Lord Castlereagh and Bernadotte.

About forty years ago the following adventure befell the Marquess of Londonderry, later Lord Castlereagh. One day he went to visit a gentleman who enjoyed the friendship of one of his own friends, and who resided in one of those old castles of northern Ireland which novelists choose as the stage for apparitions from the other world. The appearance of the marquess's apartment was in perfect harmony with the building. Indeed, the richly carved wooden beams, blackened by time, the enormous arch of the chimney, resembling the entrance to a tomb, the heavy, dust-laden tapestry that masked the narrow windows and surrounded the bed, all of it was capable of lending a melancholy cast to one's thoughts. Lord Londonderry examined his bedchamber and made the acquaintance of the former lords of the castle who, portrayed standing in the pictures on the wall, seemed to await his greeting. After dismissing his valet, he went to bed. He had scarcely finished blowing out the candle when he perceived a ray of light illuminating the upper curtain of his bed. Convinced that there was no fire in the grate, that the curtains were closed, and that a few minutes before the room had been plunged in the most complete darkness, he supposed that an intruder had penetrated there. Turning quickly toward the side from which the light was coming, he saw, to his great astonishment, the figure of a beautiful child, completely haloed in light. Convinced of the integrity of his faculties, but suspecting some hoax by one of the castle's numerous guests, Lord Londonderry advanced toward the apparition, which withdrew before him. As he approached, it retreated, until at last, having reached beneath the dark arch of the immense chimney, it plunged into the floor and disappeared.

Lord Londonderry did not sleep that night.

He resolved to make no allusion to what had happened to him, until he had attentively examined the countenance of every person in the house. During breakfast he sought in vain to surprise some disguised smiles, glances of complicity, and winks, which generally betray the authors of such domestic conspiracies.

The conversation followed its ordinary course; it was animated and revealed nothing of a hoax. At last the marquess could not resist the desire to recount what he had seen. The lord of the castle observed that Lord Londonderry's account must seem very strange to those who had not visited the castle for a long time and were unacquainted with the legends of the family. Then, turning to Lord Londonderry, he said: “You have seen the shining child; rejoice, for it is the presage of a great fortune. But I would have preferred that it were not that apparition.” On another occasion Lord Castlereagh saw the shining child in the House of Commons. On the day of his suicide he had a similar apparition. n It is known that this Lord, one of the principal members of the Harrowby Ministry and the most obstinate persecutor of Napoleon during his reverse of fortune, severed his own carotid artery on the 22nd of August 1823, dying instantly.

It is said that Bernadotte's surprising fortune had been predicted to him by a famous necromancer, who had also announced that of Napoleon I and enjoyed the confidence of the Empress Josephine.

Bernadotte was convinced that a kind of tutelary divinity was attached to him to protect him. Perhaps the marvelous traditions that surrounded his cradle were not foreign to this thought, which never abandoned him. Indeed, in his family there was related an ancient chronicle according to which a fairy, the wife of one of his ancestors, had predicted that a king would render his posterity illustrious.

Here is a fact that demonstrates how much the marvelous had preserved its empire over the spirit of the King of Sweden. He wished to settle by the sword the difficulties that Norway raised against him, and to send his son Oscar at the head of an army to annihilate the rebels. The Council of State strongly opposed this project. One day, when Bernadotte had just engaged in an animated discussion on the subject, he mounted his horse and rode away from the capital at full speed. After a long course he reached the edge of a dark forest. Suddenly there appeared before his eyes an old woman, dressed in an extravagant manner and with her hair in disarray: — “What do you want?” — the king asked brusquely. The sorceress answered without losing her composure: — “If Oscar fights in that war you are plotting, he will not deal the first blows, but will receive them.” Struck by this apparition and by these words, Bernadotte returned to the palace. The next day, still bearing on his face the signs of a long and agitated vigil, he presented himself to the Council: “I have changed my opinion; we shall negotiate peace, provided it be on honorable terms.”

In his Vie de M. de Rancé, founder of La Trappe, Chateaubriand relates that one day this celebrated man, walking in the avenue of the castle of Veretz, thought he saw a great fire consuming the outbuildings intended for the domestic fowl. He ran quickly toward it: the fire diminished as he approached. At a certain distance the blaze transformed into a lake of fire, in the midst of which there rose, to half her body, a woman devoured by the flames.

Seized with dread, he resumed at a run the way home. On arriving, his strength failed him, and he threw himself half-dead onto the bed. It was only after a long time that he recounted the vision, the mere remembrance of which made him grow pale.

Do these mysteries belong to madness? Mr. Brière de Boismont seems to attribute them to a higher order of things, and I agree with his opinion. May this not displease my friend Dr. Lélut: I prefer to believe in the familiar genius of Socrates and in the voices of Joan of Arc rather than to believe in the dementia of the philosopher and of the virgin of Domrémy.

There are phenomena that surpass the intelligence and that disconcert received ideas, but before whose evidence human logic must bow humbly. Nothing is so brutal, and above all so irrefutable, as a fact. Such is our opinion and, above all, that of Mr. Guizot:

“What is the great question, the supreme question that today preoccupies minds? It is the question raised between those who recognize and those who do not recognize a supernatural order, true and sovereign, though impenetrable to human reason; it is the question raised, to call things by their name, between supernaturalism and rationalism. On one side the unbelievers, the pantheists, the skeptics of every sort, the pure rationalists; on the other, the Christians. “With a view to our present and future salvation, it is necessary that faith, respect, and submission to the supernatural order penetrate the world and the human soul, the great minds as well as the simple minds, the most elevated regions as well as the most humble. The real, truly efficacious and regenerative influence of religious beliefs has this condition. Apart from it they are superficial and very near to becoming vain.” (Guizot).

No, death shall never separate forever, even in this world, the elect whom God has received into His bosom and the exiles who have remained in this vale of tears, in hac lacrymarum valle, to employ the melancholy words of the Salve Regina. There are mysterious and blessed hours in which the well-beloved dead lean over those who mourn them, murmuring in their ears words of consolation and of hope. Mr. Guizot, that severe and methodical spirit, is right to profess: “Apart from it religious beliefs are superficial and very near to becoming vain.” Sam.

(Extracted from the Patrie, of June 5, 1859.)

[1] [see Lord Castlereagh.]

[2] [see Bernadotte.]

[3] Forbes Winslow — Anatomy of suicide, 1 vol. in-8º, p.

London, 1840.