Newry, and a water-turbine representing in all many hundred horse-power. It is clear, then, that paterfamilias will find plenty to do, and it is equally clear that the family living on temperance principles will be more decent, orderly, and comfortable than if the head of it frequented the public-house. I must say that as regards personal appearance, the Bessbrook mill-hand may challenge a comparison with any other mill-hands of a similar class. Some of the work I should fancy is not of the healthiest, at any rate there was a heat in some of the rooms, and a dusty condition of the atmosphere in others, not very desirable, but the hands looked well nevertheless; and on a Sunday it is scarcely necessary to observe that they are got up in a style regardless of expense. Another cause of the good condition of the place may be found in the reward given under certain conditions to the deserving and to the saving—habits induced by the establishment of a bank, depositors in which receive interest at the rate of five per cent. That the men appreciate the advantage of such an institution is clear, when I state that some of them are depositors to the extent of £300 or £400. After all, that which mainly distinguishes Bessbrook from other places of the same kind, are the religious agencies constantly brought to bear. Mr. Richardson himself is, as is well known, a member of the Society of Friends, and he and his lady—who possess, I may be allowed to state, many admirable qualifications for such work—devote much of their time to the promotion amongst all of the Christian life: but all are free to worship as conscience dictates; Quakerism has no monopoly of the place; Roman Catholics and Protestants abound, and the result is, every operative, with his family, makes a point of attending some place of worship, and on a Sunday all the churches and chapels in the district are well filled. You don’t see at Bessbrook what you may often see elsewhere—the intelligent and independent operative lounging about on a Sunday morning, ragged, unshaven, unwashed, a short pipe in his mouth, the penny radical newspaper in his pocket, an untaxed and ill-bred cur at his heels, waiting for the public to open and supply him with his beloved and pernicious beer. Sunday is a busy day at Bessbrook. At an early hour the Roman Catholics may be seen going to mass, and then, as the day wears on, the general public are visible marching to one place of worship or another. Few, very few, stop away. All the boys and the men are at a place of worship—if the mothers, and the infirm and the sick, have to stop at home. I don’t imagine they have got the millennium at Bessbrook, but I feel justified in saying that there people live in charity with each other, who, in other parts of Ireland, would be at work cracking each others’ skulls. How is this? I reply, the secret is to be found in the temperance character of the place. People discuss without the