The grand procession was to emerge from the cathedral at two o’clock P.M. Then all these relics were to be carried in pomp in the hands and on the shoulders of the prelates through the streets of the city. “Good places to see the procession” were advertised for sale on the walls of the houses, and selecting one whose windows looked out upon the court of the cathedral and near its great door, I entered and hired half of one of the windows, taking a ticket that was to secure my seat when I returned. Thus sure of the wonderful privilege of seeing the wealth of holy things which had brought these thousands here, I went off, and “assisted” in a demonstration with the Sultan of Turkey. He was on his way home from England, and was expected to reach Aix-la-Chapelle in the evening. But in consequence of delays on the road he did not arrive until five o’clock in the morning. He was then escorted to the palace, a modest mansion which the King of Prussia occupies when he is here, a rare event. When the Sultan had taken a brief rest and breakfast, he was to depart for Coblenz at ten A.M., and the better part of the city turned out to see him as he rode through the streets to the railroad. He is a much better-looking man than his predecessor on the Ottoman throne, whom I saw in Constantinople some years ago. This man is stout, short, grave, with heavy black beard, and very _Turk_ in his appearance. His visit to the west is regarded by his subjects as a part of the great work he is supposed by them to have on his hands,—the government of the world. To this day the most of them believe that France and England simply obeyed his orders when they came to the aid of the Sultan, and that he has now been out west to look after his provinces there. In front of the palace and all along the streets dense masses of people pressed to get a sight; two Romish priests stood by me, and were intensely curious to see the Turk. After a dozen carriages with his suite had passed, the state coach, with two fat horses and one very fat coachman,—coach, horses, and coachman covered with gold lace and trimmings,—came along with the solitary Sultan inside. The people sent up a very faint cheer, but he took no more notice of it than he would if the dogs had barked; looked stolidly down into the coach and rode out of sight.