Christ: the figure of our Saviour being half sunk
into the tomb. The whole was partially illuminated by some two dozen of
shabby and nearly consumed tallow candles; affording a striking contrast to
the increasing darkness of the nave and the side aisles. We retired, more
and more struck with the novelty of every object around us, to our supper
and beds, which were excellent; and a good night's rest made me forget the
miseries of the preceding evening.

The next morning, being Sunday, we betook ourselves in good time to the
service of ST. JAQUES:[27] but on our way thither, we saw a waxen figure of
Christ (usually called an "Ecce Homo") enclosed within a box, of which the
doors were opened. The figure and box are the property of the man who plays
on a violin, close to the box; and who is selling little mass books,
supposed to be rendered more sacred by having been passed across the feet
and hands of the waxen Christ. Such a mongrel occupation, and such a motley
group, must strike you with astonishment--as a Sunday morning's recreation.

[Illustration]

By half past ten the congregation had assembled within the Church; and
every side-chapel (I think about twelve in number) began to be filled by
the penitent flocks: each bringing, or hiring, a rush-bottomed chair--with
which the churches are pretty liberally furnished, and of which the _Tarif_
(or terms of hire) is pasted upon the walls. There were, I am quite sure,
full eighteen women to one man: which may in part be accounted for, by the
almost uniform absence of a third of the male population occupied in the
fisheries. I think there could not have been fewer than two thousand souls
present. But what struck me as the most ludicrously solemn thing I had ever
beheld, was a huge tall figure, dressed like a drum-major, with a large
cocked hat and three white plumes, (the only covered male figure in the
congregation,) a broad white sash upon a complete suit of red, including
red stockings;--representing what in our country is called a _Beadle_. He
was a sturdy, grim-looking fellow; bearing an halberd in his right hand,
which he wielded with a sort of pompous swing, infusing terror into the
young, and commanding the admiration of the old. I must not, however, omit
to inform you, that half the service was scarcely performed when the
preacher mounted a pulpit, with a black cap on, and read a short sermon
from a printed book. I shall long have a distinct recollection of the
figu