e purpose of
mentioning to their majesties the names of those who pass before them.
At the back of the royal and imperial party are ranged the palace
guard in their quaint, old-fashioned, and exceedingly picturesque
uniforms. The first to pass before the throne is invariably the
chancellor of the empire, and while the emperor and empress merely
respond with an inclination of the head to the salutations of those of
minor rank, they invariably approach to the edge of the dais in
order to give their hands to be kissed by the octogenarian Prince
of Hohenlohe, who has held the office of chancellor ever since the
retirement of General Count Caprivi. The band plays throughout the
entire ceremony, which is a most magnificent affair.

The so-called "spiel-cour" still keeps its name, implying card
playing, although, as a matter of fact, cards are never played at
court now. In former times they constituted a very important feature
of court entertainment, and the "spiel-cour," or "le jeu de leurs
majestes," was the function to which those whom the anointed of the
Lord desired to honor were most frequently bidden. In earlier days,
as soon as the guests had made their bows to the sovereign and to the
princes and princesses of the blood, card-tables were set out, and
gambling commenced, those to whom their majesties wished to accord
special distinction and honor receiving royal commands, through the
chamberlains-in-waiting to take their places at the card-tables of the
king, or of the queen, as the case might be.

It was these royal games of cards at the Court of Versailles which
contributed in no small measure to the downfall of the old French
monarchy, and to the outbreak of the great revolution in Paris a
hundred years ago. The ill-fated Queen Marie-Antoinette of France
became an inveterate gambler. It was her craze for high play that
led her to admit not only to her court, but also to her card-table,
parvenus of doubtful reputation and of questionable antecedents, such
as the infamous Cagliostro, _soi-disant_ Count of St. Germain, and
others of his class, whose only merit in her eyes was that they were
rich and willing to lose their money without counting it. Indeed,
the celebrated diamond necklace scandal, which compromised to such a
terrible degree the reputation of this French queen, and precipitated
the overthrow of the throne, would have been impossible had it not
been for her gambling propensities.

[Illustration: IN THE