A man bearing a cross on a pole.
Banner.
Little girls dressed in white, with flowers in their hands.
Little boys.
Banner.
Image of the Virgin borne by four men.
A lamb, very white and clean, led by a string, and
decorated with red ribbons, with boys on each
side, carrying various emblems.
Young ladies in white.
Another image of the Virgin.
About twenty priests, in white muslin robes, and in
satin robes trimmed with gold.
Two boys with censers.
Silken canopy, borne by four men, under which walked
two ecclesiastics, in full costume one
bearing the Host.

The canopy was surrounded by men carrying lanterns with silver framework, and of peculiar construction. The censers, as they were swung backward and forward by the bearers, emitted a dense smoke, which rose far above the procession, and marked its progress.

As the cortége approached the spot where the boys stood, the band ceased playing, and the priests began to chant the mass to the accompaniment of a single base horn. The procession moved very slowly, and the rich voices of the priests, mingling with the heavy notes of the horn, produced an effect solemn and impressive even on the minds of those whose religious education did not prepare them to appreciate such a display.

As the host approached, hundreds of the crowd in the street knelt reverently upon the pavement, and bowed their heads before the sacred emblems. Women and children strewed the path of the procession with flowers, green branches, or, in the absence of these, with handfuls of colored paper cut into minute pieces. Indeed, the street, in places, was literally covered with these votive offerings of the people, who had no other means of testifying their reverence for the ceremonial.

The line filed into the Rue Longue Neuve, which was extensively decorated with flags, streamers, and other national and religious emblems. In many windows burned a line of candles, in some cases before a crucifix. In this street the procession halted, and several of the priests moved up an arch forming the entrance to one of the better residences. In this recess an altar had been erected, and was covered with all the emblems of the Catholic faith. The priests knelt before it, and chanted a portion of the service, and then returned to the procession, which continued its march up the street; the flowers and bits of colored paper filling the air before it, and the people still reverently bowing down to the host. The solemn and impressive chanting of the priests kindled the pious enthusiasm of the multitude, and as the line passed the cafés and estaminets, or smoking houses, the pipe, the drink, and the gay jest were abandoned, to pay homage to the faith of the nation.

The faces of the little children and the white-robed maidens in the procession presented an aspect of religious enthusiasm, solemn but not sad, which young people seldom wear. Everybody seemed to be carried away by the excitement of the scene; all hats were removed, and the utmost respect was paid to the representatives and to the emblems of the church in the line.

As Paul and his friend followed the spectacle up the street, they saw a Béguine nun kneeling at the altar in the arch, wringing her hands in an ecstasy of devotion, while several women were regarding her with an admiring reverence, which seemed to indicate that they envied her the enjoyment of the heavenly raptures which thrilled her.

"It is very solemn—isn't it?" said Paul, when they had passed out of hearing of the procession.

"It is really moving, even while you have no sympathy with the church which makes these displays."

"I think I was never more moved in my life than I was by the chanting of those priests. But what is the occasion of all this?"