And when, in 1385, the relics of St. James the major were transferred to a new shrine, the Duc de Berry, brother of Charles VI., gave for it a silver bust of the saint, a gold chain to which was attached a sapphire of great value, surrounded by rubies and pearls, with other jewels which adorned the bust till the time of the Revolution.
Like Madame de Staël, "I love this prodigality of terrestrial gifts to another world--offerings from time to eternity! Sufficient for the morrow are the cares required by human economy. Oh! how much I love what would be useless waste, were life nothing better than a career of toil for despicable gain!"
Though these shrines are stripped of most of their former splendor, the inestimable relics remain still venerated by the people. They no longer go there in the old garb of the pilgrim, with "sandal shoon and scallop-shell," or only occasionally, but their faith is as profound, and their piety as genuine. I was so fortunate as to meet a pilgrim in the orthodox garb as I was going into the church. He entered just before me. He was clad in a loose brown habit which extended to his feet. Over his shoulders was a cape, around which were fastened scallop-shells, as we see in pictures of pilgrims. His feet were sandalled.
"His sandals were with travel tore: Staff, budget, bottle, scrip he wore."
In truth, he had a bundle suspended by a stick on his shoulder. His hair was disordered, his eyes cast down, and he went from shrine to shrine paying his devotions, regardless of every one. From the way in which he made the sign of the cross I took him to be a Spaniard. I felt an indescribable emotion of pity for him whose contrition had induced to assume a penitential garb, and go from church to church living on alms, and I prayed that his soul might find peace--that peace which the world cannot give!
One of the first subterranean chapels I entered was that of the Sainte-Epine, in which is a beautiful silver reliquary, containing one of the thorns from the crown our suffering Saviour wore. It was given by St. Louis to his brother Alphonse, who married Jeanne, daughter of Raymond VII., last Count of Toulouse. On the pavement of the chapel is graven this ancient distich, likening the Sainte-Epine, surrounded by the bodies of thirteen saints, to a thorn among roses: