubled waters of a morbid imagination subsided to a calm, which was the more pleasing and delight-. ful after the storm.

Amicus now resolved to reject all his fancies and his whims, and walk quietly in the old way and beaten path of righteousness; concluding it. better to leave it to others to hunt for truth, than to break his own head and heart in the chace. Alas! it is said there is no peace to the wicked-and poor Amicus, though striving to walk in the narrow road, concluded there was to be no peace for him. A new dilemma awaited him-in the present state of the Christian world, divided into sects and parties, he could not hold communion with all, and he could not stand aloof from all. He was just where he was when he began the search-with this difference, that he was quite indisposed to begin it over again. He sighed for primitive simplicity, but it was gone with the years before the flood! He looked at the aspect of the Christian world, and it seemed broken into segments— diversified by many-coloured strata-but which, instead of running in parallel lines, intersected each other at angles of all sorts and sizes. Church, instead of looking forth, fair as the morn, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners, resembled a scattered and a divided host, "faint, yet pursuing." He sighed, and almost sickened at the sight. Oh, that she would fling away those petty differences which weaken her strength and impede her powers-gather herself up like a giant refreshed with wine and go forth to the help of the Lord against the mighty! A gleam of hope dawned upon Amicus. A single individual, when his heart is right, may do a great deal of good. What could or would hinder Amicas from calling the attention of Christians to the duty and expediency of a Catholic union? The very idea was charming. He felt his heart beat

VOL. XI.

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The

with joy at the prospect of having his talents usefully employed; and he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and breathed a hasty prayer that he might be the humble and the honoured instrument of effecting a change so great, so glorious, and so good. Down he sat, to draw out a plan for a grand combination. The state dignity of the Establishment was to be loweredthe vulgarity of the Methodists was to be improved-the sternness of the Presbyterian was to be softened-the rough garment of John the dipper was to be smoothed down-the pride of the Independent was to be laid low-and all the fry of small sects were to be charmed out of their holes and corners at the sound of the music, and the blast of the union trumpet-while last, though not least, the tribes of Ephraim, and the half tribe of Manasseh, abstracted from their spiritual abstractions, were to be seen slowly and deliberately moving up to join the camp, their coats angled, and their broad brims cut-and the surety and the certainty of their allegiance to the cause, certified by a yea, yea. Nothing could be finer than such an idea. Amicus saw the whole scene before him- be saw the Macedonian phalanx drawn up in battle array; and as the sun of righteousness shoue upon its burnished armour, the brilliant reflection scared the Socinian, and Arian, and Infidel birds of prey, that were hovering around, and sent them screeching, hooting, and flapping their wings, into the den of darkness from which they sprung.

No time was to be lost, for every moment was precious. Amicus wrote letters-copied out his plans-and strove by every figure of speech, to rouse and alarm the sons of Zion to the guilt of disunion, and the immediate necessity for a general effort. He showed how Antichrist could not stand such a sight-that the very thought would paralyse his frame, preparatory to his giving up the ghost-the angel was about to fling the mill-stone into the sea, and the other angel was stretching his wings, to take his wondrous flight in the midst of heaven, and proclaim the everlasting Gos. pel round the globe. No man could resist such reasoning; and accordingly, Amicus carried his papers and his plans to a friend, to take his advice as to the first things to be done, or the first persons addressed. The papers were read, and the plans detailed; but his friend was silent, or evidently endeavouring to suppress a smile. "What do you think?" asked Amicus. Nothing," "Nothing! what makes you smile?" "I was reading a book called the Spiritual Quixotte, the other day, and—” Amicus gathered up his papers, and rushing out of the house, scampered off like a hare before the wind. He tumbled into bed-wondered that he had never before found out that he had but one eye and after calling himself an ass and a fool, fell asleep. Next morning he awoke, and was astonished at the view his pillow had enabled him to take of the subject. He saw it all at once. Even now are all Christians united-the prayer the Redeemer is fulfilled-they are ONE, even as the Triune God is ONE. They are one in atoning blood-they are one in sanctifying grace-they are one in the heaven to which they go--they are one in spite of themselves, here, and they will be one to all eternity. "I see it all," said Amicus, and I might have seen it before. We might as well try to kick the mountains into the sea, as attempt, instantaneously, to lop off the prejudices of men in religious matters. Time will work it-the diffusion of knowledge will work it-co-operation will work it-and men will yet become as united together as the nature of the human mind will permit. But what am I to do? I am neither a Churchman or a Dissenter; and had Amicus not been taught by experience, he might have fallen into another fit of amazement. But something seemed to whisper what he ought

of

to do. Mind your business-walk humbly with your God-walk by patient faith on the Son of God-learn to suffer God's will, as well as to do it read your Bible, not with the intention of making curious discoveries, but for the purpose of elevating your soul-purifying your heartbringing thought, and word, and deed into subjection to the principle of holiness. Be ye holy, as God is holy. But the imagination of Amicus was not so easily subdued. "Be holy, as God is holy!" How is God holy? What is holiness? It is the reverse of sin. And what is sin? A breaking of the law of God. Then God has given us a law, and the keeping of that law is holiness. But how can God be holy, for there is no law given to God? He is not a man, neither the son of man-he is above and beyond all law" throned in his own unfathomable essence, and uniting in his wondrous Being, the extremes of eternity." How is God holy? still he asked; but received no reply. "Oh," he exclaimed, "this world in which we live, and move, and die, is a world of mystery and wonder. There was an eternity before this earth's creation, as vast, as tremendous, as the eternity which shall be, when all upon it shall be burned up. And in this eternity God resides-his being is a mystery awfully unutterable; and yet we are required to be holy, as he is holy! Oh, when will my doubts and my distractions cease!" Something startled him. To be holy, is to be happy. God is infinitely happy-he is infinitely holy. This is the explanation, he joyfully said-God wills us to be happy, as he is happy; and thus it is He wills us to be holy, as He is holy. He turned from the contemplation of the Being of God, to the character of the Saviour, He had never seen it in the light he did now, even amid all his searching and his seeking. He had been apparently ever learning, and never able rightly to come to the knowledge of the truth. He looked at the Saviour again, and in "God manifest in the flesh," he saw a dutiful son, a kind friend, a good master, A GOOD MAN. He looked at him again, and he appeared lovelier still. "Saviour, dear' Saviour, I will, by thy good Spirit, follow thy steps. I will endeavour humbly to fulfil my duties in society; to subdue my passions; to bring down my pride, which all along, unknown to myself, has been my ruinand endeavour to be found looking forward to that state of pure enjoyment which is beyond the grave."

To the astonishment of Amicus he had now arrived at the conclusion of his search after a PURE CHURCH. Like the Roman governor, he had asked, "What is truth ?" but like him, had not waited for a reply. Now, he saw that it mattered not what Church he belonged to, if that Church did not hold out what God himself held out as the only means of man's restoration to holiness and happiness. Moreover, he saw that the divisions of PROTESTANTISM proceeded not from itself, but from the weakness, the ignorance, the pride and the prejudice of the MIND of fallen man. These divisions were on minor points; the great doctrines of Justification by Faith, without the deeds of the law, and the renewing of the soul by the Spirit of God, were held complete and entire by every true Protestant. Therefore, said Amicus, will I join that Church which, with all its faults, holds out these two grand and healing doctrines as the only hope of erring creatures; and which, with all its inefficiency, possesses the most powerful and the most effective means of propagating, throughout the breadth and extent of the land, their gladdening and cheering influences. If "sin be a reproach to any people," then whatsoever propagates to the greatest extent that "righteousness which exalteth a nation," is worthy of the support of all who value the peace and the happiness of the country in which

they dwell. And God grant that the time may soon come, when every FALSE RELIGION shall lie, Dagon-like, prostrate before the Ark-and Christianity--pure, Bible, PROTESTANT Christianity, be NATIONALIZED in every kingdom of our globe!

F.

A DAY AT LOUGH-PATRICK.

THERE is always a great deal of wisdom in the policy which characterizes the discipline and superstitious usages of the Church of Rome. If there be a natural curiosity in any part of the country, she immediately takes it up, and annexes to it some fable or legend likely to bring money into her coffers. In Lough Derg, for instance, the station is laid just at a time when the labour of the peasantry is slack, for the old calculatress knew right well, that if appointed in the seasons of employment, it would be comparatively unproductive. If a clear stream issues out of a rock, or settles into a well at its base, and if it be surrounded by sharp-pointed stones, calculated to inflict injury upon the naked feet or knees of the million, she instantly plants a station there, whose performance constitutes an act of penance. In England, before the Reformation, how convenient a proof of miracle was the Glastonbury Thorn, which blossomed at Christmas! And in Ireland there is not a parish whose hills, and rocks, and wells are not associated with some cunningly devised fable, that has left the trail of its grossness behind it. One of these I will detail; but, as I have not the faculty of description in such power as those who depict these things in your admirable magazine, I must before-hand beg of your readers to be contented with a well-meant but feeble effort. The place in which the scene of this superstition lies, is in the upper part of the county Tyrone. The lake is small; its margin surrounded mostly by a boggy marsh, from which rise small round hillocks, like stepping stones, and indeed they are used as such by those who perform the stations. It is also hemmed in by hills, particularly on one side. The lake is but small, though very well adapted, by the nature of its margin, for the purposes to which it had beeu applied.

But before I give an account of the station, I think it right to relate the incident upon which it is said to have been founded.

There was, during the time of St. Patrick, a man living in that neighbourhood called Oinogh O'Neil, an ancestor, it is presumed, of the celebrated Owen O'Neil, from whom the county of Tyrone, or Teer-Owen, was called. At all events he must have been one of the old stock, from whom the chieftains of that name were descended. This man was remarkable for being the most extensive grazier in the province of Ulster; the hills for miles about him were black with cattle, and his valleys white with sheep. His very pigs were so fat, that he never missed a prize from the farming societies that were held in those enlightened times. Every summer evening his bawn was covered with cows at milking-time, and perfumed with that sweetest of all odours-their breath. Fifty Irish milk-maids sang the praises of their god Baal, who sent them the cow to milk, and the corn for bread, and fifty grand-fathers passed fifty of their grand-children through his sacred fires, upon the eve of his general worship, which corresponds to our month of May, the Irish for which is Baal-tinne, or the fires of Baal. He was, in fact, a very wealthy and idolatrous old magian-rich in cattle, and grain, and wore as much woollen drapery in his coat, as would be

large and fine enough in texture to make a dozen blankets of the present day. His lands, of course, were extensive, and his serfs numerous and happy, if we except the chance to which they were exposed of being fattened for sacrifice by their master, who was remarkable for the excellence of his victims-so well adapted to promote human happiness has idolatry been in all ages. Oinogh, along with being drenched in the murder of his religion, was a bitter enemy to Christianity, and never permitted a Christian to come within the bounds of his territories. The manner in which he treated them was this:-Whenever he could succeed in securing one, he had him put into the field which skirted the place of sacrifice. This was strongly enclosed, for it served in winter as a fold for the cattle, and a security at night, with the assistance of the shepherds and their fires, against the wolves, which were exceedingly numerous in woods that have been swept away for centuries, as well as the animals to which they gave shelter. In this enclosure he kept a dozen of bisons of the old Irish breed, and of the fiercest possible description; and, it would seem that their enmity against Christians was as inveterate as that of their owner. This, however, might proceed from their education, which was perfected by a course of training to destroy as many as Oinogh could expose to them in their greatest state of ferocity, much in the manner in which Daniel was exposed to the lions, or the Roman criminals to the wild beasts of the amphitheatre. And here we may remark upon the similarity which the idolatry of the ancient Irish bore to that of the East, both before and after it was extended to, and modified by, the Greeks and Romans.

One day, during a long drought, Oinogh saw a man passing near his mud castle, whom he instantly recognized by his dress to be a Christian, for he bore a missal in one hand and a crozier in the other. The choler of the magian was instantly up, and he sent out a pair of his fiercest bloodhounds after him, with certain expectation that they would, on overtaking him, tear his body to pieces. The dogs flew with the velocity of light in pursuit of the solitary man; but, no sooner did they come up to him, than with fear and trembling they crouched down at his feet, and the traveller rubbing his hand along their backs, from the head downwards, the hair which, says the legend, had grown before that time up towards the head, grew at once in a contrary direction. "Henceforth," said he, "in remembrance of the respect and forbearance you have shown me, let the hair of every dog grow in the direction in which I have drawn my hand." "Accordingly,' says the legend, and say the peasantry to this day, "it has grown so ever since." Oinogh, however, was not satisfied, but immediately dispatched a number of his active goat-herds, remarkable for their swiftness of foot, in pursuit of him. The stranger, on finding himself sought after so earnestly, quickened his walk a little, and occasionally looked behind him. His pursuers, however, pressed on him more rapidly, and he stretched out before them with proportionate vigour, until, at length, he made a most astonishing display of celerity, and put the celebrated Cush-suillish,† or light-foot, to his utmost speed, in order to overtake him.

At length he was secured; but, judge of their astonishment on finding bim a middle-aged man, untired and unexhausted, without a pulse beyond the calmness of meditation itself.

Oinogh had witnessed the pursuit from the top of his own house, where

• See Herghfadh's Ranns in the Duke of Parma's library, as given by "O'Laig." +This epithet is far more beautiful than the common idea attached to light-foot, as I have translated it. It signifies "foot of light."