disembark as quickly as may be, and pass up at
once along the lane formed by houses from
the water's edge, which opens into a small,
irregular space of craggy ground, with a
chapel (the principal one) at its extremity;
and this space is alive with people pursuing
one another barefoot along a course, marked
out by rough stones, which leads them in
regular succession round a series of little
circles, called Saints' Beds. Each is absorbed
by his or her own set of beads; though not
so much so as to hinder here and there
some peripatetic or delicate feet from making
an effort to pick and choose among the
sharp-cornered stones which beset the journey;
while those who have gone shoeless all their
lives, have clearly the advantage, and step
along carelessly over rough and smooth; nor
is more or less suffering in this respect, said
to make any difference in the merit of the
station; though some, I believe, think otherwise.
What adds to the peculiarity of the scene
is, that the head-dresses of the men consist of
tightly-tied handkerchiefs of various colours,
with a sprinkling of woollen night-caps.

The circuit is performed in the following
manner:—Starting from the broken stem of
an ancient stone cross, about four feet high,
and carved with a spiral embellishment,
each Stationer goes seven times round the
chapel, repeating a decade each time; after
the seventh, he stands with his back against
a cross cut into one of the stones of the
chapel, and stretching out his arms, declares
his renunciation of the World, the Flesh, and
the Devil. His next movement is to the
furthest Bed, consisting of a circle of perhaps
nine feet in diameter almost surrounded by
an uneven grey wall about three feet high,
an opening in which gives access to the interior,
where stands a time and lip- worn cross
of stone; and here he goes round outside the
wall three times, saying three Paters and Aves;
kneels and says three more; rises and walks
round inside the wall three times, saying
three Paters and Aves, kneels and says three
more, and then kisses the central cross.
After this he passes to the next Bed, where
the same formula is observed; thence to
another; and thence to a fourth; after which
comes the " Big Bed," resembling two of the
others placed side by side, over which spread
the leaves of a dwarf sycamore, almost the
only bit of vegetation on the island. This
bed must be encircled nine times without, and
six times within. The next stage is to the
water's edge on the eastern shore, where ten
Paters and Aves are repeated standing, and
as many kneeling. The practice of wading
into the lake, which existed not long ago, has
been forbidden, as well as that of carrying
stones away as memorials. This latter
prohibition, by the way, may have arisen out of
no unreasonable fear that the island, being
small, and composed chiefly of stones, would,
by degrees, be completely carried off by the
pilgrims. From the shore the Stationer
proceeds to a rock on a rising ground, and there
repeats two more Paters and Aves standing,
and two kneeling; after which, returning to
the twisted cross whence he first set out, he
kisses it, and repairs to the western shore to
wash his feet; so finishing one Station, during
which one full Rosary has been repeated. A
Stationer who is experienced in his duties,
makes his tongue and feet move so
harmoniously together, that each prayer comes
in at precisely the proper part of the
journey, without either hurry or delay. A
Station ended, the pilgrim is at liberty for a
time, in some instances spent in meditation or
grave discourse; in others, in chat, smoking,
and idleness.

After looking as closely as we might, without
seeming too curious at the never-ending,
still-beginning procession round the Chapel
and the Beds, we entered one of the lodging-
houses, where we were comfortably served
with tea and bread and butter. We might
have had meat too, for the asking; all things
being lawful before the commencement or after
the termination of one's penance, except
intoxicating drinks; the tasting of which within
three miles of the Lake is strictly prohibited.

While enjoying our cup of tea (though the
beverage has, I fancy, a smack of the peculiar
water which forms its diluent,) we may try to
get a definite notion of a pilgrim's routine
from first to last. It is, we find, usually as
follows:—Say that he enters the Island on
Monday evening; he secures a lodging con-
sistent with his means,—the lodging-houses
ranging from a snug slated house to a hovel,
and the number expected to sleep in one bed,
bearing an inverse proportion to the cost,—
takes care to eat a hearty meal, and then
repairs to evening prayers at the Chapel,
where he hears the nightly warning against
in-orthodox practices while on the Island;
amongst which are included the use of
intoxicating drinks, alms-givings, and " exultations,"
that is to say, expressions of religious praise
or joy, as unfit for a time of penance. After
a night, probably, of sound repose, in spite of
all inconveniences, he is roused at four on
Tuesday morning by the bell which summons
him to join the multitude about to flock to
the Prior's morning mass; that over, he is
likely to set himself to make his first station
round the Chapel and the Beds. Three of these
stations must be accomplished during the day,
but the time when is left to his choice: some
perform all the three without interruption.

On Tuesday evening, having eaten nothing
since the preceding evening, he is allowed to
refresh himself with some bread and wine,
and then goes into " Prison." It is necessary
for the true appreciation of the nature of his
fare to understand that the wine is the boggy-
flavoured water of the lake, drank hot. The
pilgrims speak loudly of its wholesome qualities,
as well as of its rich and nutritious
flavour; but on the second point, at least, my
opinion is distinctly opposed to theirs. They