or they have not only
two cathedrals and an archbishop, but also a cardinal archbishop, Dr.
Logue, to wit. I saw this distinguished ecclesiastic at Newry. He wore
the scarlet robe, the extraordinary hat, the immensely thick gold ring
of the cardinalate, in a railway carriage. An ordinary sort of man,
with the round face and mean features of the typical Keltic farmer. He
holds that the people should take their political faith from their
priests, but the Northerners hardly agree, and are not so proud of
their cardinal as they should be, seeing that he has been raised from
the ranks, his father (so they say) having been Lord Leitrim's
coachman, and the coachman who was driving when Lord Leitrim was shot.
The Roman Catholic Cathedral of Armagh has an imposing position on the
summit of a steep hill. The portal is approached by sixty or seventy
steps in flights of five and ten with steep terraces between,
extending over a great space, so that the flights of steps, seen from
the bottom of the hill, seem continuous, and have a fine Gustave Dore
effect of vastness and majesty. On a neighbouring steep stands the
Protestant Cathedral, with its sturdy square tower, memorial of remote
antiquity. The city is piled up between the two cathedrals, but mostly
around the heretic structure, and away from the Papist pile, which
stands among the fields. The Presbyterians have a very beautiful
church, apparently of the Armagh marble of which the city is built,
the perennial whiteness of the stone making the old place appear
eternally young. The market-place, behind the market-hall, and on the
steep slope to the Protestant Cathedral, was very busy indeed. Market
gardeners were there with young plants, useful and ornamental, for
sale. Home-made chairs with rushen seats were offered by their rural
makers. Wooden churns, troughs for cattle, and agricultural implements
were there galore. Crockery was artfully disposed in strategetical
corners, and gooseberry stalls were likewise to the fore. None of
these features are visible in the Western markets. A vendor of
second-hand clothing stood on a cart well loaded with unconsidered
trifles, and this gentleman was especially interesting. A number of
poor women stood around while the salesman, who knew his clientele to
their smallest tricks, displayed his wares and recklessly endeavoured
to ruin himself for the good of the country. Holding up an article, he
would turn it round and round, expatiating on it