by a declaration of six
house-holders, that the forty days had elapsed. In the preceding century
(in 1498) an ordinance still more extraordinary had been issued. It was at
the coronation of Louis XII., when a great number of the nobles came to
Paris to take part in the ceremony. The provost, desiring to guard them
from the danger of infection, published an order that all persons of both
sexes, suffering under certain specified maladies, should quit the capital
in twenty-four hours, _under the penalty of being thrown into the river_!

VISION OF CHARLES XI.

We are in the habit of laughing incredulously at stories of visions and
supernatural apparitions, yet some are so well authenticated, that if we
refuse to believe them, we should, in consistency, reject all historical
evidence. The fact I am about to relate is guaranteed by a declaration
signed by four credible witnesses; I will only add, that the prediction
contained in this declaration was well known, and generally spoken of,
long before the occurrence of the events which have apparently fulfilled
it.

Charles XI. father of the celebrated Charles XII. was one of the most
despotic, but, at the same time, wisest monarchs, who ever reigned in
Sweden. He curtailed the enormous privileges of the nobility, abolished
the power of the Senate, made laws on his own authority; in a word, he
changed the constitution of the country, hitherto an oligarchy, and forced
the States to invest him with absolute power. He was a man of an
enlightened and strong mind, firmly attached to the Lutheran religion; his
disposition was cold, unfeeling, and phlegmatic, utterly destitute of
imagination. He had just lost his queen, Ulrica Eleonora, and he appeared
to feel her death more than could have been expected from a man of his
character. He became even more gloomy and silent than before, and his
incessant application to business proved his anxiety to banish painful
reflections.

Toward the close of an autumn evening, he was sitting in his dressing-gown
and slippers, before a large fire, in his private apartment. His
chamberlain, Count Brahe, and his physician, Baumgarten, were with him.
The evening wore away, and his Majesty did not dismiss them as usual; with
his head down and his eyes fixed on the fire, he maintained a profound
silence, weary of his guests, and fearing, half unconsciously, to remain
alone. The count and his companion tried various subjects of conversation,
b