"So in our west parish (Gairloch), with the communion only every third year, the crowd that attended was probably nearer four than three thousand, of whom perhaps two hundred might be communicants. Of the rest who seemed so devoted to religion (though of course very many did not pretend to such anxiety), the reply, when asked why they were not communicants, would in almost every case be, 'They were not yet worthy.' So they generally remain--refusing to obey their Saviour's dying request--unworthy, till they die,--not yet sinless! I once received as a reason for an excellent man's shrinking from the communion table, that 'his father and mother also shrank from it;' and this given by a man of good education, the secretary to a bank! But till the Presbyterian _clergy_ grow wiser, the same sad disobeying our Redeemer's dying command will remain. "But anent our western communion, every hole and corner within reach of our church was cleared out where straw or heather or ferns could offer a night's quarters to the crowd of communion visitors, for about a week; and such a bad time as every living eatable animal had then preparing for the visitors, who took 'neither scrip nor purse' with them on such occasions, was wonderful; and such baking, boiling, roasting, and stores of cold food, as made our kitchen a mere meat manufactory for the sacrament week; and on the Sabbath there was such a spread of cold food in the house, to which the clergymen, at a lull in their duty, and all the upper crust of the parish, were invited to attend, as was quite a marvel, involving such labour to every servant all day long as quite rendered their attending church at this holy fair absurd to be thought of!