The choir, which is finished with carved mahogany, has on either side, at the entrance, two statues of St. Peter and St. Paul casting the viper from his hand, by Van Poucke, a modern Flemish sculptor, who died at Rome in 1809. Among its other ornaments are four lofty candelabra of polished copper, once the property of Charles I of England, and sold along with the other decorations of the chapel at Whitehall by order of the Commonwealth. Round the altar are also some tombs of the former prelates of Ghent, amongst which, that by Duquesnoy of the Bishop Triest, is regarded as the finest piece of sculpture in the Netherlands. The mitred dignitaries each repose upon his sculptured sarcophagus, or kneel with clasped and upraised hands: “Seeming to say the prayer when dead, That living they had never said.” Here, again, the pulpit is an extraordinary production in carved wood of huge dimensions, but with white marble ornaments and figures injudiciously intermingled with the rich old oak. The principal figures are statues of Truth awakening Time, and presenting to him the scriptures with the motto, “_surge qui dormis illuminabit te Christus!_” This pulpit, which is far inferior to those at Antwerp and elsewhere, is not by Verbruggen, who is the Canova of wood, but by an artist of Ghent, called Laurence Delvaux, who died about 1780. The other churches present a succession of objects which is almost as tiresome to visit as it is tedious to enumerate. That of St. Michael, in extent and magnificence, is second only to the cathedral. Amongst a host of ordinary paintings, and some by modern artists, especially one of great merit, by Paelinck, a native of Ghent, it possesses a chef d’œuvre of Vandyk, a “Crucifixion,” in which he has introduced the same magnificent horse as in his picture of Charles V, in the Sal di Baroccio, at Florence. Sir Joshua Reynolds calls it “one of his noblest works.” It had been injured by repeated cleanings, but M. Voisin, the historian of Ghent, observes with much naïveté, “qu’il vient d’être restauré par un artiste habile.” Who he may be who has ventured to restore a chef-d’œuvre of Vandyck, M. Voisin discreetly forbears to name. An association, called the Brotherhood of St. Ivoy, formerly met in this church, which was composed of the most distinguished members of the bar, who gave advice to the poor, and bore the expense of any legal process which it might be necessary to institute for them out of a common fund. This law hospital has not, however, survived the revolution of 1830. The music and choir of St. Michael’s are remarkably fine, the organ is of extraordinary richness and volume, and nothing could possibly be more sublime than its melodious tones resounding amidst the “dim religious light” of the old gothic church, when “Through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.”