rch stands charmingly amid fine trees on a
southern branch of the river Lea. We visited also two fine Catholic
churches, one of St. Vincent de Paul, and the other the Church of St.
Peter and St. Paul, a grandly proportioned and imposing edifice.

It was at vespers that we entered it, and found it filled with the
kneeling people. This noble church is rather ignobly hidden away behind
crowded houses and shops, and the contrast was very striking when we
emerged from its dim religious space and silence into the thronged and
rather noisy streets. There is a statue here of Father Mathew; but what
I have seen to-night makes me doubt whether the present generation of
Corkonians would have erected it.

At dinner a gentleman gave us a most interesting account of the
picturesque home which a man of taste, and a lover of natural history,
has made for himself at the remote seaside village of Belmullet, in
Mayo, the seat of the Mayo quarries, in which Mr. Davitt takes so much
interest. The sea brings in there all sorts of wreckage, and the house
is beautifully finished with mahogany and other rare woods, just as I
remember finding in a noble mansion in South Wales, near a dangerous
head-land, some magnificent doors and wainscotings made of that most
beautiful of the Central American woods, nogarote, which I never saw in
the United States, excepting in a superb specimen of it sent home by
myself from Corinto. This colonist of Mayo employs all the people he can
get in the fisheries there, which are very rich; and the ducks and wild
geese are so numerous that he sometimes sends as far as to Wicklow for
men to capture and sell them for him. He was once fortunate enough to
trap a pair of the snow geese of the Arctic region, but Belmullet, in
other respects a primeval paradise, is cursed with the small boy of
civilisation; and one of these pests of society slew the goose with a
stone. The widowed gander consoled himself by contracting family ties
with the common domestic goose of the parish, and all his progeny, in
other particulars indistinguishable from that familiar bird, bear the
black marks distinctive of the Arctic tribe.

Belmullet, this gentleman tells me, boasts a very good little inn, kept
by a Mrs. Deehan, which was honoured by a visit from Lord Carnarvon with
his wife and daughters during the Earl's Viceroyalty. This was in the
course of a private and personal, not official tour, during which, Lord
Carnarvon says, he was ever