e most frigid
soul, if blessed with even a morsel of artistic taste, would be
inclined to admire it. There is a large window behind the altar, and
it is a very handsome affair; but it is rather too bright--flashes
and crystalises a little too strongly; and needs a deeper tone
somewhere to make it properly effective. Not very far from the
pulpit, which is massive, elegant, and calculated to hold the
stoutest priest in the country, there are two large statues,
standing on tall stone columns--opposite each other--at the sides of
the nave. One of them represents St. Joseph, and the other, we
believe, St. Ignatius. Not very far from this part of the building
there used to be a statue of St. Patrick; but it was removed to one
side, awhile since, either to make room for some other ornament, or
to edify those belonging "ould Ireland" who may happen to sit near
its present position. Towards the higher end, and on each side of
the church, there is an opening, projecting back several yards. A
gallery occupies each of these spaces, and beneath there are seats.
The roof of the nave, which is finely decorated, depends upon
parallel stone columns; but they are rather heavy--are massive and
numerous enough to support another church, if ever one should be
erected above the present edifice. The seats are of plain stained
wood, and the doors are gradually disappearing. Open seats are
desiderated and whenever the opportunity occurs, the doors are
attacked. Some of the pews have doors to them, and so long as the
present occupiers hold their sittings in them they will not, unless
it is requested, be disturbed; but as soon as they leave, the doors
will be quietly taken off and either sold, or judiciously split up,
or quietly buried.

Adjoining the chancel there are four of those mystic places called
confessionals. The other evening we were in every one of them,
viewed them round from head to foot, asked a priest who was with us
the meaning of everything visible, and left without noticing in any
of them anything to particularly fret at. "Confession is good for
the soul," we are told; and by all means let those who honestly
believe in it "go the entire figure" without molestation or insult.
Every morning, on week days, there is mass in the church at seven,
half-past seven, and eight o'clock; every Friday evening there is
benediction; and on Sundays a great business is done--at eight,
nine, ten, and eleven, in the forenoon, at three in the aft