remain _in statu quo_.
Perhaps it may return some of these days to its former use. The House of
Commons, a large stone hall of stately dimensions, is now the
cash-office of the bank. There seemed nothing about it architecturally
to call for special notice. I mooted the probability of the Parliament
being restored, but found, rather to my surprise, that the attendant
was by no means disposed to regard such a step with unqualified
approval. It would be a blessing if the country was fit to govern
itself, he said, or words to that effect, but looking at the religious
dissension and political bitterness existing in the country, he feared
that it wouldn't do yet a while; and I suspect he's right. Ireland is a
house divided against itself: fifty years hence it may resemble
Scotland. Meanwhile, there is no doubt whatever that a measure giving
both Ireland and Scotland something in the nature of State legislatures
would find favor with many English M.P.s, who greatly grudge having the
valuable time of the imperial legislature wasted over a gas-bill in
Tipperary or a water-works scheme for Dundee. The bank seemed to me to
be guarded with extraordinary care. I went all over the roof, on which a
guard is mounted at night. At "coigns of vantage" there is a
bullet-proof palisading, with peepholes through which a volley of
musketry might be poured. I should fancy that extra precautions have
probably been taken since the Fenian _emeutes_ of the last ten years.

Dublin swarms with soldiers, constabulary and police. The metropolitan
police is divided into six divisions, each two hundred strong. Its men
are, I believe, beyond a doubt the very finest in the world in point of
physique. Numbers of them are six feet two or three inches high, and
they are broad and athletic in proportion. Indeed, the magnificence of
some of them who are detached for duty at certain "great confluences of
human existence" is such that you see strangers standing and gaping at
the giants in sheer amazement. The metropolitan police is quite distinct
from the constabulary, and under a different chief.

Outside the bank, in College Green, is the celebrated statue of William
III. Its location has been more than once changed, and it is now placed
where the officer on guard at the bank can keep an eye upon it. This
fearful object, which would make a Pradier or Chantrey shudder, is
painted and gilt annually. It has long served as a bone of contention
between Protestant