I even heard a woman crying her wares as on any other day. I do
not think that a little more Sabbath would hurt this fair town in the
very least. I rested this day.
In the evening I had the pleasure of hearing "the bells of Shandon"
ringing the people in to worship in the old Shandon Church. I heard them
while walking by "the pleasant waters of the river Lee." I followed
their chime and enjoyed it, sweetly solemn and grand it was, and thought
of Father Prout who has made them so famous, and finally found myself at
Shandon church.
When the chimes ceased I went up the high steps into the old church. It
is very old. It is high, long and narrow. The tower, in which are the
famous bells, seems of better workmanship than the church. It is built
in stories. The bells were chiming out, "Oh, that will be joyful!" as I
entered. It is a nice, homely, comfortable church; but so plain that the
tide of fashion has rolled past it into another quarter of the town. The
pulpit and reading-desk were supplied by a gray-haired clergyman, who
had power to read the service, so that it had a newness as if it had
never been heard before and to preach to the heart.
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