externals, it is mucli upon a level with English country
towns of the same size: the streets are perhaps
upon the whole somewhat narrower; and there is a
greater paucity of public edifices: but like them, it
has its better and its worse quarters; its rows of
modern houses, and its old filthy alleys; its churches
and its chapels; its square, and its market place. But
the two latter deserve more particular mention.
Let every one who visits St. Helier, hie him to the
market place on a Saturday morning. There, one
may judge not only of the produce of the island,
but of its population. I have seldom seen in any
market—save and except Thouloiise, which I look
upon as the ne plus ultra for garden produce—a finer
display of vegetables, fruits, and fiowers, than in the
market of St. Helier. It is a very general custom
for the heads of families to make their own markets;
and therefore a pretty fair sample of the resident
population may be always seen there in fine weather.
Nor is market-going in St. Helier altogether a matter
of business: it is true that at the earlier hours, both
ladies and gentlemen may be seen intent on supplying
the larder; and it startles one at first, to see
gentlemen walking about with an armful of cauli-
fiowers or artichokes,—or with a couple of mullet or
mackerel, dangling from a siring passed through the
gills: but somewhat later in the day, the market
changes its character, and becomes a promenade;
abundance of nodding feathers and smart ribbons are
to be seen; and talk and gossip, succeed to inquiry
and cheapening. I shall speak afterwards, of the
quality and prices of provisions; at present, I shall
r
merely say, that to a stranger, the display of edibles
is very satisfactory. I t must be admitted however,
that the market place is not sufiiciently roomy; and
that in order to gratify oneself with the display of
country produce, and of the faces of the country girls
who bring their butter and eggs to market, one must
submit to be elbowed and jostled more than is altogether
agreeable. By and by I shall speak more
in detail, of the market place and its contents.
The Square, or Royal Square, as it is called,
deserves a page to itself. In Spain, the square would
be an Alameda; but in Jersey, it is the resort only of
the male lounger. Here, at most hours of the day,
may be seen, groups of threes and fours, posted here
and there, discussing Island politics: others, single,
or in pairs, are seen strolling leisurely to and fro,
perfect examples of the “ far’n ien te:” others again,
in twos and threes, more intent on health and exercise
than conversation, may be observed for hours together,
walking from end to end, at the top of their walking
speed; while a few gossips are seen seated on benches
at the door of an eminent pastry-cook’s shop, whiling
away the too tedious hours. But this is not all. The
Court House is in this square; and before and after its
sittings, a promiscuous crowd, composed of clients,
lawyers, judges, and lookers-on, is congregated about
the door, intent upon what is about to be,—or busily
occupied with that which has been; for I have nowhere
so much as in Jersey, seen individual causes, and
private disputes, occupy public attention. In this
same square too, are all the booksellers’ shops, and the
reading rooms, and newspaper offices: the town church