monarch wine and water in a silver cup weighing twelve marks; and then the Margrave of Magdeburg presented to him a silver basin of the same weight for washing his hands.  The other three Electors, or arch-chancellors, provided at their own expense the silver baton, weighing twelve marks, suspended to which one of them carried the seals of the empire.  Lastly, the Emperor, and with him the Empress if he was married, the princes, and the Electors, sat down to a banquet at separate tables, and were waited upon by their respective officers.  On another table or stage were placed the Imperial insignia.  The ceremony was concluded outside by public rejoicings:  fountains were set to play; wine, beer, and other beverages were distributed; gigantic bonfires were made, at which whole oxen were roasted; refreshment tables were set out in the open air, at which any one might sit down and partake, and, in a word, every bounty as well as every amusement was provided.  In this way for centuries public fetes were celebrated on these occasions.

[Illustration:  Fig. 389.—­Imperial Procession.—­From an Engraving of the “Solemn Entry of Charles V. and Clement VII. into Bologna,” by L. de Cranach, from a Fresco by Brusasorci, of Verona.]

The doges of Venice, as well as the emperors of Germany, and some other heads of states, differed from other Christian sovereigns in this respect, that, instead of holding their high office by hereditary or divine right, they were installed therein by election.  At Venice, a conclave, consisting of forty electors, appointed by a much more numerous body of men of high position, elected the Doge, or president of the most serene Republic.

From the day when Laurent Tiepolo, immediately after his election in 1268, was spontaneously carried in triumph by the Venetian sailors, it became the custom for a similar ovation to take place in honour of any newly-elected doge.  In order to do this, the workmen of the harbour had the new Doge seated in a splendid palanquin, and carried him on their shoulders in great pomp round the Piazza San Marco.  But another still more characteristic ceremony distinguished this magisterial election.  On Ascension Day, the Doge, entering a magnificent galley, called the Bucentaur, which was elegantly equipped, and resplendent with gold and precious stuffs, crossed the Grand Canal, went outside the town, and proceeded in the midst of a nautical cortege, escorted by bands of music, to the distance of about a league from the town on the Adriatic Gulf.  Then the Patriarch of Venice gave his blessing to the sea, and the Doge, taking the helm, threw a gold ring into the water, saying, “O sea!  I espouse thee in the name, and in token, of our true and perpetual sovereignty.”  Immediately the waters were strewed with flowers, and the shouts of joy, and the clapping of hands of the crowd, were intermingled with the strains of instruments of music of all sorts, whilst the glorious sky of Venice smiled on the poetic scene.