Vo I: XVII H:l H~3 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, | Princeton, N. J. t Bequeathed by the Hon. E. BOUDI\OT, LL.D. % Case DWision..j*Sjpw*w<.-^| Mfa^ao^ | Shelf, ecu ^ i .f.. | I*^, No,. ._..._._ J fc>~7 Y V r>; FAITHFUL NARRATIVE O F T H E CONVERSION and DEATH O F COUNT STRUENSEE, Late Prime Minister of Denmark; Together with Letters of his Parents to Him, and alio a Letter of his own ; wherein he relates how he came to alter his Sentiments of Religion. Publilhed by D.MUNTER, An Eminent Divine, who was ordered by the King to prepare him for Death. TO WHICH IS ADDED, THE HISTORY O F COUNT ENEVOLD BRANDT, From the Time of his Imprifonment to his Death. Together with two anonymous Letters, found in his Pocket-Book, wherein he wfcs forewarned of what happened to him Four Months after j and likewife an exact Copy of his SENTENCE. The Whole tranflated from THE ORIGINAL GERMAN. Embelliihed with the Heads and Coats of Arms of both the unhappy Counts. LONDON: Printed for U. Linde, Stationer, in Bridges-Street, Covent-Garden, mdcclxxiii. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://www.archive.org/details/faithfulnarrativOOmuen ( « ) ADVERTISEMENT O F T H E TRANSLATOR. 7\/[0 S T accounts which are given of converfions of hardened finners, are drawn up with more enthufiafin than rea- fon, and are too frequently embelliß^ed with declamations, tales, dreams, and other infig- nificant trifies ; fo that Chrifiians, who are better acquainted with the true fpirit of our divine religion, muß be offended by them ; and others, who are no friends of religion, will certainly turn them into ridicule, and harden themfelves in their unbelief and immorality. The Tranfiat or took the original of this book A 2 into ( iv ) into his hand with prepoßeßions of this kind\ but he found himfelf agreeably deceived, and thought it, after an attentive readings capable of promoting the caufe of true religio?! and real ipirtue, for both which he is not ajhamed tq profefs himfelf a warm advocate. With this view he undertook the tranßation of it, fear- ing that in thifc as well as in all other nations, there are but too many whofe prin- ciples of religion and morality are ßmilar to thofe of Struenfe, and who indulge them-. felves, according to their fiations and oppor- tunities, full as much as he did, in every paffion and vice which proved his ruin. There is one thing which muß recommend this account to the particular attention of the reader ; and that is, its authenticity : for there is not the leaf doubt in this refpec~l, which the Tran- ßator could not engage to fatisfy, if it was required ; but he trußs, that a candid pe- rufal of the work itfelf will afford fufficient evidence of its being genuine. D. Munter, who is the undoubted Author of the account concerning Struenfee, is an eminent Divine, and ( v ) and ReBor of one of the principal German churches at Copenhagen ; and the character he bears is fufßcient to eßablifo its vera- city. The fame muß be faid of the Hi- fiory of Count Brandt, which was writ- ten by D. Hee. The/e clergymen werejpeci- ally appointed by the King of Denmark, to attend the two refpeBive fate pr if oners ; and therefore the E?zgli/7j reader is dejired to re- move all unfavourable imprefions, which are generally annexed to publications of gaol ordi- nariesi As to the tranßation, the Tranßator owns, that it would be the highefl prefumption in him to pretend to any elegance of flyle ; he being a Foreigner, who, but a few years ago, was entirely unacquainted with the Engli/Jj language. He hopes, therefore, the candid Englijh reader, who is maß er of his native tongue, will overlook the faults he may here happen to meet with. — He further de- clares, that though he is fire he has not wilfully mißaken the original, which he may be fuppofed to be in feme tneafure A 2 a maßer ( vi ) a maß er of, from his education and profeßion, yet he has, according to the rule of Horace, not tranflated word for word; and many ■places where the good Doctors appeared to him a little declamatory, and too prolix in explain- ing fpeculative doBrines, he has partly left cut, and partly abridged-, and he is now, after the whole is finifhed,fo far from thinking that he has done wrong in this refpeB, that he rather wißoes he had left out a great deal more* Neverthelefs, every thing of importance is tränßated, and thofe paffages which are Stru- enfee*s own words are, together with his letter to D. Munter and all other letters through the whole book, tränßated verbatim ; and the Englißj reader, who is wholly unac- quainted with the language of the original, and therefore enabled to perufe the tranßation only, may rely upon his reading a faithful one. ( ™ ) D. MU.NTER's PREFACE. MANY reafons have induced meto re- late the falutary reformation of Count Struenfee. He has made much noife in the world. Every thing that is written about him is read with eager- nefs. Perhaps this account may be per- ufed with utility, and even excite the attention of thofe who are of the fame way of thinking as Struenfee formerly was, to- reflect ferioully on religion and morality. He himielf wifhed that thofe, who through him were feduced to a contempt of religion and morality, or were only mif- kd in their notions of religion and virtue, might be made acquainted of his return to truth and better fcntiments, and of the manner in which he was reformed. He hoped ( . viii ) hoped that by this means, thofe bad im- preffions might be effaced, which he had made upon their minds. Laftly, his converfion will reconcile him again to the virtuous, whom his principles and his ex- ample might have offended. That I may the better convince my readers, of the truth of what I relate, I have chofen to give an account of every fingle interview I had with him. I never went to him unprepared. I meditated on every fubjed: firft, and then wrote it down.- As foon as I came home, I entered in my journal what had happened and what he faid, and wherever I have introduced him fpeaking, it is as near as poffible in his own words. Some things which I relate may be J-ooked upon as trifling, but fenfible readers will oftentimes find the character of a per- fon placed in a llronger light by thefe trifles, and then they ceafe to be fuch, and do not defer ve this name. The ( « ) The books I gave from time to time to the Count, and which he perufed with attention, filled up many vacancies in my inftru&ion. They prepared him for that which followed, and enlightened his un- derstanding more in one month, than by mere converfation could have been done in twelve. Kow the account given by Struenfee himfelf in his own writing arofe, I have related in the courfe of the narrative itfelf. But is it true that he wrote it himfelf? His hand-writing is well enough known in Den- mark, the paper he wrote upon was given him by his judges, every meet was num- bered and figned by them, and could reach no other perfons hands but his. — But have I dictated to him the contents ? I declare that it fully can be proved, that he, during my abience, filled up thofe fheets, which were marked, and were given him one by one, and were delivered up again in the fame manner. But is what he has drawn up, and which I publifh here, a true ac- count, ( s ) count, is it agreeable to the original ? Whoever entertains doubts of this kind, may infpedt the original itfelf, which is in my pofleffion, or may take it along with him for a time, fufficient to compare it with the copy. I thought it neceflary to men- tion all thefe particulars, becaufe I know, how little the narrative of a clergyman, concerning the converfion of a deift, is credited by thofe, whofe party he has left. They always are ready to fay: It is all impofition. However, they certainly will not be able to prove it in this inftance. If they mould fay, that Struenfee turned chriftian through fear, or that he was out of his mind, or that I ftunned him with my declamations ; I muri leave it to them to judge as they think proper. My intention in publishing what Strnenfee with his own hand has drawn up, is to make it appear, that he himfelf had attentively confidered his former fyftem as well as chriftianity, and that, after fuch a mature confideration, he was induced to quit ( ri ) quit the former, and to embrace the latter. An accuracy in ideas and expreffions, no body will expect in the writings of a man, who ftudied religion but a few months, who through the whole courie of his former life thought very little of it, and who never wrote a word about it. If it mould be found entirely wanting in fome places, I hope every chriftian (and every chriftian will judge according to charity) will not charge him with herefy, which was (even the name of it) unknown to him. The chief point, that he died trufting in the mercy of God through Chrift Jefus, with fentiments as well re- formed as could be done without a miracle, I hope no body will difpute. But I fcarce dare to judge of the merit of this conver- fion, fince it concerns me too much, and I wifh too ardently that every one may believe it to be a fmcere one; even this fhews me the danger I am in, of deceiving myfelf in my opinion. Therefore, having here ( *s ) here faithfully given the narrative of this converfion, I leave it to fenfible and judi- cious chriflians to determine concerning the probability of it. I do not know whether I have occafion to declare, that by the account which I give here, my intention is neither to render the Count's memory odious, nor to apolo- gize for him, Thofe who on account of his crimes, have juft reafon to be prejudiced againfl him, will now think it their duty to forgive him, and to pity his former in- fatuation. Thofe who find his behaviour in the latter part of his life decent and be- coming a chriitian, will not forget what he was before, and how inevitably he drew his melancholy fate upon himfelf. Copenhagen, 'June the 2 2d, 1772. ERRATUM. P. So, 1. 14. for now found* tend formerly thought. THE iirfiMaMlM fl I i li' i it THE H I S T O R Y O F T H B CONVERSION O F COUNT STRÜENSEB, COUNT Struenfee had, neither before nor during the time of his greateft profperity^ fhewn himfelf a religious or a moral man, at leaft no one could think him to be fuch ; his own example, fome of his public regulations, and his aboliihing fuch laws as were made to reftrain vice and immorality, feemed clearly to prove, that the general opinion concerning his fentiments of religion was not altogether ill founded. Whoever had the moil favourable opinion of him, thought him an inconfiderate man, who had given himfelf up entirely to pleafure and ambition, and who perhaps micrht recover from his errors. But all fenfible people agreed in this, that during his adminiftration religion had every thing to fear, and that the B morals ( 2 ) morals of the people, at lead in the metropolis,, were in danger of becoming wild* and ungo- vernable. Thefe reflections occafioned many honeft and good people, who are incapable of rejoicing at the misfortunes of others, to look upon the i yth of January, the day when Struenfee fell, as one of the happieft days in their life : they faw the rights of virtue and piety fecured from that danger which feemed to threaten them ; they wifhed that the man, from whom no more was to be feared, and whofe unhappy fate might eafily be foretold, would acknowledge his errors and his crimes, and that God afterwards would grant him mercy. When by the committee that was appointed to enquire into his affairs, fo much was difco- vered that it was fure his life would fall a facri- fice to public juflice, I received the King's orders to vifit him in his prifon, and to mind the welfare of his foul. I did not know the man, nor did he know me ; and as to our prin- ciples and lentiments, they were to all appear- ance very different. I had even to expect that my profeflion and the intent I vifited him with would make him diftruft me ; on the other hand, I had little reafon to put great confidence in him. However, I entertained fome hopes, that in his prefent fituation he might find even a con- verfation ( 3 1 verfation with a clergyman not quite infupport- able -, and the compaflion I had for him would never permit me to prepofiefs him againft me by fevere and ill-timed expoftulations. Befides, I was told by fome of his former acquaintance, that he was open, and in fome refpects fincere ; I thought it therefore not impofllble to efta- blifh a friendfhip between us that might pro- mote my intention concerning him. With thefe hopes I began to vifit him, and I praife God for the bleffing he has granted to my labours. T^heßrß Co?iference. March thefirß^ 1772. I Could at prefent have no other view . but only to lay fome foundation for our mutual confidence, and to make him look upon the intention of my vifits as important, and, when an opportunity mould offer, to know his fenti- ments about religion. When he was told I was there, and wifhed to fpeak to him, he enquired whether I came by command ? being anfwered in the affirmative, he complied. He received me with a four and gloomy countenance, in he attitude of a man who was prepared to receive many fevere re- proaches, with a filence that ihewed contempt. We were alone, and I was greatly moved, be- holding the mifery of a man who, but a few B 2 weeks ( 4 ) weeks ago, was the firfl: and the moft powerful of all the King's fubjects. I could neither hide my feelings, nor would I. Good Count, faid I, you fee I come with a heart that is fenfibly affected for you : I know and feel my obliga- tions towards an unhappy man, whom God, I am lure, never intended to be born for fuch a misfortune. I fincerely wifh to'make my vifits, which I am ordered to pay you, agreeable and ufeful. — Here he quitted his affected attitude, his countenance grew more ferene, he gave me his hand, and thanked me for the mare I took in his fate. Our converfation, continued I, will be now and then difagreeable both to you and me -, but I profefs moft folemnly, that I (hall tell you even thefe melancholy truths, which I have to communicate to you, without feverity, and even with pain to myfelf. I know I have no right to give you any unneceffary un- eafinefs, and you may depend upon my fincerity. Should it happen that accidentally in our con- verfation a word mould flip from me which per- haps may appear offenfive, I declare before- hand that it never was faid with fuch a defign, and I beg that in fuch inftances you will over- look my precipitation. With an air and a look that appeared to me not very favourable, he replied, " Oh ! you may fay what you pleafe." I (hall ( 5 ) I fhall certainly, good Count, fay nothing but what my great defire to contribute towards your future happinefs, as much as lies in my power, fhall oblige me to. I wifh to raife your attention to a ierious confideration of your moral ftate, and how you ftand in regard to God. You do not know how your fate in this world may be decided, and chriftianity, which I teach and believe, makes it my duty earneftly to wifh for your everlafting happinefs. Confider my vifits and my converfation only in this view, and I hope you will not difapprove of them. I had feveral reafons to decline the King's order which brings me to you : but the hope of com- forting you in your misfortunes, and of advifing you to avoid greater ones, was too important for me. Do not charge me with views of a meaner fort. I come not for my own fake, but only with an intent of being ufeful to you. He then confefled twice that he was fully con- vinced, I did it for his own advantage. If you are convinced of this, continued I with an emotion of heart, grant me then that confi- dence, which you cannot refufe a man, who is anxious for your welfare. I (hall return it with the mod thankful friendfliip, although you in the beginning mould take me for a weak and prejudiced man. I fliall not be tired in this B 3 friend- ( 6 ) friendfhip, but endeavour to make it ufeful to you, fince I am your only friend upon earth» and fince you certainly will call upon your only friend for comfort. Here he flared at me, as I think, with tears in his eyes, and prefTed me by the hand. I found him moved, and endeavoured to make ufe of this advantageous moment. If you wifh to receive that comfort, faid I, which, in my opinion,. I can promife you as the only true one, do not cheriih that unhappy thought of dying like a philofophieal hero; for I doubt whether you will be able to keep it up to the end. I am afraid your courage will leave you at laft, though perhaps you may force yourfelf to fhew it outwardly. -Firmnefs and tranquillity of mind, on the near approach of death, is certainly the effect only of a good confcience. "In all my adverfities," anfwered he, " I have Jhewn firmnefs of mind, and agreeably to this character, I hope I ihall die not like an hypo- crite." Hypocrify, faid I, in fuch moments, would be ftiil worfe than an affected firmnefs, though even this would be a kind of hypocrify. In cafe of death, do not truft to your former refolution, and do not compare your former adverfities, which were perhaps nothing but ficknefs and diftrefs, with that fate which is now ready ( 7 ) ready to fall upon you. — But perhaps you entertain fome hopes of faving your life ? — " No !" faid he, " I flatter myfelf with no hopes at all." — But you do not fee death near you, faid I ; you do not know the time when you mail leave this world ? Perhaps it is at fome months diftance. But, (here I took him by the hand) my dear Count, fuppofe I was ordered to tell you that you was to die to-day or to-morrow, would not your courage fail ? " I do not know," faid he. But, continued I, if your courage mould leave you, and it was then too late to look cut for comfort and hope, how do 'you think your heart would ftand affected ? He an- fwered nothing. You fee by this that the intent of our converfation is of great importance to you, and deferves all your attention. I aim at nothing lefs, than to prepare you for eternity, that it may be a happy one. , But I muft expecl: that we are not both of the fame opinion, in regard to the flate of man after death. Yet, though you might have perfuaded yourfelf that there is no life to come, and confequently neither rewards nor punimments, I cannot help think- ing that there never was a time, when you were fully convinced of it. Your inward feelings have frequently contradicted you. The thought of eternity frightened you, though unfortunately B 4 . you ( 8 ) you had .art enough to ftifle it in its birth. — However, it will be always out of your power to prove that there is no eternity. He heard me with attention, but he would not own that he ever had any inward impreflions of immortality, or had been afraid of it. Per- haps he might have been, but he did not recol- lect it. He owned the thought, that he mould fopn entirely ceafe to be, was difagreeable to him -, it frightened him, he wifhed to live, even if it were with lefs happinefs than he now enjoyed in his priibn. But he added, he did not find the thought of total annihilation fo terrible as he had found it was to many, who entertained the fame fentiments with him. I continued, You cannot deny the poffibility of a future life, for there is at leaft as much probability for it as there is againft it. I believe I could evince from mere reafon, that eternity is highly probable, which in fuch cafes amounts almoft to certainty. But fuppofe it was only probable, which you muft agree to, it is even then a matter of great importance to you, for you to know what may perhaps happen to you hereafter. In cafe you had to fear an un- happy life, you mould prepare yourfelf againft it, or make it at leaft tolerable. — He agreed to this, fc>ut added, " You will hardly make me believe that ( 9 ) that there is a future life, and though you perhaps may convince my underftanding by reafons which I cannot overthrow, my heart however will not yield to the conviction. My opinion, which is oppofite to your's, is fo ftrongly woven into my fentiments •, I have fo many arguments in favour of it •, I have made fo many obfervations from anatomy and phyfic, which confirm it, that I think it will be impoffible for me to renounce my principles. This how- ever I promife, that I will not wilfully oppofe your endeavours to enlighten me, but rather wifh, as far as it lies in my power, to concur with you. I will not diiTemble, but honeftly tell you of what I am convinced, and of what I am not. I will deal with you openly ; this is my character, and my friends can bear witnefs to it." In our enquiries, I defired him to guard againft his care- lefs way of thinking, to which, in my opinion, he had been hitherto addicted, and which had thrown him into this depth of mifery. He anfwered ■ " I do not deny my having lived inconfi- derately in the world, and I feel now the con- fequences of it." I truft in your promife, added I, that you will deal with me honeftly. If you did not, you would impoie upon me, though perhaps but for a, few C io ) a few days. But you certainly cannot deceive the Supreme Being and your own confcience. It would give me the higheft pleafure if my intentions fhonld fucceed. But befides the afliftance of God, you muft do all the reft your- felf. I can only guide you, and it is your own intereft to mind your welfare, and you are obliged to employ all the time which is left you upon this bufinefs. I afterwards defired him to acquaint me with his fyftem of religion, that I might be able to judge, where our opinions differed. I am in- clined to think you are not a chriftian, and you may eafily guefs how much I wiih you to be one. It is not my intention to force chriftianity upon you ; but I hope to reprefent it to you as fo important and amiable, that you yourfelf will think you ftand greatly in need of it. He anfwered : " It was true, he was very far from being a chriftian, though he acknowledged and adored a Supreme Being, and believed that the world and mankind had their origin from God. — He could never perfuade himfelf, that man confifted of two fubftances. He looked upon himfelf and all other men as mere machines ; he had borrowed this fyftem, not from de la Mettrie, whofe book he had never read, . but had formed it ( II ) it by his own meditation. It was God that ruft animated this human machine ; but as foon as its motion ceafed, that is, when man died, there was no more for him either to hope or to fear. He did not deny that man was en- dowed with fome power of liberty, but his free actions were determined only by his fenfations. Therefore, man's actions could be accounted moral, only as far as they related to fociety. Every thing that man could do, ' was in itfelf indifferent. God did not concern himfelf about our actions, and if their confequences were in man's own power, and he could prevent their being hurtful to fociety, nobody had a right to reproach him about them. He added, he muft own, that he was very forry for fome of his actions, and in particular, that he had drawn others with him into misfortunes •, but he feared no bad confequences or punifhments after this life. He could not fee, why fuch punifhments were neceflary to fatisfy the juftice of God, even though he allowed that God minded our actions. Man was punifhed already enough in this world for his tranfgreflions. He him- felf was certainly not happy during the time of his greater! profperity. He had, at leafl during the laft months of it, to ftruggle with many difagreeable paflions. — One of his principal ob- jections C 12 ) jections againft chriftianity was, that it was not univerfal. If it were, really a divine revelation, it abfolutely fliould have been given to all mankind." I faid at this time but little to anfwer all this, but recommended to him an excellent book, which, as I hoped, would contribute towards clearing up his ideas about religion. He afked with a kind of diffidence, " What book ?" Jerulalem's Confiderations on the principal Truths of Religion, faid I •, a book which you will re#d with pleafure, if it even was only foi? the elegance of its ftile. He defired me to bring it to him. I had obferved, that he was really very uneafy about fome of his actions, and I thought proper to encreafe his uneafinefs. I fuppofe my readers know how much he was to be blamed for his conduct towards count Bernftorf *. I acquainted him, therefore, upon taking my leave of him, with his death. He called out with an emotion of heart : " What, is he dead ?" and feemed to fhudder. Yes, faid I, he is. His wifdom, religion, and piety, have preferved him the * Count Bernftorf was minifter of ftate in Denmark fince the year 1750. Struenfee got this great and beloved minifter diimifled, by a letter of the king's, dated Septem- ber the 15th, 1770, with a penfion of 6000 crowns ; he retired to Hamburgh, where he died the 18th of February, 17?2 ' character ( '3 ) Character of a great man to the laft ; and it is generally believed, that the grief of his laft years had haftened his death. When^ I fpoke this, I looked at him with an air which he feemed to underftand, for he bluihed. The fecond Conference. March the third, TH E firft thing I had to do now, with Count Struenfee, was to convince him of the falfity of his fyftem, that man was a mere ma- chine. For hence he concluded, that there was no future life. Befid"s, as he looked upon eternity as a mere fable, he could not regard religion and morality. I reminded him of his promife, not to oppofe truth wilfully, but rather to meet it half way. You think your opinion, faid I, of man's being a mere machine, to be true, and you conclude from thence more, than there is in reality foun- dation for. However, I prefume, you think this opinion of yours is no more than a philofo- phical hypothefis, and in this view let us confider it to day. It is not very neceflary to enter into a particular confideration of it, for it cannot be proved from thence, that there is no futurity. However, let us confider it, that you may not think I intend to furprize you. — When I had 2 exhaufted ( 14 ) exhaufted all my arguments and reafonings, 1 found they had but little effect upon his under- (landing. At lafl he owned, that the hypothetic* of the exiftence of a foul, was better founded than his. But he faid, he had good reafons to maintain his former fentiments ; for the know- ledge of man, was in general very uncertain. He might, perhaps, hitherto have impofed upon himfelf : but he was liable, as often as he adopted a new opinion, to be deceived. Befides, his mind was, in his prefent fituation, neither compofed nor ferene enough to examine his prefent principles. He mould have done this fooner j it was now too late. Several things being replied, the whole concluded with a feri- ous and tender exhortation, not to let the few lafl weeks of his life flip away ufelefs for eter- nity, but to do his bell, to enter into it with good hopes. He then looked very earneflly at me, and calling down his eyes, replied : " You mud have a great deal of goodnefs, humanity, anö MtrTfulrieß of a minifter, fince you are fo anxious about my welfare, and are not difpleafed at my not agreeing with you exactly in opinion." I aflfure you, continued I, I fhail not, until the very laft day of your life, defift from exhprt- ing* and intreating you, and I hope God will blefs ( H ) blefs my endeavours. But, good Count, I am afraid of your unhappy difpofition, which has contributed fo much to your misfortune ; your ambition, and your defire to be always in the right, prevents your doing juftice to truth. How is it poffible, that you can be ftill fond of an inclination, which has thrown you into fuch a mifery ? " Oh ! faid he, this inclination is gone, I am now very little in my own eyes ; and how could I be ambitious in this place !" This paf- fion, anfwered I, rages certainly flill in your foul. The occafions of mewing itfelf as for- merly are only wanting. But though it may oppofe the truth, if you indulge it, yet take heed, left defpifed truth mould revenge itfelf. Since it was now greatly my intereft, to foften his heart for humane and tender feelings» for by this I hoped to make way for religion ; I begged him to confider, how infinitely he had afflicted his parents, and how much it, therefore, was his duty, to ufe all his endeavours to procure them that only comfort which was left them, not to be anxious about his future flate. He arifwered, " My father is an honeft man, he acts according to his own fentiments ; but I believe he has treated me too feverely." You may think fo, faid I, but I fancy you are mif- 3 taken. ( 16 ) taken. Without doubt you have been extrava-» gartt from your very youth, which your honeft father difapprovcd. This you called feverity* " This is true, but" — But, faid I, you knew he was father, and you fon; Were you ignorant that you owed obedience to your father, who was befides an honeft man ? " I was dutiful to a certain age." But, faid I, were you after cer- tain years lefs fon, and he lefs father? Confucius, whofe moral fyftem, as I remember to have heard, you prefer to that Of Chrift, might have informed you better. He replied, " You are in the right !" I left him Jerufalem's Meditations *, which he promifed to read with attention, and took my leave of him, moved and in tears on account of his mifery. He defired me to vifit him foon again* The third Conference. March the fifth. TT7HEN I came to the Count, I addreffed * * him thus, — My heart tells me that we mail advance to-day a ftep forwards. I fee you read Jerufalem's Meditations. How far are you advanced, and how do you like the book ? " I * Conßderations on the principal Truths of Religion. To his Highnefs the Hereditary Prince of Brunfwlc. Vol» i. Third Edition. Brunf-wic. J770. am ( *7 ) am come already to that meditation which con- cerns the morality of man. The book is ex- cellently written, and I find nothing which contradicts my reafon. I found fomething againft my opinion of man's being a machine; but full I think fenfibility proves it, and explains every thing." I anfwered, that the organs of our fenfes were no more than mirrours and fpy-glaffes, through which we obferved the objefts ; that neither rnirrour nor fpy-glafs could fee any thing ; but there muft be a third, who obferved the ob- jects through thefe instruments, and this third was our foul, He was fenfible of this, but it feemed to be a hard matter for him to own he was in the wrong. Neverthelefs, it was neceflfary he mould make this confeffion before I could proceed any farther. I undertook therefore to prove, that the manner in which his opinion had taken its origin, and had interefted his heart fo much, tended neither to his credit nor to his advantage. I looked upon this as the beft means to expel one fhame by an- other. — He interrupted me very feldom during the time I was fpeaking, but heard with much attention, and owned that I had exactly pointed out the way which had led him to his opinion. After a (hort paufe on both fides, during which he feemed to be in a deep meditation, he called C out; ( i8 ) out: "Oh! I hope now, and wifn for immor- tality." I guefled directly that the reading of Jerufalem had brought him fo far, and he foon afterwards faid himfelf ; " It is impoinble not to be brought over by that book." As he now hoped and wifhed for immortality, I thought it needlefs to enter into more ample difquifitions about the exiftence, nature and im- mortality of the foul. Befides, I was afraid that thefe fpeculative truths might detain us too long, and miflead us to various refearches which are but little adapted to make the heart better. It was enough for me that he now was fenfible of the exiftence of eternity : however, we talked to-day about the arguments for the exiftence of a foul. The falfe eafe, which hitherto had rendered the Count. infenfible, and which was fupported by his perfuafion of there being no future life, was now interrupted. I thought it neceffary to re- move it entirely before I could procure him true eafe of mind. I muft convince him therefore, that in that future life, which he hoped and wifhed for, he could not promife himfelf an agreeable fate ; and for this purpcie his notions of the morality of actions were to be rectified firft. My readers will recollect that he believed human ( *9 ) human actions only fo far good or bad as they were attended with good or bad confequencs to fociety. Before I could attack this propofition, I thought proper to fhew how little, even accord- ing to this principle, he fhould be able to' account for his actions before God. I might at prefenr, faid I, leave your rule by which you judge of the morality of actions unmolefted. Your actions even then would not bear icrutiny. I was furprized when he anfwered : " I find now, that it is by far better and furer to derive the motives of our actions from God, and to confider him as obferving them." Saying this, he pointed at Jerusalem's book, and I thanked in my heart this excellent man that he had promoted my endeavours fo far. In the mean time, I begged of the Count to reflect how immoral his actions had been, even according to his former principle of morality. I had now difcovered that fide where the wounds of his confcience fmarted moft. He was not by far fo much grieved at thinking that he had offended God, and made himfelf miferable, as that he had ruined his friends with him. This fenfation of his I laid hold en, and endeavoured to fupport and to increafe it, I hoped his pain C 2 might ( 20 ) might by degrees become more univerfal, and extend itfelf over his other crimes. I had fcarcely began to touch him on this fide, when he burft into tears, and owned, that he found himfelf in this refpecl very culpable, and was ablblutely at a lofs to fay any thing in his defence. Suppofe then, continued I, you had to re- proach yourfelf only with being the caufe of all the misfortunes your friends now labour under, it mult even then be very difficult or rather im- poflible to account for it before God. " I acknowledge this," laid he, " and there- fore mail fay nothing to excufe myfelf before God, and I hope he will not demand this of me. I truft in my repentance and his mercy. Do not you think God will forgive me on account of this philofophical repentance ?" According to my notions of repentance, I can give you no hopes. I know but one way to receive God's pardon, and this is not a philo- fophical but a Chriftian repentance. I cannot yet produce the reafons why I am obliged to think fo-, but if you only reflect on God's mercy, in which you truft, you will find that it is this very mercy which makes it neceflary for kirn to be juft, and to ihew his averfion to moral evil. ( 21 ) evil. Such mercy as that of God, which cannot degenerate into weaknefs, muft no doubt be very terrible to him who has offended againft it. I entreat you not to put a blind and ill-founded confidence in it. — Perhaps I pronounced this with a vifible emotion of heart, for he inter- rupted me, faying, " Your humanity muft be very great, fince your patience is not tired." It certainly fhall not be tired, but I am uneafy and in pain about you. " You muft not be fo much concerned for me. , — What would you do if I was fo unhappy as to remain unconvinced?" It would grieve me unfpeakably. I mould wifh to conceive good hopes of you, but I fear without ha.(on. Pray do what lies in your power, God will blefs your endeavours. I hope you will even yet, upon good grounds, think yourfelf pardoned by God, and be able to die with comfort and a fair profpect into eternity Here he called out, with a deep-fetched figh : " May God grant it'.'* He added, " You wifh, and I believe from good reafons, that I might become a Chriftian." To be fure, (replied I) I wifh it very much ; but you know favours are not forced upon any body; and it is natural for you to look out for the C 3 greateft ( 22 ) greater!: that can be beflowed upon you. Learn to feel how dangerous your condition is, and your own wants and mifery will then compel you. to fearch for God's mercy, where it is only to be found. *' But pray," faid he, " how can chriftianity be the only way that is revealed by God for our everlafting happinefs, fince it is (o little known among mankind, and fince there are, even among chriinans themfelves, fo few that keep its pre- cepts ?" From your firft doubts, faid I, you mean tö draw the inference, that it was againft the good- nefs and jultice of God not to reveal to all men a doctrine which is the only one that can render man perfectly happy. But do you know whether God will not lave thofe who are ignorant of chriftianity by its difpenfations, if they behave as well as lies in their power ? And can a man, whom God has prelcnted with a bleffing, which he denied to others, think himfelf for this realbn intitled not to mind this blefiing or not to value 'it, becaufe God has not given it to all men? Has he not diftributed all the bleffings of his mercy unequally among men ; for inftance, ho- nour, riches, health, talents, and even the knowledge of natural religion ? You fee by this ( 23 ) this that your objection proves more than you intended. From your fecond doubt you will conclude, that, becaufe chriftianity is obierved by fo very few, therefore it cannot be a fufficient means to anfwer the purpofe, it is fa id, God intended it for, and confequently its origin cannot be a divine one. But I would wifn you to obferve, that it is a religion of free beings, and that they are under no controul in a matter which concerns their happinels. Befides, prejudices, errors and pafiions can' render the ftrongeft moral arguments ineffec- tual. However, it car. not be denied that man- kind, upon the whole, fince the eftablifhment of the chriftian religion, has been greatly reformed, and that its power over the human mind is ftronger than you feem to credit. " But even good chriftians," added he, cc often commit fins ! Shall, or can a man in this world be perfect ? and is the intention of chrifti- anity to produce effects, which, as to our prefent condition, are quite impoffible ?" There is a great difference between the fin of a true chriilian, of whom we fpeak only, and between the crimes of a wicked man. The former falls but he rifes again ; the latter con- tinues in his tranfgreffions and repeats them. C 4 And ( 24 ) And if there was but one chriftian only upon the whole earth, whofe life did honour to his profelfion, it would be a fufficient reafon for every one that knew him, to examine the religion of this only chriftian, and to adopt it when he found it was well-grounded. He faid : "Oh! I have fo many of thefe doubts, that it will be the mofl difficult thing to fatisfy them all." He uttered this with a mien that expreffed great concern, and I thought proper to comfort him by faying, that his doubts would leffen ac- cording as he got more acquainted with chrifti- anity. And if there mould be left an uncertainty about fome point or other, he might reft fatisfied with thinking that God would judge him, accord- ing to the time he had had, the condition he was in, and the fincerity he fhewed in his fearching after truth; chriftianity concerned more the heart than the underftanding, — I difcovered a hope that he foon would become a chriftian, which he feemed to be pleafed with, and when I exhorted him to pray to God to enlighten jus mind, he afked : " Whether a hearty wifii, addrefied to God, was not already prayer or adoration ?" I anfwered in the affirmative ; and after fome txhortations took my leave, and gave him the book of ( 25 ) of Reim am s on the principal dcffrincs of natural religion. '•The fourth Coiiference. March the eighth, T HAD now already great advantages in my ■*■ hands. The Count was fenfible of an ap- proaching eternity, and could not, nor would he any more oppofe the impreflions which the pro- fpect of it made upon him. He was concerned about his moral condition, but not enough yet -, at leaft, not on account of the difpleafure of God, which he was labouring under. He wifhed chriflianity might comfort him, but he thought it Hill an impoflibility to be fully convinced of its truth. I now endeavoured to make chrifli- anity neceffary to him, for reafons which were derived from the mifery and danger he was in. I intended to give him opportunity from time to tjme, to get acquainted with the arguments of the chriftian religion ; that in the fame meafure, as his defire increafed after its comforts, the difficulties which he expected to meet with, might decreafe. But, before I could make him truly fenfible of the danger which his immoral life had thrown him into, we had firft to agree about the reafons, which the morality of human actions is grounded upon, i Since ( 26 ) Since the Count now believed immortality, and in fome refpect, the morality of actions like- wife, I undertook to convince him that human actions are not good or bad, merely on account of their confequences in fociety, which hitherto had been his opinion. The reading of the feventh of Jerufalem's Meditations, which treats on the morality of hu- . man actions, had, as the Count himfelf owned, already removed many of his doubts, and taught him that true moral liberty did not coniift in de- termining onefelf according to the firfl" impref- fion a thing had made upon us, but that it is required to confider a matter properly, and not to chufe a thing before we are fufficiently ac- quainted with it. I fhewed him, how impoffible it was for man always to forefee and to regulate the confequences of his actions, on account of the infirmity and narrow bounds of our under- ftanding, and becaule we are io eafily blinded by our pafiions. As to this lsft reafon, the Count himfelf faid, " That palfiops would overpower us, even then, when we fee that the actions to which they ex- pite us can be detrimental to fociety. They would perfuade us, that the confequences they might be attended with are in our power ; that by pre- caution and acting fecretly, , we might avoid them. ( 2 7 ) them. They would fupply us with various ex- ] cufes, and incline us to think them to be true." He did not take it amifs, when I applied this to his own life. I afterwards proved, that the will of God is. the only rule by which the morality of actions is to be determined-, not becaufe God had ordered that this action or another mould be ablblutely ways again, notwithstanding I endeavour to re- move them, and will not let them gain ground." I fufpedted, and found afterwards but too jultly, that he was throwing out a hint about fome ftrange inward feelings, which fome chrifti- ans pretend to have, as indifputable fignsand con- fequences of their being pardoned before God. I therefore told him, that fuch inward feelings, if there ever were things of that kind, could not be looked upon as abfolutely neceffary, and as things which nuift inevitably follow. I knew many fincere chriftians that were without them *, and I myfelf, though confcious of being a chri- ftian, had never perceived them. He interrupted me, by faying : " I myfelf faw a pious man dying, who left this world in great anxiety." I continued, Good Count, that eafe of mind which I wifh you, when you are dying, and which it is poflible you may attain, does not con- fid in a vifible joy ; it is rather a certain tran- quillity of the foul, which arifes. from a convic- tion, that we have fulfilled all thofe conditions which God has laid down as the only ones for our receiving his pardon. " How tottering," fa id he, " has been my former fyftem, and how lure was I, nevertheless-., of ( 32 ) ©f its truth ! I was refolved, that if I ilionld die* I would adhere to my principles ; I would iup- pofe them to be indifpu table, and would let death approach without any further fcrutiny. And for this very reaibn, I had begged to be cxcufed from feeing any clergyman." You fee from this, good Count, replied I, what a difference there is between truth and er- ror. What you mentioned, were your fentiments about eight days ago. And now you read Jeru- falem's work with the greateft afliduity, though he contradicts your principles every where. " Oh !" faid he, " it is an incomparable book ; pray bring me the other volumes." How forry was I, that then only one volume was pub- limed. " Could you not," continued he, " give this book to be read by fome of my friends, who think of religion as I did, and were perhaps in- duced to it by my example and converfation ?" I promifed I would look out for fuch oppor- tunities. I now wanted to conduct him further into chriftianity, with whofe moral fide he was to be firft made acquainted ; for, as to the dogmati- cal part he knew already more of it, though he thought it impoflible to believe its myfteries. However, I was fure, that even here, he would become, ( 33 ) become a believer, if he was firft convinced of the excellency of the morals Chrift has preached, and if the myfteries of chriftianity were laid before him, as Scripture propofes them, feparated from human explications. To make him converfant with the precepts of the Gofpel, I thought it bell to let him read the hiflory of Chrift. I told him, I wilhed that he might learn from the moral character of Chrift, that he was a good and divine man, and one that deferves great credit. Per- haps it may prepoffefs you in his favour, when I tell you, that even Voltaire, inclined as he is to calumniate Chrift, does juftice to his moral cha- racter. " Does he ?" replied the Count. I will read to you, continued I, fome paffages from the Evangile du jour, which no doubt is a work of Voltaire. I added, that Roufieau was quite charmed with Chrift's morals, and his death. He remembered to have found fomething of this kind in his Emile. I might recommend to you, continued I, the New Teftament, to read the hiftory of Chrift •, but I chufe to decline this at prefent, fince it is difperfed through all the four Evangelifts, and fince many places are wrongly tranflated, and many more, on account of their reference to the manners of the times and people, and the fituation of places, might be obfcure to you j and fince you yourfelf, probably, have D abufed C 34 ) abufed fome Scripture expreflions, to ridicule and to make ajeft of them. " Yes," faid he, "you are in the right." I promifed therefore, to bring to him the hiftory of the three latter years of the life of Chrift, as it is properly compiled, regulated, explained, and told in a modern flile. Cramer * had defired me to give his compli- ments to the Count, and to tell him, that Count Bernftorf had forgiven him, and that he, in the latter days of his life, was very much concerned about the falvation of his foul. He afked : " Has Bernftorf lived to hear of my being arretted ?" Yes, faid I, he died about a fortnight ago. He burft out into tears again, and defired me to tell Cramer, that he wifhed to be worthy of his memory, and that he was obliged to him for his intelligence. I left him to-day Gellert's Lectures on Mora- lity f. He had almoft finimed Reimarus's book. During my abfence, he always employed the greateft part of his time in reading thofe books which I had brought him. * This eminent divine is now living at Lübeck. He was formerly chaplain at the court of Copenhagen. f Thefe LeBures on Morality, read in the univerfity of Leipfic, by the late Mr. Geliert, were tranflated laft year into French. See the Appendix to the 47th volume of the Monthly Review, page 503. ( f5 ) The fifth Conference. March the tenth, I FOUND the Count reading Gellert's Lec- tures on Morality, about whofe excellency he did not know how to exprefs himfelf properly. He faid : " Had I but a year ago read fuch books in retirement from diflipation, I mould have been quite another man. But I lived as in a dream. However, where are fuch chriftians as are here defcribed?" I told him that I believed Geliert himfelf to have been fuch a chriftian as is defcribed in the book, which was chiefly written, to fhew that perfection a chriftian was to ftrive for. I reminded him of our agreement, to examine more minutely his moral conduct, in order to convince him more of the greatnefs of his fins, and the neceffity of. his repentance. In a ferious exhortation, I begged of him to act now with all lincerity ; and the Count then began : " I know very well that I cannot apologize for my actions. But for this very realbn I with the exiftence of eternity, becaufe God, who knows exactly the complication of circumftances and the fituation I have been in, will determine more D 2 truly; ( 3« ) truly and juftly the morality or immorality of my actions, than men ever can do." I now delineated the outlines of his character as I had reafon to think it to be. God, faid I, has given you not a common underftanding, and, as I believe, a good natural difpofition of heart ; but through voluptuoufnefs, ambi- tion and inconfideratenefs, you have corrupted yourfelf. He confirmed my conjectures, and added : " That voluptuoufnefs Jiad been his chief pafiion, which had contributed moll to his moral depravity." We will begin, faid I, with this pafiion, and fee to what fins it has led you. After defcrib- ing how far it was extravagant, the Count owned with great emotion of heart, " His opinion had always been, that he lived for no other purpofe but to procure himfelf agreeable fenfations. He had reduced every thing to this point, and if now and then he had done fomething good, he had never confidered it as an obligation of charity or of obedience towards God, but as a mere means to promote his own pleafure. In his very youth, he blindly had abandoned himfelf to all forts of extravagancies. When he found the confequences of his irregular life, he endeavoured to ( 37 ) to reftore his health again by regularity and con- tinence, in order to enjoy pleafure the longer. Having recovered health again, he indulged himfelf in irregularities of voluptuoufnefs under a mild government ofreafon, and refrained himfelf from abandoned extravagancies, What humiliated him mofl, was, that he could not accufe any body that had feduced him, but that he muft confefs to have been his own feducer, by reading certain books, which he mentioned." The more minute examination of his life in regard to this chief paflion of his, I regulated according to certain queftions. During the whole enquiry, he did not leave off crying. It feemed as if he felt a kind of eafe, by intrufting me with the anxiety of his heart which he felt on account of this fperies of tranfgreffion. I will write the queftions down in the manner I propofed them to him, and add thofe of his anfwers, which are more than a fimple confefllon, and can contri- bute to clear up his former way of thinking, and ferve to increafe the abhorrence of the vice of lewdnefs. How much time has by your eager purfuit of pleafures been fquandered away, that might and (hould have been employed better? — He gave for anfwer, D 3 "I always ( 38 ) " I always impofed upon myfelf by thinking, 1 becaufe I could work very quick, and could difpatch the bufinefs of my different ftations in life in lefs time than many others, that therefore the reft of my time ought to be dedicated to my pleafures, and was in a manner gained. But I fee now too late, how much it was my duty to be officious in promoting good, according to that meafure of talents God has trufted me with." How many good actions are left undone ? and how infatiable have you been in your luft ? How much have you meditated to procure yourfelf new fenfual enjoyments ? " To be overloaded with pleafures, is attended with an inevitable emptinefs, and to fill up the vacancies makes us lludy variety of pleafures." How much did you neglect by this the im- proving and forming of your foul and heart ? Remember the years you have fpent at fchool and the univerfity ! " It kept me very backward, and not till late years did I begin to make myfelf acquainted with thofe things which I (hould have learnt at fchool. Being at the univerfity, I lived now and then for whole months together in diffipation and extra- vagancies, but then I kept to my fludies for a time again. Improving and forming my heart, I never ( 39 ) I never thought of before I was two or three and twenty years of age. Since that time I collected by degrees thofe principles of morality I informed you of." How neglectful has your lull made you to- wards God, yourfelf, and other men, even in thofe duties which your particular ftatton in life required of you ? " I turned my thoughts very little towards God, and did not believe that I owed him any thing more, than a general gratitude for my ex- iftence. I might perhaps have often neglected the particular duties of my refpective ftations in life, for the fake of enjoying pieafures, but at other times I have as phyfician taken great pains about my patients." Very likely you have, by the perpetual enjoy- ment of fenfual pieafures, heated your fancy, and filled it with foul images, which perhaps difturb you ftill, and hinder your ferious reflexi- ons. In what a giddinefs of lull have you lived, or rather not lived, but only dreamt ? " When I now recollect, I find that my life has been but a dream. I remember to have done but little good, by which I might know that I really have lived." D 4 How ( 40 ) How much has your luft degraded your dig T nity zs a man, and ranked you among irrational creatures, whofe pleafures confift only in that which is fenfual ? " I thought myfelf no more than an animal, and believed there was no difference of fpecies, but only of fome degree of perfection between man and beaft." Has not your character fuffered very much by this ? " I always thought I need not to care what the world faid. I therefore endeavoured to pleafe but a few. But now I find how valuable a name is which is obtained by virtue." How indifferent has this made you towards moral pleafures, which are the mod effectual fprings to promote virtue, and are an erTential part of real happinefs ? " In my younger years I was quite indifferent towards goodfentiments and actions. Afterwards, though I was perhaps pleafed when I had done fomething which I thought to be good, yet I never made any diftinction between this nobler joy, and the gratification of my luftful defires." How many has your voluptuoufnefs ruined !— - Your example, and the propagating of your prin- ( 4i ) principles, has feduced young men to profligacy. Many of them have loft their characters, ruined their conftitution, and even met death in their purfuit of luilful pleafures. Perhaps deftitute wir dovvs and orphan children, whofe hufbands and fathers were killed by profligacy which you taught them, are now crying to the all-knowing God againft the author of their misfortunes ! £}e acknowledged, in a very repenting man- ner, he might be guilty of all thefe crimes. His expreflions, his countenance, and his whole atti- tude feemed to beg of me not to go on any fur- ther. I continued : Might you not have been the feducer of inno- cent young women, and might you not, on fuch occafions, have wilfully facrificed to your volup- tuoufnefs, religion, honour, and virtue? Might you not have ruined them in this world, by hin- dering their being married, and throwing them into contempt and poverty? " I cannot deny that I have been a dangerous feducer. I often have deceived innocence by my principles. Even women of good fenfe I have conquered ; and more than this, I have made them afterwards eafy again about their tranfgrefiions. None among thofe that I attacked was at laft able to refift me, if fhe did not avoid me ( 42 ) me prefently. I was never at a lofs how to con- quer ; though I mult fay, I never promifed any thing which I did not intend to perform. . Not- withftanding I did all that laid in my power to keep thole, who through my fault had been tem- porally ruined, from mifery and poverty, I am, neverthelefs, now convinced that this by no means can excufe me." Perhaps there are children that do not know you to be their father, who for want of education will become a burden to fociety, and are in dan- ger of being ruined in this and the future world. Here he defired me to take upon me the care and education of a child, two years old, becaufe it was his. I fcarcely had made enquiry, when I heard it was dead. L mention this as a proof of his fince- rity. I continued : And matrimonial ties, which according to the unanimous opinion of all nations ihould be fa- cred, I fuppofe you have broken. What an irreparable injury is hereby done to both parties ! —and how much mull this injustice have afflict- ed the injured party ? Remorfe of confeience on the fide of the feduced perfons was or will be the confequence thereof. Wherewith will .you excufe yourfelf, if grief or defpondency Ihould be hurt- 4 fill ( 43 ) ful to the health or the life of the injured ? Is not matrimonial happinefs and domeftic peace fre- quently difturbed by thefe your tranfgreflions ? «« The injured party, faid he, had often never known of it, and in fome inftances he had rather promoted domeftic peace by good advice, which he had given to the female criminal. He owned that he thought thefe excufes formerly fufficient, but he did not mention them now with the fame intent." Perhaps, faid I, honeft fathers are obliged to maintain children, which they are convinced are not their own. Of what confufions, enmities, and law-fuits may this be productive, even after your death, in families that might have remained happy, if you had left them undifturbed ? Have you never ufed unnatural means to fatisfy your voluptuous pafiions, or to prevent their difegree- able and unexpected confequences ? He faid: " In his younger years he had indulged him- felf in every thing his paffion had driven him to, but as to the latter part of the queftion, he knew himfelf to be innocent." — And this was the only accufation of our to-day's fcrutiny, to which he pleaded not guilty. Now, continued I, what mifery have all thefe extravagancies thrown you into? Forget for a little C 44 ) little while that you have offended God extremely, by creating fo much mifchief in the world. Re- flect rather on this queftion only, How has my luftful paffion rewarded me, after having ferved it fp faithfully ? You are rewarded with tranfitory, (difguftful joys, which never have fatisfied your defires ; with difiain, contempt, and reproaches of all fober people that knew of your wicked life ; with imprifonment and fetters, with a, premature and ignominious death.— — Pray now, confider ferioufly, fuppofe I and every bo !y were to live in this manner, what would become of human fociety? — He anfwered, " I foolifhly perfuaded myfelf, that it was confident with fociety. The great ones in Eng- land and France, faid I to myfelf, lead fuch un- reftrained life." But, faid I, does this unreftrained way of life of the great in England and France contribute towards the happinefs of either nation? And can it be believed that they, in doing fo, are more happy than people of the middle fort, that lead a life which is more ftricl: and more folid ? And laftly, are thefe great ones the whole fociety, or are they not the fmalleft part of it, and if numbers are to ^e confidered, the moft inconfiderable part ? Durjn» ( 45 ) During the whole time of this converfation, the Count was very much moved, and ready to cry. I faw how affecting and humiliating the fcene of his paft life was to him. " How is it pofilble, faid he, that I could ever be fo convinced of my former principles, and could ever forget myfelf fo far !" I recommended to him to fearch the whole courie of his former life more minutely, and left him for this purpofe further written inftructions. I gave him likewife the two firft parts of the three laft years of the life of Chrift. The Count then faid : " That he valued the morals of chriftianity very much, and thought them truly divine ; but he was afraid the myfteries of religion might pre- vent his being fully perfuaded of its truth, though he promifed to ipare no pains to get convinced." Upon this I told him, that the grace of God would afliit his endeavours, and that his doubts would ceafe in time. He then flarted three ob- jections : the firft, why the immortality of the foul was not taught in the writings of Mofes ? the fecond, how Chrift could be the Son of God? and thirdly, how three perfons could be in one Deity ? To the firft I replied, that if it was agreed that ( 4$ ) that in the writings of Mofes no mention was made of the immortality of the foul, it did neverthe- lefs by no means follow, that this doctrine was unknown to the Jews, or that the truth of it was lefs certain. And as for his fecond and third ob- jections, I told him, that fince their refutation' is grounded upon right explanations of fcripturepaf- fages, for which he was not yet prepared, I could only tell him this beforehand, that the words wherein thefe myfleries are revealed, muft be cautiou fly explained, fincethey were more adapted to inform men of the exiftence of what is above their conception, than to exprefs fully the nature ©f the myftery. Thefxth Conference. March the twelfth. Now conducted the Count to the fecond great fource of his tranfgrefllon, which, I thought, was his ambition. You had, faid I, too great an opinion of your underftanding, and of the goodnefs of your intentions, which at the bottom were but means to fatisfy your chief paflion. He replied : " He had been fo weak, as to let himfelf be perfuaded by a perfon that made too much of him, that his underftanding was fo great, that he could ( 47 ) could do every thing which was in the power of man. Helvetius, whom he had read much,, had likewife induced him to believe this. For he fays, that fince the organifation of every man was the fame, confequently every one was ca- pable of doing the fame thing another man could do. He had thought himfelf convinced of the goodnefs of his intentions, though he muft own he had purfued principles which ought to be re- jected, and that always the chief end he had in view was his pleafure." 1 then put him in mind how many people he had made unhappy through his ambition •, how unjuft and hard he had been to fatisfy this paJTion ; how obftinately he oppofed thofe that underftood the affairs of ftate better than himfe'f, even then when he knew he was in the wrong. What dan- gerous and violent means he had ufed to keep himfelf in his dignity, and to what danger he had expofed the fubjects of the King, particularly the inhabitants of the metropolis. To this he re- plied, " It was true, that he for his own fafety had made regulations which he had not thought to be dangerous, fince he knew instances wherein even the fight only of inch preparations had prevented and quelled dilturbances. But now, when he confi- ( 48 ) confidered matters more coolly, he faw very well that he might have been the author of great mif- chief." I defired him to confider, whether he had not made too free with the revenues of the ftate ? — At how great an expence he had lived at laft ? T-What an unconftitutional power he had arro- gated to himfelf? &c. The two chief paflions of the Count, volup- tuoufnefs and ambition, being accompanied with great inconfideratenefs, I reminded him of his inconfiderate treatment of religion, and how he had made a jeft of the moft ferious things in the world, and ftudied perhaps to communicate his opinions to others. To which he gave for anfwer : urg % March the 4th, 1 77 2« C 62 ) When I told che Count that I had a letter frcrri his father to him, he took it with a kind of eagernefs, anc4 began to read. But he had not half fin i(hed it, when he laid it down, weep- ing bitterly. Looking; then at me with an air of confidence, he faid, " It is impoflible for me to read any further 5 I will begin again by and by.'* My anfwer was, Read it by yourfelf, and read , it often. It is a letter cf an honeft, afflicted, and tender parent. Endeavour to com- fort your virtuous father and your pious mother* by a chriftian-Iike anfwer. You know very well what alone can comfort them. " Oh ! my God," faid he* in a manner which cannot be exprefTed, " I cannot write to them, I do not know how I mail act !" You will have time, replied I, to confider about this. — He afterwards praifed his father for being an honeft man, whofe actions agreed with his fentiments, and his mother for being a matron, that deferved reverence and was really pious. He faid, fne had given him the beft opportunity to learn by her own example, practi- cal chriitianity. He begged of me, " To write foon to his parents, to tell them the whole truth how I found him, and to allure them that h£ would do his beft, and had the beft intention, ta die ( 6 3 7 die like a chriftian." — He was fo neceffary he himfelf had now found thefe things ^ to be, and how unhappy they had made him* N He had intreated him to read Geliert often, all men mould honour the Son, even as they honour the Father." St. Paul treats likewife, Heb. i. of the divinity of Chrift. He calls him the " Son of God, by whom the worlds are made; The brightnefs of God's glory, and the exprefs image of his perfon." He applies an expreffion of Pfal. xlv. 7. where God is addrefTed, to Chrift, and calls him abfolutely God. When I had read and explained to the Count, the two paffages of John v. and Heb. i, he laid : " It is undeniable, that it was the intention of Jefus and of Paul to tell the Jews that the Son is God." Having more fully propofed and proved this dodtrine of Chrift's Divinity, the Count, at the conclufion of the whole, faid: " I cannot defcribe to you, how much my reafon is fatisfied on account of thefe myfteries of religion. The more we think upon them. the ( us ) the more of divine wifdom we difcover in them. We mult only avoid afking every where: "Why ? We muft reft fatisfied with the autho- rity of their author. Even in human fciences this modefty is requifite : elfe we never mould come to any certainty. Moll: common things may employ our refearches for all our life time, before we difcover the firit caufe. Every why ? would draw innumerable queflions of the fame nature after it, though our reafon is not calculated to go in infinitum" The Count had now finimed the hiftory of ChrilVs fufferings, and had found the miracles that happened at the death of Chrift very re- markable. He afked : " If any other hiftorians, befides the Evan- gelifts, made any mention of them ?" He was told that Phlegon, Tertullian and Lucian, made mention of this famous eclipfe. Upon this the Count faid : " He had fpoken yefterday with fomebody, who would not allow thefe events to be real miracles, becaufe they could be fully accounted for by mere natural caufes ; but that he had told him, it was neverthelefs remarkable, I 2 that ( n6 ) that thefe events fhould have happened at the time when Chrift died, and even at the hour of his death. It feemed as if God, even by this very circumftance, would raife people's attention to the death of Jefus." I told him, he might have added, that this eclipfe happened on the day before Eafter, when, at the time of the full moon, this event could not take place in the natural way. The father of the Count had defired me in a letter, which I had lately received, to afilire his fon of the continuation of his love and inter- ceflion before God. I communicated to him the letter. He would fain have anfwered fome- thing, but his grief of heart prevented it. When I left him half an hour after: " He begged me with tears in his eyes, to write to his parents, and to tell them that he certainly hoped to afford them the only comfort they wifhed for, which was, to find them again before the throne of God, amongft thofe that have received mercy." 3 ( ii7 ) The twentieth Conference. April the 3*/. '"T^HE chief fubject of this Conference was -*■ the doctrine of the Trinity, as it is taught in the chriftian church. This doctrine being ftated to him in the moft fimple manner, he faid: " It appeared to him fo as to excite his vene- ration. But as he was now a convinced chri- ftian, as to the theoretical parts of (Thrift's re- ligion, he wifhed only to be the fame, as to the practical parts of it." I gave him joy of having now adopted the religion of Jefus with all his heart. If you now lofe your life, you will find infinite compenfation in eternity. — He anfwered : " Certainly I mail lofe nothing. The lofs would have been irreparable, if I had re- mained in my former fituation. For in all pro- bability I mould never have become a chriftian. But I know now for certain, that if it was pof- fible for me to live any longer in this world, I fhould never quit religion again. I have been I 3 often- ( ii8 ) oftentimes obftinate in my opinions, and here I mould be To for good reafons." He being told in what manner he might fhew and convince himfelf of being a practical chri- ftian ; he faid : " I am ready to do any thing demanded in this refpect. It gives me pleafure to find myfelf willing for this. I look upon it as a gcod fign. Formerly I mould not have been fo. I would not have facrirkcd my vicious- : nclinations. I fhall confider in what manner I may give you and myfelf convincing proofs of the fincerity of my preient fentiments. You frequently have dropt a hint, as if you thought I had flill too great an opinion of my administration of public affairs. I have taken my own time to go into the detail of it •, I have fearched the very fprings, and I will not conceal before you the remit of my enquiries. Believe me then, that I had no intention of doing mifchief. Volup- tuoufnefs and vanity were the fprings of all that I did. The great opinion I had of my abilities, and which was fupported by others, made me refolve, at my firft coming into Denmark, to act a great part. I cannot fay I ever imagined it would be iuch as I have Cince acted. But you ( ii9 ) you know, opportunities and circumftances lead us fometimes farther than we thought of in the beginning. One ftep follows the other. Even from this you may conclude, that I abfolutely muft find the whole chain of my enterprizes reproachful before God and my own confcience. — But at the fame time, I am confcious, that 1 was no enemy to what the great world called virtue and honefty. I do not tell you this in my own praife. I know this is not owing to my endeavours, but rather a confequence of my natural way of thinking, and every man has a certain general love of virtue. That I miffed my intention, was my own fault. I was look- ing out for what is good, but I did not find it, for I took not reafon and religion, but paflion for my guide." He had now finifhed Spalding's book on the value of the inward feelings of chriftianity. He returned me thanks for having it given to him, and added: " My ideas of that reformation in man, which is to be brought about by converfion, are greatly rectified by this book. I own with joy, I find chriftianity more amiable the more I get acquainted with it. I never knew it before. I 4 I be- ( 120 ) I believed it contradicted reafon and the nature of man, whofe religion it was defigned to be. I thought it an artfully contrived and ambiguous doctrine, full of incomprehenfibilities. When- ever I formerly thought on religion in fome furious moments, I had always an idea in my mind how it ought to be, which was, it mould be fimple and accommodated to the abilities of men in every condition. I now find chriftianity to be exactly fo ; it anfwers entirely that idea which I had formed of true religion. Had I but formerly known it was fuch, I mould not have delayed turning chriftian till this time of my imprifonment. But I had the misfortune to be prejudiced againft religion, firft through my own paffions, but afterwards likewife through fo many human inventions, foifted into it, of which I could fee plainly that they had no foun- dation, though they were filled efiential parts of chriftianity. I was offended when God was always reprefented to me as an angry jealous Judge, who is much pleafed when he has an opportunity of mewing his revenge, though I knew he was love itfelf \ and am now convinced, that though he mud punifh, yet he takes no kind of delight in it, and is rather for pardoning. From my infancy, I have known but few chriftians that had not fcanda- lized ( 121 ) lized me by their enthufiafm, and wickednefs, which they wanted to hide under the cloak of piety. I knew indeed that not all christians were fuch, or talked fuch an affected language ; but I was too volatile to enquire of better chriilians after the true fpirit of religion. Frequently I heard fermons in my youth, but they made no impreffion upon me. That with- out Chrift there was no falvation, was the only truth which ferved for a fubject in all fermons, and this was repeated over and over again in fynonimous exprefiions. But it was never fet in its true light, and never properly proved. I faw people cry at church, but after their tears were dried up, I found them in their actions not in the leaft better, but rather allowing them- felves in every tranfgreflion, upon the pri- vilege of being faithful believers. Laftly, I could not comprehend thofe inward feelings which many chriftians pretend to have. It ap- peared to me unnatural and miraculous. Never- thelefs, it has made me uneafy during our ac- quaintance, that I have found nothing of thefe inward feelings: and I believe you have ob- served my uneafinefs. I found my real forrow for my fins not adequate to thofe exprefiions, which I had heard frequently in my youth, and which had terrified me fo much. I endeavour- ed ( 122 ) cd to heighten my grief to fuch a degree : but I faw on the other fide, that this forcing myfelf, by means of imagination, was not that grief I ibught for, or what might have pleafed God. Spalding's book has fatisfied me on this account. I am now fure that the chief point is a con- fidence in God through (Thrift, and a true reformation of mind from what is bad to what is good. 1 myfelf can find out and be fenfible, whether I have this confidence, and I myfelf am able to judge, whether fuch a reformation has taken place within my mind. Tfie twenty-firß Conference. April the \th % T Repeated to the Count all we had done *■" together hitherto, and furveyed with him afrefh the whole way that brought him to where he now was. After which he faid : " That his prefent eafe of mind was quite a different thing, from what he believed he had formerly. Now he found himfelf really compofed, whereas he formerly only forced himfelf to appear to ( 123 ) to be fo. Perhaps he might have been able to die with an outfide appearance of firmnefs, but he believed he fhould have found himfelf quite different, from what he hoped to find now in the hour of death." The formal impeachment of the Count was to come on in a few days, and he was fummoned to appear in perfon to hear it, and to produce what he might have to fay in his defence. This he told me, and afked my advice, whether he fhould let his affairs have their own way, or, whether he mould make the belt de- fence he could ? I told him, chrifhianity never forbad him to ufe all lawful means to fave himfelf. " Among the crimes," faid he, " that will be laid to my charge, there is one incapable of any apology or mitigation. I fee therefore that the probability of faving my life is by far inferior to that of fuffering death. And befides, I fee nothing pleafing before me, even if I mould fave my life. Imprifonment for life would be unfupportable to me. However, I cannot de n y that 2 ( 124 ) that I fhiver when I think on the hour of death under fuch circumftances ! Confider, if you pleafe, what you would advife me to." I do not fee any hopes for you, faid I. Go- vernment has ordered you a council. He knows the laws better than I do, and therefore can tell you beft what you have to hope, and what not. Your judges are confcientious men, and well verfed in the law. " I am convinced of that, faid he -, they treated me like honeft people." Being advifed not to flatter himfclf with vain hopes of faving his life, he gave me his hand, and promifed that he would guard againft it. " I believe, faid he, God will not be difpleafed, that I feel the inftincl: of preferring my life, which he himfelf has implanted. I hope, at the fame time, that if I am to die, even then I fhall be fupported by a profpect (at leaft) of not being worfe ofFin eternity than I am now. — And do you think I fhould do wrong, if I, at my approaching painful and ignominious death, call to my affift- ance all the natural and even acquired fortitude which I am pofleffed of ?" I told ( 125 ) I told him it would not be wrong if he did, but without any views of vanity. I hoped, how- ever, religion would afford a much better and a much furer comfort, and prove a fupport ade- quate to his fufferings. He read at prefent the Epiflles of Paul to the Corinthians ; and faid, he obferved in St. Paul a great genius, much wifdom, and true philofo- phy. He was particularly pleafed with his de- cifion of the difputed queftion : Whether it was right to eat what was facrificed to the idols ? He faid, it did honour to his prudence. I now gave him Spalding's fermons to read, which he took with great readinefs, being very partial to the author. The twenty -fecond Conference. April the 6th. 'nr^ O fhew the Count how far his reformation A and his intentions of doing good were fin- cere, and how far his hopes of having received God's mercy were well grounded, I laid the following queftions for felf-examination before him, and took his anfwers down in writing, that I might confider them by myfelf when alone, and tell him afterwards my opinion how far I found them agreeing with the fenfe of the Gofpel. The C 126 ) The following are the principal queftions and his anfwers. Are you heartily forry that you have offended God by thofe voluptuous thoughts and actions of which you find yourfelf guilty ? " I look upon it as one of my greateft crimes, and know that it has led me further and further from that truth which I might have found in the knowledge of religion, and I confider it as the principal fource of all my crimes and vices." Do you think on thefe tranfgreflions with de- teftation, which gave you, according to your former fentiments, the greateft pleafure r* " I think not only with indifference on all thofe fenfual pleafures, but even I hate them, fince I find how oppofite and detrimental they are to real happinefs." Do you believe, that if you had for the future any more opportunities to commit thefe fins, you would avoid them out of obedience to God ? " I am fure I mould not be able to avoid them for any other reafon. Therefore, fince I begin to tafte the happinefs of virtue, and am fure that I cannot acquire it but by a true fear of God ( "7 ) v^ d and the defire of acting according to his will, I am determined never to lofe fight of this. I fhall endeavour to rectify all my principles and actions by the efficacious affiftance of tfrefe means, which I am become acquainted with through the knowledge of God and his revelation." 's v Are you truly forry becaufe you have offended God by leading on to immorality, and by making unhappy, through your inclination for fenfual pleafures, not only certain particular perfons,. but other people likewife ? " I am extremely forry that I have rendered unhappy fome perfons by my principles, inconfi- deratenefs, and inclination for fenfual pleafures r not only by hindering their temporal welfare, but likewife by corrupting their moral character. Ac the fame time I repent very much that I have fee fo bad an example, and thereby fpoiled the good morals of others. I reproach myfelf on account of thofe perfons whom I have actually feduced."' Do you deteft thofe tranfgreflions to which your ambition has inftigated you? the falfe principles upon which you founded your ambi- tion, and the unlawful means you have ufed to fatisfy it? « The ( 1*8 ) u The firft moral principles, according to which I acted, were againft God's precepts, and were founded upon a lyftem of honour which I myfelf had formed, and where the principal view was always to gratify my own defires and felf-in- tereflednefs. According to my prefent conviction, I cannot but think the whole chain of my actions in regard to honour reproachful, even then when I might juftify or excufe them before the world/' Are you forry that the happinefs of fo many people, befides that of your friends, who fuffer with you now, has been made, a facrifice to your ambition, during the time of your exalted flation ? " I own I cannot excufe before God my having thought too flightly of other people's happinefs. I abufed the maxim that a fingle member of fo- ciety might fuffer for the benefit cf the whole. God has recommended to us the love of our neighbour as the chief of virtues, which requires that every one mall promote the temporal welfare of fingle perfons as much as lies in his power, at leait {hall he not deftroy it. All my political reafons, which then determined me to act fo, will not excufe me or quiet my confcience. And as for the misfortunes of my friends, I feel them ( 129 ) them fo much the more, fince my natural tender- hefs on this point difpofes me already for it." Do you repent of that prefumption with which you placed yourfelf at the helm of adminiftra- tion, gave laws, and trifled with the happinefs of the nation ? " I find myfclf guilty cf this in my confcience. If even I could derive fome excufes from the circumftances I was in, and which drew me in further than I thought in the beginning •, I am neverthelefs always to be blamed, for not making a ftronger oppofition, and not taking my mo- tives for doing it from religion, where I might have found them." Are you fully determined to profefs chrifti- anity until your end, and will you ever act ac- cording to its precepts ? " I now glory as much in chriflianity and in acknowledging my former errors, as I then did in treating it with contempt. My refolution, which is founded upon conviction, gives me the fureft hope that I, in all circumftances, ihall keep to it, and obferve its precepts until my end." Are you confcious that you bear no hatred againft thofe whom you think your enemies, nor K againft ( 130 ) againft thofe who have promoted your prefent misfortunes ? " Since my temper is not revengeful, I am lefs inclined to hatred, and I truft that thofe per- fons who are the caufe of my misfortunes, have been acting from conviction, and with an intent to promote the intereft of the king and the king- dom. And if even fome people mould have acted from perfonal enmity, I forgive it very readily." Are you confcions that you fpoke the truth before your judges, and in your converfation with me ? Do you likewife propofe to fpeak truth in what you fhall fay to your counfel, in your defence ? " I do not remember to have fpoken before my judges one untruth wilfully, unle/s, perhaps, for want of memory, fome miftake has happened. Still lefs do I know of any thing untrue which I might have fpoken to you. I intend likewife not to fay any thing in my defence, that mould not agree with truth." Do you find a true defire to be pardoned by God, through the merits of Chrift, and do you truft in God that he will not refufe it ? " I have ( Hi ) " I have no other hopes but what are founded in God's pardon, and I am convinced, that there are no other means for me to obtain it but the me- rits of Chrift. I ftrive to qualify myfelf for this through fincere faith in my Redeemer, and by making my thoughts and fentiments conformable to his will I pray to God to ftrengthen me in this refpe<5t, fince 1 find within myfelf nothing but incapacity and weaknefs." Do you look upon this pardon of God as the greater!: favour that can be conferred upon you ; greater than even the faving of your temporal life ? " The faving of my life and all other tempo- ral emoluments appear to me but very fmall in comparifon of everlafting happinefs, which my inward feeling has made me experience already." Do you acknowledge yourfelf obliged, on ac- count of this pardon, to love God and your Re- deemer fincerely, and will you ftrive to increafe this love ? " The more I grow convinced, the more im- preflion the mercy of God and of my Redeemer makes upon me, and increafes my love and gra- titude towards him." K 2 Are ( 132 ) Are you determined to fhew this love towards God, by a ready obedience to his will, as long as you fhall have time for it ? " Since I hope to be more and more convinced of the love of God towards me, and fince I ac- knowledge that what he has decreed relating to me, is in all refpecls, particularly in regard to my foul, the moft advantageous, I am fure that I mail fubmit to all his will, without murmuring and without reluctance." Suppofe your death mould within a few days, by the interpofition of God's government, be- come unavoidable, would you fufFer it humbly and confiding in God, terrifying as the circum- stances may be which (hall attend it ? i " As much as lies in my power, fupported by that confidence which I place in God, I (hall die with a chriflianlike refolution. Are you refolved to derive all your comfort only from religion, and not to call in for afiift- ance a fecret ambition, or an affected fortitude ? " I have refigned every thing which may be called ambition, and have been obliged to do it ; I am therefore fure that in the laft moments of • my life I fhall not be difturbed by this pafTion. I rather C 133 ) I rather mail derive all my comforts from reli- gion. Even my former ambition would not have led me to affectation. Without religion I fhould have died as to my outward appearance juft as I felt myfelf inwardly. Properly fpeaking, I have been obftinate only in defending my opi- nions, and in this refpect I might, perhaps, too often have been guilty of affectation." The Count affured me, on the clofe of this examination, that he in all refpects had told me exactly the fentiments of his heart. — When I was going to leave him, he begged I would flay a little longer, fince he had fomething to commu- nicate to me. " I have been confidering, faid he, about what I afked your advice the other day. I fee plainly my life cannot be faved ; I am likewife eafy about it, and I hope the wifh to live longer will difturb me no more, though I do not know how I fhall be affected when I am very near death. If the awful moment was but once paft, I then fhall have loft nothing. If, when I am going to fuffer death, I am but capable of thinking, I am fure to find compofure and comfort in religion." And if you mould not be able to remember, faid I, I mail put you in mind of it, though I do not know how much I myfelf mail be affected. K 3 "I wifk ( i34 ) u I wiili only you may not be too much af r fected, faid he, for this would add to my fuf- ferings." I fhall do as much as I can to moderate my tender feelings, and I believe to be able to do this, if I can have hopes that you die a chriftian. " I have been, faid he, very uneafy about another thing. You know my chief crime. You know that by confefling it, other per^ fons to whom I lie under great obligations, are rendered likewife unhappy. I have been thinking whether it had not been my duty, on their account, not to have confefTed, fince grati- tude and friendfhip feemed to demand it. I have been very uneafy about it. But I took to prayers, as now my conftant practice is, when I am under anxiety, and confidered this whole mat- ter on all fides, directing my heart perpetu- ally towards God. I found that my denying would hinder truth from appearing, and from making its way as it ought. I faw that it would be ftill worfe to cover one crime with another, which would fill me with anxiety of confcience, and make me incapable of receiving God's par- don. And certainly the requeft would be unjuft, that for the fake of laving others I mould facri- fice my everlafting falvation. I found, laftly, ( 135 ) that if I had denied every thing hitherto, I now mould have difcovered it to you, anddefired you to acquaint my judges with it. By reafoning in this manner, I have been fo fortunate as to quiet my mind. I do not care now if people, who have no notion what it is to be anxious about everlafting falvation, mould think me to be both a faithlefs man and a traitor. My confeflion muft be approved of by all true and rational chriflians. However, the misfortune that has befallen my friends on account of my confeflion, grjeves me more than I am able to exprefs : I can pay them no other damages, but by praying to God to give them the comfort of religion and virtue. This is what I continually am praying for ; and if thefe prayers are granted, I am fure their lofs is fufficiently repaid," The twenty-third Conference, April the jth. / ~T" V H E Count being told that his anfwers to •** the queftions propofed to him yefterday were fuch as proved, that he hitherto had ful- filled thofe conditions, under which God had promifed to grant his pardon, he faid : " I thank God that my peace of mind is like- wife a proof of my being not rejected by God. J cannot but perfuade rm jf If th&t although now K 4 in ( ^ ) in my fetters, and near a difgraceful death, I am by far more happy than I was in my former grandeur." o When I had convinced him from Scripture pafifages, that my judgment was well grounded, and had comforted him by telling him, that the more he got acquainted with the advantages of his converfion, the more his faith would increafe, and fupply him with infinite comfort againft death, he faid : " Yes, I hope to experience that my death is but one difficult fiep, and every thing I lofe by it lliall infinitely be repaid to me." Some exhortation being given, he faid : " That every night he examined himfelf whether he had done or thought any thing that might difpleafe God ; if fo, he prayed for forgivenefs for (Thrift's fake, and repeated all his good pur- pofes, together with their motives. I believe likewife, laid he, that I can pray now with more chearfulnefs. Hitherto I found myfelf always unworthy, but I have ventured to pray, truftihg to God's mercy." Being advifed to thank God for all the grace he had ihewn him during the time of his conver-r fion, he aniwered ; ff I remember C 137 ) " I remember with gratitude thofe powerful impreflions made upon me by perufing many of the pafTages in thofe books I have been reading ; in particular when I was reading the Life of Chrift. I own my inclination to look out for truth and to embrace it, has increafed thereby from time to time." Juft when I was leaving the Count, he faid : " I am come now to a refolution how I lhall act in regard to my defence. I fee neither my life can be faved, nor my actions be juftifled, never- thelefs, I hope to be able to fhew, that fome are not quite fo bad as they appear to be ; for you know, to confider our actions in a moral light be- fore God, and in a political one before the world, are two different things. I know how bad mine appear in the former ; but it does not follow that a thing mould be equally as bad when confidered in a political light, as it may be in a moral one. I fhall reft fatisfied to (hew (for more I cannot do) that my political miftakes were the confequences of error, precipitation and pafiiön, but not of a defign to do mifchief. I think I owe this to truth, and even religion itfelf, as far as my con- verfion may either promote or hinder its intereft. If, by keeping filence, I had allowed that I had J?ad intentions (though I do not recollect any myfelf), C 138 ) myfelf), it perhaps then could eafily have hap- pened, that my con verfion would have been looked upon as weaknefs and confufion of mind, notwith- ftanding it is the produce of a ferious and rational difquifition. The world might elfe have faid, that a man could eafily facrifice his former prin- ciples of religion, when it was a matter of indif- ference to him, whether he was thought to be a profefTed rogue, or only a man who had tranf- grefTed from error in judgment." 'The twenty-fourth Conference. April the qth, AFTER reciting the happy confequences of •*■"* his converfion, I afked the Count if any one of thofe days of his former grandeur and tem- poral profperity had ever procured him that true tranquillity of mind which he now enjoyed in his prifon and in his fetters ? " You are in the right, anfwered the Count ; and if nothing elfe had made me unhappy, the infatiatyenefs of my pafiions would have done it, for the moft frequent enjoyments could. not fa- tisfy them." He fpoke likewife very fenfibly about his ap- proaching death. " He declared that death it- felf (the terrifying circumitances which his might ' 3 * ( '39 ) be attended with excepted) prefented nothing dreadful to him, fince he knew where it was to conduct him." He declared: " It fhopld not make him uneafy, if there was even any truth in the opinion of thofe who af- ferted, that the foul, when feparated from the body, Ihould be in a ftate of obfcure ideas and fenfations, or in a kind of deep. For if my foul was not confcious of itfelf, or was only in a place of fecurity and eafe, I Ihould lofe no- thing by it. Should this fleep laft even athou- fand or ten thoufand years, it would not make me unhappy, for during all this time, I fhould not know of any thing. However, it is by far more agreeable to me to learn from Scripture, that my foul, inflantly after parting from the body, fhall enter, confcious of itfelf, into pof- fefiion of its happinefs." Towards the clofe of this converfation, he faid : " Though Scripture tells us but little about the (late the foul mail be in during its feparation from the body, yet even this little is matter of great comfort. If God had found it ufeful and neceftary to give us further informa- tion, he would have done it. It is fully fuf- ficient to quiet my foul, when I know it will be in the hand of God.— From this you may judge how ( I40 ) how much it muft vex me, if now and then this thought returns : l perhaps there is no eternity V I examined myfelf to-day very flri ) " The chriftian religion," faid he on another occafion, " is fo engaging, that it certainly mult pieafe every one who is properly acquainted with it. We fhould fee the bell effects of it among the common people, in reforming the world, if it was properly reprefented, and made intelligible to the capacity of different forts of peo- ple. They fhould be made fenfible, that in this life they could never be happier than by following the precepts of chriftianity. Every one then would be convinced, that, fuppofing even this religion to be a delufion, it mult be fuch an one as contradicts entirely the nature of error and delufion, becaufe it is the belt and trueft way to happinefs. Every one would think it worth his while to maintain this error and to propagate it." — He continued, " I wifh you and other divines would write fmall pamphlets, to acquaint the people with the advantages of chriftianity, _which might be of greater fervice than preach- in^. — In this manner Voltaire has written, as you know, innumerable little pieces againft re- ligion, which contain always the fame over again under different titles, and in a different drefs. Rational friends of chriftianity mould learn of him this method, by which he does much mif- chief, and apply it to better purpofes. Voltaire boafts C 151 ) boafts of having found out this method, as he fays, to enlighten the world. I remember that when I converfed with D'Alembert at Paris, in my travels, that he f oke much in praife of this method, and admired Voltaire's wifdom in this point. However, I do not believe him to be the inventor of it. Perhaps he has borrowed this way of fpreading his principles from Chrift himfelf, who taught truth, fometimes in para- bles, lbmetimes in queftions and aniwers, fome- times in fermons." " D'Alembert told me at the fame time, that he had carefully examined chriftianity, and had found nothing againft reafon in it. But the reafon why he did not adopt it was, becaufe he had no inward feelings of it. Thefe feelings were the gift of God, and fince he denied them him, he hoped to be excufed for not having it, and confequently for not being a chriftian." Laftly, the Count complained of having been for fame time troubled with difagreeable dreams. He wanted to know how far there was any mo- rality in them, and how far they could be char- ged to men. Being told that they proceeded from the free exertion of the foul during the time we are awake, he faid : " This anfwer fatisnes me, for I never think of thofe things, to which the L 4 dreams ( 152 ) dreams are related. In general, I obferve, that they derive their origin not from fenfations and ideas, which were but lately in my mind, but from fuch as were at a greater diftance of time. Thus, during the firft week of my imprifon- ment, I dreamt of nothing but of my parents, whom I have not feen a long while. It was as if I were in their houfe and their company. Many things that happened in their prefence during my infancy,, came into my mind again." The twenty-ninth Conference. April the 2.0th. AMONG other things, which were the *• fubjeel of this converfation, it was men- tioned, that the nearer and more perfect contem- plation of the works of God in futurity, would be a fource of pure and everlafting joy to che bleffed. The Count then mentioned, " That the contemplation of the works of nature had oftentimes afforded him great fatisfadlion, and that it had been the only means of keeping him from atheifm, into which he otherwife certainly Ihould have fallen.'* An exhortation of advancing in godlinefs, fince his end was fo near, produced the following declaration. ( 153 ) declaration from him : " Thank God," faid he, " I am ready to die, if it mould be even to-morrow. The freethinkers will fay, I mould have found within myfelf flrength enough againft my misfortunes, without applying to religion. They will fay, I (hewed myfelf now a coward, and was for this reafon unworthy of my former profperity. I wifh to God I had not been unworthy of it for other reafons. How- ever, I mould like to afk thefe gentlemen, in what manner I mould have found comfort with- in myfelf ? I dürft not think on my crimes, on my prefent fituation, on futurity, if I wanted tranquillity of mind. Nothing was left for me but to endeavour to flupify myfelf and to dif- fipate my thoughts. But how long would this have lafted in my prefent folitude, and being removed from all opportunities of diflipation ? And fuppofe it had been poflible, it would have been of little ufe, for the caufe of fear and anxiety remained always, and would have roufed me frequently from my artificial infenfibility, I tried this method during the firft weeks of my confinement, before I reflected on my condition. I laid for three or more hours together on my bed. My fancy compofed romances, I travelled through the whole world, and my imaginations produced a thoufand pictures to amuie myfelf with. ( *54 > with. But at that time I fancied to fee many ways of faving my life. I did not know whether and how far, my crimes might be difcovered. A certain cfrcumitance, which deprived me of all my hopes, was then fcill unknown to me. And even then, diffipation would not anfwer the purpofe. If I could dream in this manner perhaps for feveral hours, my terrors and my anxieties would return again. Perhaps fome people will fay, I mould have exerted my pride, and fhewn, at leafc by my outward conduct, that nothing could humble me. But alas! what a miferable pride is it to have a bad confeience, and to think of dying on a fcaffold! — No, I find it is better to derive my comfort from the only true fource, which is religion. And I wifh that thole who blame me now for taking fhelter un- der it, may find in their laft hours the fame tranquillity it affords me. There is but one thing in this world which makes me really and con- tinually uneafy, which is, that I have feduced others to irreligion and wickednefs. I believe I mould not properly enjoy my future happinefs, if I knew any of thofe I have deluded, would be eternally unhappy. It is therefore my mod fervent wifh, and my own happinefs depends on it, that God would fhew mercy to all thofe, I have by any means turned from him, and call them ( *55 ) them back to religion and virtue. I pray to God for this fervently." Some queftions being afked concerning his prayers, he faid : " He prayed frequently. He held foliloquies in his own heart, and excited himfelf to confirm and rectify his fentiments more and more. He addreffed himfelf alfo to God, and begged his affiftance for himfelf and his friends." He defired me to let him have fome of Cramer's fermons, and the Mejfiah of K lop- flock. He faid, " He had feveral times at- tempted to read this poem, but he never had any tafte for it. Perhaps the fault might have been his own, becaufe he was ignorant of thofe doctrines of religion it was grounded upon, and never thought them of any importance. Now as he knew more of religion, and thought quite differently, he would try if the poem might produce good fentiments in his foul." ( *56 ) 'fbe thirtieth Conference, April the 2 iß. HPH E Count was now fo much altered, that A fome of his former friends, whom I told of his prefent turn of thoughts and of his con- duct, would fcarce believe it. However, I had not the leaft reafon to doubt of thefincerity of either. I do not know for what purpofe he mould have attempted to deceive me. Befides, difiimulation was no part of his character. All thofe who had an opportunity of feeing him, found him the fame as I did, and I in particular had from the beginning guarded myfelf againft being deceived. His prefent peace of mind feemed to me in par- ticular a fure proof of the effects of religion upon his heart. Among many obfervations he made to-day, the following feem to be of fome im- portance. " I confider it now," faid he, " as a kind of folly, that the deifls pretend to be offended at the humble appearance Chrift and the firf^ teachers of Chriftianity made. I need not ob- ferve, that in relation to God, nothing is either little or great, but cannot help remarking that this humble appearance of Chrift was very well adapted C 157 ) adapted to the defign of his million. The com- mon people took him now to be one of their equals, and placed confidence in him. For this reafon Chrift chofe his Apoftles among the lower clafs of mankind, and the Apoftles converfed moftly with fuclt. And even thefe common people were as proper fpectators of their miracles as an aflembly of philofophers, as they were all ofthat nature, that nothing more was required to judge of them, than the natural fenfes and a common fhare of underftanding. A private foldier is perhaps more fit for fuch an obfervation, than a general who has his head full of other things, or thinks it not worth his while to attend to it. The evidence which is given by men of common underftanding in behalf of Chrift's miracles, is therefore worthy of credit. The learned and the philofophers can now confider thefe facts, and examine whether they are real miracles, and then determine how far they are in favour of Chrift and his doctrine." Laftly, the Count declared, " that he had a fin- cere love towards God and his Redeemer, that he rejoiced in the blefllngs of eternity, though he was not anxious as to the time when he mould partake of them. The fenfe of his repentance was not fo lively as formerly, fince he could apply the comforts of the Gofpel to quiet his confei- 3 ence. ( 158 ) ence. I beg of you,'* added he, " confider of my fituation, whether you find me as I mould be. Write to Cramer, and defire him to tell his opi- nion -, I am ready to do what he or you fhall pre- Scribe." The Count knew that there was a correfpond- ence between Cramer and me concerning the pro- grefs of his converfion ; I ufed to communicate to him thole pafiages in Cramer's letters that re- lated to him. He readily made ufe of Cramer's reflexions and doubts. He was very defirous of his letters, and enquired even the very laft morn- ing of his life, if any of his letters had been re- ceived which concerned him. The thirty-firß Conference. April the i\th. T H E following obfervation of the Count will ferve to give us an idea of his cha- racter. " Do not mind, faid he, if it mould be faid, you ought to have urged to me argu- ments which were not fo philofophical and more evangelical •, I allure you that by no other means you would have found accels to my heart than by thofe you have chofen. There are only three ways which you might have taken : declamation, 2 ftirring ( 159 ) ftirring up the imagination, and cool enquiry. If you had chofen that of declamation, I fhould have immediately thought, If the man has a good caule, why does he not prop crfe his reafons with- out any art : if God has a revealed religion, it muit Hand the teft of enquiry; I therefore fhould have heard you without any emotion. If you had endeavoured to dir up my imagination, you muft have done it by filling it with terrible defcrip- tions of eternity. This method would have had ftill lefs effect than declamation: I was very fure that after death there was nothing either to hope or fear. Any iirripr&fi'on you might have made through fear would foon have worn off, and would have entirely vanifhed by recollecting my former fyftem. The only way left you was that which you chofe, I mean, cool enquiry. I will tell you now what refolution I had taken before you came, and for what reafons I entered into converfation with you. About eight days before your firft vifit to me, the commander of the caftle afked me if i chofe to converfe with a divine ? Thinking, however, that every clergyman would be apt either to preach too much, or tire me with melancholy declamations, I declined the propofal, and faid ; I and all di- vines differ very much in opinion, and I have no inclination to difpute. However, I knew that ( i6o ) that I mull expert a clergyman to attend me by order of government, I therefore refolved to re- ceive him civilly, and to hear him with decency and compofure. I intended to declare to him, at the end of the firft vifit, that if he was ordered to fee me frequently he would be welcome, but I mould beg of him not to entertain any hopes of converting me, for I was too well convinced of my own opinion, and mould therefore never enter into any ufelefs difputations. — When you came, my dear friend, I immediately perceived, that you had no intention to declaim to me in the ftile of a preacher, or to fill me with fears and terrors» and inflame my imagination. You only defired me, fince the matter was of fo great con- fequence, to examine into my own principles, and the evidence for chrifiianity. I found this reaibnable, I had time to do it, and fancied I ihould, by this enquiry, difcover that chrifti- anity had no foundation, and convince myfelf more ftrongly of the truth of my principles. We begun our conferences with great coolnefs ; I read the books you gave me, though with diffidence, yet with attention. This did not continue long, and I could not help perceiving that I had been miftaken. It can fcarcely be believed how much it has coll me to own my error, with regard to myfelf, as well as with regard to you. You may remember ( 1*1 ) remember that I did not from the firft deny that I had acted wrong, and had been unhappy in my former fituation, and that my confcience re- proached me. But, considering my former ob- ftinacy, it was a great victory over myfelf, to confefs that my former principles were falfe. To proceed fo far was only to be done by reafen. You are the bed judge why you treated me in the manner you have done; but the fuccefs en- tirely juftifies you: my converfion is, through the grace of God, luckily brought about. In what manner this is effected muft be indifferent to all but you and I. Senfible chriftians will rejoice that my foul is faved, and that you have chofen this method, which, in regard to me, was the only good one." Towards the end, of our converfation I told him, that this week, in all probability, would be the lail of his life, as I knew that next Saturday fentence would be pronounced againft him, and that between the fentence and the execution of it, there would be very few days. He received this news v/ith his former refolution and ferenity. " I hope, faid he, that I (hall certainly meet my death without ftupifying fear and anxiety. I am only apprehenfive that you will be much M affefted ( 162 ) affected by this fhocking fcene. If it would have no bad effe£t upon the Spectators, I fhould defire you not to accompany me to the fcaffold." No, faid I, dear Count, I am your only friend, and I dare not leave you. I will comfort you with the hope, which I entertain as a certain one, that yon mall be happy in eternity : I will aflift you under this fevere fate ; and the only recom- pence I expect, is to fee you die as a christian. The thirty -ft cond Conference. April the i%d. / "lp H E Count, after afking me why fo many who know the precepts of chriftianity, do neverthelefs not live up to them, related a con- verfation he had with one of the officers, wherein he attempted to fhew, that it was not impoflible to practife the laws of chriftianity. He after- wards defired me to appoint a day when he could receive the facrament. I imagined that Thurs- day would be the day of his execution, and as he wifhed to comply with this folemn institution fome time before he fuffered, we appointed the Monday following. ( 16 3 ) The thirty -third Conference, jipril the i^thh f I s H E Count had yefterday finifhed his ac- count of his converfion, and he now deli- vered it to me. He allured me he had drawn it up with a kind of anxiety, left he mould fay any thing which was not ftrictly conformable to his former and prefent principles. This was the reafon why he had been fo long about it. He was afraid he might not have exprefTed himfelf in fome places with perfpicuity and propriety, fince he had not for fome years written much in the German lan- guage, and never upon fuch a fubject ; befides, he* had endeavoured to expfefs himfelf with concife- nefs, for fear of being too prolix. The employment itfelf had been very agreeable to him, as it had given him an opportunity of recollecting all the arguments by which he had been convinced, and had now found them fo ftrong, that he was con- fident he would not redeem his life for all his former profperity, by any action which might contradict his prefent conviction. He defired me now to read what he had drawn up, to judge whether it anfwered that intention for which it was written. M 2 I then. ( i*4 ) I then read the whole before him, and found fome oblcure paffages, exprefiions and ideas, which might be mifunderftood by chriftians and unbelievers, and made my remarks upon them. Some of thefe paffages he altered with his own hand, fome he rather chofe to leave as they were. " I have drawn up, faid he, this account, to convince chriftians, as well as thofe which are not, and in whofe hands this may fall, that I be- came a chriftian after mature confideration, and that I die fuch. I am pretty well acquainted with the turn of thinking of the laft, and will prevent them from faying that I turned chriftian from fear, and weaknefs of underftanding: I muft endeavour to convince them, that I have exa- mined the fubject, and reafoned upon it, to fliew them, for inftance, what is my opinion of the myfteries of religion, and why I do not think them contradictory to reafon. If fuch of my readers as are chriftians fhould find my ideas not altogether as they mould be, or my expreflions fometimes improper, I hope they will not be fur- prized, conßdering how new thefe truths are to me, and how little I am qualified to fpeak or to write about them. You know, my dear friend, how I now believe, without any further reafoning or explanation or infght into the connexion of the , whole ( i*5 ) whole fyftem, every thing that Chrift has taught, becaufe his word is fufficient for me." The Monday following, as I have mentioned already, was appointed for receiving the facra- ment. I told the Count, thatfince it was a folemn action^ and at the fame time a public confefllon of his chriftianity, I thought it proper that it mould be celebrated before fome witnefles, that were known to be true chriftians. He anfwered : " I wifhed to receive it with Count Brandt, but fince this will be matter of difficulty, I beg of you to intreat the commander of the caftle to be prefent." The Count did not appear to. me to-day to be fo ferene and chearful as he ufed to be. I en- quired what could be the reafon of it, and he gave me the following anfwer : " You know that to-morrow I expect my fentence ; this has induced me to reflect on former times. I thought if I had not acted in fuch a manner as I have done, I mould not have come into this mifery j it has made me rather uneafy : however you may be fure that this uneafinefs will foon pafs over ; I have found already fufficient reafon to be above fuch re- M 3 flexions, ( i 66 ) . flexions, fince they are at prefent ill-timed and entirely unneceffary. The thirty-fourth Conference. April the 2$th. " "\ T Oluptuoufnefs, faid the Count, is the * fource of all my misfortunes ; ambition has only contributed to haften and complete them. I have told you already, that when I firfl came into Denmark I intended to cut as great a figure as my fituation would permit. I then did not think of obtaining that power, to which I was raifed -, I could have fatisfied myfelf with being eminent in my profeflion as a phyfician. You will find this to be true from what I am going to tell you. I had refolved to leave Alton a, to re- fign my ftation there. I intended to go to Malaga, and to fettle there as a phyfician, or to make a voyage to the Eaft Indies. I had the following reafons for my firfl: refolution. I was, at the time I took it, rather in ill health, and hoped a milder climate would agree better with me. The notion that the pleafures of volup- tuoufnefs would be greater and more pleafing in a warmer climat •, were a matter alfo of fome confequence. The many fine things in the Eaft Indies, which I had read in voyages, and which had ( i6 7 ) had warmed my imagination, determined me more for the Eaft Endies than for Malaga : be- fides the great hopes I had of making a fortune, and fatisfying thofe defires which made me think at firft of Malaga. Now a profpect opened itfelf to me, of making my fortune in Denmark. I feized on the favourable opportunity. And why ? I am almoft afhamed to fay it was owing to an acquaintance procured by a love intrigue which brought me hither. How greatly muft I deteft my former way of thinking, which made me follow a wild pafllon which always was blind ! And how much am I now punilhed for it !" He was juft fpeaking of feveral things which concerned his heart, of his affections towards his parents and family, of his complying with his fate, when his council came into the room to acquaint him with his fentence. " Good Count, faid he, I bring you bad news." He then pulled a copy of the fentence out of his pocket. " I expected nothing elfe, faid the Count ; let me fee." He read. I fixed my eyes upon him with great attention, but I did not obferve the leaft M 4 alteration r .168 ) alteration in his countenance. After he had read it, he gave it to me. It was as follows : " In confequence of the Danifh flatute law, book vi. chapter iv. art. r. It is hereby declared jufl and right, that Count John Frederick Struenfee, for his due punimment, and that he may be an example to terrify others, has for- feited his honour, his life, and his eftates. He mail be degraded from his dignity as Count, and all other digities which have been conferred upon him. His coat of arnr, which he had as Count, mail be^ broken by the common hang- man. Likewife mail John Frederick Struenfee's right hand, and afterwards his head, be cut off, his body (hall be quartered and laid upon the wheel, and his head and his hand {hall be {tuck upon a pole." During the time that I was reading this fen- tence and trembled, he began to talk with com- pofure with his council, and afked if all the points of his accufations had been regarded in framing his fentence. The couniel anfwered in the affirmative. " And what will be the fate of Brandt?" His fentence is exactly the fame as yours, «« And could his council do nothing in order to fave him ?" He has faid every thing that could be faid in his favour, but Count Brandt ( i6 9 ) Brandt has too much laid to his charge. The Count was more moved at this, than at his own fate. However he foon recollected himfelf, wrote fomething to what he had drawn up for his council, and returned it to him. When we were alone, I affured him of my fincere compaflion, and exhorted him to fufFer his fate with the patience and fubmifilon of a chriflian. " I afTure you," faid he, " I am very eafy about that. Such punifhments fhould make an imprefiion upon others, and therefore they ought to be fevere. I had prepared myfelf for this and more. I thought I might perhaps be broken upon the wheel, and was already con- fidering whether I could fufFer this kind of death with patience. If I have defervcd it, my infamy would not be removed, though thofe difgraceful circumftances were not annexed to it. And if I had not defer ved it, which I cannot affert, fenfible people would do me juftice, and I fhouid gain in point of honour. And upon the whole, what is honour or in- famy in this world to me ? My judges had the law before them, and therefore they could not judge otherwiie. I confefs my crime is great ; I h.;ve C '70 ) I have violated the Majefty of the King. Many- things I might not have done if I had been fuf- ficiently acquainted with the law — But why did I neglect it r" To be fure, faid I, you only are to blame. One of your crimes, of which there is not the leaft doubt, is not only a crime againft the King's Majefty, but alfo againft the whole nation, and it would be looked upon as flieh in any other country. That unlawful power which you ufurped to yourfelf, is likewife a crime againft the conftkution of Denmark. And though per- haps you might not think you had been guilty of high treafon on this account, yet the fact is proved, and the law is clear. He owned all this, and I was forry to have faid fo many difagree- able things to him. He added : " I muft only beg of you to be upon your guard, left you fhould be too much affected when I go to die. The friendfhip I have for you, from which I cannot but fympathize with you, would make me very uneafy to fee you fuffer. Let us however continue our converfa- tion calmly and compofed to the laft. Upon the fcaffold fpeak to me as little as poflible, and as you fhall think proper. I fhall certainly do as much as lies in my power to direct my thoughts towards ( i7i ) towards God and my Redeemer. I fhall not take my leave of you. Believe me, that without this ceremony, which likely might difcompofe my mind, I know and feel how much I owe you." My readers will recollecl how much this un- happy man was moved by a letter he received from his father, at a time when he ftill maintained his irreligious principles, Now they have feen with what a compofure of mind he heard his fentence, after he was become a chriftian. He delivered to me the following letter for his parents, and left it to me, whether I would fend it now or after his death. I chofe the latter, be- caufe I knew his execution was very near, and I would fave them the anxiety of expecting the melancholy news of it. The letter was as follows : " Your letters have encreafed my pain, but I have found in them that love which you always exprefied for me. The memory of all that for- row which I have given you, by living contrary to your good advice, and the great affliction my imprifonment and death muft caufe you, grieves ( 172 ) grieves me the more, fince, enlightened by truth, I fee clearly the injury I have done. With the moft fincere repentance, I beg your pardon and forgivenefs. I owe my prefent fituation to my belief in the doctrine and redemption of Chrift. Your prayers and your good example have contributed much towards it. Be afTured, that your fon has found that great good, which you believe to be the only true one. Look upon his misfortune as the means which made him obtain it. All imprefTions which my fate could make upon you, will be weakened by this, as it has effaced them with me. I recommend my- felf to your further interceflion before God. I pray inceflantly to Chrift my Redeemer, that he may enable you to bear your prefent calamities. I owe the fame to his affiflance. My love to my brother and filters. I am, with all filial re- fpeft, &c." The thirty -fifth Cofiference. April the 26 th. T Heard from General lieutenant Holben, the A commander of the caftle, that Struenfee had been very uneafy all laft night : That he had kicked with his feet, gnafhed with his teeth, and gnawed his fingers. The officer upon guard got up to him, but found him faft afleep. I enquired ( *73 ) enquired of my unfortunate friend, whether he had been troubled with difagreeable dreams. Hefaid: " That when he awaked in the morning, he remembered nothing but the bringing to his memory all the arguments, by which he was convinced of the truth of chriftianity. Of the uneafinefs of his body he remembered no- thing." I had to acquaint him with the melancholy news that his fentence was confirmed in every particular circumflance, and that it was to be executed the day after to-morrow. I hoped he would hear it with a compofed mind, and it happened fo. As to thofe circumftances which were to throw infamy upon his death, he ex- prefled himfelf thus : " I am far above all this, and I wifh my friend Brandt may be the fame. Here in this world, fince I am on the point of leaving it, neither honour nor infamy can afFect me any more. It is equally the fame to me after death, whether my body putrifies under ground or in the open air, whether it ferves to feed the worms or the birds. God will know very well how to pre- ferve thofe particles of my body, which, on the day of refnrreftion, are to conftitute my future glorified ( m ) glorified body. It is not my all which is to be laid upon the wheel. Thank God ! I know now very well that this duft is not my whole being." When I told him that next Tuefday would be his dying day, he anfwered : " I thought it would be Friday. However, I do not wifh even for this fhort delay. It would be the fame as if I was to undergo a painful operation for my health, and mould defire to have it delayed when it was juft going to be per- formed. I mould be obliged to fubmit to it at laft, and I fhould only recover my health later." — He then went through all the circumftances of his death, and compared them with thofe of the death of Chrift, and found that Jefus had fuffered infinitely more for his fake, than he was to fuffer on account of his crimes. He praifed the power of prayer in comforting him, when he was now and then anxious about the Hep he was to take. I am unable to defcribe the eafe and tran- quillity with which he fpoke. 'I expected much from the power of religion over his heart, but it exceeded my moll fanguine expectations. He ( *75 ) He afiured me that religion, and his firm hopes of being pardoned by God, had produced this eafe of mind. He owned that his natural coolnefs of temper, his ufing himielf for many- years to keep his imagination within bounds, and his entertaining himfelf rather with reflec- tions of found realon than images of fancy, had in fome refpects fupported him •, but he was convinced that all this, without religion, would never have compofed his mind. God had adap- ted it for all kind of tempers and for all cha- racters. It was fit for all men, and it found in him a good foil to produce all its good effects of tranquillity and fortitude in advert! ty. Pie added : " Although the way which leads me out of this world is very difagieeable, yet I have reafon to praife God that he has made choice of it ; that he has fnewn me the approaching death aforehand, and at the fame time has extricated me out of the pleafures and diflipations of this life. In no other manner fhculd I have become acquainted with truth, or mould have reformed my fentiments ; though I am furc I fhould have adopted chriftianiry in all filiations of life, if I had known it fo well as I do now : And yet, I never mould have taken proper time to ex- amine into it. When I formerly thought on death, it had but little effect upon me. I rather fupprefTed ( *7* ) fupprefled it, fometimes by thinking It was a fate which could not be avoided, and therefore was not to be called into our thoughts before there was occafion for it: fometimes, by perfnading myfelf it was folly to imbitter the prefent en- joyments, by thinking on what was to come. Even when I was in danger of my life, I avoided looking into futurity. I have been fometimes fo dangeroufly ill, that my life has been defpair- ed of; I have been riding furioufly, and no longer ago than lad flimmer broke my arm, by being thrown from my horfe, but it never en- tered my thoughts to look one ftep further than this prefent life. Being reminded of felf-examination, he laid, " he did it every day. It was an occupation he liked." — Among other things, he faid : " I know my adminiftration of ftate affairs is very blameable before God and men, and my own confeience, on account of the bad principles by which I was actuated, namely, levity, hafte, pride and felfilhnefs. How far they are wrong, either upon the whole or fingly confidered in a political light, I am unable indeed to determine, becaufe I mall not live to fee the confequences. However, I muft expect to have been fubject to error in my political principles, as well as I have ( m ) have been in my religious ones. I leave this point to be decided by thofe that furvive me, and I fubmit to their judgment. This only I can and mud fay, (for I mould fpeak untruth if I was to fpeak otherwife) that I am not con- fcious of any bad intentions." After this a converfation enfued about the Lord's Supper. When it was finifhed, I told him that a poor peafant, who met me to-day in the ftreet, called out to me : ' Father, do what you can to convince Struenfee that he has finned againft our Lord Jefus Chrift; and if he ac- knowledges this he will be faved.' The Count was much pleafed, on account of the chriftian love which this man had fhewn ; and obferved that chriftianity could inftill fentiments of humanity into the minds of illiterate people whofe fouls were not refined by education. " Reading," faid he, " will not fufficiently entertain me at prefent, therefore I have been writing to-day." Among the reft he had written the following letter to Lady Perkentin at Pinneberg, which he defired me to take care that it rright be fafely delivered. The folio wing is the letter. N My <.( ( >78 ) My Lady, I make ufe of the firft moments, which permit me to write to you. Bufmefs, duties, and my late connexions, have perhaps lef- fened in me the remembrance of my former friends, but they have hot been able to obli- terate their memory entirely. My prefent leifure has revived it the more lively. If my filence has raifed fufpicion againil my former fenti- ments, I beg pardon of all thofe that are in- titled to my gratitude, and of you, my Lady, in particular. This, however, is not the only ad- vantage, which the change of my fate has pro- duced. I owe my knowledge of truth to it, it has procured me a happinefs of which I had no more expectation, fince I had already loft fight of it. I intreat you to confider my misfortunes in no other light but that of religion. I gain more by it than ever I can lofe, and I feel an 1 affure you of this with conviction, eafe and joy of heart. I beg of you to repeat what I now write, in the houfe of Count Ahlefeld and at Ranzau. I am under great obligations to thefe two families, and it has grieved me the more, to have drawn vyith me into misfortunes, perfons which are related to them. Permit me, my Lady, to add ( 179 ) add to this, my refpects to Lady Thun, and the family of Mr. de Waitz. I remain, with moft refpectful ientiments, &c." April the 26th, 1772* The thirty -fifth Conference. April the ibth. Came to-day to the Count with general lieu- tenant Hoben, who, at my requeft, was prefent at his receiving the facrament. I ad- miniftered it to him ; and this man, who re- ceived his fentence of death without any appear- ing alteration of mind, was during the whole time of this facred tranfaclion, as if he was melting into tears. I never obferved a tear in his eyes as often as we were talking about his misfortunes and death ; but on account of his fins, his moral mifery into which he had thrown himfelf and others •, on account of the love of God towards him and all mankind, he has wept more than I myfelf mould believe, if I had not feen it. When the whole tranfaftion of receiving the facrament was over, he begged leave of the commander of the caftle, to make prefents of the trifles that he had left, his bed, his linen, N 2 and ( i8o ) and the little money which he had faved out of his allowance, which was a rixdollar or a crown every day. He faid, " I have now no more property." He then took his farewel of the commander, in a very affecting manner •, thanked him for all kindnefs he had fhewn him, and declared, that he had not denied him any favour that was in his power to grant. The old venerable man left him with thefe words : " I am fure we mall find one another again before the throne of God." When we were alone again, he faid : " No- thing is now of great importance to me, but to be certain, that I mail appear before God with all pofiible fincerity and uprightnefs of fentiment. I therefore have examined myfelf once more carefully, and I find a kind of plea- fure in it, becaufe it is my duty. I am confcious that I perform every thing chearfully and with- out the leafl reluctance, fmce, enlightened by chriftianity, I have learnt what is my duty. Thus have I thought myfelf obliged, to draw up the account of my conver-fion, which is in your poflefiion, to efface as much as pofiible that im- prefiion, which I have made upon others by my converfation C 181 ) converfation and example. I can aflure yon, I felt more fatisfaction in writing it, than ever I did in drawing up other things, that concerned partly my defence. I have more minutely ex- amined my administration of flate affairs - y and I can, according to my confeience, judge of it no otherwife than I told you yefterday. I go into eternity, confeious that it was not my intention to make the King or the nation unhappy. It is true, I have, within a fhort time, amafied con- fiderable riches, and taken advantage of the King's favour towards me, in a manner I can- not anfwer for -, but I never have falfified the accounts, though much in this refpeCt feems to be againft me, and I can blame nobody who thinks me in this reipect likewife culpable." It is difficult to difmifs every fufpicion on this head againft Struenfee. And if he was guilty, of how little value would be his converfion ! It has made me uneafy frequently, and even now ftill after his death. All manner of appearances, bis own confeflion, that he could not free himielf from all fufpicion, and many other evi- dences are againft him, However, on the other fide, it makes me eafy that he confefTed greater and more punifhable crimes, without N 3 jconftraint, ( 132 ) conftraint, but denied this with a firmnefs, calmnefs of mind and confidence, which, in- explicable as the matter remains, makes it difficult to believe him guilty. * c I have traced out, continued he, the origin from which my prefent calmnefs and tranquillity proceeds. I am fure they are quite different from thofe which afforded me comfort in my former misfortunes. It is quite impoffible in my prefent fituation, to draw my thoughts from my imminent danger by diifipation. Approach- ing death is not fo eafily expelled from one's thoughts. I feel no more of any pride. I am too fenfible how little I am in this my prifon. I detefl the principle that teaches, there are no ex^ pectations after death. Nothing but the afiii ranee of the divine mercy through faith in Chrift, and the confeioufnefs that I fpare no pains to make my fentiments acceptable before God, comforts and compofes me.' 3 " However," added he, " this my eafe makes me not idle ; for I continue, and fhall do fo until to the very laft, to fearch earneftly after all thofe things in me which flill may difpleafe God, that I may remove them as much as pofiible." 3 Among ( «83 ) Among the many proofs he gave of this, I (hall only mention the following, becaufe it mews how fcrupuloufly confcientious he was. " I think, fajd he, that it is the duty of a christian to pray before he fits down to a meal, though my fentiments in this refpect do not favour fuperflition. It is but juft, to direct our thoughts on fuch occafions, full of gratitude, towards him who fupplies our wants in this way. I therefore have made it for fome time a rule to pray before and after dinner and fupper. How- ever, my old cuftom had frequently fo much power over me, that I oftentimes fat down to eat before I had faid grace. Now it may be equally the fame whether I direcl my thoughts towards God, before or after having taken two or three fpoonfuls of foup ; but it has vexed me to find that my old carelefs way of thinking has made me forget, what I thought to be my duty." How do my readers like the confcientioufnefs of a man, who formerly indulged himfelf in every thing his pafllons drove him to ? ( i»4 ) sfhe tbirty-feventh Conference. April the 2jtB, Found him to-day in the moft unfeigned tranquillity of mind, to which indeed I had been witnefs for feveral weeks paft, but which appeared more and more ftriking to me the nearer the time of his death advanced. I praifed God in my heart, who fhewed fo much mercy to this unhappy man ! How often did I wifli that I might not be the only man upon earth, who heard him ipeak fo compofedly about his death. He had written another letter to the Chamber- lain de Brandt, the brother of the unhappy Count, which he defired me to get delivered. Several ether papers, which he had written in his prifon, were inclcfed in a cover, and fealed up by me in the prefence of the commander of the caftle, who once more did us the favour to come into the prifon. The other papers, which coniifted of thofe writings of mine, which I had given him from time to time, and the two letters of his parents to him, he delivered to me Jikewife. — And now he had fet his houfe in prder, — ( i85 ) The following is the letter to the Cham- berlain de Brandt. " Sir, ''^Permit me to bewail with you and the Lady your mother, the fate of our dear Enevold. Do not think me unworthy of maring this your grief with you, though accidentally I have been the caufe of it. You know how much I love him. He was the man of all the world who poflefTed the largeft fhare of my friendfhip. His misfortunes give me the greateft anxiety, and my own have been on this account mod painful to me. He has lhared my profperity with me, and I truft that we now both together ihall enjoy that happinefs which our Redeemer has promifed us. I do not know any thing wherewith I could comfort you. You are acquainted with religion. There I found refuge to comfort me on account of my misfortune. I pray to God, that he in this very moment will let you feel all its power. I fhall not ceafe to entertain a moft lively fenfe of gratitude for all thofe perfons, which are dear to me at Ranzau. I am wholly your's." jipril the 27th, 1772. " P. S. I have been in hopes, and ftill flatter myfelf, that the fentence of my friend will be mitigated." 2 The ( i86 ) The fubjecl: of our to-day's converfation was chiefly upon the redemption of Chrift. I re- peated moftly what I had fpoken on the fubjecl: already when we purpofely treated on it. He faid many (hiking and edifying things on this oc- cafion ; but the emotion my heart was in, prevented my perfect remembrance of each par- ticular. The following is part of it " I look upon the reconciliation of men to God, through the death of Chrift, as the only means of receiving forgivenefs of fins. Every thing elfe, which is believed :o ferve the fame purpofe, is apparently infufftxient. But this is conformable to all our notions of God ; it pro- duces ideas fuitable to the attributes of God ; it is founded on the beft reafons, and procures us comfort and chearfulnefs at the time when death approaches. Whoever will not adopt and make ufe of this redemption, declares that he will nei- ther be virtuous, nor fear God ; for he rejects the ftrongeft motives which God could ever pro- pofe to mankind, to fear him and to love virtue ; he flights the affiftance of God, without which nobody can be honeft or good." He added : " I leave the world, fully con- vinced of the truth of the chriftian religion." I then ( »8 7 ) I then turned our converfation upon the love of a pious chriflian towards God, I fhewed him how much we were obliged to this love on account of the redemption, and afked him how he found his love towards God and his Redeemer. He faid : " I look upon God and Chrift as my beft friends ; and in this view I confider thofe oblio-a- tions of love which I owe to God and my Re- deemer. I firft muft know and feel for what I am indebted to my friend and benefactor. He is defirous of making me happy, he finds the means of doing it, he facrifices on my account what he loves and what is dear to him. As lono- 9 as I do not acknowledge this, or do not know how to value the fame, fo long am I unworthy of his friendship, and do not love him. I am further obliged to fhew my readinefs to a£fc ac- cording to his intentions : elfe I am ungrateful, and want him to be my friend only for felf- intereft, and to do nothing myself that was worthy of his friendmip. You fee here the prin- ciples according to which I love God and my Redeemer. I know what God has done for me, and what it has coll Chrift to procure my falva- tipn. I know how great the bieffing is which J fball enjoy through him. But I am likewife confcious C 18S ) confcions that I do, whatever I can, to ad ac- cording to the will of God, to rectify my fenti- ments, and to prepare myfelf for death in a man- ner which may be acceptable before God. I fubmit without the leaft reluctance to his will in regard to myfelf, becaufe I know he loves me. I look upon my death, and all thofe awful and ignominious circumflances that are to attend it, as things which God found neceflary for my own good. In the beginning of my confinement, I thought quite different from what I do now, even when I recollected that my affairs might perhaps turn out in the manner that they do now. I wifhed to fall fick and to die. I even had the thought of abflaining from eating and to ftarve myfelf to death : yet I never fhould have laid hands on myfelf, though I mould have had an opportunity for it. I now praife God heartily that neither of the two has taken place." I told him, that thefe fentiments gave me great fatisfaction in regard to his falvation, and that 1 iaw now how great reafon he had to be lb calm and fo com poled as I found him, " Yes, thanks be to God, faid he, I am as fatisfied as a man can be who fees his greateft happinefs before him. I therefore humbly adore the ( i8 9 ) the mercy of God, and the power of religion. If it happens that my tranquillity is interrupted for fome moments, it is caufed by the wifli to be convinced that I have fulfilled all thofe conditions under which God will grant me mercy, and that I am fuch as God wants me to be. I therefore have taken the book of Spalding into my hands again, to fatisfy myfclf on this point." I ari- fwered, That I did not know of any other conditions of our falvation, and the Bible taught us no other but thefe two : an unlimited confidence in God through Chrift, and a zeal to think and to a6l always according to the will of God. And fince he was confcious that he believed in Chrift, and that he loved God, he had no reafon to doubt of his being pardoned before God. He then faid : " I have examined myfelf in all refpe&s I could think of, and I find nothing that can make me uneafy. If I found any thing of this kind, I fhould have told you of it, and have afked your advice. But how eafily may I have overlooked many things which are known to God •, and if fo, what will he dp ?" He ( *9<5 ) He will forgive you, faid I, becaufe you have done what you could do in thole c ire urn fiances you were in. We cannot raife ourfclves to per- fection. We afterwards confulted and fettled how we fhould act to-morrow, it being the day when he was to die. I promifed to be with him fome hours before he went to the fcafFold ; for, ac- cording to the King's order, I dürft not go along with him to the place of execution ; I was to o-o before him, and to receive him there. He defired me to carry on our converfation to-morrow, as compofedly and as coolly as hitherto. He wifhed that we might finifh what we had to do on the fcafFold as quick as poffible, and that I might keep up my fpirits, that he might not fee me fuffer. As for himfelf, he fhould fay nothing there but what he thought abfolutely neceffary ; for he would direct his thoughts entirely towards God, and that eternity he was to enter into. I told him, that according to the ritual I was to afk him a great many queflions, but that I thought I had a right of ihortening them. I did this in his prefence, wrote the queflions down, which ( 19 1 ) which I was to afk him, and read them to him afterwards. " I do not chufe, faid he, to fee my brother and ta take leave of him, on account of the ten- dernefs of our fituation. I beg therefore of you to do it in my name. I intreat his pardon, for drawing him with me into misfortunes, but I hope and am certain that his affairs will turn out well. I arTure him of my leaving this world with true brotherly affection for him. Tell him like wife of the fentiments in which I die, and how you find me." This commhTion, which was the moft tender and moft moving I ever had, I difchürged, by the leave of the commander, this very evening, and carried back the anfwerof the much afFJcted brother. The thirty-eighth Conference. April the i%th. Ceding to the account of the officer who had the watch that night, the Count, who now was certainly no more an unhappy man. had been reading a good while the preceeding evening, and ( 19* ) and went to bed pretty early. He had flept for five or fix hours together very foundly. When he wakened in the morning, he had fpent a good while in deep meditation. He then got up, dreffed him (elf, and converfed with the officer very compofedly. I found him lying on a couch, dreffed as he intended to go to the place of execution. He was reading Shlegel's fermons on the fufferings of Chrift, and received me with his ufual ferene and compofed countenance. He faid : " I was thinking laft night whether it might not flrengthen me in my way to death, if I was to fill my fancy with agreeable images of eternity and future blifs. I might have ufed forthis purpofe Lavater's Profpefts into Eternity : but I will not venture to do this. I rather think it better to take this great ftep in cool confideration. I^ancy, if once put in agitation, can foon take a falfe turn. It could dilmifs (perhaps) at once, my agreeable and pleafing profpeets of eternity, and eagerly catch at the formidable circumftances of death, by which means I fear that I mould be unmanned. Even in going to the place of execu- tion, I will not indulge it, but rather employ my reafon ( 193 ) reafon in meditating on the walk of Chrift to his death, and apply it to myfelf." He then defired me, if I thought it necelfary, to affure his judges in his name once more, that what he had confeffed, was in all refpects the truth, and that he had not wilfully concealed any thing, which he himfelf or others could be charged with. He continued : " When I awoke this morning and found that it was daylight, my whole body was feized with a vehement trembling. I took directly to prayer, and confidered the comforts of religion. I prayed for the King, that God's wifdom and mercy might guide him, and that he perfonally might be perfectly happy. I foon recovered my fpirits again. I am now calm and com- pofed, and I am fure I mail remain fo. Why mould I make myfelf uneafy, when I am fully convinced of my falvation ? God has forgiven me my fins, and even thofe which I do not re- member ; he has pardoned me for thofe things which he ftill diflikes in me, and which I by Mf- examination could not difcover, and therefore could not reform. God can not forgive vice in general, without doing the fame in every parti- cular fpecies of vice. The remembrance of the O fufferings ( '94 ) fufferings of Chrift, who has fatisfied God for all men, afiiire me of this. And fince I am fo certain of my falvation, I do not dread death. Fear of death would be inconfiftent tinder cir- eumftances fo full of a happy eternity. Befides, I cannot complain that my fate is too hard. I know that I deferve this and ftill more. But, " who mall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect ? — Who is he that condemneth ?" - I took the opportunity he gave me, to explain to him the whole eighth chapter of St. Paul to the Romans : There were fo many beautiful paffages which were excellently well adapted to his former and his prefent fituation. The molt vifible calmnefs was to be obferved in his whole countenance •, and he frequently prevented my going on, by falling into the fame obfervations I was juft going to make in order to ftrengthen his faith. He now afked me: " How far am I per- mitted to keep up my fortitude by natural means ? For inftance : by endeavouring to retain prefence of mind, and not to permit myfelf to be carried away by .imagination and fancy." I anfwered, If ( *95 ) If God has given you a certain ftrength of foul, it is his will that you mall make ufe of it, in thofe moments when you ftand moll in need of it. But no inward pride or any ill-founded com- placency is to interfere. You are to do nothing merely for the fake of being applauded by the lpectators on account of your refolution and com- pofure. You are to be above fuch things. God loves fincerity, which confifls in fhewing our- felves outwardly as we are inwardly. Shew yourfelf therefore exactly in the manner as you feel yourfelf within. If you even fhould be fo much affected as to med tears, do not hide them, and do not be afhamed of them ; for they are no difhonour to you. You cannot conceal from yourfelf, even unto the very laft moment of your life, why you are to die. You would do wrong* and offend true chriftians, if you were to die with a chearfulnefs, which can only fall to the fhare of thofe that furfer for the fake of truth and virtue. I wifh to fee you on the fcaffold with vifible figns of repentance and forrow, but at the fame time with a peace of mind which arifes from a confidence of being pardoned before God. I mould even diflike to fee you conceal the na- tural fear of death. He faid : " I am certainly not inclined to make any fliew before men. Nothing can be now more intc- O 2 reftino- ( *9 6 ) reding to me than to pleafe God, and to conquer the terrors of death. If I mould force myfelf to appear outwardly different from v/hat I am within, it would happen to me what happens to a man, who is to fpeak to an eminent peribn, and has well confidered every thing he is going to fay, but now begins to flammer, and, by endeavour- ing to prevent this, becomes quite fpeechlefs. I fhall, as much as lies in my power, direct my thoughts towards God, and not difturb myfelf by Undying to fatisfy the expectation of the fpectatofs. Therefore I ßiaj] fay nothing on the fcaffold, but what you yourfelf fhall give me •occafion for." I aflure you, faid' I, I mail give you very few opportunities for it ; the fcaffold is neither for you nor for nie the place for fpeaking much. When you are there, it will be your bufinefs to ftrenothen your thoughts as much as poffible, forgetting thole things which are behind, and reaching forth unto thole things which are before. " Now, faid he, iince I am fo near death, I find how neceflary and how beneficial to men the pofi- tive afiertion of Chrift is of the exigence of eter- nity. If I was not fure of this, mere reafon would give me but little fatisfaction upon this queltion : Whether a few hours hence any thing would ( i97 ) would be left of me that retained its life ? — I can likewife tell you, from my prefent experience, that a bad confcience is worfe than death. I now find comfort againft: death, but as long as the former lafted, I had no peace within me. I be- lieve that I mould have become quite hardened, if this wound had not been healed." " I believe you have obferved, that I would not let thofe feniations which were produced by my certainty of being pardoned before God, grow very lively. They might have hindered me in my ftudying to reform my heart, and in examining myfelf. But now I enjoy the comfort of being confcious to have done what I could to pleafe God." In the abovementioned letter to the chamber- lain de Brandt, he had faid that he had become innocently the caufe of his brother's misfortunes. He defired me to explain thefe words to him : " That he, with a ecod intention, had brought his friend Brandt to Copenhagen, and had kept him from withdrawing himfelf when he had a good opportunity for it." Now the door of the prifon opened, for which the Count himfelf never, but I very often, had looked with a fearful expectation. — An officer O 3 came ( 198 ) came in, and defired me, if I pleafed, to ftep into the coach, and to go before the Count to the place of execution. I was much moved and affected. The Count, as if it did not concern him in the leafb, comforted me by faying : * c Make yourfelf eafy, my dear friend, by con- fidering the happinefs I am going to enter into, and with the confcioufnefs that God has made you a means of procuring it for me." I embraced him, recommending him to the love and mercy of God, and haflened to the place of execution. He being foon called after me, got up from his couch, and followed thofe which were to con- duel him. Coming out of the prifon and getting into the coach, he bowed to thofe that were Handing around. Upon the way to the place of execution, he partly fpoke to the officer who was with him in the coach, partly fat in deep medi- tation. As foon as both the condemned were arrived in their refpective coaches near the fcaffold, and Count Brandt had mounted it firft, I got into the coach of Struenfee, and ordered the coach- man to turn about, to prevent his having the profpecl of the fcaffold. " I have ( '99 ) " I have Teen him already,'* faid he. I could not recollect myfelf fo foon, and he finding my uneafinefs, faid, with a fmiling countenance, " Pray do not mind me. I fee you fuffer. Re- member that God has made you an inftrument in my converfion. I can imagine how pleaflng it muft be to you to be confcious of this. I fhall praife God with you in eternity that you have faved my foul." I was ft ill more affected than before, and faid, that I mould look upon this tranfaction of mine as the mod remarkable one during my whole life, fince God had bleffed it with fo felf-rewarding a fuccefs. It was a pleafing thought to me, that we Ihould continue our friendship in a future world.— I fnould have comforted him, but he, in this cafe, comforted me. He defired me then to remember him to feveral of his acquaintance, and to tell fome of them, that if he, by his con- vention and actions, had milled them in their notions of virtue ^and religion, he, as a dying man, acknowledged the injury he had done, begged them to efface thefe impreffions, and to forgive him. After fome filence on both fides, he afked me: " Suppofe God, fince he knows all things, ihould fee that in cafe I had lived longer, I Ihould O 4 not { 200 ) not have kept faithfully to my prefent principles and fentiments -, could that have any influence upon that judgment which I mall foon receive ?" I anfwered, God judges by actions that are committed, not by thofe that are not. He judges men ac- cording as he finds them when they leave this world. He is love itfelf, and has no pleafure in the death of him that dieth. He certainly will not condemn any one who dies in fulfilling thofe conditions under which he has prcmifed his pardon. He then continued : " It is true, I returned late to God, but I know that he who is from eternity, cares not for the length or fhortnefs of time in which man has en- deavoured to pieafe him. Our Saviour fays, without determining any thing relative to this matter, " He that comes to me, I will in no wife caft out •," I therefore will make myfelf eafy that I have kept fo long from God and virtue." On feeing the great number of fpectators, I told him, that among thefe thoufands, were many that would pray to God to have mercy upon him. " I hope fo, faid he, and trie thought pleafes me." He foon after added : i " It C 20 1 ) " It is a folemn fight to fee fo many thou- fands of people together; but what are thefe thoufands, when compared with the whole fum of all God's creatures, 'and how very little ap- pears one fingle man in fuch a comparifon ? Neverthelefs God loves every individual man fo much, that he has procured his falvation by fa- crifking his own fon. What a love is this ! " You fee me, continued he, outwardly, the fame as I find myfelf within." And I perceived, all the while I was fitting with him in the coach, no alteration, but that he was pale, and that it was more difficult for him to think and to converle than it was fome days before, or even this very morning. However, he had his full prefence of mind, knew feveral of thofe that flood about the coach, bowed to many by pulling off his hat, and to fome he bowed with a friendly mien. " My eafe, faid he, is not a forced one. I cannot recollect any caufe from which this eafe arifes, that could difpleafe God. I am not am- bitious to gain the applaufe of men, and I do not promife that I fhall not fhew any uneafinefs upon the fcaffold. I now have difagreeable fen- fations, and I fhall have more there, which I will not endeavour to conceal. But you may be afiured, that my foul will look with calmnefs and ( 202 ) and hope beyond death. And how little is that which I am going to fuffer, when I compare it with the fufferings Chrift bore when he died. Recollect only his words : " My God, my God, why haft thou forfaken me?" and conftder, what fxcruciating pain it muft have caufed him. o hang for feveral hours on the crofs beföpe he died !" I exhorted him again not to fhew any affected fortitude in thefe Jail moments which was not natural to him. Such affectations would cer- tainly difpleafe God, and if he now ftill would mind what the fpectators might think, J muft tell him, that only a few fhort-fighted people would believe his affected firmnefs to be true, I then faid : Chrift prayed for his murderers even on the cröis. May I rely upon your leaving this world with the fame fentiments of love to- wards thofe you might have reafon to think your enemies ? " Firfl, faid he, I hope that there is no one who has a perfonal hatred againft me ; but that thofe who have promoted my misfortunes, have done it with an intent of doing good. Secondly, I look upon myfelf already as a citizen of ano- 2. ther ( 203 ) ther world, and that I am obliged to entertain fentiments conformable to this dignity : and I am fure, that if I was to fee thofe, who might per- haps be my enemies, here v in the blifs of that world which I hope to enter into, it would give me the highefl fatisfaction. I pray to God that if my enemies might repent of their behaviour towards me, this repentance may induce them to look out for that falvation which I promife my- felf through the mercy of God." Though I could not fee the fcaffold, yet I guefTed, from the motion of the fpectators, that it was Struenfee's turn to mount it. I en- deavoured to prepare him for it by a fhort prayer, and within a few moments we were called. He paffed with decency and humble- nefs through the fpectators, and bowed to fome of them. With fome difficulty he mounted the ftairs. When we came up, I fpoke very con- cifely, and with a low voice, upon theie words gf Chrift : " He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet fhall he live. 5 ' It would have been impofiible for me to fpeak much and loud, even if I had attempted it. I obferve here that he fhewed not the lead affectation in his conduct upon the fcaffbld : • I found ( 204 ; found him to be one who knew that he was to die, on account of his crimes, by the hands of the executioner. Pie was pale, it was difficult for him to fpeak, the fear of death was vifible in his whole countenance ; but at the fame time, fubmifiion, calmnefs and hope were expreffed in his air and deportment. His fentence, and afterwards the King's con- firmation of it, ' were read to him ; his coat of arms was publickly ihewn and broken to pieces. During the time that his chains were taking off, I put the following queftions to him : Are you truly forry for ail thofe actions by which you have offended God and men ? " You know my late fentiments on this point, and I afTure you they are this very moment {till the fame." Do yon trufl in the redemption of Chrift, as the only ground of your being pardoned before God ? " I know no other means of receiving God's mercy, and I traft in this alone." Do you leave this world without hatred or malice againft any perfon whatever ? " I hope ( 20 5 ) " I hope nobody hates me perfonally ; and as for the reft, you know my fentiments on this head, they are the fame as I told you jufl before." I then laid my hand upon his head, faying : Then go in peace whither God calls you ! His grace be with you ! He then began to undrefs, and enquired of the executioners how far he v/as to uncover him- felf, and defired them to aflifb him. He then haftened towards the block, that was ftained and ftill reeking with the blood of his friend, laid himfelf quickly down, and endeavoured to fit his neck and chin properly into it. When his hand was cut off, his whole body fell into con- vulfions. The very moment when the execu- tioner lifted up the axe to cut off his hand, I began to pronounce (lowly the words ; '• Re- member Jefus Chriil crucified, who died, but is rifen again.'* Before I had finifhed thefe words, both hand and head, fevered from the body, lay before my feet. # # # # # * How wonderful is God, and how great his care for the falvation of men, that are ftill ca- pable of being faved ! But how different is the judgment we are to pronounce over fuch men, according C 206 ) according to the principles of the kingdom of God, from that which the world pronounces ! If Count Struenfee had remained in his former profperity, and died a natural death, he might have been called a great and enlightened man through all ages, even if he had been at the bottom the greateft villain. The world has feen him die a malefactor ; but the difpofition in which he left the world, will be alufficient inducement for true chriftians to forgive him the ignominy where- with he had flained his life, and to praife God that he died well. COUNT STRUENSEE's OWN ACCOUNT How he came to alter his Sentiments of RELIGION. WRITTEN WITH HIS OWN HAND, ( 2IO ) againft it. You know how indifferent that common inftruction in religion is, which is given in public fchools : yet I was to blame not to have made ufe of the private inftru&ions and example of my parents. Since my fourteenth year, all my time was taken up in ftudying phyfic. If I afterwards fpent much time in reading other books, it was only to divert myfelf, and to extend my knowledge of thole fciences by means of which I hoped to make my fortune. The violence of the paffions which made me abandon myfelf in my youth to all 'eniual pleafures and extravagancies, left me fcarce time to think of morality, much lefs of religion. When experience afterwards taught me how little fatisfaction was to be found in the irregu- lar enjoyment of fuch pleafures, and reflection convinced me that a certain inward fatisfaftion was requifite for my happinefs, fuch as cannot be attained either by the obfervance of parti- cular duties, or by the omifllon of fcandalous excelTes : I therefore endeavoured to imprint in my mind fuch principles as I judged proper to govern my actions, and which I thought would anfwer the end I had in view. But how did I undertake this talk? My memory was filled up with moral principles, but at the fame time, I had C 211 ) had various excufes to reconcile a complying reafon with the weaknefTes and the infirmities of the human heart. My understanding was pre- pofleffed with doubts and difficulties, againft the infallibility of thofe means by which we arrive at truth and certainty. My will was (if not fully determined, yet) fecretly much inclined to comply only with fuch duties, as did not lay me under the necefilty of facrificing my favourite inclinations. Thefe were my guides in my re-> fearches. I took it for granted, that in matters merely relative to the happinefs of man, neither a deep understanding nor wit or learning were required 3 but our own experience and ideas only, of which every one muft be confcious^ were fufficient to find out the truth. The neceflity of avoiding all difagreeable fenfations of pain,' of ficknefs, of reproaches, as well our own as thofe of others, made me think that an exact obfervation of duties towards myfelf and my neighbour, were of the greateft confequence. However, I believed, from the confideration of God and the nature of man, that there were no particular obligations towards the fupreme Being, befides thofe which are derived from the admiration of P 2 his ( 212 ) his greatnefs and the general gratitude on ac- count of our exiftence. The a6tions of man, as far as they are determined by notions pro- duced by natural inftincts, by agreeable or dif- agreeable impreffions of external objects, of education, of cuftom, and the different circum- ftances he is in, appear to me to be fuch, as could in particular inftances neither pleafe nor difpleafe God, any more than the different events in nature, which are founded in its eternal laws. I was fatisfied in obferving that general as well as particular inftances, tended to one point, namely the prefervation of the whole ; and this alone was what I thought worthy of the care of a fupreme Being. My attention therefore was chiefly fixed upon the duties I owed to my neighbours. The obfervance of which would as well promote my outward happinefs, as give me inward fatisfaclion. The defire which every one feels to be vir- lüOÜI, and a natural inclination for actions ufe- ful in fbcicty, induced me to ufe my utmoft en- deavours to acquire a habit of virtue. But how could I find out true virtue, as I did not feek for it, where it was only to be found ? What a difference is there in the opinions of philofo- phers ( 213 ) phers about its nature and its motives ; how con- tradicting is the judgment of men on account of the effects it produces in particular cafes ! Yet thefe were to determine my method of acting, even if God did not judge me, and I iliould refign myfelf up to my conicience, which is fo cafily milled, fo often overpowered by paflions, and lb frequently not to be heard at all. I found at leaft, how eafy it was to deceive our- felves in regard to our fentiments, though they were entirely left to our own judgment. I found on the other fide many that were well Inclined, though they were quite inactive. Thefe and other reflections induced me to think, that vir- tue confuted in nothing elfe, but in actions which are ufeful to fociety, and in a defire of producing them. — Ambition, love of our native country, natural inclination to what is good, a well regulated felf-love, or even the knowledge of religion, when they are confidered as motives of virtu", I looked upon as indifferent things, according as they happened to make different impreflions upon particular perfons. — Reafon and reflection were, in my opinion, the only teachers and regulators of virtue. He is to be counted the moil virtuous whofe actions are the moft ufeful, the moft: difficult to be practifed, and of the moft extenfive influence ; P 3 and ( 214 ) and no one could be blamed who obferved the laws of his country, and the true principles of honour. I thought I had found in the nature of man fufficient powers and fprings to make him vir- tuous. Revealed religion I looked upon as un- neceflary, fince it could only convince men, whole understandings were lefs enlightened, of the obligations of virtue. The effects of religion I never had perceived within me, at leaft I never had regarded them. Its doctrines feemed to contradict all the reft of my notions. Its morals appeared to me too fevere, and I believed I found them full as clear, perfect and ufeful in the writings of phiiofophers. If you add to this, the following doubts: Religion is known but among a fmall part of mankind, — it makes very little impreffion upon the mind, — its abufe has produced a great many fatal confequences, — few of thofe that know it, act agreeably to its» precepts, — but very little hope there is of a future life, — God's mercy will forgive the faults of error and precipitation, — the nature of man contradicts the precepts of religion and oppofes them : — and you will eafily imagine what infer- ences I drew from thence. Reafon, C 215 ) Reafon guided by understanding, fupported by ambition, felf-love, and a natural inclination to what is good, became now the principles which determined my actions. To how many errors and miftakes was I expofed ! I found it not difficult to excufe my favourite paflions, and give myfelf up entirely to the gratification of them. The indulgence of my fenfual defires appeared to me, at the moft, to be only weak- nefs, if they were not attended with bad confequences either to myfelf or to others, and this could be prevented by prudence and circum- fpeclion. I found- that many who pretended to honour and virtue, yet indulged them, and ex- cufed them. The manners of the times permit- ted filently liberties which were condemned only by the too rigid moralift, but were treated with more indulgence and tendernefs by thofe, that are acquainted with the human heart. Con- tinence was in my eyes a virtue produced by prejudice. Whole nations fubfifted without knowing or pracYifing this virtue. It is very humiliating to me, my dear friend, to repeat to you thefe falfe excufes, which ap- pear to me at prefent highly abfurd. However, they will be found adopted by all thofe, that act pot quite thoughtlefly, but attempt to apologize P 4 by ( 216 ) by arguments for the irregularity of their life. How eafy is it in this manner to palliate and to juflify the indulgence of every one of our paftions ? The ambitious man finds in all that he does patriotifm and a laudable ambition; the felf-conceited a noble pride, founded upon merit, and a juflice which he owes to himfelf ; the flanderer a love of truth, and innocent mirth, &c. I hoped to efcape thofe errors by an accurate felf-examination, and an enquiry into the con- fequences of my actions. But how was I able to do this, were it pofiible to anfwer only for their mod immediate coniequences ? Did I not deceive myfelf, in believing that I had the ftrongeft intentions of doing good, and did really as much as I was able to do ? Was it infatua- tion, infenfibility and affectation, when I Mat- tered myfelf to find, firmnefs and tranquillity in my prefent misfortunes ? When I fearched into the caufes of them, I confidered only the poli- tical ones, and how much could I find to excufe- myfelf, if I did but confider the nature of my fituation, and the accidents it was fubject to ? I had but a confufed idea of my moral principles, and I could not reject them, without depriv- ing myfelf of all comfort. My expecta- tions of futurity I before told you : and by C 217 ) by diffipating my thoughts and directing them to other fubjefts, I could more eafily bear my mii- fortunes, and fupport my natural difpofition, as the impreflion, an object makes upon our mind, grows ftronger by conftantly reflecting upon it. In this condition, my dear friend, you found me, and we began our Conferences. You re- member how much I thought myfelf convinced of my principles, how flrongly they were im- printed on my mind, and how much I guarded againft every paffion that could rife within me. However, I found it but juft to enquire into a matter that concerned my happinefs, and which might be of fuch confequence with regard to futurity. An opinion, where the greateit proba- bility amounts to certainty, receives ftill greater by examining that which is oppofite to it. And to anfwer the objections which can be made againft it, requires at leaf! as much attention from us, as we beftowed upon the examination of the arguments which induced us to embrace it. Upon confidering my moral principles, I be- gan immediately to doubt, whether they might not have been the caufe of my miftaking what I 1 chiefly ( 21.8 ) chiefly aimed at, namely, the inward fatisfaction of my actions. I was very fenfible, how much I deferved the reproaches of my own mine} as well as thofe of others, if it was only on ac- count of my unhappy friends, whofe misfortunes greatly affected me. Might it not have been better, to have judged of my actions more by thinking from whence they arofe, than to what they related, and what their confequences were ? How few would my plcafures have been, and how little would my life have been ! However, I fhould now have lefs neceflity for repentance and contrition, though before I muft have had greater conflicts and ftrnggles with myfelf. The times of my fufTering are only altered. If the ßrft had taken place, my troubles would have been fhorter, but now, I feel an uniform and continued feries of difagreeable fenfations. I then fhould have fuffered only myfelf. — And •what fatisfaction have I received of ail which for- tune feemed to promife me ? My pafllons were perhaps gratified, but in fuch a manner as al- ways left a void after them. My wifnes were fatisfied, but the anxiety I was under to preferve my pofleiTions, took away the greateft part of their pleafure. I enjoyed a variety of pleaiures, which by their nature deftroy one another, and are at the moil nothing more than diflipations, 2 I grew ( 2i 9 ) I grew at laft infenfible to the pleafures of life, which is the natural coniequence of being in poffeflion of every thing which can render life eafy and agreeable. I did not enjoy the comforts of friendship and fociety, as the fituation I was in was extremely difilpated, and it required at- tention to a hundred trifles; befides, the impcf- fibility of diverting my thoughts from the little dependance I could place on it, would not admit of any real fatisfaction. Suppofing too, that I even had good intentions, and the lawful means of putting them into practice, and that my faults were only the confequences of inat- tention and natural weaknefs, I mould lofe all the comforts I might derive from the former, by reproaching myfelf on account of the latter. I might have avoided them, by recollecting all their confequences, according to their different relations. However, even this was impoffible when my paflions reprefented to me the danger my own happinefs and that of others was in, and the impofiibility of providing againfl confe- quences which were then at a diftance. When my paffions and my reafon were in op- pofition, and the underftanding was to decide, I might have been always inclined in favour of that fide where the pleafure feemed neareft, and pain ( 220 ) pain at the greateft diftance. Ambition and felf- love, and the influence our aftions have upon one another are eafily explained, and in their appli- cation, found fufficient to anfwer their purpofes. I could not now deny but that my principles were not capable of procuring me moral tran- quillity, that my paflions had been the chief iprings of all my actions, and that no other comfort remained for me, but that which is derived from the inconftancy of human affairs. I might be indebted to my principles for my fuccefs in life, and my activity : but I muft reject them, if they induced me to commit an action which deferves reproaches, and which dcftroys my inward happinefs. I was ready to give up my former principles as foon as I could difcover better. I faw that they were liable to two objections. My way of judging of the morality of my actions from their relations and coniequences, was neither fafe nor certain. My arguments in favour of virtue, might be equally applicable to juftify the gratification of my paflions, as to con- troul them. They were not fufficiently ftrong in their effects, and were alfo liable to be mifinterpreted, when my paflions became too impetuous, Confcience, the inward fenfe of what ( 221 ) what is good or bad, and the fear of God, feemed not to obviate this difficulty. I found fufficient reafons to dilallow them, and my fenfuality would not permit me to feel their impreffion. Should thefe have taught me how to ad with propriety and juftice in all circum'tances, and to make mylelf eafy, though the confequences, the opinion of men, and the reproaches of my friends had been againft me ? No doubt. But then -my actions fhould have been derived from my fentiments, and thefe mould havo had a cer- tain fixed rule to direct them, to prevent me from falling into error. 'o I perceived my miftake, that I had placed vir- tue in actions only, without regard to their inten- tions, and by this I had loft what I was perfu- ing, inward contentment. Geliert fhewed me the means by which I might have avoided it. Jerufalem convinced me what ftrength and af- fiftance true devotion furnifhes us with. Rei- marus removed the doubts I had, that God did not concern himfelf with the moral actions of men. I will not repeat the feries of meditations, which convinced me of the truth of what thefe excellent writers teach us. I fhall only repeat a few ( 222 ) few of them, and thofe only which made the" ftrongeft imprefilon upon me. Was it not the love of fenfual pleafures, which made me deny that truth, which my reafon afifented to, and reprefented other objects and falfe notions as matters of confequence? — Is there more fafety and wifdom, where I find fimple principles, which may be practifed with clearnefs in all cafes without exception, or there, where the variety of opinions, and the conditions which are innumerable, require more time for enquiring than action ? If the moral diftinction between virtue and vice, is not to be founded on the intentions, none can pretend to virtue* at leaft, it does not depend upon our own will-. The prudent, the cautious, the crafty, the hy- pocrite mail then be virtuous •, the fimple, the carelefs, the unhappy, the fincere mail then be called wicked. My inward fatisfaction will de- pend on the opinion of others and on accidents, if I cannot judge of my intentions by fome fixed rules. It is a very narrow notion to think that trie univerfe taken together, is only worth the atten- tion of the fuprerne Being. We know that knowledge ( 223 ) knowledge and a combination of many parti- cular events and operating caufes, which all tend to one end, produce actions of the greateft moral confequence to fociety. It is beyond man's capacity to reprefent to his mind thefe things at once. He lofes the fight of the whole, by ex- amining the parts feparately. Fie is therefore obliged to fix his attention only upon thofe caufes which are neareft and mod fenfible in their effects. Thofe which are more remote he mud leave to chance, or which is the fame thing, he mull fuppofe, that they will not fail of their end, though they are not in his power. But let us go further. He that views the moft remote poffible event at one view, and knows how to direct every one of them to anfwer his particular defign, and to remove with the greateft facility the obltacles which are in his way, deferves undoubtedly the name of a great man. The more regularity and harmony he can give to every part, the more can he de- pend upon the event. It muft be difpleafing, if he cannot effect this. The faults of fmgle fol- diers cannot be pleafing to a good general in time of action if he perceives them, and he needs mult difcover them. Many little irregularities render the whole imperfect. We overlook them, becaufe our abilities will not permit us to do ( 224 ) do otherwiie, and we are ufed to defpife what we cannot attain to for want of power. But it is abfurd to apply this manner of reafonino- to God, and to believe that he follows cur example, and takes care of the whole without attending to particular imperfections. That pofition : God has regulated the whole in fuch a manner, that the particular irregularities of men are of no confequence, and therefore indifferent to him, is founded upon this principle ; that man acts always according to a fatal necefllty. God therefore will certainly obferve, how far every individual acts by his free-will confiftently with his determination. Univerfal happinefs cannot take place unlefs every one contributes towards it. It is no argument, that God has difpenfed fuch a number of good things in nature, and the inftincts of man are fo various, that every one may be happy. Others generally fuffer and are made uneafy when our pofTefiions encreafe, and our enjoyments are great. Therefore the defire of encreafing our happinefs in this manner, is inconfiftent with our determination. The in- creafe of our moral perfections can take place without detriment and for the benefit of the whole. The fmalleft tranfgrefr.on in this relpect muft t 225 ) mufl: be difpleafing to God. What äpologleä can we make ? Perhaps fuch as a courtier makes when he deceives his mailer to ferve his friend, or a minuter of ilate when he lofes fight of the public good to ferve his own private in- terefl. It is owing to pride and prejudice in favour of our own internal ftrength, when we hope to be virtuous through our own powers. We com- monly perceive in objects before us what we want to fee. It is impofiible to have all thofe ideas prefent in our mind which are required to drawjuft conclufions. We find thofe foonell which anfwer our purpofes. The cool philofo- phcr finds frequently that to be falfe, which he took for granted before he begun his inquiries. And fince all this is moil certain, how eafy mufl it be for us to convince ourfelves, how uncertain our way of reafoning is, when it concerns things which we earneftly de fire, and when the queflion is, whether we mail allow or refufe ourfelves the enjoyment of them. A lively impreflion, which prefents us with the arguments ori both fides, is the only means to keep us from error. Q How ( 226 ) How many difagreeable moments did thefe reflexions caufe me! They were fufficient to convince me how much I had erred from what I was ftriving for; how little I had acted ac- cording to the true end of my nature, and how much I was to blame. I felt with pain, that I had followed falfe principles and narrow pre- judices. You know, how much I was con- cerned for the misfortune of thofe perfons with whom I had been connected. Nothing was now left me, but to endeavour to lefTen the uneafinefs I felt, fince I found myfelf the only caufe of it. But my pain became more violent, whenever I confidered my fituation from that fide, where it made the greateft impreffion upon me. The many confequencesof my vices, and the thoughts that I had offended God, mod deeply affected me. However, my former turn of thought made me miftruft, whether my prefent fentiments were not perhaps more a confequence of my pre- fent fituation of mind, than of the conviction of my underftanding. The uncertainty I was under concerning the nature of my foul and its im- mortality, prevented me from giving my full affent. Bonnet anfwered all my doubts as far as mere reafon can arrive at any certainty. I could not ( 227 ) not deny that my prefent difpofition of mind, if I compared it with a former one, was better adapted to enquire after truth and to find it out. Before, I ufed to pafs over every thing which oppofed my paffions, and found good what they defired : but I was now more inclined to be cautious and miftruftful, and it is a great thing to acknow- ledge our faults. The more I confidered my former doubts, the lefs reafon I had to think them to be of any confequence. I examined every particular argument in favour of my former opinion : but at laft I was obliged to own with Geliert, that if all that we know from reafon, of God, of our foul, and our moral happinefs was uncertain, truth muft be folly, and error mull be wifdom. You know, my dear friend, how much thefe truths increafed my uneafinefs : I faw continually new obje&s, which hitherto had remained undif- covered, on account of the livelinefs of the firft impreflions. The indifference I had to any fixed principles, my neglect of every fingle obligation» my remifihefs in doing good, when I had oppor- tunity or abilities for it, the mifchief which my example, and the propagating of my principles might do, the difpleafure of God which my tranfgrefiions muft draw upon me ; all thefe cir- Q^2 cumftance* ( 228 ) cumftances united produced in me the greateft -anxiety. And how could I leflfen the anxiety iuch reflexions occafioned me ? I took the refolution to act according to that truth which I had found. I had a lively fenfe of my former tranfgreffions, but from whence could I derive the hopes of re- pairing what was done, or burying it in oblivion ? It is uncertain whether good intentions will al- ways be equally flrong \ perhaps new inticements and the errors of my understanding may over- power them. The thought which is directed to- wards God, the fentiments, confcience, and the recollection of its reproaches can be weakened. Virtue cannot prevent vice from being hurtful, much lefs can it repair the damage which is done. Time, opportunities and former Situations were loft to me, and but little comfort was left me from this view. When I reflected on the idea which reafon afforded me of God, I had but little hopes to flatter mylelf that my fins would be forgiven. If I attempted to form the moft favourable idea of God's mercy, that he would confider the weak- nefs and imperfection of human nature, I fa w at the fame time his jufticeand immutability, which were directly contrary to this idea. The confequences of actions happen in the moral world as they do in the natural, according to certain fixed rules. To thefe fettled laws God leaves the fate of man, and ( 22 9 ) end his fate depends >.ipon himfelf, fince he ac"ls with liberty. Experience teaches us Efficiently that no exception is to be made to this rule. Every crime and every tranfgreflion carries its punifh- ment along with it. Perhaps no inftance can be produced which would not convince us of the truth of this affertion, if we eftimate man's hap- pinefs according to what he feels within himfelf, and not according to the general notions we have of good fortune. The irregularity and variety of our paßions are evils, and the painful confeiouf- nefs of the crimes we have committed never leaves us. Will God produce good out of evil, to remove the misfortunes which our fins brought upon us, and which are a proof of his difplea- fure ? Of thefe truths I always have been convinced, but I looked upon them as neceffary evils con- nected with our fate, which would ceafe with this life, even if they could be called a kind of pu- nimment. I could diminifh the lively impreflion of thefe evils by a firmnefs of foul, by coolnefs of mind acquired by practice, and a contem- plation of the evils themfelves, without fancying them greater than they really are. Patience, I fancied, might make us indifferent about them, and difiipation make us entirely forget them. Q. 3 Su P- ( 230 ) Supported by thefe confiderations, I fubmitted to my misfortunes, fince I could not avoid them, and they appeared to me in this light lefs terrible. We are apt to fuppofe an old erroneous tenet to be true, as we are apt to believe an often repeated falihood. That hope which makes death the end of all our misfortunes, requires the greateft firm- nefs and indifference to fupport it. You know thofe reafbns which ferve to infpire us with com- fort in regard to a future life, agreeably to my former principles, and confidering eternity in the view I did. However, the uncertainty of all this •would have cccafioned the greateft uneafinefs, even at a time when I mould not have been diffi- dent of my own ftrength. The continuation of my moral enquiries did not decreafe this. Remembrance will be an efTential matter, whereby my future ftate is to be connected with my prefent one. How fhould I obliterate the memory of thefe reproaches which torment me now ? how mould I regulate my fentiments ? Every thing renewed the confeiouf- nefs of my former reproaches, and I was fo ac- cuftomed to my way of thinking, that it would, perhaps, be ftill more difficult to leave it, than any other cuftom I have been ufed to. I found this to be the fact j for my underftanding, 5 though t 231 ) though convinced, yet thought, doubted, apolo- gized, and faw a poflibility of my not being in the wrong. The repeating of thofe reflexions which had fhewn me my errors, brought me back to truth : however, I could not arrive at anv certainty in regard to a future life, and the confequences of my tranfgrefllons with refpect to the Deity. The truths of revealed reli- gion did not yet make any imprefiion upon my mind. You gave me the Hiftory of the three laft Years of the Life of Chrift ; I read it, and how excellent did I find the doctrines it contained ! Its moral principles are fimple, clear, and adapted to every fituation in life. Whoever knows how difficult it is to reduce a fcience to general principles, cannot obferve this without furprize, even if he confiders Chrift only as a mere man. I was alhamed to find here again what I formerly had forgot, and afterwards believed it to be owing to feveral books of morality I had read. I was convinced that the fpirit of revenge was wrong, but I did "not remember that Chrift had ever forbid it. The love of our enemies had never before been taught us, and it appeared to me contradictory to our nature. I vvifhed to be convinced, not only of this chriftian duty, but Q.4 of ( 232 .) of all the other principles of Chrifl's doctrine, Thofe objections which were made againfl ChriO; on account of his birth, his education in Egypt, and the inftruction he received in the fciences "which were taught by the Jews, made me ima- gine that his doctrine was more than human.. How could he be above the prejudices of edu- cation and inftruction ? how could he teach things quite contrary to them ? There is nothing contra- dictory in his doctrines or in his actions. We can ealily convince ourfclves of this, if we only avoid judging according to our own manners, cuftoms and prejudices. Not to get acquainted with the Gofpel becaufe Chrift was a Jew, is the fame in reality as if one mould object to read the writings of Mendelfon *, becaufe he is a Jew. The life of Chrift, pubiifhed at Zurich, delivers the hi- ftory in a modern ftlle, and in an uninterrupted connexion. Though the manner of writing, and the exprefllons ufed by the facred penmen, were not fuch as I greatly objected to, yet they have prevented me from reading ferious enquiries on the facred writings, lince I uled to read moftly thofe books which were written againft them. Mofes Mendelfon is a learned Jew, now .living at 'Berlin. He has acquired great reputation by his philofo- phical writings. Some mention is made of him in the Cri- tical Review, vol. xxxiv. p. 223. A divine ( 233 ) A divine revelation had appeared to me unne- ceffary, its hiftorical evidence dubious, and the facts related Teemed to be very improbable. I now began to be convinced of the neceflity of a divine revelation •, for many reaibns, and in parti- cular the neceflity of finding out ftro.nger motives for virtue than thofe which realbn only fupply us with, would no longer let me doubt of it. Bonnet and Lefs proved to me the poffibility and credibility of the miracles. Wefi might have been fully fufficient to have convinced me of the truth of (Thrift's refurreclion, but you know I examined all the reft of the arguments. I be- lieved many facts which are taught in natural philoibphy, where I could not difcover the caufe and its effects ; why did I doubt of the poffibi- lity of miracles, when the defign intended by them is fo clear ? Certainly there was no other reafon, but becaufe I was not inclined to it. I am now as fure of the facts the truth of a divine reve- lation is founded upon, as if I law them before me. When a number of credible witneffes agree in things in which our fenfes are only concerned, 1 am as much convinced of them, as if I knew them from my own experience. It was neceflary for me to attain the higheft degree of certainty in this refpect, in order to remove all doubts which now and then perplexed my underftanding ; and I praife ( 234 ) I praife God, with a lively fenk of gratitude, that I have met with fuccefs. You know, my dear friend, with what a dif- pofition of heart I began thefe enquiries. My former principles taught me to guard againft every violent affection. Ufe, the nature of my em- ployments, and the manner in which I rofe to my former profperity, had procured me a habit of acting in alicircumitances with coolntfs. I found I had reafon to be apprehenfive, that in one point tendernefs would get the better of my un- derflanding, and this was friendfhip. This only made me ienfible of the fituation I was in -, for neither the pofiefiion nor the lofs of my former profperity affected me much. I was always upon my guard againft my fancy, and for this very raafon I avoided reading poets and other authors that could inflame it. I was often doubtful about my opinions and miftrufted them, but when I once had adopted them as true, I avoided further enquiry and change, becaufe they pre- vented my putting them in practice. My obfti- nacy, and my indefatigable purfuit of the fame object, together with the coolnefs I acted with, have contributed much to my profperity and my misfortune, and they might have been the caufe of making me lofe everlafting happinefs, if the many ( ns ) many proofs which I have heard and read of it, had not recovered me from my error. The examination of the hiftorical arguments of divine revelation with care and precaution, has fatisfied and convinced me. Being certain of this, it was an eafy matter for me to remove all my other doubts. I was certain there mud be flronger arguments to convince us, than thofe which mere reafon furnifhes us with. A proper degree of felf-love, honour, and love of virtue, are liable to fo many explanations, our under- ftanding can fo eauly be impofed upon, and our will is with fomuch difficulty reftrained, from con- fidering the object only from the point of view in which it is molt agreeable. Nothing can have greater effect upon our conduct than a habit of devotion, and though I thought religion always ufeful for this purpofe, I neverthelefs believed, that a fufficient knowledge of our duty, and a defire of acting conformably to it, were at all times fufficient motives for being virtuous. I found the origin of religious ceremonies in the natural fears and infirmities of men -, I faw how much the many revolutions which have happened, have increafed them, and what influence the manners, cuftoms, and ways cf thinking of nations had had upon them. This This confideration made me acknowledge with gratitude, the excellence of chriflianity^ whofe ceremonies are fo clear and well founded. We accüftöm burfelves to thofe things which we fee daily ; we perceive how they happen, but are unacquainted with their remote caufes, which, at 3aft, lofe all their effect. For this very reafon the idea of the exigence of a God, and his pro- vidence over all things, is fo little difcoverable in our actions. Our internal fehfations, confei- ence, and the contemplation of nature, feldorh carry us fo far back as to make any alteration in our moral conduct. The will of God, in regard to our happinefs, remains doubtful to our rea- fon, as long as it is left to the decifion of our underftanding. The various revelations in the Old Teftament, prophecies, lavys, and remark- able punjm merits, could be looked upon as irri- poftures of men, and as things which arofe from natural caufes : but fmce Chrift has come into the world, and told us that his doctrine v/as the will of God, and that he was fent to inftruct us, and that he himfelf v/as the true God •, no further excufe remains for our ignorance and error. Every one to whom the opportunity is offered, and who will accept of it, can eafily convince himfelf of its truth. An ( 237 ) An unexceptionable evidence is ascertain as our own experience, and whoever wants the latter teftimony, may confider the prefent ftate of the Jews, who are living witneffes of the truth of Chrift's prophecies. No perfecution, oppref- fion and contempt could ever induce this people to mix with other nations, and to adopt their manners and cuftoms. The wonders by which Chrift has confirmed his divine million can be proved wi h the fame certainty. They were performed without any preparations, without any circumftances that might have impofed upon the fenfes, without any previous expectation, be- fore a number of incredulous fpectators, in fuch a manner that no impofition can pcfiibly be fuf- pected. They were befides of fuch a nature that every man of common underftanding might per- ceive, that thole means which were made ufe of never could produce fuch effects. A man, born blind, recovered his fight; one that had lain four days in the grave, came to life again ; a pa- ralytic was reftored to health again ; — and all this by only fpeaking a word. If we were to fbp- pofe that in the regular courje of nature fuch a tiling was to happen jufl: at this time, or that God produced thefe events by the interppfition of almighty power, it follows, in the firft inftance, that Chrift mnft have been informed of it before*, £ and, < 2 3 8 ) and, in the fecond, that God heard him. Both which are equally a miracle, and a proof of his divine miffion. As foon as I was convinced of this •, nothing remained, but to examine whether the doctrine which he preached, and we are to believe, con- tained any thing that contradicted reafon. He wifhes me to be happy and to be virtuous ; to feek for my happinefs not in fenfual pleafures and in the gratification of my paffions ; to love God above all things, and to deal with my neighbour as I wifli to be dealt with myfelf. He enjoins me to believe that there is -another life after this, where the condition I mail be in will depend on the fentiments and actions of this prefent life -, that without the afiiftance of God I am unable either to think or act virtuoufly ; that God will do nothing extraordinary for me, to remove the fatal confequences of my tranfgreflions, which I have to fear in a future life ; that God has fent. him to give me the moil undoubted affiirance of his juftice, and his immutability: but that this, at the fame time, is the greateft proof of his love towards me, fince through him I am made ac- quainted with the fureit way of becoming accept- able to the Supreme Being. — All this is very confiftent with reafon. But ( 239 ) But Chrift commanded me bcfiues, to believe that he was very God and very man, and the fon of God ; and that in the divine nature the Fa- ther, Son and Holy Ghoft are one. This Teemed to contradict all my notions which I hitherto had entertained. But I knew that the word of Chrift was always truth, that he mud be fully ac- quainted with thefe myfteries, and that I had not the leaft reafon to imagine, he would require of me to believe any thing that was contradictory to reafon. It might be above my underftanding-, but how many things do we meet with in the courfe of nature, whofe exiftence we cannot deny, without being able to explain why they are io, and how they are connected with their caufes ? 1 thought myfelf obliged to believe thefe myfte- ries upon the word of Chrift-; neverthelelefs I con- fidered them with great attention, without find- ing them con trad ictory. God might reveal him- felf unto us in a different manner from that he had hitherto made ufe of, though our reafon was un- able to explain it. God choie for this the lan- guage of men, and thofe figns by which we com- municate our ideas to each other. The very God who fpoke through Chrift, was the fame who made himfelf known to us as Father and Holy Ghoft. It cannot be denied that God, when we confider his nature as well as his attribute';, could not ( 240 ) not be able to produce various effects at the fame time, without our being obliged to believe that' his effence is divided. It therefore was the Su- preme Being, which reafon teaches us to be one, that operated through Chrift, though it only ap- peared under a human form, and made itfelf known to us, fince we ourfelves could not per- ceive it by our fenfes. We are ufed to apply more common notions to lefs known objects, in order to explain more exactly the idea we have of them. This has recalled to my mind the idea of gravity, which in different bodies operates diffe- rently, though the power itfelf is always the fame. I have not found any thing contradictory in this idea of the Trinity, notwithstanding that I have reflected upon this fubject with great ac- curacy, and in more different views than I have done here. In the fame manner I have found nothing- contradictory in Chrift's making known unto us God as Father and Holy Ghoft. Kovv eafily can we fall into errors if any one wants to give us an idea of a thing unknown to us, by comparing it with another we are ac- quainted with. I dare not apply, in fuch cafes, every little idea annexed to the object, to the other which I want to explain it by. If I was to tell an Indian, that the water in our climate grows ( 241 ) grows fometimes as hard as ftone, and he mould then think that ice might be made red hot, and be ufed for materials to build a houfe, he would think fbmething very abfurd. Chrift has (hewn us God under the character of a Father, in order to compare his love towards his fon under a figure that was known to us. A philofophical deicription would not have cleared it up better. But if we were to apply to God every thing that falls under the notion of a father, we mould be liable to the fame miftake of the Indian. In the fame manner we can conceive how Chrift, the Son of God, was born from his Father. From all eternity God would make himfelf known to us by Chrift, and the word, beget l , conveyed to us the beft idea of this myfterious tranfa&ion within the Deity. We can likewife form an idea of that rela- tion which fubfifts between the Father and Chrift, by thinking him the Son of God ; we are only to feparate thofe ideas which reafon teaches us not to be applicable to God. The Son has his eiTence of the Father, and it is the fame with that the Father has ; he loves him, and what is his is likewife the Son's. Laftly, Chrift promifes, that after his depar- ture, the fpirit of God mould confirm thefe truths which he had taught. This was done in R a vifible ( 242 ) a vifible manner by thofe gifts which the Apoftks received, and he continues to operate upon thofe who obferve the doctrines of Chrift, and, by fo doing, are capable of making good refolutions, and of thinking and of acting as it pleafes God. God has now revealed himfelf in a threefold manner, and every one of them reprefents him to me as the author and promoter of my happinefs. We are ufed to exprefs compound ideas with a fingle word, to avoid prolixity. For this reafon, the word, perfon, was made ufe of in the doctrine of the Trinity. If I now find a con- tradiction, when I fay, " There is one God, but three perfons in him," the fault is then in my underftanding-, its notions are not juft, it com- bines the common notions of God and of a per- fon in a ftrange and improper manner. If I was to oppofe the doctrine of the Trinity, I mould act like the Indian who would not believe the exift- ence of ice, becaufe he was told that it would melt and turn into water again in the fummer and by the fire. I reflect on Chrift's redemption, to which my underftanding has no objection. I am convinced how necefTary it is for my happinefs to know, that my actions are not indifferent to God : and now I am afliired, with all hifcorical certainty, that Chrift ( 243 ) Chrift lived, and was proved to be intimately connected with the Deity, by performing fuch actions as cannot be explained by natural caufes. He allures me of his friendfhip, and I cannot con- ceive what advantage could arife to him, or what intention he could have to deceive me. I am inclined to believe my friend in a matter, where his former tranfactions have convinced me that his knowledge is fuperior to mine, if my under- ftanding finds nothing contradictory in it. Chrift tells me, that he knows the will of God, and that God himfelf fpeaks to me through him, which certainly is the bed way to learn his will. The doctrines he inculcates agree with thofe which my own reafon teaches to be necelTary for my happinels ; and I was fenfible how eafily I could mifapply theie doctrines, if I did not al- ways remember, that God faw my actions. What- ever determined me formerly to act in fuch a manner as my own happinefs required, I owed to other caufes and intentions, and why mould I not have interpreted the actions and kindnefs of Chrift in, the fame manner? He recalls to my memory whatever I know from political and na- tural hiftory, and exprefly aflures me that extra- ordinary events were defigned for this purpofe. He fums up all thefe together in this fmgle pro- pofition : God loves man as a father. Now God R 2 lhews ( 244 ) fliews himfelf as a friend. Chrift is defpifed and looked upon as an impoftor, though he teaches nothing but the manner in which we may become happy, and performs actions which are beneficial to men. To convince me more fully of his fin- cerity, he gives me the grcateft proof of his friendfhip : he fuffers death in confirmation of a truth, of which was I not certain, and did not confirm it accordingly, I could not be happy. God, with whom Chrift is clofely connected, permits all this. Can I now ever doubt that God's providence extends to me ? I know from reafon that the regularity in my conduct: muft be pleafing to God, and that it is impofiible for me to act agreeably to it, if I had not a lively idea of God's omniprefence. I know him now in the character of father and friend, and under both thefe denominations always fhall reprefent him to me. Chrift enjoins me in particular to believe in him, and to remember his love towards me, and really without this I mould not be able to per- form my duty. The more I reflect on thefe truths which he has taught me, the more I find how far I am from living in a manner that would pleafe God. Should I not be extremely forry for having offended a friend whom I neglected, and * ( 245 ) and would not know ? I was uncertain whether 'there might be a future life, and whether the con- fequences of my offences could have any influence upon it. Chrifl promifes me, that God will avert thefe evils, if I place an unreferved confi- dence in his friendfhip. — I am eafy with regard to what is pafled, however I know how foon a pre- fent idea effaces a former one : and this is the cafe when I ftrongly defire what I mould deny myfelf. The doctrine of (Thrift informs me of this likewife. The fpirit of God will revive thefe doctrines within me, if I make myfelf well ac- quainted with them, and conftantly endeavour to put them into practice. There is nothing in my reafon that could pre- vent me from being fully convinced, that thefe means Chrift teaches me, are the only ones that can render me virtuous and acceptable to God. It is my own fault if I do not receive and make ufe of them ; for I then refufe to be happy. God will not, for my own fake, interrupt thofe regu- lations he has made in regard to future life. I mult feel the bad confequences of my neglect, and of the vain hopes which I placed in God's mercy. I am obliged to him that he has made himfelf known to me in fo extraordinary a man- ner. I could not even expect to deferve the H 3 happy ( ^6 ) happy confequences c»f the refolution I had made of obeying Chrift's precepts -, fince, with- out the perpetual afliftance of the Spirit of God, I am unable to obey them, and fince, notwith- ilanding this afliftance, I fo frequently neglect and forget them. This is entirely confiftent with the doctrine of Chrift. I always believe thefe three but one God, and the idea I have makes the Trinity not different Deities. All this is conformable with my reafon. However, I dürft not hope, con- fidering God and myfelf, that this Supreme Being would be fo merciful as to teach me how, according to the fentiments of my own under- ftanding, I could be happy. Full of gratitude and confcious of my being unworthy, I adore ir, and mall never defift to adore and praife the mercy, fhewn to me through Chrift. I was greatly affected when I read the life of Chrift. It increafed my pains, and gave me new ones. But I was afraid it was owing to my diipofition of mind, becaufe I was ftill full of doubts. The examination of the truth of the chriftian religion became more agreeable to me, the more I advanced in it. My reafon was fatis- fied with it, but I did not find thofe inward feelings a ( 247 ) feelings, which, as I had heard, were connec- ted with true chriftianity, according to the confuted notions of fome people. Spalding's book fet me right in this point. I found here how difficult it is to get rid of opinions and fentiments which are become a fecond nature, though I was convinced that they were falfe and deftructive. My doubts arofe contrary to my wifhes, and I did not pafs them over before I had examined them feparately, and had fre- quently reflected on the arguments for the truth ef religion. The application of its doctrines produced with- in me a lively repentance, forrow, fhame, and fentiments of humility. Without anxiety or fear I expected the comfort which the Gofpel promifed me. To regulate my fentiments agree- able to its precepts, was my chief employment. The perpetual remembrance of the greatnefs of God's mercy, which was fhewn to me by the redemption of Chrift, made me overcome thofe difficulties I found arofe from my natural dif- pofition. The pleafure of finding a happinefs, which I hitherto had wilfully renounced, could not produce in me a lively joy, becaufe I remembered that I had been feeking it formerly in a manner that could not pleafe God. It was R 4 impoffible ( 248 ) impoflible to make myfelf perfectly eafy. I was prevented from this, by the thought that if I had formerly entertained my prefent fentiments, I might have thereby excited thofe perfons, with whom I had been moil intimate, to enquire after the fame happinefs. Now I am praying to God that he may do it, and I am perfuaded he will, fince Chrift has promifed it. Prayer takes away the uneafinefs I have on this and other points, which are difagreeable for me to remember. I direct my thoughts to God, repeat the doc- trines of the Gofpel, reflect on their connexion, apply them to myfelf, and if I addrefs myfelf to God in prayer in the name of my Redeemer for thefe mercies, I find that thefe contribute to render me eafy, and I admire with gratitude the power of religion. I fee now how little a chriftian deferves the reproach of being felf-interefted. He prays, and receives no reward, but by endeavouring to pleafe God, when he regulates his fentiments according to his precepts. If God hears him, he acknowledges with gratitude, that the doc- trine of Chrift procured him the means for it, he remembers his own weaknefs and praifes the afliftance ot God. No blind confidence in God's mercy, nor the hope of the happinefs of 5 a ( 249 ) a future life, inflame his imagination, which regulates itfelf after the difpofuion the mind is in. Bonnet and Lav at er conducted me gra- dually to hopeful profpects of eternity, but I rather perule the writings of Spalding, Alberti y and others of this kind. The remembrance how indefatigable I had been for many years together, in collecting and prattifing my former principles, obliged me to keep a watch- ful eye over myfelf, for fear they might infenfibly have an influence upon my new fentiments. How earneftly do 1 wifh to efface the impreffion which I have made upon others. I never intended to pro- pagate my principles, though I never denied them. I have reafon to lament a crime, which I muft be alhamed to own even before a world that thinks as I did formerly \ and I feel on this account, a more lively fenle of thofe tranfgref- fions which I have committed againft God. My fenfe of friendfhip and humanity always re- calls to my mind the bad example, and the feduction by which I have contributed to make others look upon fenfual pleafures as the chief end of our exiftence. Nothing that relates to my prefent fituation difturbs me, except this and other reflections of this kind. To terror and a fear that deprives us of the ufe of reafon, I always ( 2 5 ) I always have been almoft a flranger. Death was not terrible to me, fince I looked upon it as acon- fequence of natural caufes, and a fate that is un- avoidable. At prefent nothing appears dread- ful to me, fmce I know that I depend upon God, and am convinced of the truth of reli- gion, and expect a happy eternity. I praife God fincerely, that I arrived at this conviction, and I acknowledge it with a lively fenfe of gratitude, that you, my dear friend, have conducted me to it. You chofe the only method which fuits the difpofition of my mind. Rhetorical figures and declamations would have had but little effect upon me. Suppofe you had endeavoured to enfiame my imagination and paßions, my principles would foon have com- peted them again. The doctrines of religion I always remembered; for in the earlier days of my life I had frequently read the Bible, though with ideas quite different from thofe I entertain at prefent. Scripture exprefiions were familiar to me, and I afterwards had contracted habits to connect them with all the doubts and opinions which correfponded with my principles. Before my underflanding was convinced that they were falfe, you could not expect that I mould fincerely believe the truth of revelation. I foon difcovered ( 251 ) difcovered my tranfgreflion of moral duties - t but you know, and I have told you how much felf* denial it coft me, to acknowledge my errors. My pride would fain animate me to conquer the fear of eternity like any other fear. My de fire of being as happy in this world as pofiible, had taught me to defpife every kind of danger, and this arofe more . from a cool reflection on the latter, than from a lively fenfe of happinefs. Truth only could bring me back, and you left me to my own refearches to difcover it. You pro- pofed to me, only thofe confequences which my turn of thought and actions could have in regard to fuch of my friends, as were concerned in my fate as well as I was in theirs. I was on this account always much affected, and this alone could put my mind in agitation. However, it could not have difpofed me to embrace religion, if I had not clearly feen its truth; and I am convinced I ihould have em- braced it before this time, if its evidence had ever been laid before me, and taught me in the manner you did. I found in religion what I wifhed for, and what I thought I dürft not hope for. I knew its truths only under certain images and expreffions, to which I at laft familiarized myfelf fo much, that I forgot to combine any ideas with them. The firft indruction can ? be ( 252 ) be effected only by fenfible reprefentations, but I ufed them afterwards for railing doubts againft religion ; and this prevented me from expecting thofe comforts from it which I fought for. I had two reafons for not examining more minutely the arguments for religion. You know the objections commonly made againft the credi- bility of fupernatural events and miracles. I was not acquainted with Lefs and Bonnet, and the ob- jections appeared ro me unanfwerable. When on the other hand I reflected on the redemption of Chrift, it feemed to contradict all my notions. To fhew to man the love and juflice of God in a ftronger light, redemption is commonly repre- fented thus : That God was angry on account of the fins of men, but loved them to fnch a degree that he was defirous of pardoning them. But this could not be effected without the death of his only begotten Son, who is God himfelf. The notions which I had of God, excited on this point particularly my attention, and it feemed hard to me to reconcile the neceffity of redemp- tion with them. I afked : Cannot God forgive without this ! I was puzzled when I confidered redemption only in relation to God. But as foon as you taught me to reflect on it, in re- lation to man, you removed all my doubts, I found ( 253 ) found the neceflity and the greatnefs of God's mercy in giving his own Son to make men happy. As to practical chriftianity, it always has offen- ded me to find fo many whofe ientiments and acti- ons fo little correfponded to their pretended faith, and fenfe of truth. I difcovered the effects of fancy and felf-deceit, fince they were fatisfied to have avoided fenfual extravagancies, abandon- ing themfelves on the other fide, under pretence of zeal for religion, to pride, envy, and a fpirit of perfecution. This abufe reprefented to me religion as an impofture, which had always been more hurtful to human fociety, than all irregular enjoyment of fenfual pleafures. Imagination overlooks the means, and when it employs its powers with too much vivacity on the ob- ject, frequently through want of attention chufes the wrong ones. To apply the truth of religion carefully to onefelf, to be honeft and comply with the duties of our fituation in life, I think mod neceffary to entitle a man to the name of a chriftian. In this view I have wrote this with pleafure. I fubmit it, my dear friend, to your judgment, and leave it to you to make that ufe of it which you think bed. April the 23d, 1772. STRUENSEE. THE HISTORY O F Count Enevold Brandt, During the Time of his Imprisonment until his Death. WRITTEN BY The Reverend D. HEE. ADVERTISEMENT. The public may rely on the authenticity of the following account. It is beyond a doubt that D. Hee drew it up, and publifhed it himfelf for reafons which he mentions in the courfe of his narration. If the dotlor fhould not anfwer the expectations we might have of him as a writer, the tranflator hopes, that his character as an honefl man, and as a well- meaning divine, together with the fubjecl of the narrative, will make fome amends for it. THE HISTORY O F Count Enevold Brandt, &c. ^pHE fentiments and the conduct of the un- **■ happy Count Brandt, during the time of his imprifonment, were quite different from what they were in his profperity, in which he offended all well inclined people. His behaviour was very edifying to thofe that had an opportunity of converfmg with him, in the latter part of his life, and who have fincerity enough to own, that he was very much humbled, and that the words of our Saviour to St. Peter were appli- cable to him* when he fays : ' When thou arc S con- ( s 5 8 ) converted, ftrengthen thy brethren.' He {hewed himfelf in this character to all the officers that had the watch over him. Since he was made prifoner of ftate, and even now after his death, many unjuft, and, God knows, very untrue reports have been ipread, as if his repentance had been hypocrify, and his fortitude and chearfulnefs when he died, temerity and prefumption. I have always con- tradicted fuch reports, and I do it now. Since I am fully convinced of the contrary, my con- fcience will not permit me to keep filence, but rather to declare, that the alteration of his fenti- ments was unfeigned, and that he hearkened to the invitations of the Gofpel. I do this with fo much the more readinefs, fince I believe that the greateft part of what has been faid, has pro- ceeded from a zeal to promote the caufe of infidelity. There is a fet of people, who think it their duty to defend incredulity, even at the expence of truth and confcience. They have afiiduoufly propagated every thing which has been faid about that levity of behaviour in the Count, which I myfelf obferved in the be- ginning, but which he owned and fo much re- pented of afterwards. I (hall not apologize for what might have happened before I came, nor C 2 59 ) nor for that which was vifible even in the be- ginning of my vifiting him 5 I rather fhall praiie the mercy of God, which has mown its power fo furprizingly afterwards, and confirmed what the Apoftle fays : ■ Where fin abounded, grace did much more abound*' Count Brandt received the beft of educations. He faw none but good examples in the houfe of his parents, who had chofen the beft tutors to form his young heart for the fear of God. He him- felf was fenfible of this in his prifon, ami affured me that he very often had felt the power of the converting grace of God within his foul. Fie recollected in particular the time when he was firft admitted to the Lord's Supper, by the Rev. Mr. Piper, at Copenhagen ; at which time, ac^ cording to his own words, he received the fa- crament with a fervent devotion : he added, he could never forget the words of the clergyman, which made fo great an impreflion upon his mind : « Hold that faft which thou haft, that no man take thy crown.' On the 23d of February, the Right Re- verend the Bilhop Harboe fent me the King's own orders, whereby I was defired to vifit S a Count C 260 ) Count Brandt, who was priibner in the caftle*. I was not over-pleafed with this charge, knowing too well the fentiments and the former life of the Count. He had been the greateft volup- tuary, and a friend to all thofe vices which are generally annexed to this character, and one that turned every part of religion into ridicule. The next day I was introduced to him by Ge- neral Hoben, as the clergyman with whom he might fpeak about religion. He received me with great civility, and I, on my fide, af- fured him how much I fympathized with him in his misfortunes. I wanted to gain his con- fidence, and therefore afked him, how he could fupport himfelf in his diftrefTed condition ? He faid, " His mind was very much compofed and calm j" to which I replied: that it was a great advantage he enjoyed, and that I wifhed his eafe of mind might be built upon a good foundation •, upon which I took an opportunity to fpeak of religion as the only fource of com- * General lieutenant Hoben, the commander of the caftle, had afked Count Brandt: If he defiied to cenverfe with a divine? His anfwer was, he had no obje&ion to it, but he fhould like to know who was to be the clergyman, that was to attend him. He was told that this entirely depended on the will of the king. fort. ( 26l ) fort. He then faid, " That he believed, the report that he had no religion, had reached me likewife." I faid, I could not deny this ; and I was therefore the more forry, fince he wanted what was moft neceffary, and what could be moil ufeful to him both at prefent and in futurity. " He then affured me that he never had been entirely without religion, though he muft own that he did not fpeak always with due refpect of it." Finding that he had no intention to con- ceal his former way of thinking, I therefore afked him, if he mould not like that we might be left alone to carry on our converfation by ourfelves. He faid, " He was ready for it." I then defired the officer who was upon watch, and who was with him day and night, to leave the room ; which was the cafe afterwards always whenever I came. I now reminded him of v/hat he had told me before, that he never had been without a fenfe of religion, not even then when he ridiculed it. He confirmed what he had faid, but owned that he had feveral doubts about religion. I S 3 told ( 2Ö2 ) told him that doubting was very natural to us, and even good chriftians now and then' might be made uneafy by doubts, but that it was fin- ful to raiie doubts, and entertain them with delight. His doubts were about the fall of man, ori- ginal fin, and fome other matters concerning religion. When I had given him an anfwer to thefe doubts, I exhorted him to leave his care- lefs way of thinking, and not to obftruct the way to truth, by wilfully prejudicing himfelf againft it. He faid, " That he had formerly talked very freely againft religion, but that many things he had faid, were only produced by a defire of ihewing himfelf witty." When I exhorted him, fince he faw himfelf how badly he had afted, and into what mifery he by his contempt of religion had thrown him- felf, to mind now the time which v/as left him, and to look out for the falvation of his foul, he feemed to be greatly moved : particularly when I put him in mind of that good education he had enjoyed in the houfe of his parents, who took all pofiible care to prevent the ruin of his foul. Whe.i I reprefented to him the tears of his pious mothet, on account of the unhappy condition ( ^6 3 ) condition he was in, and the dangerous fituatiön of -his foul, he burft out into tears, fo that I my- felf began to be very much moved. Many more things being faid, and exhortations given, I took my leave of him, afking if it would be agreeable to him, that I fhould call again ? To which he replied : " He mould be glad to fee me at any- time." I left him with good hopes, and heard foon after of the effects of my vifit j for his levity, to which he was even in his prifon addicted, feemed to be checked, According to the account given to the commander of the caftle by the officer who had the watch, he not only had been very quiet, but had alfo burfl out in tears for very near an hour and a half together, fitting all the while on his bed. — But as foon as he had eafed his mind by his tears, his levity appeared again, for he fang an air afterwards. This, however, did not difcourage me, nor abate my hopes. I vifited him the next day again, and found that my vifits were really not difagreeable to him ; for he faid, " He had longed to- fee me." Our converfation of this day turned upon le- veral religious fubjects. ! I exhorted him to make the beft ufe of his time, and to turn his thoughts towards God -, and for this very reafon I ftrongly S 4 recom- ( ^4 ) recommended prayer to him. I afTured him that I had prayed fervently to God that he might fave his foul, and I mould continue doing the fame. He thanked me for this, and acknowledged, that the companion for him which I had fhewn the day before, had gained me his heart, and had made me dear to him. I fpoke feveral things after this, and found that my exhortations had fome effect upon him, for he very feldom, when I was with him, even to the laft day of his life, was without tears in his eyes, fo often as I fpoke to him about his former life, the depra- vity of his heart, and the greatnefs of God's mercy. — He owned that he earneftly defired the pardon of God, through Chrift his Redeemer, of which he, as he himfelf faid, flood greatly in need ; although the natural difpofition of his heart might not be bad, yet it would not juftify him before God, in whofe eyes he rnuft appear as a very great finner. In the mean time a rumour was fpread, and I heard of it, that he, even in my prefence, with another perlbn who fat next him, had made ufe of words which betrayed the great levity of his mind. I was very forry to hear fuch things, and the next time I law him, I very ear- neftly fpoke to him about this report, and ap- pealed 5 ( 26 5 ) pealed to his own confeience, whether he had been guilty of fuch a thing or not. He ieemed to be affected on the occafion, and declared " He was not ibrry on account or' what the people laid ; it grieved him rather that I myielf mould enter- tain fuch thoughts of him." I allured him it was no pleafure to me to entertain them, but my confeience obliged me to admonifh him concern- ing this report, that I might fpare rnyfelf any future uneafinefs about it. However, he owned, " That it was poffible fuch words might have efcaped him, on account of the levity of his heart, but he hinted, that iome pedbn or other, that wanted to bring fuch reports among the people, had given him an occafion for it, of which he made ufe, whilit his heart was not upon its guard." — 1 exhorted him to beg God to forgive him this tranlgreiTun, and to be watchful over himfeif, that if opportunities ihoulu offer themfelves of committing fuch an action again, he might refill in time : that he had better give no aniwer at ail to things which might induce him to exert his vanity, but rather fliew himfeif a penitent finner, who was as anxious to edify others by his converfation now, as he formerly had been to corrupt them by it. — He anfwered, " He was not able yet to fnew himfeif as a reli- gious man before others, bi.t lie fhould follow my ( i66 ) my advice, and give no anfwer to things that could difhonour himfelf and others." — I could defire of him no more at prefent, but exhorted him to fearch diligently the wretchednefs of his moral condition, and to pray to God to affift him in this felf examination. I could eafily imagine, that in my abfence, when he had nothing to entertain himfelf with, his former vanity and levity would return again •, I therefore offered to bring him fome religious books, that he might improve in what is good. He thanked me for it, and defired I would not forget it. When I paid him my next vifit, I brought him the translation of Gibforfs Paftoral Letters, for I thought this book might be ufeful to him en account of the folid arguments it contains for the truth of the chriftian religion, particu- larly fince the Count had formerly pretended to be a freethinker and a deift ; I gave him like- wife fome of Dr. Doddridge's writings. He took thefe books with a kind of eagernefs, and told me afterwards that he had been edified by them. I likewife brought him a Bible, and heard at another time that, according to his own con- fefTion, the 53d chapter of the prophet Ifaiah, and the 13th of St. Luke had made a great im- preflion ( 26 7 ) preflion upon him. He read fome Pfalms of David to me, and defired me to explain feveral paffages which he did not quite underitand. I did it, and he feemed to be pleafed, for during the whole time I was fitting by his fide, he would fix his eyes very attentively upon me. Now and then he would flart fome objections, but I can- not fay that they ever fhewed any levity of heart, or the leafh of malice, but rather tended to a de- fire of better information. — He begged of me to bring him Hervey's Meditations , and Newton on Prophecies, as the latter is tranflated into Danifli by Commodore Efiura. He told me afterwards that the reading of thefe books had much edified him, particularly the latter, fince it contained fuch clear proofs of the divinity of the Scriptures, upon which all religion is built. However, the reports of his pretended levity did not ceafe, and that his conduct in my abfence was quite different from that when I was prefent : yet I found thefe reports, from the following rea- fons, to be falfe, and that they were the idle in- vention of ill-meaning people. The converfations we had together convince me that his expreffions were the femiments of his heart, which began to be averfe to worldly things. Befides, I enquired of the honeft and venerable commander of the caflle, ( 7.6S ) caftle, if any one of the officers that guarded him, and who were to give an account of him every morning, had mentioned any thing to this pur- pofe ? He allured me it was all falle, and that the Count, fince I had brought him thefe books, had amufed himfelf with them, and that he icarcely ever laid the Bible out of his hands ; for which reafon he very feldom fpoke of any thing elfe, much lefs of any thing that could give offence. The alteration of his fentiments appeared likewife, as the commander obferved, from his behaviour before the committee that fat on his affairs, who teftified that he not only freely anfwered the ques- tions laid before him, but that he even confeffed more than he v/as requefted to do. The com- mander added, that if any thing indecent had happened, he would have informed me of it. 1 was pleafed to hear this, and I was Hill more fo, fince every one of the officers that had been upon watch allured me, that his converfation was not only decent, but likewife oftentimes edifying ; for he frequently reprefented to them what com- forts religion adminiftered to a man who was convinced of its truth and importance ; it was the only means to make our minds compofed, which happinefs he enjoyed, and was indebted for it to religion. He allured them, that during his profperity, ( 26 9 ) profperity, and in the enjoyment of all luftful pleafures, he felt no real fatLfaction of mind. I was (till more convinced of the falfity of thefe reports, fince fome things were faid to have happened whilft I was with him, which I knew were not true. It was faid, for in- flance, that when I was once with him, I, ac- cording to cuftom, had found him very devout; but when I had left the prifon, I had liftened at the door, which was bolted, and hearing from within fome things which betrayed his levity, I had re- turned to him again, and reproached him on account of his conduct. This report, which, in fome refpects, concerned myfelf, convinced me clearly by its untruth, that fome malicious per- fons invented and propagated all thefe ftories, for the fake of rendering the reverence the Count paid to religion fufpicious, left his example might open the eyes of thofe profefling his former prin- ciples. The Count himfelf hinted to me, that a certain perfon, whom he named, had propagated the moil wicked and low expreffions, which he was faid to have dropped on account of his ap- proaching death and execution. This fame man, or fomebody elfe like him, has given out, that I had denied giving the facrament to the Count, OD becaufe his heart was fo hardened. How great an C 270 ) an untruth this is, the remainder of my narrative will fhew. I now was fully fatisfied on account of thefe reports, and exhorted him to go on in the manner he had begun, till he had finifhed his courfe. I heard with pleafure, that he became a preacher of repentance himfelf. With great freedom he owned now before me and others, that his imprifonment was the means of fetting his foul at liberty, and he found his chains fo little troublefome to him, that he would often- times take them up and kifs them. " For, faid he, when I believed myfelf to be free, I was a miferable flave to my pafllons ; and now, fince I am a prifoner, truth and grace have fet me at liberty." He further pitied the miferable condi- tion of thofe that were under the yoke of unbe- lief and fin, which he himfelf had worn, and kept himfelf in it by reading deiftical writings. He mentioned, among the reft, the works of Vol- taire, to whom he owed very little that was good. He faid, he had fpent upon his travels four days with this old advocate for unbelief, and had heard nothing from him but what could corrupt the heart and found morals. He was very forry for all this, but was much pleafed that he had found a tafte for the true word of God, whofe 1 efficacy ( 27 1 ) efficacy upon his heart, fince he read it with good intentions, convinced him of its divine oricrin. On this occafion he fpoke of Struenfee, and faid, he was a man without any religion, who, from his infancy, according to his own con- feflion, never had any imprefiion or feelings of it. As to himfelf, he afilired me, that though he had been far from being virtuous, yet he always entertained a fecret reverence for religion, and had fpoken ieveral times about it to Struenfee, in hopes of bringing him to better fentiments, but he never would hear him. It appeared to me a little odd, that the blind mould thus have led the blind : I therefore anfwered nothing, thinking it might perhaps be his lelf-conceit that made him fpeak fo, or that he wanted to make me entertain a better opinion of his errors than I had reafon for, therefore I would not tempt him to fuppcrt an untruth by defending what he had told me. But I found afterwards that he had fpoken the truth, when I was defired by D. Munter, in the name of Struenfee, to come to him, as he had fome- thing to tell me, which was to be communi- cated to Count Brandt. The commander of the caftle told me this meffage of D. Munter, and my anfwer was, that I was ready to call upon Struenfee, if he (the commander) and D. Mun- ter would be prefent. My requeft was granted, and C 272 ) and 1 came to Struenfee, who received me very civilly, and gave me a Jong account of his for- mer bad principles, (which, in fhort, were nothing eile but mere materialifmus and tnecba- mfiniar, according to the fyltem of de la Mettrie *) and told me, laftiy, what I was to tell Count Brandt. The contents of the meilap-e were, that he was convinced, by the grace of God, and by reading the Bible, of the divine authority of the Scriptures ; and that I might tell Count Brandt of this alteration of his, which, he hoped, would be agreeable to him. He added, which 1 ihall mention in his own words, " I confefs that Brandt has fpoken frequently to me about religion, but I always defired him to keep filence en this head." By this I found, that what Brandt had told me concerning Stru- enfee was true +. I brought the mefTage I was charged with by Struenfee directly to Brandt. He rejoiced inwardly on account of this news, * De la Mittrle died at Berlin in 175 1. His famous book, Vhomme Machine, makes man a mere machine, and his foul an inhgniheant word. The powers of the foul he thinks to be nothing elfe but an unknown motion of the brain. His Traite de la {q near. -He anfwered, he did not, and he himielf knew nothing of it, but thought he fhould receive orders for it that very evening y which was the cafe. I therefore mylelf was to acquaint him with this melancholy news, and I did it in the following manner. Since I came to him to day rather earlier than ufual, I told him I fhould make the belt of his time fince it was fo fhort. Ke guefTed from what I faid that I knew the time of his execution, and afked when it was to be ? I told him it was the day after to-morrow, when he fhould be delivered from all evil. He heard it unconcerned, and faid he readily fubmitted to the will of God. I then prepared him for receiving the facrament, after which I took my leave. 1 came on Monday about ten o'clock in the forenoon, and when I had fpoke to him about the facrament, I made a propofal to him, which I left to himfelf either to accept or nor. I faid, he knew how many bad reports were fpread of his behaviour during the time of his imprifon- ment ; I therefore left it to him to confider whether it might not be of ufe to make a decla- ration before proper witneffes, what his real fentiments were. He readily complied with the propofal, and I went to the commander of the { 28l ) the caftle, who came with four gentlemen of- ficers more, in whofe prefence he declared, that he was ready to die and was not afraid of it •, he likewife confeffed before the All-knowing God, that he without hypocrify had fought for God's mercy ; he likewife confeffed, as he had done before, that he had acted very inconfiderately, that his levity had been very great, and that he, on this account, acknowledged God's mercy, in fuffering him to die, left he mould be drawn away again from religion. He faid, he knew very well, that the fame levity of temper had induced him, in the beginning of his imprifon- ment, to talk in a manner he was now alhamed of j though he was fure in his confcience that many untruths were invented and propagated among the people-, but he forgave thofe who had been guilty of fuch a thing. Now he wimed that thofe gentlemen that were prefent would bear teftimony to what he mould fay. He then acknowledged hjmfelf a great finner be- fore God, a finner who had gone aftray, but was brought back by Chrift. He then begged the commander and the other officers to foro-ive him, if by his levity he had offended any one of them, and wifhed that God's mercy in Chrift might always attend them as the greateft blef- fing. He fpoke all this with fuch a readinefs and ( 282 ) and in fo moving terms, that all who were prefent were affected by it, and every one of them wifned that God would preferve him in this fituation of mind to the laft. When the gentlemen were gone, I adminiftered the facrament to him, and he appeared as penitent and as devout as I have at any time feen any chnitim whatever. When I approached to give him the facrament, he turned in the chair as if he would face me, and I, thinking he meant only to make it moie commodious to me to give it him, defired him to fit Hill ; but he faid, " He would try to kneel down," which he did, and received the facrament with fo many tears and with fuch figns of inward hope, that I could not help being greatly affected. I left him about noon, but came again in the afternoon, when I found him quite compofed without any fear of death. I fpent all the time I was with him in devotion, and left him late in the evening. On Tuefday the 28th of April, which was the day of his execution, and as I firmly be- lieved of his entrance into the blifs of eternity, I came to him early in the morning, about fix o'clock. ( **3 ) o'clock. I afked him directly how he did, and how he had retted that night. He faid, " He was very well, and had retted well." 1 anfwered, I was glad to hear it, for if the body had had its rett, his foul would be the more ferene to enter upon its journey. He prayed a long while in my prefence very fervently. He (hewed him- felf in his exprefiions a humble and penitent fmner, but at the fame time one who entertains the fureft hopes of being pardoned before God, He prayed for the church of Chnft, for the King and the nation, for all that were mifkd by error and irreligion. Laftly, he prayed to God to forgive him all that whereby he had offended others, and exprelfed how readily he for- gave thofe that were his enemies. He thanked God for all the mercies he had ihewn him during the time of his imprifonment ; he prayed for me likewife. Then he read the Lord's prayer with much attention, adding now and then an ex- planation to what he had been reading, infomuch that I was amazed to iee how great his prefence of mind was when he was jutt going to die. When he was pronouncing the words, < Thy kingdom come,' he added : " Yes, now it is coming." When he read, « Forgive us our trefpaffes, as we forgive them that trefpafs againfl C 2S4 ) againft us,' He added: « Thou O God and my Redeemer, who knoweft my own heart and that of all men, thou knoweft how free my heart is from all hatred and malice againft any perfon whatever, and that I wifh well to every body in this and the future world." When he had finifhed his prayers, his chains, which were fixed in the wall, were taken off, and he put thofe clothes on in which he intended to appear en the fcafFold. He then drank a difh of coffee and eat fomething, walking up and down in the room, which he could not do be- fore. As often as I afked him how he found himfelf, he faid, he was not afraid of dying. He afterwards afked me, whether I had feen any body executed before, and how far he was to lay his body bare for execution ? Soon after, the door of the prifon was opened, and an officer defired me to get into a coach that was to carry me before him to the place of exe- cution. I then recommended him to the mercy of God, who was ready and powerful to ftrengthen to the laft. He then embraced me, and we parted, till we met again at the place •f execution. When < 28 5 ) When 1 received him there, I comfor- ted him, and faid, among other words, that Chrift would not leave him. Upon which he anfwered : " He has been with me all the way hither." We then went up the (lairs to the fcaffold. Even here, he aflured me his mind was compofed, and he was not afraid of death. I fpoke feveral things after his fentence was read to him, and his coat of arms broken. And When I happened to quote the words, ' Son, be of good cheer, thy fins are forgiven thee,' he faid : " Yes, they all are cad into the depths of the fea." When I had read thofe things from the ritual which are ufual on fuch occafions, and had afked him, if he acknowledged the juftice of his fentence ? and when he had anfwered, " Yes," he then began to pray that God would blefs the King and the whole land for Chrift's fake. Several prayers being offered up on my part, I gave him the benediction, and taking him by the hand, delivered him up to juftice. He quickly pulled his clothes off, laid himfelf down, and when his head was already upon the block, and I reminded him of Jefus falling on his face in Gethlemane praying, he 2 faid : 1 ( 2S6 ) faid : " The blood of Chrift intercecdeth for me." Whilft I was faying : < O Chrift, in thee I live, in thee I die ; O thou Lamb of God that takeft away the fins of the world, be merciful,* he fufFered his punifhment. Two anonymous Letters to Count Brandt, which were found in the pocket-book which he ufed always, to carry about him, wherein he was forewarned of what happened to him many months after. Sir, " Perhaps you may wonder to receive a letter without a name on a matter of fo great impor- tance, from a friend who formerly ufed to tell you the truth before your face ; but the times we. live in now, will not juftify a man in ex- pofmg himielf to danger, without feeing any good arifing from it. The two laft court-days, I fought for an op- portunity at Hirfchholm to fpeak a few words to you in private ; but I found it was impoflible. You might have obferved this, if you had been at all attentive; but I found you fo much engaged with another object, that I could not approach i ( 2S 7 ) approach you near enough to make you under- ftand what I wanted : and I thought it not ad- vifable to go to Hirfchholm on purpofe to pay you a vifit. Once, Sir, you mewed that you had the ho- nour of your mailer at heart. It was then' afierted, that neither zeal nor attachment were the fprings of your actions, but ambition and intere":, becaufe you hoped that if you could bring into difgrace Count H you might fucceed him in that favour and honour he en- joyed. However, the bulk of the people thought your intentions noble and without felf- interefc. Perhaps the immediate confequences of this your transaction have made fo great an imprefiion upon you, that you think you dare not venture upon fuch another. And yet the final iflue of the affair has fhewn, that even your ill fuccefs in it has been more advantageous to you than detrimental. Therefore, Sir, do not think that this was the mere effect of accident, but rather that a higher hand has guided this matter. I do not knew what your notions of God may be, or whether you believe a God at all, or only a mere Stoic fate. It would be very fuperfiuous to debate a matter of fo great impor- tance here. Time will come, when experience will ( 288 ) will teach you that there is a God, who fees and knows every thing, who either early or late rewards virtue and punifhes vice. My intention is not at prefent to make you a chriftian. It is only to remind you of your duty, that duty, which even an honeft heathen thought himfelf obliged to, towards his King, his country, himfelf and his family. The heathen laws demanded this of every fub- ject and of every man who laid any claim to honour. You fee, Sir, in what manner your King and benefactor is ufed. You fee the indecent things that are done before his eyes, arid in which you yourfelf are tod much concerned. You fee that in the whole kingdom every thing is turned Upfide down. Confider, Sir, and recover your fenfes, and you will not be at a lofs how to act, If it is true, (and it is but too true) that the life of the King is in danger, or at leaft, that pre- parations are making to take away his liberty •, you certainly muft know it. The fenfe of the nation on this head cannot be unknown to you, and that one time or other you are to account for the life and liberty of your Sovereign. You, Sir, fince you are conftamly about him, and f 289 ) and fince you fee and know of every thing -, be allured that your head will be anfwerable for it either fooner or later. Think of your own fafety, I conjure you by the friendfhip I enter- tain for you. It is in your power to do it. You fee plainly from the defire of the King to avoid the place and company in which he is ill-ufed, and from his averfion to return to it, that he is fenfible of the ill-treatment. He one time or another will deliver himfelf from you, or good fortune will rid him of you, and what will then be your fate ? Would it not be beft for you, to fave your head, and to do at the fame time your cluty ? To build your happinefs on a folid and noble foundation, which you then will owe to your zeal, your faithfulnefs and attachment to your King, who will reward you with riches and honour, and the nation will not think even this an equivalent for your fervices. You and your prefent welfare depends on the caprice of a wretch who will abandon you as foon as he is above your afliftance. At prefent he makes ufe of you as the monkey did of the cat, and I fancy you have found this out more than once if you will not impofe upon yourfelf. If the King mould come to town, I advife you to act in this manner. Prevail upon him U to ( 2QG } to go to the palace, and perfuade him to call for one or two of his faithful fervants to con- fult in what manner to proceed. It is unfor- tunate enough that the number of thefe faithful fervants is fo fmall, and reduced perhaps to one or two perfons ; for the belt and cleverefr, men are carefully removed. You will eafily guefs who thefe perfons are without my naming them. Perfeverance, honefty, and experience are cha- rade riftics by which you are to know them. I could name them, but I would avoid the lean: fufpicion of fclf-interell. However, I mult tell you, that it is neither nor ■ •, both are detefted by the nation to an equal degree» You will forfeit your head if you do not follow this advice, which I give you as your friend, and a faithful fervant of the King. If you do not mind it, but neglect your duty towards, your King and benefactor, you may be fure it will cod you your life, your honour, and every thing which is deareft to an honelt man, and befides no body will pity you. If you, on the other fide, do what your duty requires, and lave your King from thofe wicked hands he is fallen into, you may be fure that there is na honour or profperity to which you would not be entitled to, and this with confent of the King and all his faithful fubjects. Perhaps C 291 ) Perhaps you will think proper to fliew this letter to your Struenfee, to give him a proof of your faithfulnefs, at the expence of thofe obliga- tions yeu have fworn to your King, and to induce him to grant new favours to the hufband of Lady ; and perhaps he might do it, to deceive you, and to keep you in his intereft. But I aflure you that if they have got rid of the King, you will be wretched, and perhaps the guilt will fall upon you. I repeat it again, your head mall anfwer for the fafety of the King. You are continually about him, you accompany him, you are in- truded with his perfon. And left you may plead ignorance, I allure you upon honour, that in fuch cafe, the copy of this letter mall be pro- duced againft you in proper time and place. And for fear you mould miftake in this refpect, I defire you to mind the feal of this letter, which contains the initial letters of my name, and which will alio be produced againft you. The life and health of the King, together with the welfare of the kingdom, are in your hands ; act in a manner that you can anfwer for before your fellow-citizens, I will not fay before God, (for I do not know what your idea U 2 of ( 2Q2 ) of God may be, though I have reafon to think, from what you told me once in your apartments at Chriflianfburg, and afterwards at Hirfchholm, that your notions are not altogether as they fhould be.) You fee I am not afraid of your guefling who I am, and I afilire you, that if you act as I ex- pect from your birth, you will find me to be your faithful and devoted fervant." July the 8th, 1771. " Well, Sir, what I foretold you has happened, and you feel already the effects of your bad con- duct. You have been faithlefs to your King, and you are now treated by others in the fame manner. They ufe you as the monkey did the cat. You are deceived, and fmce they find they can do with you whatever they pleafe, they laugh at you now, and it will not lad long before they will fend you with contempt about your bufinefs ; and left you Ihould tell tales, they very likely may imprifon you for life, or lead you, by fome means or other, into another world. T :is will be the due reward of your treachery, ..lice, and your mean actions. I prognofticated allthefe things to you in my laft letter ol tb : fince that time, my friendship for you, of which I have ( 293 ) I have given you undeniable proofs, is grown very cool ; you do not deferve that it fhould con- tinue, fince you have been unable to follow good advice, and to do what your honour and your duty requires of you; you rather have chofen to perfevcre in your wicked way of life. If you, at that time, had followed my advice, you would have fet the King at liberty by faring him, and y ur praife would have been immortal : you then would have fatisfied the duties of a good fubjecl, of a faithful fervant, and of an honeft man : you would have gained the ap- plaufe, not only of all your countrymen, but even of all Europe : they would all have united to procure you rewards according to your merit, and proportionable to the fervices done to the King and your country. And certainly nobody would have been more deferving of rewards. But now you are detefted through the whole kingdom, and every where you are laughed at. Much was expected from your loyalty, your love for the King, and from a fenfe of your own duty •, but people were miftaken. You are now punifhed •, you are infamous among the whole nation, and your name is mentioned with horror. At court you are laughed at, and entertained with vain hopes •, an imaginary greatnefs is (hewn you, you are tickled with the empty title of Count, which will remain a monument of U 3 your ( 294 ) your want of faith, your weaknefs, your mean^ nefs, and your reproachful conduct. In the mean time Struenfee infults the King and the whole royal family, not becaufe they had of- fended him, but only to (hew his unlimited power. He arrogates all honours to himfelf ; he makes himfelf mailer of the government, the concerns of the kingdom, and of the King himfelf, whom he diihonours before the whole world; he difpofes of the revenues of the kingdom in a defpotic manner, and againfl all order. This wretch dürft attempt to put himfelf on a level with his matter, by drawing up an order, by which the figning of his name obtains the fame authority, which, according to the conftitution of the kingdom, only belongs to the fjgnature of the King. Your meannefs, and your unwarrantable conduct, have aflifled to raife him fo high ; you could have prevented this, and therefore you will be anfwerable for the con- fequences. He commits crimes, and aifaflinations, and he does it to keep the reins of government; but you contribute your (hare, by obeying the orders of this Crqmwell, who is ready to facri- fice the life of the King a thoufand times over, if poilible, that he may obtain his wicked ends a and provide for his own fecurity. Inftead of ac- quainting the King wich things which nobody knows better than ycu, (for you are cunning enough ( *95 ) enough when it concerns your own intereft) yoti aflift this Dick leat the bußo in arrogating to him- felf royal authority •, in keeping his mafter under guardianfhip ; in degrading him in the eyes of his fubjects, that their love may ceafe, or at leaf! decreafe ; and laftly, as every one fays, in ufing him perlbnally ill in the bargain. You that can prevent all this, and fave the King from the hands of this good-for-nothing wretch, and yet are not willing to do it, you, Sir, are accountable for it, and you deferve greater punimment than the traitor himfelf : and believe me, as fure as that there is a God, you. iboner or later, mall pay for it with your head. You fee how prepoflerouÖy bu.finefs is tranfc a&ed ; every thing is overthrown and jumbled together in the mod flrange manner, and blended v/ith the highefl inconfideratenefs, of which there is no parallel inftance to be met with in hiftory» The moß: honeft people that have ferved the king- dom fuch a long while and fo faithfully that even -envy itfelf could not blame them, are removed at a diltance : they are turned "way in the mofj: mameful manner, if they will not fall in with the ■meafures of this Dottor of phyfic^ or if he is afraid of their honefty. Their places are filled up with wretches who know nothing of the conftitution of the kingdom and of the fituation of affairs •; U 4 who C 2 9 5 5 who know nothing of the bufinefs annexed to their offices ; in fhort, people of whom nobody fo much as dreamt that they were acquainted even with the firft principles of the art of government. For God's fake ! what is the meaning that a * — and v profeflbr of mathematics at Ligniz, is placed at the head of the board of finances ? Thefe men enjoy a yearly falary of 3000 rixdollars, whilfc others that have ferved forty or fifty years without blame, are now ftarv- ing, becaufe they could not betray the King and their country, and would not be employed in promoting bad and deftruclive ends. Yet thefe ignorant men dare to rake upon their fhoulders a burden under which, particularly in thefe un- happy times, a man of courage, abilities, and experience would have trembled. However, the wife man knows the danger, and therefore will not hazard the welfare of the nation and his good character ; but the ignorant man who has nothing to lofe, does not perceive the unhappy confequences of his inability and ignorance. You fee, Sir, that the nation is acquainted with the w retchcdnefs of this prefent adminiftration, that it feels the bad confequences of it, which will drive it at laft to extremities. You may be juTured of the truth of this the more, fjnce dif, content; ( -2-91 ) content diicovers itfelf in a public and an alarm- ing manner. You know all this, but you con- ceal it from the King, though you are the only man that converfes with the King, whilft accefs to the throne is denied to all the reft of his fub- jects. You alone can inform the King of the dangerous fituation he himfelf and his kingdoms are in. The inconceivable indifference where- with the heft and braveft of the King's fubjects are treated, fhews that a certain kingdom (Nor- way) may foon become alienated ; fo that, in a fhort time, every thing may be lofl without help, if his Majefly continues to hearken to fuch bad advice. You fee, Sir, how the department of foreign affairs is managed, and how, by the intrigues and incapacity of our great prime mini ft er ^ who has the audacity to interfere, every thing is per- plexed, fo that the name of the Danes is now a fubjecx for ridicule.' You fee, Sir, and you know, how arbitrarily his excellency our great prime mini ft er ^ Count Struenfee, difpofes of the finances — the pure blood of the poor fubjecls. You, Sir, as you are a Dane, of noble ex- traction, beloved by your King, to whom you and ( 2o8 ) and your family owe fo many favours ; and yet for you to keep filence! — Do not you blufh ? and are you not convinced in your confcience, that you yourfelf ought to fall the firfl facrifice of fuch conduct, fince you might have prevented all this, or had, at leaft, a thoufand opportu- nities to fet things to rights again ? If tumult and rebellion (which God forbid) fhould be the confequences, of whom do you think the exafperated populace would take hold firft ? Would not they fecure you firft, fince you are, at leaft, as culpable as Struenfee ? And do not you expofe your life, fooner or later, to the greateil danger by this conduct, which is not confiftent with the character of an honeft man ? Reflect, Sir, and return to your duty: I conjure you by the allies of your father, whom you never knew ; by the tears of your virtuous mother, who weeps, perhaps, already on account of your approaching untimely death; and what is füll more, I conjure you by the tears, which, per- haps, one time may be fhed, on your account, by the King, the royal family» and your afflicted country. You are not afraid to difagree with the Doftor- prime-minifier when it concerns your private inte- rest s ( 2 9 9 ) reft y but you are mean enough to be reconciled by aprefent of io,ooo rixdollars, of which he has [ robbed the King and the nation to give them to you. Are you not afhamed of fuch a meannefs ? and are you afraid of this man in matters that con- cern the welfare of your King and your country ? Thefe traitors and villains, who defend a bad caufe, would not have courage to oppofe you, through fear of endangering their heads, which already fit loofely upon their moulders. You would fave your King and your country ; you would deferve rewards, and would have a right to claim them •, they would follow you of courfe^ fince nobody would refufe them : I myfelf, who write this letter, would be the firft that would contribute largely towards loading you with riches. With what tranquillity and inward fatisfaction would you enjoy your fortune, your prerogatives, and your honour, if you mould gain this by the confent, and even agreeably to the wifhes of your King, your country, and your fellow citizens. I defire you, Sir, to confider this well, though I entertain a better opinion of your generofity, than to fuppofe that you are to be inftigated to per- form noble actions only by mercenary motives. In my opinion you muft begin this important , bufmefs in the following manner. You are fre- quently alone with the King : you take a walk in the ( 30o ) the evening with the King, as I was informed laft Wednefday at Hirfchholm : you have found that the King is weary of the guardian (hip he is kept under. Make uic, Sir, of fuch a favorable mo- ment, or occafion it yourfelf, fince you have understanding enough for it. Reprefent to him the unhappy fituation he is in, and how ihconfiftent it is with thofe obligations his royal dignity lays him under. Tell him that he, by figning the order of the 15th of July, has divided the throne and his royal authority between him- felf and Struenfee ; that he himfelf, the royal fa- mily, the kingdom, all his fubjects, his reve- fcies, the life and the property of every one, are left to the arbitrary difpofal of this arch-grand- vizir, who is a man without experience, without honour, without religion, without fidelity ; who does not regard laws, who is mafter over all, even over the life of the King. You know that great crimes are oftentimes productive of itill greater ones, or that we at leaft muft fear that it might happen. When you have explained this to the King, then reprefent to him the defpair his fub- jects are in, and to what they might be driven by fuch a deftructive adminifiration, and by fuch tnifery. Shew him what danger threatens him and his empire, if this wretch has time enough to turn every thing upfide down. If you mould put the heart of the King in emotion, and (hould 2 have ( 3 01 ) have convinced him, how abfolutely neccflary it was, to think of the prefervation of his royal per- fon, his family, and his kingdom •, then pro- pofe to him to go directly to Copenhagen, wheie he will be quite fafe ; to refort to the palace, and to fend for two or three noblemen that can give good advice, according as the circumftances re- quire ; that he might not take falfe fteps (which could be of confequence) at the time when the nation mould attempt to revenge itfelf, and to mew its hatred againft the authors of its misfor- tunes and its miferies. I could name thele perfons, but the nation will do it for me ; they ought to be perfons acquainted with government, that they may advife according as the prefent fituation of affairs requires : but it muß not >3 — , nor , nor ■— , for thefe three the n ation equally detefts, and they, there- fore, would fruftrate the whole defign. For God's, your King's, your country's, your family's, your own fake, confider all this well, and do not delay any longer to haften to the affiftance of your unhappy country. Save the »ation, the King, and your own head. September the 19th, 1771. ( 3ö2 ) The Sentence of Count Enevold Brandt* at full length. T appears, from Count Brandt's own con- feflion, as well as from the declaration of the late prime minister, John Frederick Struenfeej and from other circumftances, that Count Ene- vold Brandt was not only Struenfee's very good friend, but even his intimate, whom heintruiled with his greatefl fecrets. Therefore, in confideration of the royal fa- vour and intimacy which he enjoyed, it would have been his duty to endeavour, by all means, to remove thofe things,, of which he, according to his own declaration in his trial, difapproved in the conduct, fentiments, and tranfacliions of Struenfee, and which he mud have found foolifh, audacious, and detrimental both to the King, the administration, and the whole empire. Inftead of this, he, as a criminal fubjecl: and fervant of the King, unworthy of his truft, has acted in concert with Struenfee, and has nor left off to be his intimate, and to affift him. He fuffered himfelf to be employed by Struenfee to keep every body from fpeaking to the King, left his Majefty mould be informed of what was blameable in Struenfee's conduct, in which he himfelf was fo deeply concerned. He ( 303 ) He has behaved, not only in private, but even publicly, to the great concern of his fellow fubjects, infolently, and without any refpect to- wards his King. He has not fhewn that reverence to his Ma-' jetty which every good fubject thinks his duty, and exprefTes readily from his heart on all occa- fions, in his words and actions : he rather has oppofed the King, that he might gain and keep Struenfee's favour, to obtain an extravagant fortune, and ferve his own private intereft. His memoir, which is a kind of correfpond- ence between him and Struenfee, is a proof of his abfurd pretenfions, and that he acknow- ledged his blameable behaviour towards the King. Therefore he mould have altered and amended his conduct, and rather have quitted a pott that he held, which he difliked, and for which he was not qualified. But no ! he would not ad contrary to the will of his benefactor and protector Struenfee, who wanted him, for his own purpofes, to be about the King's perfon ; and Count Brandt, on his part, expected to be rewarded by his friend with greater honours and riches. He in his department as direfteur des fpeftades, has aflifted Struenfee, to bring about a mif- underttanding in the royal family, by affigning to Prince Frederick a feparate box in the play- 4 houfe ( 304 ) houfe, led his Royal Highnefs fhould have aft opportunity, by being in the fame box with the King, to acquaint him with Count Brandt's and his intimate friend's mod blameable con- dud. He has prevailed upon Struenfee to make him, within a fhort time, prefects out of the King's treafury to the amount of 6o,oco rix- dollars, though he was convinced, he neither for his fervices nor for his conduct deferved fuch a reward. When he returned his thanks to his Mnjefty for thefe great preients, he did not mention the fum, becaufe he was confeious that he was un- deferving of it, and becaufe Struenfee had defired him not to mention it, left the King fhould get an infight into that, which the ap- proved of extracts of accounts have fince clearly fhewn to his Majefty and every one who infpecls them. All thefe criminal actions are perpetrated by Count Brandt, and his confeience muft alfo tell him every moment, that he acted as a faith- lefs fubjeft, and particularly againft his duty and obligations on account of the efpecial fa- vour and confidence his Majefty" honoured him with : and befides all this, he was fo earneftly and fo fenfibly put in mind of his duty in two anonymous ( 3°5 ) anonymous letters, which were found in his pocket-book, and wherein he was advifed con- cerning what he ought to have done, if he wifhed to preferve his head from the fcaffbld. He was ruled and guided by nothing but in- folence, ambition and avarice. Criminal as all thefe mentioned things are yet they are nothing in comparifon to what Count Enevold Brandt himfelf has confeffed, clearly and plainly before the King's commiffiorij and what is proved and confirmed by feveral witnefles -, That he has laid hands on the facred per/on of his Majefiy. For it may be confidered, as if he had attempted to kill his Majefty, be- caufe it cannot be foretold what the iffue of fuch an aflault might be, and an unlucky blow on a tender part has frequently been the caufe of death. He was angry at the King, and wanted fatis- faction of his royal mafter, whofe well deferved admonition he mould have received with re- pentance of his former behaviour towards him, and fnould have avoided coming into his pre- fence, left he mould offend him again. Inftead of this, he planned with his friend Struenfee, how and when he could beft aflault his Majefty, and confidered by himfelf, what weapons he was to ufe, which he kept in readi- X nefs, ( 3°6 ) nefs, though upon fecond confideratkm he did not make ufe of them. Eeing told by Struenfee that the King was by himfelf, and that it was now time to put his defign into execution, he confiderately and with full intention to revenge himfelf, went to the King, turned the two pages that were in waiting out of the room, bolted the door, left any body mould come in to oppofe him and to prevent his defign, and forced his Majefty by words and by an aflaulr. to make refinance. He wounded the King in this fcuffle on the neck, and abufed his benefactor and his King with words and exprefiions ib mocking and rebellious, that every body muft forbear repeat- ing them. Though Count Brandt has faid in his de- fence, that his Majefty had forgiven him this - y yet, fuppoie it were fo, it cannot be underftood otherwiie, than that his Majefty would forbear punifhing ib great a crime for a while. This indulgence does not jufbify him, and his Majefty muft know beft how far it mould extend itfelf. This deteftable and traitercus action of Count Brandt, cannot be confidered otherwife than as an open attempt upon the King's perfon, and cannot fall under any other denomination than that ( 3°7 ) that of high-treafon, which deferves the punim- ment fixed upon fuch a crime in the Danifh code of laws, book vi. chap. 4. article 1. We] therefore judging accordingly, think it to be juft and right, that Count Enevold Brandt (hall have forfeited his honour, his life, and his eftates ; that he mail be degraded from his dignity as Count, and all other dignities which have been confer- red upon him. His coat of arms which he had as Count, mall be broken by the executioner on the fcaffbld •, likewife (hall Count Enevold Brandt's right hand and afterwards his head be cut off when alive, his body mall be quartered and laid upon the wheel, and his head and his hand fhall be ftuck upon a pole. Given by the King's commiflion at the caftle of ChriPuanfburg, April the 25th, 1772. I. K. Juel Wind. G. A. Braem. H. Stampe. (L. S.) fL. S.) (L. S.) Luxdorph. A. G. Carllens. Kcfod Ancher. (L. S.) (L. S.) (L.S.) I. E. E. Schmidt. F. C. Sevel. O. Guldberg. (L.S.) (L.S.) (L.S.) 5* The approbation of the King is as follows. We i 308 ) We hereby approve in all points of the fentencej pronounced by the commifiion of enquiry which we had appointed at our caftle of Chriftianfburg, againft Enevold Brandt, on account of his deteftable and traiterous defign and affault upon our own perfon, that he fhall have forfeited his honour, life, and eftate, fhall be deprived of his dignity as Count, and all other dignities which have been conferred upon him, his coat of arms fhall be broken by the executioner on the fcaffold ; that his right hand, and afterwards his head, mail be cut off when alive ; his body fhall be quartered and laid upon the wheel, and his head and his hand fhall be ftuck upon a pole. Whereupon thofe whom it concerns are commanded to act accordingly. Given at our caftle of Chriftianfburg, the 27th of April, 1772. O. Tott CHRISTIAN. Luxdorph. A. Schumacher* Dons. Hoyer. F I N I &. 1