ward, but the Parisian populace streamed out in
spite of pouring rain to get a foretaste of the more magnificent
spectacles soon to follow. The solemn procession of the bridal pair
into the capital occurred next day, and the religious ceremony was
celebrated in the great gallery of the Louvre, before an assembly
declared at the time to be the most superb ever seen in France, except
for one ominous fact--the twenty-seven cardinals were absent. They
protested that their absence was an empty form, due only to the
circumstance that Pius VII had not sanctioned the divorce. But
Napoleon was as keenly sensitive to the effectiveness of forms as any
Roman prelate; the offenders were banished from Paris, stripped of
their great revenues, and forbidden to wear the color or insignia of
their office. The popular speech dubbed them black cardinals.

In the first outburst of enthusiastic loyalty, Paris and the nation
could not sufficiently manifest their joy. The illuminations were
lavish, the crowds exuberant, the presents to the Empress superb.
Among the latter was a complete toilet service of silver-gilt,
including not merely small vessels, but large pieces of furniture,
such as an arm-chair and cheval glass. Apparently the French people
felt assured that they had exchanged an old, worn-out dynasty for a
new and vigorous one. They were jubilant at the thought of peace and
safety, which seemed to a generation cradled under royalty to be even
yet impossible in Europe except in connection with a great conquering
family. It was for this they poured forth their sentiment and their
substance, not for the affection they bore the new Empress.

Measured by a certain standard, Maria Louisa was beautiful. Her
abundant light-brown hair softened the high color of her brilliant
complexion, her eyes were blue and mild, her features had the pretty
but uncertain fullness of her eighteen years, her glance was frank and
untroubled; but her lips were full and heavy, her waist was long and
stiff, her form was plump like a child's, and her timidity and
self-consciousness were uncontrollable. The French taste inclines to
lines in the human form which suggest a lithe and sinewy figure; the
French instinct seeks in the expression signs of quick emotion, not to
say passion; the French eye knows but one standard of taste in dress;
that alone is natural to French feeling which is the product of
self-control and consummate art. In all these respects the Austr