The astonishing success of Baptiste Bernadotte, Prince of Ponte Corvo, who was selected as heir-presumptive to the crown of Sweden, which he wore--not without dignity--as Charles XIV., is said to have been foretold to him by the same celebrated fortune-teller who predicted that of Bonaparte, and who so fully possessed the superstitious confidence of the Empress Josephine. In a biography of his life, published at Pau, we are told that Bernadotte believed in his special and independent destiny, and in a kind of tutelar divinity, who vouchsafed to him a special protection. An ancient traditionary chronicle is reported to have contained the prediction of a certain fairy, who had married one of his ancestors, that an illustrious king should spring from her race. Bernadotte never forgot this legend, which had charmed his early days, and possibly it was not without its influence on his future destiny. And how greatly the supernatural guided him is illustrated by the following event. Wishing to overcome the difficulties he encountered in Norway by means of the sword, he proposed to despatch his son Oscar at the head of an army, for the purpose of reducing the rebels, a proceeding which was strongly opposed by the Council of State. One day, after an animated discussion on the subject, he mounted his horse and galloped some distance from the capital, when suddenly he beheld an old woman, strangely clad. “What do you want?” asked the King. To which the apparition replied, “If Oscar goes to the war you meditate, he will not give but receive the first blow.” The next day, bearing in his countenance the traces of a sleepless night, he presented himself at the Council, and said, “I have changed my mind; we will negotiate for peace, but I must have honourable terms.” Amongst some of the cases recorded in this country of royalty consulting supposed prophets, or being brought into their contact, may be mentioned that of Matilda of Flanders, who, hearing that a German hermit was possessed of the gift of prophecy, requested his prayers for the reconciliation of her jarring son and husband, and his opinion as to what would be the result of their feud. But William was just as sceptical in such matters, and, when he accidentally put on his hauberk the hind part before, he quickly changed it, and said to those who stood by, “I never believed in omens, nor have I ever put my faith in fortune-tellers, or divinations of any kind, for my trust is in God.” And he added, “Let not this mischance discourage you,” knowing full well how easily frightened even the bravest of his followers were by ill-omens.