sent at
both the ceremonies! How much must such an one have been moved were he
the King himself, the brother of Louis XVI., Charles X.! But the 29th
of May, 1825, all hearts inclined to confidence and joy. Peoples forget
quickly, and there were but few to call up sinister memories. The
sovereign appeared in his first costume, a camisole of white satin,
with a cap rich with diamonds, surmounted by black and white plumes.
Despite his sixty-seven years, Charles X. had a fine presence, a
slender form, a manner almost youthful. State costumes became him
perfectly. He wore them with the elegance of the men of the old court.

Let us listen again to Count d'Haussonville:--

"At the moment Charles X. crossed the nave, clad in a gown of white
satin, opened over a doublet of the same color and the same material, a
general thrill evoked a thousand little cries of ecstasy from my lady
neighbors. With that sensitiveness to grace innate with women, and
which never fails to delight them, how could they help applauding the
royal and supremely elegant fashion in which Charles X., despite his
age, wore this strange and slightly theatrical costume? No one was
better adapted than he, in default of more solid qualities, to give a
becoming air to the outward manifestations of a royalty that was at
once amiable and dignified."

It is half-past seven in the morning. The ceremony begins. Escorted by
his two attendant cardinals, the King reaches the foot of the altar and
kneels. Mgr. de Latil, Archbishop of Rheims, standing and without his
mitre, pronounces this prayer:--

"Almighty God, who rulest all above us, and who hast deigned to raise
to the throne Thy servant Charles, we implore Thee to preserve him from
all adversity, to strengthen him with the gift of the peace of the
Church, and to bring him by Thy grace to the joys of a peace eternal!"

The King is now escorted by the two cardinals to the seat prepared for
him in the centre of the sanctuary, under the great dais, a little in
advance of the first of the steps that divide the sanctuary from the
choir. At his right are the Dauphin, the Duke of Orleans, and the Duke
of Bourbon, their ducal crowns on their heads.

The Veni Creator having been sung, the Archbishop takes the book of the
Gospels, on which he places a piece of the true cross, and holds it
open before the monarch. Charles X., seated, his head covered, his hand
on the Gospels and the true cross, pronounces in a strong voic