business would
revive, that the old place would be re-opened, that its venerable
walls would again re-echo the songs of happy criminals, that the
oakum-picking industry would revive and flourish, and that the
treadwheel (which they identify with the weal of the country) would
continuously revolve. Meanwhile, Armagh extends hospitality to stray
wrong-doers and Monaghan boards them out to the manifest injury of the
local turnkey industry.

The new Roman Catholic Cathedral is said to be the finest in Ireland.
It was over thirty years in building, and although the stone of the
main fabric cost nothing, the structure cost more than a hundred
thousand pounds. The interior is more gorgeous than beautiful, and the
money seems to have been expended with execrable taste. The marble
mosaic of the chancel floor is beautifully done, the work having been
entrusted to Italian workmen, who were engaged on it for several
years. The numerous statues of Carrara marble are well executed, and
other items are also of the best. But the effect of the whole is
inharmonious, and the great lines are obscured by over-ornamentation.
You are reminded of an over-dressed woman. The pulpit, surmounted by a
lofty conical canopy richly gilt, is supported on four lofty pillars
of coffee-coloured marble highly polished. The baldacchino is a
glittering affair, forty or fifty feet high, and big enough for a
mission church. This also rests on marble columns. The sacristy,
chapter-house and other offices are splendidly furnished, and the
furniture of the doors, brass branches spreading all over them,
massive as mediaeval work, were remindful of Birmingham. The oak
drawers of the robing room contain sacerdotal raiment to the tune of
two thousand pounds, and the banners, many in number, and of richest
work, must also represent a small fortune. Beautiful oil paintings
from Italy hang around, and the bishop's throne is a marvel of gold
lace and luxury. A queer-looking utensil, like a low seat, but with
round brass bosses at each corner, proved to be merely a sort of
crinoline whereon the bishop might extend his robes, so as to look
inflated and imposing. So does the noble turkey-cock extend himself
when bent on conquest of his trustful mate, gobbling the while
strange-sounding incantations. To describe in detail would require a
book. The confessionals are snug, with rich external carving. Plenty
of accommodation for penitents here. Amid such surroundings to be a