Chapter 9 No.9

Vetus opinio est, jam usque ab heroicis ducta temporibus,

Eaque et populi Romani et omnium gentium firmata

Consensu, versari quandam inter homines divinationem

Quam Gr?ci MANTIKE appellant,

Id est, pr?sensionem, et scientiam rerum futurarum.

Cicero, de Divinatione.

The thirty-first day of October, anno salutis sixteen hundred and ----, being the Eve of All-Hallows, happened also to be the anniversary of the birth-day of our heroine, which was duly to be celebrated upon this memorable day with more than its accustomed splendour, as we have already premised in the foregoing chapter.

Adelaide had now entered her seventeenth year; so rapidly doth old father Time speed along, borne upon his ever fugitive wings, verifying the truly appropriate motto that we have somewhere seen engraved upon the dial of a clock, "DUM SPECTAS, FUGIO!"-"while you look on, I fly!"

Mrs. Judith Braingwain, Lady Adelaide's nurse and foster-mother, and who from the very beginning seemed resolved not to hold a subordinate place in the back ground of our story, but firmly determined to carry matters on in somewhat a consequential way, had now become her young Lady's femme de chambre, and was ever and had been on the alert in instilling into her youthful and susceptible mind the superstitions of her native isle; and these stories, daily and hourly as they were repeated, did not fail to make an impression upon a youthful and romantic mind. This morning, at an early hour, she attended upon her young lady and foster-child, a title she was pre-eminently proud of using upon all occasions. The Irish have been ever proverbial for loving their foster-children even beyond their own, and the ancient crone who made her appearance was a living proof of the truth of the assertion. Mrs. Braingwain having respectfully and affectionately congratulated her noble foster-child upon the anniversary of her birth, entered into a long and elaborate series of reminiscences of all the sad and mournful events which had happened to herself and others upon the Eve of All-Hallows. But as we are inclined to imagine that the old lady's melancholy ditties are not very likely to awaken an interest and sympathy in the reader's breast, we have therefore magnanimously determined to suppress them altogether.

The loquacious old dame continued her long-winded reminiscences without the slightest compunction of mercy or conscience, until interrupted by the tolling forth of the breakfast bell, which luckily saved the Lady Adelaide from further prolixity, by at once silencing the garulous old nurse, whom she regarded from her early years, and wished not to offend. Adelaide rejoiced at the timely interruption that cut short the prosings of the old crone, and promptly descended to the breakfast-room.

A number of young people of both sexes were invited to dinner, to celebrate Adelaide's birth-day; and the party was to be enlarged in the evening by an invitation to crack nuts at the castle, which was sure to include the nucleus of a good supper. All the principal persons of distinction for several miles around the castle were invited, and all with alacrity obeyed the festive summons.

Lady Adelaide, although not always much interested upon such festivals, yet upon this occasion manifested some degree of anxiety, which was caused no doubt by that noble generosity of character which she so eminently possessed, and ever invariably felt greater pleasure in the gratification of her friends, than in being personally gratified.

The dinner went off with much eclat; pleasantry, wit, and good-humour, all aiding with their potent charms. When the cloth was removed from the ducal table, and the desert and wines were duly placed in order, a stately plateau of confectionary and pastry arrived at the side-table, which was destined for the juvenile guests, who were there seated. That day was indeed a right busy one to all the cooks, scullions, and kitcheners of the household. The thrifty pastry-cooks of these happy days were most notable for, and assumed very considerable pride, in raising those superstructures called "pastry fortifications." The display chosen for this festival was the model of Tyrconnel Castle, flanked by bastion, battlement, and tower; armorial flags, heraldically emblazoned in sugar, decorated the summit of each tower and parapet; and the fosse was floated from its parent Eske, which, instead of a mountain-stream, supplied the said fosse with a broad and deep portion of excellent Spanish flummery, upon which was anchored a tiny Armada; the heights of the barbican and the embrasures of the terrace were defended with a long train of "eatable artillery," and manned by a large disposable garrison of sugar-almonds; the watch-towers were alternately constructed of jelly and blanc manger.

The Duke now gave the word of "assault!" which command was incontinently obeyed, the juvenile party in every direction making one grand attack, by a general coup de fourchette, de couteau, de cullier. The assault was crowned with entire success; the fosse of Spanish flummery quickly disappeared; the whole train of "eatable artillery" promptly were destroyed; the jelly and blanc manger towers were scaled, battered down, and swallowed in a thrice; the Armada shattered and dispersed; the entire garrison without any remorse or mercy were devoured, and the "pastry fortifications" completely razed, without leaving a wreck behind! This attack upon the confectionary bijou much gratified the juvenile assailants, and highly pleased the noble hosts, and the grave company seated at their festive board were most marvellously entertained withal.

In some short time after, selon des règles, the sightless bard, old Cormac, was led in, bearing his harp beneath his arm. He courteously expostulated with those who would fain save him the trouble, by observing, "that he had long borne that instrument his companion in joy or in sorrow, his last and almost only solace upon earth; and that when he was unable to bear his harp, his wish was then to be borne to the grave!" Upon the entrance of the aged minstrel into the saloon, the Duke ordered that a goblet of mead, foaming and sparkling to the brim, should be given to old Cormac; which was accordingly done; and then the toast of that high festival was to be drank, which he repeated: "The health of the noble young Lady Adelaide," said the sightless bard; and to which he was facetiously pleased to annex a friendly addition of his own, which was, "and long may the Lady Adelaide reign!" This is a favourite expression of fervent zeal and affection used by the warm-hearted Irish to their superiors. Now in crowds advanced the young folks, who in various circles thronged around old Cormac, making various inquiries, and asking numerous questions: "Was the old man always blind?"

"Nae, nae, that I was not. I once could see, and well; and truly the light was sweet, and a pleasant thing it was to behold the light of the sun! But now all is dim and dark. Yet I trust that I shall hereafter be permitted to behold the light of heaven! That fervent hope and my harp are my consolations during my pilgrimage of darkness!"

It was next inquired of him how long he had been blind? He replied, "I was of the same age that our dear and ever honoured young Lady (heaven bless her here and hereafter!) has entered into this holy day.-I was in my seventeenth year."

The Duke interdicted all further interruptions: "Cormac, my honest fellow, I fear that my young friends are somewhat disposed to trespass too much upon your time and patience; so quaff your flagon and strike your harp. But remember, Cormac, nothing dismal upon this happy day; no dirge-not even an overture, will be endured!"

Cormac made due obeisance; and seizing his harp, struck its accompanying notes, while he sung the following:-

SONG.

Who would not toast that lovely maid,

And drink the health of Adelaide,

And fill a bumper round?

Who, in wandering o'er the glade,

Could meet a nymph like Adelaide?

Then fill a bumper round!

The beauties of a court would fade

When they're compared with Adelaide-

Let all fill bumpers round!

Of sweetest flowers a crown we'll braid,

To deck the brow of Adelaide,

While bumpers flow around!

Alas! old Cormac he is blind,

Or soon the flow'rets he could find

Should braid the brow and gem the breast

Of Adelaide the loveliest,

While bumpers foam'd around!

Much applause rang forth a chorus to the minstrel's impromptu Anacreontic, and flowing bumpers were quaffed to "the health of Lady Adelaide!" A glass of Burgundy was handed to old Cormac, which he respectfully declined, but with the request that a glass of pure Innishowen (whiskey) might be substituted in place of it; and with this sturdy appendage to his request, "that it might be unadulterated!" These demands being all strictly complied with, he most devoutly gave his young lady's health, tossed down at the instant the pure Innishowen, and in due approval cordially smacked his lips as the beverage disappeared.

The ladies soon retired, Adelaide deeply blushing at all the honours and attentions bestowed this day; and felt most grateful to the sightless old bard, who had in so feeling a manner manifested such attachment to his young mistress.

The ceremonies of the tea-table being duly concluded, the graver portion of the company sat down to their cards: various games were played, loo, cribbage, gresco, ombre, and lansquenet. The Duke sat down to primero, "which," observed his Grace, "is my favourite game, as it had been with Lord Strafford, when he held the high station in which I am at present placed."

The younger part of the company, in the mean time, not to discompose the gravity of the card-playing dowagers, retired apart to the great saloon, where were stationed all the preliminary accessoirés proper and duly prepared for the mysteries of the Eve of All-Hallows, in order to commence the various spells, tricks, sports, and charms, which national superstition and credulity have consecrated, and hoary tradition handed down from age to age as the records of popular faith.

"Allons nous," said Lady Lucy, playfully, "allons mes enfants!"

"Oh, for mercy's sake, dear Lucy," rejoined Lady Letitia, "pray let us have no more of this outlandish gibberish; but I pray you let the young folks at once begin their play, without preface or prologue."

"Thy design and intention, sweet sister of mine, displeaseth me not; for be it known, that I also am fully possessed with a most marvellous disposition, a wondrous curiosity for the commencement of the various charms, or mysteries, or incantations of this memorable night, call them by any name you think befitting; and here am I ready and willing to be the lady mistress of the ceremonies to be done and performed-ay, without the fee or reward of even plumb-cake or a single poesy! And now, my merry maids all, for the full and complete execution of the important duties attending my most consequential appointment, we shall soon commence our ceremonies of office, and all the various charms of this night of incantation." Then, with much sprightliness, she added, "But where, oh, where is my wand? my wand-my kingdom for a wand! I can do nothing with effect, unless armed with the insignia of my office."

A servant then came in, and presented a peeled wand or rod, which was framed from a witch-hazel that had grown on the Tyraugh mountains, and had been cut and stript of its bark at the express desire of old Cormac, and was now assumed and wielded with all due and becoming authority.

"Yes, yes, this is comme il faut! this will do. Now I am the most mysterious mistress of these enchanted revels, and this the wand of my stately vocation! Young ladies fair, young lords so gay, hear ye, hear ye all! In full plenitude, potency, and execution of this my office, hear and obey the important injunctions which I have to premise to each and to all of you-[this was expressed with much gaietè du c?ur.] Be it then known to you all by these presents, (as an old dotard once upon a time began his will);-but I am not dead, yet my will is this: hear, hear ye all good people and true! and thus I do proclaim, amid all our play and revels to-night, but without sound of trumpet or kettle-drum, that there still remains a charm yet to be consummated, and of such confessed potency too, that this night should not be passed over without giving it a fair trial, and at once putting its efficacy to the test! Having thus premised, it would be but foul play that my young friends should burst in ignorance as to the mode and nature of the charm. Eh! bien donc, mes chers enfants! you then must know, the fair young lady who wishes to recognise her future spouse for life, is to proceed at just this hour to a sequestered lime-kiln, bearing a charmed ball of untwisted cotton thread, and strongly holding the cord, is to fling the ball adown the cavern of the kiln; and upon its having reached the bottom, stoutly to exclaim, 'Who holds the ball?' When this is duly performed, the person who accomplishes it is to retire before midnight to bed; a banquet must be spread, and a mirror in which her fortune shall be read! Now, my gay and merry lasses all, where is to be found that courageous one who dare do this?"

The young ladies all, as if by tacit consent, drew back, dissenting from the proposal. But not so Lady Adelaide, who advanced: "That daring one am I, and I accept your challenge;" seizing at the same time upon the charmed ball of untwisted cotton which Lady Lucy then held in her hand, and of which Lady Adelaide now became the possessor. "I hold now the charm; it shall not perish until at least its efficacy be tried. But remember I go alone!"

"Oh, my dearest, my best beloved Adelaide do not go!-I beseech you that you do not go at this hour of night-at this season of the year! storm and rain may overtake you, and cause you to lament the rashness of your undertaking! In what I have said I wished to raise youthful curiosity, but at the same time I likewise meant to intimidate, but not to encourage the attempt!-Why will you go?"

"Because," rejoined Lady Adelaide, "from the very first I resolved that I would undertake the execution of the charm; and no remonstrance, not even force, shall compel me to relinquish my purpose; call it fate, call it destiny; describe it as rashness; call it e'en what pleaseth thee; it must-it shall be performed!"

"But," observed Lady Lucy, "should your absence be noticed what is then to be done to account for it? What will the Duke say?-what will the Duchess? And you will bring down the united raillery of all the loo, tredrille, primero, and cribbage tables, upon your truant head for this nocturnal adventure of romance!"

"Oh, tell the Duke and Duchess that as they know the gods have made me poetical, that the fit of inspiration was upon me; and now or never! If I were not to obey the impulse my precious verse would perish for ever!"

Adelaide then most sweetly smiling, said: "It boots not what remark may come from the sober dowagers and solemn wig-pated personages at the loo and ombre tables; they will be too much absorbed in their winnings and tricks to think of me. And now I go!"

"Oh stay, I prithee, stay a moment!-just until I tell thee," said Lady Lucy. "For before you go you must be told of what positively and fatally happened in our own family to a kinswoman of mine own, a young lady, upon the Eve of All-Hallows, who--"

"Not for the wide world," said Lady Adelaide, "would I hear another word. If the story, my dear aunt, be amusing or horrific, I pray thee tell it to my young friends, and then I shall have it told me when I return. Now wave thy mystic wand, and like a spirit I vanish.-Prèsto I'm gone!"

Adelaide departed. This young lady was indeed the child of romance, with feelings the most tender and acute; and one who deeply had imbibed the superstitions of the age in which she lived; all of which had chiefly been instilled, even from the very cradle, by the old talkative crone, her quondam nurse; and although possessing a strong understanding, yet still, as the ever constant dropping of water will impress and penetrate the hardest stone, in like manner the tales of superstition unceasingly told, and the numerous attestations of popular faith, did not fail fully to operate on her credulity.

Adelaide alone sallied forth from the ducal towers of Tyrconnel Castle, with deep determination to fulfil the spell of the charmed ball. The moon with pearly radiance shone forth on her fearless enterprise; enthusiastic in this adventure as in every thing which she thought, said, or did, she now boldly advanced to commence the solemn charm; and with firm and unshaken step she proceeded to the accomplishment of her nocturnal visit; while intently she looked around, fully to be assured that no human eye gazed upon the orgies which she was about to perform.

Adelaide then with quickened step approached a lime-kiln. This fabric had been for a lapse of time deserted and disused; its apex was crested with saxifrage, snap-dragon, and foxglove, which told its desolation; and the ivy too, in curling festoons suspended, overhung the passenger, and undulated in the breeze. The autumnal gale in mournful gusts swept, sighing in its course, over hill, and vale, and stream; while the owl hooted her solitary scream as Adelaide reached this deserted pile, now the lonely asylum of the nocturnal bat and wary field-mouse. The kiln had been constructed at the angle of a green knoll, which served as an ascent to it; and by this mount, or hill, Adelaide with facility ascended to the empty crater of the lime-kiln; when duly turning her face to the south she produced an untwisted ball of cotton thread, and firmly holding the end of the cord, or thread, of the ball, she flung the ball, as if a plummet, down the concavity of the kiln; when sounding its depth she ascertained that it had duly reached the bottom, then she undauntedly inquired in a loud and firm tone of voice-"Who holds the ball?" The cotton cord on the instant dropped promptly from her hand, whether by force or fear she knew not; while she thought she heard a voice unknown ascending in hollow tones from the echoing depth beneath, emphatically reply-"I grasp the ball!"

This might have been merely the effect of fear and mental deception, yet still she thought she had heard the awful response. No shape, no form, no figure, met her eye; but the words struck her ear and pierced her heart. Adelaide stood motionless, silent, and pale, as a statue; she had not the power to scream, articulation was totally suspended; and the powers of locomotion too were completely paralized, her imagination became spell-bound, her recollection was fled! At length nature completely overpowered, she fainted; and it was not for some time that she recovered the powers of animation, when all the solemn scene that had so lately occurred appeared to her but as a frightful dream that had passed in review before her deceived imagination while she slumbered in that dreadful swoon.

For some considerable pause of time Adelaide sat motionless upon the sward of the little knoll that adjoined that ominous fabric, where so lately that awful charm, consecrated by the credulity of ages, had been performed.

After much mental exertion Adelaide found upon trial that she had sufficient bodily strength to arise; and now having stood up, she proceeded upon her return to the castle. The moon had retired behind a cloud, when, with a deep sigh, she exclaimed, "Oh, how much I wish that the deed had remained undone, and then my mind would have been at rest! But now I am sadly disquieted, and my heart is sick within me. Oh, it was not well done!"

After a pause she continued-"But what will they all this while think of me at the castle? How shall my absence be accounted for? Why-why do I shudder thus in self-condemnation? This should not have been!"

Thus, in self-crimination, Adelaide vented her contrition, while with trembling fear and step she slowly wended back her wearied way to Tyrconnel Castle.

Still advancing, terror seemed every where to accompany her.

"Horror ubique--simul ipsa silentia terrent!"

The distant murmurs of the Eske uniting with the ocean affrighted her, as did her footsteps,-she thought them not her own; while ever and anon she would stop to listen; but no sounds were heard but those of the adjoining brook brawling[20] over its rocky channel, or the autumnal gale rustling the fallen foliage as it swept its plaintive blast along. At times when partially the wind reposed, and all, for the interval, was in silence lulled, still her mind was not at rest; occasionally she would stop, and seemed to meditate to herself; then would she rehearse the ominous incantation at the kiln, she would raise up her right arm, bend the hand, with thumb and fore-finger conjoined together; next suddenly dip the arm and hand, as when she plumbed the charmed ball adown the mystic concavity of the kiln. When having violently acted this, she would utter a piercing scream, and then awaken from her reverie.

As Adelaide was proceeding onward in her return to the castle, the sky suddenly became deeply darkened, and a thunder-storm arose; the thunder loudly re-echoed through the vaulted heavens, and the vivid lightning-flash preceded each awful peal; then descended torrents of rain, which fell with the plenitude and the force of a water-spout.

"Ah, if I had here a friend, a companion in this my hour of trial, I then would slightly value the tempest that now surrounds me! But the deed was all my own doing, and plaints now are of no avail. So unto the castle with whatever remnant of strength or courage may remain.-This is my only resource!"

All terrified, pale, and her garments deeply drenched with rain, at length Adelaide regained the castle; where, when she had put on fresh attire, forgetful of all the fears and perils which she had encountered, (such and so great are the contradictions of human nature,) that she fully, nevertheless, resolved to abide the full completion of the mysterious charm.

The awful thunder-storm served as a well-timed explanation for the deadly paleness of her countenance as the Lady Adelaide rejoined the social circle. The juvenile party were employed in the various pastimes of the night, in burning the boding nuts, while

"Some lovingly in flames consume,

Till wasting into embers grey."

Meantime others parted company, north and south, with the rapidity, if not with the force, of a modern Congreve rocket. In others the spark soon expired, while the gentle relict that was left behind, "like Patience on a monument," kept stationary on her ordeal bar of trial, tranquil and serene, until, in expiring embers she blazed, and was no more! The melting of lead, and various other dainty devices followed. All which were now succeeded by the grand finale of a ball, in which minuets, cotillions, and contre-danses followed in course, and were succeeded by a splendid supper.

The supper, which was superb and princely throughout, commenced and ended with delight to all the guests. And while sipping the noble beverage of the grape, pressed and brought from every generous clime, the following erudite discussion upon presages, prophecies, and predictions, occupied the grave and learned portion of the company:-

"Some presages," observed the Duke, "may certainly appear to have been casual, and subsequently adapted to the occasion by the ingenuity of others; but still there are others that appear supported by such a connected mass of evidence, that they can be neither questioned nor denied. Mariana, the famed historian of Spain, (A. D. 1453,) makes mention, in speaking of the tragical end of Don Alvaro, Earl of Luna, 'that it had been foretold to Alvaro that his death would be at Cadahalso, by which he supposed to be meant, a town he had of that name, and therefore he never went thither; but Cadahalso, in Spanish, means a scaffold,' (this prophecy thus 'paltered in a double sense,') for upon the scaffold Alvaro suffered, and there concluded a life eminent in glory."

"And you may recollect, my Lord," said the Duchess, "that George Buchanan, the famed Scottish historian, relates the very remarkable forewarning which James the Fourth of Scotland had in the church of St. Michael, Linlithgow, from an old man of venerable aspect, and clad in blue habiliments. This person forewarned the king from his proceeding in his expedition against England, fore-telling to him that it would prove his ruin. The queen also remonstrated with him against the project of invasion, by acquainting him with the visions and frightful dreams which she nightly encountered. But no warning could avert his destiny. And he fell with a number of his nobility in the ever memorable field of Flodden Sept. 9, 1513."

"There is," said the Duke, "another case in point; it is that of Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex, who foretold that his son, Robert Devereux, afterwards Earl of Essex, should never survive his thirty-sixth year; observing at the same time that his father had died at that period of life, and that he would himself die at that age. The death of his son, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, who was beheaded in the thirty-fourth year of his age, 1567, is a well known and recorded fact."

Here the Duchess rejoined:-"And you may recollect too, my dear Lord, that Mezeray, the historian of France, records, that it had been foretold to Henry the Fourth of France and Navarre, that he should die in a coach; so that upon the least jolt he would cry out, as if he beheld the grave opened ready to swallow him. And it is as well known that this prediction took place, Henry the Fourth having been assassinated in his coach as he was proceeding to the arsenal to consult with the immortal Sully, when he was stabbed by the knife of an assassin, 1610."

"Sully too," rejoined Lady Lucy, "in his admirable memoirs, makes mention of those black presages which, it is but too certain, this unfortunate prince had of his cruel destiny; they were indeed dreadful and surprising to the last degree!"

Lady Adelaide next paid a short tribute to this learned and mystical investigation:-"It may not be amiss," she said, "briefly to notice the prediction of the death of the Duke of Buckingham, as related by Lord Clarendon in his history, and built, as he emphatically expresses it, upon better foundations of credit than usually such discourses are founded.-His account is strikingly remarkable; but to recount the accompanying circumstances would occupy too much time, and seriously intrude on the pleasantry of the company by entering into the awful and appalling detail; I must beg, therefore, to refer those friends who may be desirous to gratify their curiosity on this subject to consult the pages of the noble historiographer. The presages of our poet Dryden are deserving of notice, he was extremely addicted to judicial astrology: upon the birth of his son he took his horoscope, and all his calculations respecting him marvellously were accomplished; and which are too recent in the recollection of those present to render it necessary for me to dwell upon; only to observe, that these astrological calculations were fulfilled with an accuracy almost amounting to mathematical correctness."

It came next to Sir Patricius Placebo's turn to contribute to these ghostly recollections, who began with a stately hem. "I rather think I can notify to this noble company a very remarkable circumstance, and I flatter myself indeed it is one not generally known. It is recorded in the life of the very erudite and estimable scholar, John H. Hottinger, that when he ascended the pulpit of the academy of Basle to make a farewell oration to that society previous to his departure for the city of Leyden, where he had been appointed Professor of the Oriental Languages at the College of Leyden, he observed a line written upon it, which much disturbed him, and surprised the whole auditory, as being prophetical of his death, which happened soon after. The line was from Ovid:-

'Carmina jam moriens, canit exequialia cygnus.'

'The dying swan his fun'ral song doth sing.'

Shortly after this the very learned and accomplished scholar was drowned with part of his family in the river Lemit, in the year 1667. The due application of this celebrated line, and the analogy of the water-bird fore-telling the time and manner of his death-hem!

DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!

Yes, doubtless, there is much grave matter for deep reflection in this well-authenticated event."

Lord Glandarah prepared to yield his contribution to the strange topic under discussion. His Lordship had resided nearly all his life upon the continent; he was a Roman Catholic, and this, it was believed, was the disposing reason for his living abroad. He spoke broken English so like a foreigner, that he might have been almost mistaken for one, as has been already observed in a previous chapter. "Gad save my soul, my Lady Duchess, I do remember one of a very remarkable occurrence that happened some few years ago when I was travelling through Normandy. My Lord Roscommon, being then a boy of ten years of age, had preternatural intelligence of his father's death. Gad save my soul, it is the very most extraordinary circumstance to be sure! Your Grace must know that it happened at Caen: one day his Lordship was, as it were, madly extravagant in playing, leaping, getting over the tables, and playing, Gad save my soul! many other wild gambols. He was, sans doubté, wont to be sober, staid, lad enough. Those who saw him exclaimed, 'heaven grant this bodes no ill-luck to him!' In the heat of this extravagant fit he suddenly cried out, 'My father is dead!' And assuremént, Gad save my soul! a fortnight after accounts arrived from Ireland that the Earl of Roscommon was dead! This account was told me, Gad save my soul, by Mr. Knolles, who had been his governor, and at that time with him. And, Gad save my soul! I have often heard my Lord Roscommon's relations affirm this account to be true. Now, Gad save my soul! could any thing be more extraordinary? Sans doute c'est impossible!"

The hour was indeed very late; and the guests arose, and making due obeisance, withdrew. Adelaide, according to the good old fashion, embraced her parents, and retired to her chamber. But she had no sooner lain down to rest than she heartily repented of what she had done. The tempest continued with unabated rage; so much so indeed that the guests departed not from the Castle, but there found a safe retreat from "the pelting of the pitiless storm." The storm still continued to increase; the roaring waves of the Atlantic thundered against the shore, and burst upon the firm foundations of Tyrconnel Castle.

Adelaide's chamber was ever and anon illuminated with brilliant flashes of vivid lightning; and often did she wish the mysterious deed undone!

----"Oh,

Between the acting of a dreadful thing

And the first motion, all the interim is

Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream!"

But what Adelaide saw upon that awful night ever remained untold.-She could never be prevailed upon to divulge the tremendous and frightful circumstances of that eventful night. The next morning, as it afterwards appeared, she complained of being very unwell, and kept her bed for some days. The blame was very discreetly thrown upon her having eaten too many nuts-having danced too much; and, moreover, supper having disagreed with her; besides a variety of et cetera explanations. It was a long period before Adelaide resumed her usual serenity and gaiety of temper; and whenever her friends or acquaintance would interrogate her upon the adventures of that memorable night, she would assume much reserve, and seemed displeased: this the only occasion, it was by all remarked, that she had ever been observed to have appeared displeased since they first had the happiness to be acquainted with her.

The unwarrantable practice of inquiring into futurity prevailed very generally at and before the period which we write of; and most strange to say, at times the sacred volume of the Scriptures,[21] and at others the poems of Virgil and Homer, were consulted for oracular purposes. The sortes Prenestin?, sortes Homerian?, and sortes Virgilian?, which were modes of inquiring into the secrets of futurity, are well known to the classic reader. A remarkable instance of the trial of this latter sortilege occurred to King Charles I. when at the city of Oxford, during the civil wars. Going one day to inspect the Boedlian Library, His Majesty was shown, along with other volumes, an early copy of Virgil, beautifully printed and exquisitely bound. Lord Falkland, to amuse the King, insisted upon His Majesty's trying his fortune by the sortes Virgilian?; whereupon the King, opening the volume, hit upon the fourth ?neid, line 615, which much disconcerted him.

The passage is prophetic of the fortunes of ?neas, and, mutato nomine, it was applicable to the royal martyr.[22]

Lord Falkland, upon observing that the King was discomposed, resolved to try his own fortune in the same manner, hoping that perchance he might alight on some sentence that would bear no relation to his own, and thereby turn aside the thoughts of the King from any impression the lines might have occasioned. However, the subject of the passage upon which he unluckily stumbled was fully as unpropitious and as applicable as that upon which his sovereign had alighted. It was the lamentation of Evander for the untimely death of his son, in the 11th ?neid. It is well known that the eldest son of this nobleman, a young man of amiable character, had been previously slain in the first battle of Newburg.

It is recorded of the famous and excellent sculptor Giovanni Lorenzi Bernini, that upon his beholding a painting by Vandyke, which presents three portraits of King Charles I. on the same canvass-the one a front face, the other a half side, and the third a profile-the artist observed: "whoever the individual be whose likeness these three portraits represent, I am of opinion that the same will come to an untimely end."

This painting had been expressly taken and forwarded to Rome, in order that Bernini might, from the resemblance, sculpture a marble bust of the King, which accordingly he did; and King Charles, the greatest and best patron of the fine arts that England can boast of, was so much pleased with the performance, that he sent Bernini a ring of very great value; and said to the person who was deputed to bring it: "Andate a coronar quello mano, che ha fatto si bel lavorno." [23]

All attempts to inquire into and penetrate the secrets of futurity are highly to be condemned, as they are nothing less than tempting the Almighty; it is not for frail man to anticipate the ways of Providence, and discover these events that heaven always in its wisdom, and often in its mercy, withholds from mortal eyes. But it is indeed full time to close (as we apprehend we have trespassed too long on our reader's forbearance)

----"The day to superstition dear,

* * *

Hallow'd and reverenc'd in the olden time,

Sacred to every saint of every clime."