THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 m 
 
 isj' 

 
 " I I I nf ill II II 1 1 i i yiin rn, r iiiii ij ii i i iiii N ii M i n ii i j nr
 
 A 
 
 FAITHFUL NARP.ATIVE 
 
 •■ O F T H E 
 
 ' CONVERSION andDEATH 
 
 O F 
 
 COUNT STRUENSEE, 
 
 Late Prime Minister of Denmark; 
 
 Together with 
 Letters of his Parents to Him, and alfo 
 a Letter of his own ; wherein he relates how 
 he came to alter his Sentiments of Religion. 
 
 Pubhlhed by D. M U N T E R, 
 
 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 Pockct-Book, wherein he was forewarned of what 
 happened to him Four Months after ; and likewifc an 
 exact Copy of his SENTENCE. 
 
 The Whole trandatecj from 
 
 TFIE ORIGINAL GERMAN. 
 
 Embelliflied with the Heads and Coats of Arms of both the 
 unhappy Counts. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for U. Linde, Stationer, in Bridges-Street, 
 Covcnt-Garden, mdcclxxiii.
 
 DL 
 
 ( "i ) 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 TRANSLATOR. 
 
 1\/J0 S T accounts which are given of 
 converjiojts of hardened Jinners^ are 
 drawn up with more enthujiafm than rea-- 
 fon, and are too frequently emhellified with 
 declamations^ tales^ dreams^ a?2d other injig- 
 nificant trifles ; Jo that Chri/Uans^ who are 
 better acquainted with the true Jpirit of our 
 divine religion y mujl be offended by them ; and 
 others^ who are no friends of religion^ will 
 certainly turn them into ridicule^ and harden 
 themf elves in their unbelief and immorality. 
 The Tranjlator took the origiiial of this book 
 
 A z into 
 
 o^*w-'>v)y
 
 ( iv ) 
 
 into his hand ivith prepojjejjions of this kind\ 
 but he found himfelf agreeably deceived^ and 
 thought if, after an attentive reading, capable 
 oj promoting the caufe of true religion and real 
 *virtuey for both which he is not ajhamed tq 
 profefs hinfelf a warm advocate. With this 
 view he undertook the tranjlation of it, fear- 
 ing that in this, as well as in all other 
 nations, there are but too many whofe prin- 
 ciples of religion and morality are fimilar ta 
 thofi of Struenfe, and who indulge them- 
 fehes, according to their Jlations and oppor- 
 tunities, full as much as he did, in every 
 paffion and vice which proved his ruin. 
 
 C7^..' 
 
 ^here is one thing which jniifl recommend this 
 account to the particular attention of the reader • 
 and that is, its authenticity : for there is not 
 the leaf doubt in this refpe^t, which the Tran- 
 flator could not engage to fatisfy, if it was 
 required ; but he trufls, that a candid pe- 
 rufal of the work itfelf will afford fuficient 
 evidence of its being genuine. D. Munter, 
 who is the undoubted Author of the account 
 concerning Struenfee^ is an eminent Divine^
 
 ( V ) 
 
 and ReBbr of one of the prmcipal German 
 churches at Copenhagen \ and the charaBer 
 he bears is fiifficlent to ejlablifi its vera- 
 city. The fame miift be faid of the Hi^ 
 ftory of Count Brandt^ which was writ^ 
 ten by D. Hee. Thefe clergymen werefpeci- 
 ally appointed by the King of Denmark^ to 
 attend the two refpeolive Jlate pr if oners ; ajid 
 therefore the Englijh read:r is dejired to re- 
 move all unfavourable imprejjioits^ which are 
 generally annexed to publications of gaol ordi- 
 naries. 
 
 As to the tranfation^ the Tranfator Owns, 
 that it would be the higheft prefu?nption in 
 him to pretend to any elegance of fyle ; he 
 being a Foreigner^ who, but a few years 
 ago^ was entirely unacquainted with the 
 Englijlo language. Tie hopes^ therefore^ the 
 candid Englijh reader^ who is majier 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 niijlaken the original., which he 
 may be fuppofed to be in fome meafure 
 
 A3 a majier
 
 ( vi ) 
 
 a majler of^ from his education and profejjioriy 
 yet he has^ according to the rule of Horace^ 
 not tranflated word for word; and many 
 places where the good DoSlors appeared to him 
 a little declamatory^ and too prolix in explain- 
 ing fpeculative doBrines^ he has partly left 
 oiit-> and partly abridged-^ and he is now, after 
 the whole is finifiedifo far from thinking that 
 he has done wrong in thisrefpedl, that he rather 
 wijhes he had left out a great deal more, 
 Neverthelcfs-t every thing of importance is 
 tranflated, and thofe paffages which are Strii- 
 enfee's own words are, together with his 
 letter to D. Munter and all other letters 
 through the whole book, tranflated vtxh^iiim ; 
   and the Englifi reader, who is wholly unac- 
 quainted with the language of the original, 
 and therefore enabled to perufe the tranflation 
 only, may rely upon his reading a faithful one^
 
 vu 
 
 D. MUNTER's PREFACE. 
 
 MANY reafons have induced rae to re- 
 late the falutary reformation of 
 Count Struenfee. He has made much 
 nolfe in the world. Every thing that is 
 written ahout 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 
 refled: fcrioufly on religion and morality. 
 He himfclf wiflied that thofc, who 
 through him were feduccd to a contempt 
 of religion and morality, or were only mif- 
 led in their notions of religion and virtue, 
 might he made acquainted of his return to 
 truth and better fcntimcnts, and of the 
 manner in which he was reformed. He 
 
 hoped
 
 ( vlli ) 
 
 hoped that hy this means, thofe bad irri- 
 prefTions might be effaced, which he had 
 
 made upon their minds.- Laflly, his 
 
 conveiTion 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 pofTible in his 
 own words. 
 
 Some things which I relate may be 
 looked upon as trifliqg, but fenfible readers 
 will oftentimes find the charadler of a per-* 
 fon placed in a ftronger light by thefe 
 trifles, and then they ceafe to be fuch, and 
 do not deferve this name. 
 
 The
 
 { l^ ) 
 
 The books I gave from time to time to 
 the Count, and which he perufed with 
 attention, filled up many vacancies in my 
 inftru(ftion. They prepared him for that 
 which followed, and enlightened his un- 
 derftanding more in one month, than by 
 mere converfation could have been done in 
 twelve. 
 
 How 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 fheet was num- 
 bered and figned by them, and could reach 
 no other perfons hands but his. — But have 
 I didated to him the contents ? I declare 
 that it fully can be proved, that he, during 
 my abfence, 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 
 Vip, and which I publifli here, a true ac^ 
 
 count,
 
 ( =^ ) 
 
 count, is it agreeable to the original? 
 Whoever entertains doubts of this kind, may 
 infped; the original itfelf, which is in my 
 poiTeffion, or may take it along with him 
 for a time, fuHicient to compare it with 
 the copy. I thought it necelTary 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, wliofe 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 fhould fay, that Struenfee turned 
 chriftian through fear, or that he was out 
 of his mind, or that I fcunned him with 
 my declamations ; I muft leave it to them 
 to judge as they think proper. 
 
 My intention in publifhing what 
 
 Struenfee with his own hand has drawn 
 
 up, is to make it appear, that he himfelf 
 
 had attentively confidered his former fyflem 
 
 as well as chriftianity, and that, after fuch 
 
 a mature confideration, he was induced to- 
 quit
 
 ( xl ) 
 quit the ^former, and to embrace the 
 latter. 
 
 An accuracy in ideas and expreffions, 
 no body will exped: in the writings of a 
 man, who fcudied religion but a few 
 months, who through the w^hole courfe 
 of his former life thought very little of it, 
 and who never wrote a word about it. If 
 it fhould be found entirely wanting in 
 fome places, I hope every chriftian (and 
 every chriftian will judge according to 
 charity) will not charge him vnth herefy, 
 which was (even the name of it) unknov^^n 
 to him. The chief point, that he died 
 truillng in the mercy of God through 
 Chrift fefus, with fentiments as well re- 
 formed as could be done w^ithout a miracle, 
 I hope no body Vv'ill difpute. But I fcarce 
 dare to judge of the merit of this conver- 
 fion, fmce it concerns me too much, and 
 I wi(h too ardently that every one may 
 believe it to be a fmcere one; even this 
 Ihews me the danger I am in, of deceiving 
 myfelf in my opinion. Therefore, having 
 
 here
 
 i ^^ ) . 
 
 here faithfully given the narrative of this 
 converfion, I leave it to fenfible and judi- 
 cious chriftians to determine concerning the 
 probability of it, 
 
 I do not know vsrhether 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 
 againft 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 chriftian, will not forget what he 
 was before, and how inevitably he drew 
 his melancholy fate upon himfelf. 
 
 Copenha^en^ June the 22d, 1772^ 
 
 ERRATUM. 
 {*. 80. 1. 14. for noiv foiindi \&a.6 formerly thought* 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 CONVERSION 
 
 O F 
 
 COUNT STRUENSEE. 
 
 COUNT Struenfee had, neither before iio'r 
 during the time of his greatefl profperity, 
 fiiewn himfelf a religious or a moral rrian, at 
 leaft no one could think him to be fuch i hJs 
 own example, fome of his public regulations, 
 and his abolifhing fuch lav/s as were made 
 to reftrain vice and immorality, feefned clearly 
 to prove, that the general opinion concerning 
 his fentiments of religion was not altogether ill 
 founded. Whoever had the moll favourable 
 opinion of him, thought hirti an inconfiderate 
 man, who had given himfelf up entirely to 
 pleafure and ambition, and who perhaps mi2;ht 
 recover from his errors. But all leftfible people 
 agreed in this, that during his adminiftration 
 religion had every thing to fe^r, and that the 
 
 B morals
 
 ( 2 ) 
 
 morals of the people, at leaft in tlie metropolis, 
 were in danger of becoming wild and ungo- 
 vernable. 
 
 Thefe refledions occafioned many honeft and 
 good people, who are incapable of rejoicing at 
 the misfortunes of others, to look upon the 17th 
 of January, the day when Struenfee fell, as one 
 of the happieft days in their life : they fiiw 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 v/as fure his life would fall a facri- 
 lice 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 fentiments, they were to all appear- 
 ance very different. I had even to exped: that 
 my profefiion and the intent I vifited him with 
 would make him diftruft me ; on the other hand, 
 J 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 )■ 
 
 Veffation mth a clergyman not quite Infupport- 
 able ; and the compafTion 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 refpeds fin cere ; 
 I thought it therefore not impoffible to efta- 
 blifn 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^hejirjl Conference. March thejirfi^ ^17'^* 
 
 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 fhould 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 the attitude of a man 
 who was prepared to receive many fevere re- 
 proaches, with a filence that fliewed contempt. 
 We were alone, and I was greatly moved, be- 
 holding the mifery of a man who, but a few 
 
 B 2 weeks
 
 ( 4 ) 
 week's ago, was the firfl: and the mofl powerful 
 of all the King's fubjedls. 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 
 atn fure, never intended to be born for fuch a 
 misfortune. I fincerely wifli to make my vifits, 
 which I am ordered to pay you, agreeable and 
 ufeful. — Here he qifitted his affeded attitude, 
 his countenance grew more ferene, he gave me 
 his hand, and thanked me for the fhare I took 
 in his fate. Our converfation, continued I, 
 will be now and then difagreeable both to you 
 and me ; but I profefs mofl folemnly, that I 
 fhall tell you even thcfe melancholy truths, 
 which I have to communicate to you, wkhout 
 feverity, and even with pain to myfelf I know 
 I have no right to give you any unnecelTaiy un- 
 cafinefs, and you may depend upon my fincerity. 
 Should it happen that accidentally in our con- 
 verfation a word fliould 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 1 you may fay what you pleafe." 
 
 I (hall
 
 f 5 ) 
 
 I lliall certainly, good Count, fay nothing but 
 what my great defire to contribute towards your 
 future happinefs, as much as lies in my power, 
 lliall oblige me to. I wifh to raife your 
 attention to a ferious confideration of your 
 moral flate, and how you (land 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 fuke, but 
 only with an intent of bring ufeful to you. 
 He then confefied 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 rcfufe a man, wiio is 
 anxious for your welfare. I (liall return it with 
 the mod thankful friendfhip, although you in 
 the beginning fliould take me for a weak and 
 prejudiced man. I fhall not be tired in this 
 
 B 3 friend-
 
 ( 6 ) 
 
 friendfhip, but endeavour to make it iifeful 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 ejts, 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 cherifh that unhappy thought of 
 dying like a philofophical hero j for I doubt 
 whether you will be able to keep it up to the 
 end. I am afraid your courage will leave you 
 at lafl, though perhaps you may force yourfelf 
 to fhew it outv/ardly. Firmnefs and tranquiUity 
 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 
 fhevvn firminefs of mind, and agreeably to this 
 chara6ler, I hope I fhall die not like an hypo- 
 crite." Hypocrify, faid I, in fuch moments, 
 v;ould be flill worfe than an affefted firmnefs, 
 though even this would be a kind of hypocrify. 
 In cafe of death, do not trufl: to your former 
 refolution, and do not compare your former 
 adverfities, which were perhaps nothing but 
 ficknefs and diflrefs, 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 fhall leave this world ? Perhaps it is at fome 
 months diflance. 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 
 fhould leave you, and it was then too late to 
 look out for comfort and hope, how do you 
 think your heart would fland affefted ^ 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 exped 
 that we are not both of the fame opinion, in 
 regard to the flate of man after death. Yet, 
 though you might have perfuadcd yourfelf that 
 there is no life to come, and confequently neither 
 rewards nor punifhments, 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 pov/er 
 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 recoi- 
 led it. He owned the thought, that he fhould 
 foon 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 prifon. 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 fama 
 fentiments with him, 
 
 I continued. You cannot deny the poflibility 
 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 !r,ere rcafon, that eternity 
 is highly probable, which in fuch cafes amounts 
 almofl to certainty. But fuppofe it was only 
 probable, vvhich 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 fhould prepare yourfelf againfl it, 
 or make it at leaft tolerable. — He agreed to this, 
 but added, " You will hardly make me believp 
 
 that
 
 ( 9 ) 
 that there is" a future life, and though you 
 perhaps may convince my underitanding by 
 reafons which I cannot overthrow, my heart 
 however will not yield to the conviction. My 
 opinion, which is oppofue to your's, is fo 
 ftrongly woven into my fentiments ; I have fo 
 many arguments in favour of it ; I have made 
 fp many oblervations from anatomy and phyfic, 
 which confirm it, that I think it will be impofTible 
 for me to renounce m.y principles. This how- 
 ever I prom.ife, that I will not wilfully oppofe 
 your endeavours to enlighten me, but rather wilh, 
 us far as it lies in my power, to concur with you. 
 I will not diflcmble, but honeftly tell you of 
 what I am convinced, and of what I am not. I 
 .will deal with you openly ; this is my charadler, 
 and my friends cai) be^r witncfs to it." In our 
 enquiries, I defircd 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 milery. He 
 anfv/ered : 
 
 *' I do not deny my having lived inconfi- 
 derately in the world, and I feel now the con- 
 fequences of it." 
 
 I trull in your promife, added I, that you 
 will deal with me honeftly. If you did not, you 
 would impofe upon me, though perhaps but for 
 
 a few
 
 ( 10 ) 
 
 a few days. But you certainly cannot deceive 
 the Supreme Being and your own confcience. 
 It would give me the higheft pleafurc if my 
 intentions fhould fucceed. But bcfides the 
 afllftance of God, yoq muft do ail 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 v/ith 
 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 yoil 
 may eafily guefs how much I with 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 firft 
 animated this human machine ; but as foon as 
 its motion ceafed, that is, when m^an 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 
 aftions were determined only by his fenfations. 
 Therefore, man's a6lions 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 punilliments 
 after this life. He could not fee, why fuch 
 punifhments were neceffary to fatisfy the juftice of 
 God, even though he allowed that God minded 
 our aftions. Man was puniflied already enough 
 in this world for his tranfo-refiions. Me him- 
 felf v/as certa'nly not happy during the time of 
 his greateft profperity. He had, at leaft during 
 the laft mionths of it, to ftruggle with many 
 difagreeable pafTions. — One of his principal ob- 
 
 jedlions
 
 ( 12 ) 
 
 jeftions agaiiift chriftianity was, that it was not 
 univerfal. If it were really a divine revelation, it 
 abfolutely flioukl 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^ 
 wkh a kind of diffidence, " What book ?" 
 Jerufalem's Confiderations on the principal 
 Truths of Religion, faid I i a book which you 
 will read 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 aftions, and I thought proper 
 to encreafe his uneafinefs. I fuppofe my readers 
 know how much he was to be blamed for his 
 conduft towards count Bernflorf *. 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 Bernflorf was minifier of flate in Denmark 
 fi nee the year 1750. Struenfee got this great and beloved 
 minifter difmined, 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 1 8th of February, 
 1772. 
 
 charadler
 
 ( 13 ) 
 character of"-a great man to the laftj and it is 
 generally believed, that the grief of his laft 
 years had hafbened his death. When I fpoke 
 thi*^, I looked at him with an air which he 
 feemed to underftand, for he bluilied. 
 
 T^he fecond Conference. Mcwch 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. Befidt;s, as he looked upon eternity 
 as a mere fable, he could not regard religion 
 and morality. 
 
 I reminded him of his promiie, 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 tliere is in reality foun- 
 dation for. However, I prefume, you think 
 this opinion of yours is no more than a philofo- 
 phical hypothcfis, and in this view let us confider 
 it to day. It is not very neceflary to enter into 
 a particular confideration cf 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 exhauftcd
 
 < H ) 
 
 exhaufled all my arguments and reafonings, I 
 found they had but little efFed upon his under- 
 ftanding. At laft he owned, that the hypothefis, 
 of the exiflence of a foul, v/as better founded 
 than his. But he faid, he had good reafons to 
 maintain his former fentiments ; for the know- 
 ledge of m^an, was in general very uncertain. 
 He might, perhaps, hitherto have impofed 
 upon himfelf : but he v^ras liable, as often as he 
 adopted a new opinion, to be deceived. Befides, 
 his mind was, in his prcfent fituation, neither 
 compofed nor ferene enough to examine his 
 prefent principles. He lliould have done this 
 fooner ; it was now too late. Several things 
 being replied, the whole concluded with a feri- 
 ous and tender exhortation, not to let the few 
 laft 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 earneftly at 
 me, and cafting down his eyes, replied : 
 
 " You muft have a great deal of goodnefs, 
 humanity, and faithfulnefs of a minifter, fmce 
 you are fo anxious about my welfare, and are 
 not difplealed at my not agreeing with you 
 exadtly in opinion." 
 
 I affure you, continued T, I lliall not, until 
 the very laft day of your life, defift from exhort- 
 ing and intreating you, and I hope God will 
 
 blefs
 
 ( 15 ) 
 blefs mv endeavours. But, o-ood Count, I am 
 afraid of your unliappy 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 flill 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 fhewing itfclf as for- 
 merly are only wanting. But though it may 
 oppofe the truth, if you indulge it, yet take 
 heed, left defpifed truth Ihould 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 
 
 affli6led 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 ftate. 
 
 He anfwered, " My father is an honeft man, he 
 
 a(5ts 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- 
 o taken.
 
 ( i6 ) 
 taken. Without doubt you have been extrava* 
 gant from your very youth, which your honeft 
 father difapproved. 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, v»^ere you after cer- 
 tain years lefs fon, and he lefs father ? Confucius, 
 whofe moral fyftem, as 1 remember to have 
 heard, you prefer to that of Chrifl-^ 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 Cofjference. March the fifth. 
 
 "fTZHEN I came to the Count, I addrefled 
 him thus, — JVly heart tells me that we 
 fhall 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 
 
 * Confederations on the principal Truths of Religion. 
 To his Highnefs the Kereditary Prince of Brunrwic. 
 Vol. i. Third Edition. BrimJ-wic. 1770. 
 
 am
 
 ( i; ) 
 
 am come already to that meditatibn which con- 
 terns the morality of man. The book is ex- 
 cellently written, and I find nothing which 
 contradifts my reafon. I found fomething againfk 
 my opinion of man's being a machine •, but ftill 
 I think fenfibility proves it, and explains every 
 thing.'* I anfvvered, that the organs of our 
 fenfes were no more than mirrours and fpy-glafleSj 
 through which we obferved the objefts •, that 
 neither mirrour nor fpy-glafs could fee any thing ; 
 but there muft be a third, who obferved the ob- 
 jefls through thefe inftruments, 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 neceitary he fhould make 
 this confefTion before I could proceed any farther. 
 1 undertook therefore to prove, that the manner 
 in which his opinion had taken its origin, and 
 had intererted his heart fo much, tended neither 
 to his credit nor to his advantage. I looked upon 
 this as the beft means to expel one fliarrie by an-^ 
 other. — He interrupted me very fcldom during 
 the time I was fpcaking, but heard with much 
 attention, and owned that I had exacflly pointed 
 out the way which had led him to his opinion. 
 After a fhort paufe on both fides, during whic H 
 he feemed to be in a deep meditation, he calk-d 
 
 C out j
 
 ( is ) 
 
 out : " Oh ! I hope now, and wifli for immor- 
 tality." I guefled diredly that the reading of 
 Jerufalem had brought him fo far, and he foon 
 afterwards faid himfelf ; " It is impofiible not to 
 be brought over by that book.'* 
 
 As he now hoped and wifiied for immortality, 
 I thought it needlefs to enter into more ample 
 difquifitions about the exiftence, nature and im- 
 mortality of the foul. BefideSj I was afraid that 
 thefe fpeculative truths might detain us too long, 
 and miilead 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 : hov/ever, we talked 
 to-day about the arguments for the exiflence of 
 a foul. 
 
 The falfe eafe, which hitherto had rendered the 
 Count infenfible, and which v/as fupported by 
 his perfuafion of there being no future life, was 
 now interrupted. I thought it neceflary 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 
 wiflied for, he could not promife himfelf an 
 agreeable fate ; and for this purpofe his notions 
 of the morality of adlions v/ere to be redlified 
 firll. My readers will recoiled that he believed 
 
 human
 
 ( 19 ) 
 
 human a6tiofts only fo far good or bad as they 
 were attended with good or bad confequences to 
 fogiety. Before I could attack this propofition, 
 I thought proper to fhew how little, even accord- 
 ing to this principle, he Ihould be able to account 
 for his adions before God. I might at prefent, 
 faid I, leave your rule by which you judge of 
 the morality of aftions unmolefted. Your 
 aflions even then would not bear fcrutiny. I 
 was furprized when he anfwered : 
 
 ** I find now, that it is by far better and furer 
 to derive the motives of our aflions from God, 
 and to confider him as obferving them." 
 
 Saying this, he pointed at Jerufalem's book, 
 and I thanked in my heart this excellent man 
 that he had prom.oted my endeavours fo far. 
 
 In the mean time, I begged of the Count to 
 reflefl how immoral his aftions had been, even 
 according to his former principle of morality. 
 1 had now difcovered that fide where the wounds 
 of his confcience fmarted mod. He was not by 
 far fo much grieved at thinking that he liad 
 offended God, and made himfelf miferable, as 
 that he had ruined his friends v/ith him. This 
 fenfation of his I laid hold on, and endeavoured 
 to fupport and to increafe it. I hoped his pain 
 
 C 2 might
 
 20 ) 
 
 .might by degrees becon"K^ more iiniverfal, and 
 extend itfelf over his other crimes. 
 
 I had fcarcely began to touch him on this fide, 
 when lie burit into tears, and owned, that he 
 found himfelf in this refpect very culpable, and 
 was ablblutcly 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 muft even then be very difficult or rather im- 
 poffible to account ibr it before God. 
 
 " I acknowledge this," faid he, *' and there- 
 fore Ihall 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 refledl on God's 
 mercy, in which you trull, you will find that it 
 is this very mercy which makes it neceffary for 
 Iiim to be juft, and to fliew his averfion to moral 
 
 evil.
 
 ( 21 ) 
 
 evil. Such ifiercy 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, fmce your patience is not tired.'* 
 
 It certainly ftiall 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 ftiould 
 wifti to conceive good hopes of you, but I fear 
 without reafon. 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 
 v/ith comfort and a fair profped into eternity 
 Here he called our, with 4 deep-fetched figh : 
 " May God grant it !" 
 
 He added, " You wifti, and I believe from 
 oood reafons, that I might become a Chriftian." 
 
 To be fure, (replied I) I wifti it very much ; 
 but you know favours are not forced upon any 
 ^oJy J and it is natural for you to look out for the 
 
 C 3 greateft;
 
 { 22 ) 
 
 greatefi: that can be beflowed npon you. Learn 
 lirfl; 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, " hov/ can chriftianity 
 be the only way that is revealed by God for our 
 everlafting happinefs, fince it is fo little known 
 among mankind, and fince there are, even among 
 chriftians themfelves, fo few that keep its pre- 
 cepts ?" 
 
 From your firft doubts, faid I, you mean to 
 draw the inference, that it was againft the good- 
 nefs and juflice of God not to reveal to all men a 
 doflrine which is the only one that can render 
 man perfectly happy. But do you know v/hether 
 God will not fave 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 prefented with a blefling, which 
 he denied to others, think himfelf for this reafon 
 intitled not to mind this blefling:: or not to value 
 it, becaufe God has not given it to all men ? 
 Has he not diftributed all the bleflings of his 
 mercy unequally among men j for inftance, ho- 
 nour, riches, health, talents, and even the 
 kjiowledge of natural religion ? You fee by 
 
 this
 
 ( 23 ) 
 this that your objeflion proves more than you 
 intended. 
 
 From your fecond doubt you will conclude, 
 that, becaufe chriftianiry is obierved by fo very 
 few, therefore it cannot be a fufficient means to 
 anfwer the purpofe, it is faid, God intended it for, 
 and coniequently its origin cannot be a divine 
 one. But I would wifh you to obferve, that it is 
 a religion of free beings, and that they are under 
 no controul in a matter which concerns their 
 happinefs. Befides, prejudices, errors and pafTions 
 can render the ftrongell moral arguments ineffec- 
 tual. However, it cannot be denied that man- 
 kind, upon the whole, fmce 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, '' often 
 commit fins ! Shall, or can a man in this 
 world be perfedl ? and is the intention of chrifti- 
 anity to produce e{fe(5ls, which, as to our prefent 
 condition, are quite impoffible ?'* 
 
 There is a great difference between the fin of 
 a true chriftian, 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 tranfgrelTions and repeats them. 
 
 C 4 And
 
 ( 24 ) 
 
 And if there was but one chriftian only upon 
 the whole earth, whole life did honour to his 
 profelFion, it would be a fufficient reafon for 
 every one that knew him, to examine the relioion 
 of this only chrillian, and to adopt it when he 
 found it was well-grounded. He laid : " Oh ! 
 I have fo many of thefe doubts, that it will be 
 the moil difficult thing to latisfy them alj." 
 
 He uttered this with a mien that exprefled 
 great concern, and I thought proper to comfort 
 him by faying, that his doubts would leflen ac- 
 cording as he got more acquainted with chrifli- 
 anity. And if there Ihould be left ^n uncertainty 
 about fonic 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 fmcerity he Ihewed in his fearchinor 
 after truth j chriftianity concerned more the heart 
 than the underftanding. — T 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 his mind, he 
 afl^ed : 
 
 " Whether a hearty wifh, addrefled to God, 
 was not already prayer or adoration ?'* 
 
 I anfwered in the affirmative ; and after fome 
 exhortations took my leave, and gave him the book 
 
 of
 
 . ( 25 ) 
 
 of Reimariis on the principal do5Irines of natural 
 religion. 
 
 The fourth Conference^ 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- 
 fpe6l of it made upon him. He was concerned 
 about his moral condition, but not enough yet ; 
 at lead, not on account of the difpleafure of God, 
 which he was labouring under. He wiflied 
 chriftianity might comfort him, but he thought 
 it ftill an impofTibility to be fully convinced of 
 its truth. I now endeavoured to make chrifti- 
 anity necelTary to him, for reafons which were 
 derived from the mifery and danger he was in. 
 I intended to give him opportunity from time to 
 time, 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 refped, the morality of actions like- 
 wife, I undertook to convince him that human 
 aftions 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 confift in de- 
 termining onefelf according to the firfi 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 fuificiently ac- 
 quainted with it. I fhewed him, how impoflible 
 it was for man always to forefee and to regulate 
 the confequences of his adions, on account of 
 the infirmity and narrow bounds of our under- 
 flanding, and becaufe we are fo eafily blinded by 
 our paflions. 
 
 As to this laft reafon, the Count himfelf faid, 
 *' That paflions would overpower us, even then, 
 when we fee that the aflions to which they ex- 
 cite us can be detrimental to fociety. They would 
 perfuade us, that the confequences they might 
 be attended with are in our power j that by pre- 
 caution and ading fecretly, we might avoid 
 
 them.
 
 ( 27 ) 
 them. They Vould fupply us with various ex^ 
 CLifes, 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 a6lions is 
 to be determined; not becaufe God had ordered 
 that this adion or another fhould be abfolutely 
 good or bad, but becaufe his infinite underltan- 
 ding found them really fo from all eternity, even 
 without regard to men, created with liberty to 
 trefpafs againft his moral laws. 
 
 The next point I thought necelTary to be 
 proved was, that God had really revealed his will 
 about the morality of aftions. I would not 
 draw my arguments from the Bible, fmce I had 
 not yet proved it to be a divine revelation, but 
 rather from the di6lates of confcience. 
 
 This being done, as well as the nature of the 
 propofition would admit of, I anfwered the ob- 
 jedions which the Count made. The firft was, 
 " That though he had no inclination for raifins 
 any doubts, but fiiould rather endeavour to avoid 
 them •, yet the fincerity wherewith our confer- 
 ences were to be carried on, required him to 
 tell plainly, what he was not convinced of. 
 Therefore, he owned, that notwithltanding there 
 
 was
 
 ( 28- )) 
 
 was fuch moral fenfation in man, he. neverthelefs 
 was uncertain, whether it was born with hirtl*"^ 
 Perhaps it might be a certain prejudice ?" -"^ 
 
 If this was fo, repHed I, how could it happen 
 that this prejudice was an univerfal one, common 
 both to the virtuous and the wicked ? 
 
 « Perhaps then," faid he, " it is the effed of 
 experience or cultom, that we are ufed to con- 
 fider the a6lions of others, as relating to our- 
 fclves." My anlwer was, that this moral fenfa- 
 tion is found in man, before he is taught it by ' 
 experience and cuflom. 
 
 " And fuppofe," faid the Count, " we Ihould 
 find it a confequence of education ?" 
 
 Neither can this be, replied I, for it is in a 
 child prior to education. It is to be met with in 
 a favage Greenlander and a Hottentot, who rea- 
 sons on Ibme actions more foundly than nations, 
 whofe moral fenfations are tainted by education, 
 and by their way of living. 
 
 " He now owned, that the notion of morality 
 was born with us, and that it laid deep in our na- 
 ture. That it took its origin from our Creator, 
 and that we, by the didates of this inward feel- 
 ing, were informed of the will of God in regard 
 to good or bad actions." 
 
 Frora
 
 ( 29 ) 
 
 From what, he had faid, I now drew fome in- 
 ferences, and "told him, that in order to qualify 
 himfelf for God's mercy, it was necefiary to 
 fearch his former life, and to acknowledge his 
 faults and crimes. I was afraid to leave this felf- 
 examination entirely to himfelf-, and therefore 
 told him, that I fliould review with him his life, 
 tho' it was a difagreeable taflc for both ; hoping 
 he would afllfl: me therein with all fincerity. 
 He promifed to confefs every thing, and giving 
 me his hand, he faid, he would take me entirely 
 for his guide. 
 
 After fome filence on both fides, and amidfl: 
 his tears, he looked at me with an air that 
 betrayed both anxiety and confidence, and fiid, 
 " If my tears come only out of the right fource!" 
 
 Good Count, faid I, I fufpe6t the reafon why ' 
 you cry. It is certainly tiie misfortune which 
 you have thrown your friends into. This is 
 your tender fide, which pains, even when it is 
 but (lightly touched. Examine yourfelf, whe- 
 ther it is but perfonal friendfhip, or the remem- 
 brance of mutual erijoyed pleafures, or the for- 
 row of having loft the hope of their continuation ? 
 or, whether it is the confcioufnefs that you have 
 offended God, religion and virtue, in the per- 
 fons of your unfortunate friends. 
 
 He
 
 ( 30 ) 
 
 He confidered a while, and atlaft called out: 
 " Oh ! it is extremely difficult, to come to any 
 certainty in this point!'* 
 
 Not long after, he added: " I fear it is now- 
 too late to beg for God's mercy ! and per- 
 haps I do it in my prefent fituation out of ne- 
 celTity!" 
 
 I told him upon this, that though he had rea- 
 fon to reproach himfelf very much, that he had 
 fpent his whole life without thinking of God, or 
 endeavouring to make him his friend; yet there 
 was no diflinflion betwixt thofe that came early 
 and thofe that came late.« It was only the fmcerity 
 with which we feek for God's mercy. 
 
 He added, " Perhaps I do it out of com- 
 plaifance to you." To wliich I replied, that I 
 could fcarce believe this, becaufe he Ihed fb 
 many tears, and was fo forry and fo much con- 
 cerned. 
 
 After fome confideration, hefaid: " Of what 
 life would it be to me ? No, (here he took me by 
 the hand,) it is not out of complaifance to you.'* 
 He then faid : " I remember that in the inftrudlion 
 of chriflianity, which I received in my younger 
 days, I was told, a chriftian ought to die with 
 the utmoft chearfulnefs and confidence. But I 
 am fo anxious about doubts. They return al- 
 4 ways
 
 < 31 ) 
 
 ways again, notwithftanding I endeavour to re- 
 move them, and will not let them gain ground.** 
 
 I fufpeded, and found afterwards but too 
 juftly, that he was throv/mg out a hint about 
 fome firange 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 fnch inward feelings, if 
 there ever were things of that kind, could not be 
 looked upon as abfolutely neceffary, and as 
 thinp-s which muft inevitably follow. I knew 
 many fmcere 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 fiw 
 a pious man dying, who left this world in great 
 anxiety." 
 
 I continued, Good Count, thateafe of mind 
 whfch I wifli you, when you are dying, and 
 which it is pofiible you may attain, does notcon- 
 fift in a vifible joy •, it is rather a certain tran- 
 quillity of the foul, wliich 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," faid he, " has been my 
 former fyftem, and how fure was I, neverthelefs, 
 
 of
 
 ( V- ) 
 of its truth ! I was refolved, that if I fliould dier, 
 I would adhere to my principles; I would fup- 
 pofe them to be indiiputable, and would let 
 death approach without any further fcrutiny^ 
 And for this very reafon, I had begged to be 
 excufed 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 contradidts 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- 
 lifhed. " 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 promifcd I would look out for fuch oppor- 
 tunities. 
 
 I now wanted to conduft him further into 
 chriftianity, with whofe moral fide he was to be 
 firft made acquainted ; for, as to the dogmatic 
 cal part he knew already more of it, though he 
 thought it impolTible to believe its myfteries. 
 However, I was fure, that even here, he would 
 
 , become.
 
 ■( Z3 ) 
 become a beKever, 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 bed 
 to let him read the hiftory of Chrift. I told him, 
 I wifhed 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 prepoflefs you in his favour, when I 
 tell you, that even Vokaire, inclined as he is to 
 calumniate Chrift, does juftice to his moral cha- 
 rafter. " Does he ?" replied the Count. I will 
 read to you, continued I, fome paflages 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 
 prefcnt, fince it is difpcrfed through all the four 
 Evangelifts, and fince many places are wrongly 
 tran dated, 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 i and iince you yourfeif, probably, have 
 
 D abuled
 
 C 34 ) 
 abufed fome Scripture expreffions, to ridicule 
 and to make ajefl 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 ftile. 
 
 Cramer * had defired me to give his compli- 
 ments to the Count, and to tell him, that Count 
 Bernftorf had forgiven himj 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 
 arrefted ?" 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 finiihed Rcimarus's book. 
 During my abfence, he always employed the 
 greateit part of his time in reading thofe books 
 which I had brought him. 
 
 ^ * This eminent divine is now living at Lubeck. He 
 was formerly chaplain at the court of Copenhagen. 
 
 t Thefe Leaures on Morality, read in the univerfity of 
 Leipfic, by the late Mr. Gellert, were tranflated laft year into 
 French. See the Appendix to the 47th volume of the 
 Monthly Review, page 50S.
 
 ( 35 ) 
 
 ^he fifth Conference. March the tenth, 
 
 «»r FOUND the Count reading Gellert's Lec- 
 •*• tures on Morality, about whofe excellency 
 he did no: know how to exprefs himfelf properly. 
 He faid : 
 
 " Had I but a year ago read fuch books in 
 retirement from diffipation, I fhould 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 Gellert himfelf td 
 have been fuch a chriflian as is defcribed in the 
 book, which was chiefly written, to Ihew that 
 perfection a chriftian was to flrive for. I 
 reminded him of our agreement, to examine 
 more minutely his moral condu6t, in order to 
 convince him more of the greatnefs of his fms, 
 and the necefii.y of his repentance. 
 
 In a ferious exhortation, I begged of him to 
 acl now with all fmcerity -, and the Count then 
 began : 
 
 " I know very well that I cannot apologize for 
 my actions. But for this very reafon I wifh the 
 cxiftence of eternity, becaufe God, who kno^X-s 
 cxaftly the complication of circumftances and 
 the fttuation I have been in, will determine more 
 
 D 2 truly
 
 C 36 ) 
 
 truly and juflly the morality or immorality of 
 my a6lions, 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 conjedures, and 
 added : 
 
 *' That voluptuoufnefs had been his chief 
 paffion, which had contributed moft to his moral 
 depravity." 
 
 We will begin, faid I, with this paflion, and 
 fee to wiiat 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 
 TiO 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. Wiien he found the 
 confequences of his irregular life, he endeavoured 
 
 to
 
 C 37 ) 
 to reftore his health again by regularity and con- 
 tinence, in order to enjoy pleafiire the longer. 
 Having recovered health again, he indulged 
 himlelf in irregularities of voluptuoufnefs under a 
 mild government of reafon, and refrained himfelf 
 from abandoned extravagancies. What humiliated 
 him moft, 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 pafTion of his, I regulated 
 according to certain queftions. During the whole 
 enquiry, lie 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 fpecies of tranfgrefiion. 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 confeffion, and can contri- 
 bute to clear up his former way of thinking, and 
 fcrve to increafe the abhorrence of the vice of 
 lewdnefs. . 
 
 How much time has by your eager purfuit o( 
 plcalures been fquandered away, that might and 
 Ihould have been employed better ? — He gave for 
 gnfwer, 
 
 D 3 "I alwajie
 
 ( 38 ) 
 « I always impofed upon myfelf by thinking, 
 becaufe I could work very quick, and could 
 difpatch the bufinefs of my different llations in 
 life in Icfs time than many others, that therefore 
 the reft of my time ou^ht 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 aftions are left undone ? and 
 how infatiable have you been in your lull ? How 
 much have you meditated to procure yourfelf 
 |iew fenfual enjoyments ? 
 
 " To be overloaded with pleafures, is attended 
 v;ith an inevitable emptinefs, and to fill up the 
 vacancies miakes us ftudy variety of pleafures.'* 
 
 Hov/ much did you negled by this the im- 
 proving and forming of your foul and heart f 
 Remember the years you have Ipent 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 ihould have learnt at fchool. 
 Being at the univerfity, I lived now and then for 
 ■whole months together in diffipation and extn^- 
 vagancies, but then I kept to my ftudies 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 negledful has your lull made you to- 
 wards God, yourfelf, and other men, even in 
 thofe duties which your particular ftation 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- 
 illence. I might perhaps have often negleded 
 the particular duties of my refpeftive 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 luft have you lived, 
 or rather not lived, but only dreamt ? 
 
 " When I now recolle6t, 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. 
 nity as 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 perfedion between 
 man and beaft." 
 
 Has not your charader 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 effc6lual 
 fprings to promote virtue, and are an elTential part 
 of real happinefs ? 
 
 " In my younger years I was quite indifferent 
 towards goodfentiments and adions. Afterwards, 
 thouf^h I was perhaps pleafed when I had done 
 fomething which I thought to be good, yet I never 
 made any diflindlion 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-
 
 ( 41 ) 
 
 pHnciples, has-feduced young men to profligacy. 
 Many of them have loft their charafters, ruined 
 their conftitution, and even met death in their 
 purfuit of Inftful pleafures. Perhaps deftitute wi- 
 dows and orphan children, whofe hufbands and 
 fathers were killed by profligacy which yoq 
 taught them, are now crying to the all-knowing 
 God againft the author of their misfortunes ! 
 
 He acknowledged, in a very repenting man- 
 ner, he might be guilty of all thefe crimes. His 
 exprefllons, 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 
 occaflons^ 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 tliem afterwards eafy again about their 
 tranrgrefTions. None among thofe that I attacked 
 was At laft able to refift me, if fhe did not avoid 
 
 me
 
 C 42 ) 
 
 me prefcntly. I was never at a lofs how to con-« 
 quer \ though I mull 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 thofe, who through my fault had been tem- 
 porally ruined, from mifcry 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- 
 cer of beins; 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 icarcely had made enquiry, when I heard it 
 was dead. I mention this as a proof of his fmce- 
 rity. I continued : 
 
 And matrimonial ties, which according to the 
 unanimous opinion of all nations fliould be fa- 
 cred, I fuppofe you have broken. What aq 
 irreparable injury is hereby done to both parties ! 
 — and how much muft this injaftice have afflid- 
 ed the injured party .? Remorfe of confcience on 
 the fide of the feduced perfons was or will be the 
 confequence thereof. Wherewith v/ill you excufe 
 yourfelf, if grief or defpondency Ihould be hurt- 
 
 4 f»*
 
 ( 43 ) 
 ful to the healch or the life of the injured ? Is not 
 matrimonial happinefs and domeftic peace fre- 
 quently difturbed by thefe your tranfgrefTions ? 
 
 « 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 furHcient, 
 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 produftivc, even after 
 your death, in families that might have remained 
 happy, if you had left them undifturbed ? Have 
 you never ufcd unnatural means to fatisfy your 
 voluptuous paffions, or to prevent their difagree- 
 able and unexpected confequences ? He faid : 
 
 " In his younger years he had indulged him- 
 felf in every thing his pafllon 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
 
 ( 44 ) 
 little while that you have offended God extremely, 
 by creating fo much niilchief in the world. Re- 
 fie6l rather on this quellion only. How has my 
 luilful paffion rewarded me, after having ferved 
 it fo faithfully ? You are rev/arded with tranfitory, 
 difgullful joys, which never have fatisfied your 
 defires -, with difiain, contempt, and reproaches 
 of all fober people that knew of your wicked 
 life j with imprifonment and fetters, with a 
 premature and ignominious death.— — Pray 
 now, confider ferioufly, fuppofe I and every 
 body were to live in this manner, what would 
 become of human fociety ? — He anfwered, 
 
 *' I foolifnly 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 unrellrained 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 ftrid and more folid ^ And laflly, 
 are thefe great ones the whole fociety, or are they 
 not the fmalleil part of it, and if numbers are to 
 be confidered, the moft inconfxderable part ? 
 
 During
 
 ( 45 ) 
 During the whole time of this converfation, 
 the Count was very much moved, and ready to 
 cry. I faw how afFedling and humiliating the fcene 
 of his pad life was to him. 
 
 " How is it poflible, 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 
 courfe of his former life more minutely, and left 
 him for this purpofe further v/ritten inftruclions. 
 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 fpare no pains to get convinced.'* 
 
 Upon this I told him, that the grace of God 
 would aflift his endeavours, and that his doubts 
 would ceafe in time. He then darted three ob- 
 jetflions : the firll, why the immortality of the 
 foul was not taught in the writings of Mofcs ? 
 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
 
 r,46 ) 
 
 •that in the writings of Mofes no mention was mad* 
 of the immortality of the foul, it did neverthe- 
 lefs by no means follow, that this doflrine was 
 unknown to the Jews, or that the truth of it was 
 lefs certain. And as for his fecond and third ob- 
 je6lions> 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, fince they were more adapted 
 to inform men of the exiftence of what is above 
 their conception, than to expfefs fully the nature 
 of the myftery. 
 
 Tbejixth Conference, March the twelfth, 
 
 T Now conduced the Count to the fecond great 
 ^ fource of his tranfgrefilon, which, I thought, 
 was his ambition. You had, faid I, too great 
 an opinion of your underftanding, and of the 
 goodnefs of your intentions, Vv^hich at the bottom 
 were but means to fatisfy your chief paffion. He 
 replied : 
 
 " He had been fo weak, as to let himfelf be 
 perfuaded by a perfon tliat 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 fmce 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 himfclf convinced of the 
 goodnefs of his intentions, though he muft own 
 he had purfued principles which ought to be re- 
 jefted, 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 pafTion ; 
 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 v/hat danger he had 
 expofed the fubjecls of the King, pr.rticularly 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, fmcc he knew inftanccs wherein even 
 the fight only of fuch preparations had prevented 
 and quelled diilurbances. But now, when he 
 
 con 
 
 Cu
 
 ( 45 ) 
 confidered matters more coolly, he fiiw very well 
 that he might have been the author oF great mil- 
 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 lafl ? 
 —What an unconflitutional power he had arro- 
 gated to himfelf ? &;c. 
 
 The two chief pafiions of the Count, volnp- 
 tuoufnefs and ambition, being accompanied with 
 great inconfideratenefs, I reminded him of his 
 inconfiderate treatment of religion, and how he 
 had made a jeil of the moft ferious things in the 
 world, and ftudied perhaps to communicate his 
 opinions to others. To which he gave for 
 anfwer : 
 
 " He could not deny that religion had fre- 
 quently been with him a fubjeft of ridicule. Bui 
 he had been guilty of this kind of inconfiderate- 
 nefs, mollly in the company of fuch perfons as 
 were already prejudiced againft religion. He 
 never had made it his bufmefs to make prole- 
 lytes, though he had made no fecret of his irre- 
 ligion. He acknov/ledo-ed himlclf in all this 
 culpable before God and his confcience." 
 
 After fcveral other quellions, I aflced the Count 
 
 how he could prefume to fit at the helm of 
 
 ^ government.
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 government, when he knew himfelf by no means 
 qualified for it, being without knowledge of the 
 laws, and the language of the country, and ncv^v 
 o-iving himfelf the trouble to learn either. I 
 charged him with having given new laws incon- 
 fiderareiy, abolifhing old ones without reafon. 
 I blamed him for having dilcharged old and ap- 
 proved of minillers of ftate, and chufing new 
 ones, without knowing them, and trufling in them 
 without being fure of their being honeft men ; 
 only becaufe he thought they would prove them- 
 felves to be his friends. 
 
 When I told him, that he never had cared foi* 
 the morals of the nation, but rather promoted 
 immorality by bad examples, by giving opportu- 
 nities to do evil, and even by making laws tend- 
 ing to promote it, he faid : 
 
 « He always believed, that it belonged only 
 to the clergy to mind the morals of the people* 
 He judged of the fentiments of the nation by his 
 own, and imagined that every one, like himfelf, 
 looked upon pkafure and an unreftrained life as 
 the only happinefs." 
 
 When I reprcfented to him, that during his 
 adminidration there was, efpecially in the metro- 
 polis, an entire flop to trade, he replied : 
 
 ti 
 
 He
 
 ( 5^ ) 
 ** He had been fenfible of that, and it was * 
 no matter of indifference to him, for he hacl 
 been thinking how to open new ways to promote 
 
 trade." 
 
 When I aflced him how it was pofiible for him 
 to fee the univerfal difcontent, and to be fenfible 
 of it, to be cautioned by friends and foes, and 
 neverthelefs to negle6l all this, he anfwered : 
 
 " He had always made himfelf eafy, by the 
 hopes that this difcontent would ccafe atlaft, and 
 that the meafurcs he had taken would keep him 
 fafe." 
 
 Though all thefe reproaches were fevere and 
 very humiliating, the Count feemed, neverthe- 
 lefs, not to be offended by them. Now and then 
 he would fay fome things in his excufe, which 
 were nothing to me, becaufe they did not relate ta 
 what I had in view, and which I was not a judge 
 of. However, he was upon the whole full of 
 repentance, though he thought he could apolo- 
 gize for fome particular parts of his political 
 condudl. 
 
 *' He expreffed his anxiety, that he thought 
 his repentance was not ferious enough, or at leaft 
 that he was more forry on account of fome tranf- 
 greffions than others.'* 
 
 I anfwered.
 
 ( 5' ) 
 
 i anrwerecl> this fear of his was a good fign, 
 and a proof of the lincerity of his repentance. 
 I reminded him of God's mercy towards him, 
 fince in his prifon he had time and opportunity 
 to confider his former aclions, and to repent of 
 his crimes. I afked what might have becom.e 
 of him, if an alTaflination had taken place, which 
 he was fo often threatened with, and which fo 
 eafily could have been put into execution ? 
 
 Since the lafl conference, the Count had read 
 the two firft parts of the hiftory of Chriil, and I 
 enquiring how he liked the man ? he faid : 
 
 *' His morals and his perfonal condu6t are 
 excellent. The firft are undoubtedly the bed ad- 
 vice for men to make themfelves happy in all 
 fituations of life. Here and there I found fome- 
 thing which I did not underftund, and which per- 
 haps is to be explained from the manners and con- 
 dition of thole times. But I have met with many 
 things that have aftedted me much. It has humi;. 
 liated me to find here many good things, which 
 I had learned in my youth from Scripture, and 
 which I afcerwards believed I owed to the read- 
 ing of other books." 
 
 When I enquired of him, if it was likely that 
 a man whofe life and morals were Jo excellent, 
 and who acled fo difmtereftedly (•" and, as he 
 
 E 2 added
 
 ( 52 ) 
 
 added himfelf, who lacrificed his life to Con- 
 firm the truth of what he preached") was capable 
 of impofing upon the world by falfe miracles, 
 he anfwered : 
 
 ' *' No ! it is quite improbable." 
 
 I then told him that there are two ways to get 
 convinced of the truth of the chriftian religion. 
 The firft and the more fure one, was a conftant 
 pradice of Chriil's precepts. By this a man 
 may be convinced by his own experience of the 
 excellency of his religion. The other was, 
 a candid examination whether Chrifl; had proved 
 himfelf to be a true meffenger of God, by deli- 
 vering a do6lrine which was worthy of God, and 
 by performing undoubted miracles. As to the 
 do6trine, he had owned already that it was really 
 divine-, and if the greareil of his miracles, his re- 
 furredion, could be proved, it followed in courfe, 
 that the reft of his mjracles were true, or at leaft 
 could be fo. 1 told him it was necefTary for him 
 to examine the evidences in behalf of this mira- 
 cle himfelf; and for this purpofe I fhould give 
 him a book which v/as written by a deift, wlio 
 was induced to turn chriftian after examining the 
 refurredion of Chrift. 
 
 The Count feemed to be greatly pleafed by 
 this ; and I left him with fanguine hopes, after 
 
 I had
 
 ( 53 ) 
 I had given KiTn the third and fourth parts of the 
 Life of Chrift. 
 
 'Xhefeventh ConfereJice. March the fourteenth, 
 
 /^^Eneral Lieutenant Holbcn, the commander 
 ^-^ of the caftle where the Count was prifoner, 
 told me, that fince my laft vifit he had been very 
 uneafy : That he frequently on a fudden ftarted 
 from the couch upon which he ufed to lie during 
 the whole time of his imprifonment : That he 
 had been fittins; for half an hour together, hano-- 
 ing down his head, buried in deep tlwughts, and 
 fobbing had flied a great many tears. When I 
 entered the prifon, I found him reading Gellert, 
 ajid reading indeed I always found him whenever 
 I came. 
 
 (( 
 
 I muft be quite deprived of all my reafon, 
 faid he, if I did not own, that I fliould have 
 lived as this book teaches me. Oh ! had I but 
 read fuch books in the days of my profperity, I 
 am fure they would have convinced and reformed 
 
 me." 
 
 His countenance exprefled great concern, 
 fhame and uneafinefs. And when I allied him 
 how he did, he replied : 
 
 " I am very uneafy fince yefterday. I cannot 
 ferioufly enough repent of having led fo bad a life, 
 
 E 3 and
 
 ( 54 ) 
 and having a6ted upon fuch wicked principles, 
 and uled means fo detrimental. My prefent 
 condition, and even my death do not concern me 
 fo much as my bafe adions ! And it is quite im- 
 pofiible to make any reparation for what I have 
 done to the world. — Pray, my dear friend, do not 
 be tired, and do not leave me." 
 
 Though I had the greateit compaflion towards 
 him, yet I thought I had not reafon enough at 
 prefent to make him quite compofed. But when 
 he feemed to be afraid his repentance might be 
 too late, I comforted him in this refpeft, and 
 promifed to fliew myfeif his friend to the very 
 lafl. My intention by this vifit was to give him 
 opportunities to recolleft his former life, and to 
 point out to him the way for a ferious repentance; 
 but the uneafinefs I found him in, would not al- 
 low me to a6l fo ferioufly as I intended. Among 
 other fubjedls which we were talking upon, was 
 the pain and grief which he had caufed to his 
 honed parents from his earlier days, and now in 
 particular towards the latter end of his life. I 
 entreated him to confider how often he had 
 offended them by his difobedience and obftinacy, 
 and made them grieve about his open contempt 
 of all religion. — What anxiety, continued I, muft 
 you have caufed to thefe venerable perfons, by 
 i^jiofe inconfiderate fteps you have taken during 
 
 % • your
 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 your refidence'ln this metropolis ! — Every news 
 of the too hafiy increafe of their fon's prolperity, 
 of the means he got at it, and the ufe he made of 
 his power, muft have flruck a kind of deadly 
 terror into them ! — They muft have trembled 
 every day on account of the danger which 
 threatened their fon •, and into what an unfpeak- 
 able grief muft your fudden fall have thrown 
 them ! — How dreadful muft their expedation be 
 on account of the iflue of your affairs, and the 
 danger your foul is in! — How humiliating to 
 them will be the manner of vour death ! Will 
 they ever be comforted, and might it not fhorten 
 their lives ? And who is the author of all this ? are 
 not you, their fon ! 
 
 I had had, for feveral days, a letter of 
 the father * of the unfortunate Count in my 
 pocket, and I thought this n:;oment the propereft 
 to deliver it. The whole letter is as follows : 
 
 " I could 
 
 * The accounts which are given in news papers and ma- 
 fgazines of the father of Count Struenfe.- being fo imperfect, 
 and full ot milVeprefentation', the tranflator, who is perfo- 
 nally acquainted with him, will give here a fliort lk.erch of 
 his life. D. Adam Struenfee, the father of the Ccuut, was 
 born in the year 1708, at New Ruppin, a fmall town, in 
 the dominions of the King of Pruflia. He was foon fent to the 
 grammar fchool at Brandenburg, where he was till the year 
 1727, when he went to the univerfity at Halle, which he ex- 
 changed the following year for that of Jena. In the year 1730 
 the Count of Witgenftein made him one of his chaplains at 
 Berleburg. He was but one year in this ftation before he 
 
 E 4 was
 
 ( 5^ ) 
 " I could wifn that thefe lines, if poQible, may 
 reach you, that you may read and confider. The 
 me anchojy, grief, and anxiety of your parents, 
 
 on 
 
 was chofen re(r(or of a parlfh in the fuburbs of Halle, in 
 Saxony. He quitted this living but a few months after for 
 another rectory in the city of Halle, which he likewife gave 
 up foon after, another living in the fame city being ofiertd 
 to hi.T), and of which he accepted. He then v as made pro- 
 (efCor in divinity of the Univerfity, in which capacity of 
 profcfTor and rettor he got a great name, and became very 
 eminent, and m.uch beloved. In the year 1757, tne late King 
 of Denmark gave him the principal reiSory j^t Altona, and 
 appointed him prefident of the ecclefiallical confillory of 
 Altona and the county of Pinneberg. His talents and merits 
 promoted him in the year 1760 to one of the moll eminent 
 preferments in the Lutheran church, for he became prefident 
 of the ecclefiallical council, general-fuperintendant (or 
 biiTiop) of the two dukedoms Schlefwig and Holftein, to 
 which are annexed the deanries of Gottorp, Rendfburg, 
 Huf:;m, and Schwabfted. He now, at this very time, en- 
 joys all thefe prefermen;s, and his fi:<ed refidence is at Rendf- 
 burg, a fortified town in Hoiilein, where the tranflator 
 vifited him in the year 1766. He is a very perfonable, tall 
 man, has a ferious countenance, is a good pulpit orator, 
 whofe difcourfes are more calculated for edification than for 
 fhining eloquence. He has the promoting of practical reli- 
 gion particularly in view. Many are his writings and puhli- 
 cations, which are moftly calculated for the fame purpofe. 
 He married, in the year 1732, Mary Charles, only daughter 
 of John Charles, then phyfician in ordinary to the Count of 
 Witgenftein, a lady of fingular merit, virtue and piety. It is 
 faid, that the fate of her fons afFecled her fo much, that /he 
 lately died of grief. She was mother of eight children, 
 
 1. Ellfabeth, born 1733, and m.arried to a clergyman at 
 Brandenburg. 
 
 2. Charles Angud, born 1735. He was pro felTor of ma- 
 thematics at Lignitz, in Sileha. His brother, the Count, 
 called him in 1771 into Denmark, and made him counfellor 
 of jufticc. He was made prifoner of fiate with his brother, 
 but afterwards fet at liberty again. He has publilhed a 
 4yell written treatife on fortification. 
 
 ?• Johi\
 
 ( SI } 
 on account o& their Ions ■% 1 am not able to 
 exprefs. Our eyes fwim in tears, day and night* 
 Our fouls cry for mercy to God without ceafing. 
 But I will fpeak no more of this. There is but 
 one thing which lies heavy upon my mind, and 
 
 that 
 
 3. John Frederick, the unhappy Count, whofe name will 
 be recorded in the annals of Denmark, was born the fifth 
 of Auguft, 1737, at Halle. He was educated in the fchools 
 of the famous orphan houfeof D. Franke, and in the univer- 
 fity at Halle, where he ftudied phyfic. He went with his 
 father to Alton a, where he foon became royal phyfician of 
 the counties ofRanzau andPinneberg, and procured himfelf 
 by his profeffion and induftry a moderate independency. In 
 the year 1768, the fifth of April, the King of Denmark 
 appointed him to be his phyfician in ordinary, who was to 
 attend him during his travels through Germany, England and 
 France. This laid the foundation of his following profperlty. 
 He got intimately acquainted with the young monarch, was 
 always about him, and infinuated himfelf into his particular 
 favour. He was made Lcileur Royal, and in 1769, the 12th of 
 May, aflual counfellor of ftate. In 1770, the 19th of May, 
 he was appointed counfellor of conference, and Maitre de 
 requetes ; and in July, 1771, he became prime minilter. 
 The fame month he was raifed to the dignity of a Danifli 
 Count, and the Queen invefted him wixh the order of Ma- 
 tilda. In 1772, the 17th of January, he became prifoner of 
 Hate, and loll his life the 28th of April. 
 
 4. Samuel Adam, born 1739, lives with his father. 
 
 5. Mary, born 1744, is married to a clergyman at 
 Shlefwig. 
 
 6. Harriet, born 1745, died very young. 
 
 7. Chriitian, born 1746. 
 
 8. Gothiif, born 1752. He fludied at Gottingen, but 
 the Count, his tjroiher; called him from thence, and made 
 itim lieutenant in the King's guards. He was likewife ar- 
 reted, but fet at liberty again under condition of quitting the 
 Danifli dominions. 
 
 * It muft be remembered, that two brothers of the 
 Count vvere likewife arfefted with him.
 
 ( 58 ) 
 that of your much afflifted mother. You know 
 our fentiments. You know our intention when 
 we edticated you. You remember how often 
 and how ferioufly we inculcated this great truth, 
 that godlinefs is profitable unto all things. 
 
 As often as I had occafion to fpeak to 
 you, even then, v<^hen you were in a public 
 character, I reminded you of the omni- 
 prefent God, and exhorted you to be careful in 
 preferving a good confcience. Your own heart 
 will tell you, how far you have lived up to the 
 exhortations of your father. 
 
 It is already a long while that your parents 
 have been in great anxiety about you. Since we 
 lead a retired life, and have very few acquain- 
 tance, and you yourfelf have written nothing 
 about your circumftances, the prayers and fighs 
 of our ftraitened hearts have afcended to God in 
 fecret, and in our anxiety we cried, that your foul 
 might not be loft. Three different times, at 
 Halle, Gedern, Altona, you were looked upon as 
 a dead man, by thofe that ftood about your fick 
 bed. God has faved you and preferved your 
 life : Certainly with that only intent, to prepare 
 you in this time of grace for an happy eternity. 
 The fame is now the chief intention of your 
 gracious Redeemer, in your prifon. You are 
 
 his
 
 ( 5^ ) 
 
 his creature, heloves you, you are redeemed by 
 the blood of Jefus. God is a reconciled father. 
 You are baptized in the name of the Trinity. 
 He will make an everlafting covenant v/ith you, 
 and he will not defift from doing good to you. 
 Return to your God, my fon, he will not hide 
 his face of grace from you. Mind the voice of 
 your confcience, and the convidtion which the 
 Spirit of God produces in your foul. Pray to 
 God that he may difclofe to you the true inward 
 ftate of your foul, that you, enlightened by God, 
 may fee how much you are corrupted. Employ 
 the folitude you are in now, to fearch your whole 
 life in the fight of the all knowing God, that you 
 may fee how great and how detefiable your fins 
 are. Do not flatter yourfelf Be rigorous with your- 
 felf. Accufe yourfelf and judge yourfelf before 
 the tribunal of God, whilft you are flill enjoying 
 this time of grace. 
 
 When you fhall feel your fins to be a heavy 
 burden, your heart then will humiliate itfelf 
 before God, you will pray for mercy, and you 
 will ferioufly deteft and abhor your tranfgrefTions. 
 You then will fee the great importance and 
 nectffity of the redemption of Chriil, You then 
 will take refuge in him who receives finners, who 
 was made to be fin for us, who has paid the debts 
 of Qur fins, and fuffered their punilhment, that 
 
 we
 
 ( 6o ) 
 
 we might be made the righteoufnefs of God in 
 him, and might have redemption through his 
 blood, the forgivenefs of fins, according to the 
 riches of his grace. Still the blood of Chrift 
 fpeaks for you. He that is merciful, ftill 
 ftretches forth his hands. Without Jelus there 
 is no falvation. He is the caufe of it. Even 
 for your fake he has received gifts. You may 
 have in him righteoufnefs for your peace of mind 
 and for your fandification. O that Jefus might 
 be glorified in your heart. In him we have 
 happinefs vvhilft we live, whilft we fuffer, whilft 
 we die, and after death. 
 
 Your mother gives her love to you. She 
 weeps, — flie prays with me, for our unfortunate 
 fons. My fon, my fon, how deeply do you afflict 
 lis ! Oh! could we but have this only comfort, 
 that our fons turned with all their heart unto the 
 Lord, and that we with joy might find them 
 ^gain in eternity before the throne of the Lamb ! 
 
 Your crimes, which brought you into prifon, 
 are not properly and fufficiently known to us. 
 What is talked of and read in public about you, 
 is of fuch a nature that your parents condemn 
 and detefl it. Oh ! I wifli to God, you had 
 remained a phyfician. Of your rife to honours wd 
 '^ere informed by the news papers j but it was 
 
 no
 
 ( ^I ) 
 
 RO matter of joy to us ; we read it with grief. 
 Oh ! that you had kept, in all your tranfaftions, 
 a clear confcience v/irh much wifdom, piety, and 
 humility, for the good of Denmark, and that 
 you might have fubmitted with all due fub- 
 je6tion, to all the commands of your Sovereign. 
 We cannot altogether judge about this matter 
 for want of information. But know, that tho' 
 we love our children, we neverthelefs do not 
 approve of their crimes, nor will we excufe or 
 palliate them, or call them good ; we rather hate 
 all fins, detelt, condemn, and abhor them, and 
 praife God when he manifefts his jufl v/rathover 
 the wicked, and (hews his mercy to the repenting 
 and the faithful. The Lord our God be your 
 phyfician in your imprifonmcnt, and cure 
 thoroughly the wounds of your foul. 
 
 We your parents recommend you to the love 
 of the Lord that has m.ercy on you. May Jefus, 
 who is a companionate High-prieft, remember 
 you for good at the right hand of God, that you 
 may receive mercy before the throne of grace, 
 and be pardoned unto everlafting falvation. Yea, 
 Jefus ! thou great friend of mankind, who wilt in 
 no wife caft out him that comes to thee, help 
 parents and children to life everlafting !" 
 
 Rcndjlurgy M^;\-/^ the 4th, 1 77 2.
 
 C 62 ) 
 
 When I told the Count that I had a letter f'rorii 
 his father to him, he took it with a kind of 
 easernefs, and began to read. But he had not 
 half finifhed 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 •, I will begin again by and by.'* 
 
 My anfwer was, Read it by yourfelf, and 
 read it often. It is a letter of an honeft, 
 affii6led, and tender parent. Endeavour to com- 
 fort your virtuous father and your pious mother, 
 by a chriilian-like anfwer. You know very well 
 what alone can comfort them. 
 
 " Oh ! my God,'* faid he, in a manner which 
 cannot be exprefled, " I cannot write to them, I 
 do not know how I fhall act 1" 
 
 You will have time, replied I, to confider 
 about this. — He afterwards praifed his father for 
 being an honefb man, whofe adions agreed with 
 his fentiments, and his mother for being a 
 matron, that deferved reverence and was really 
 pious. He faid, fhe had given him the beit 
 opportunity to learn by her own example, pra(51:i- 
 cal chriftianity. He begged of me, " To write 
 foon to his parents, to tell them the whole truth 
 how I found him, and to afliire them that he 
 would do his beft, and had the beft intention, to 
 
 die
 
 (. ^3 } 
 
 die like a chriftyin." — He was fo much affefled, 
 that he was fcarcely able to pronounce thele 
 words. 
 
 I had now given him opportunities enouo-h for 
 felf-examination. His repentance was really 
 fincere, and I could truit in it fo much the more, 
 as he was a man of cool blood, and one 
 who, through principles and pradlice, had ob- 
 tained great power over his paffions, and who 
 certainly could not have been moved by any 
 thing elfe, but by ferious remonftrances of his 
 confcience. I reminded him of that hope, which 
 he formerly had entertained, that God v^ould 
 fliew him mercy on account of his philofophical 
 repentance. I dcfired him to tell me whether 
 he thought this Itill to be true ? He hardly 
 knev/ what to anfwer, but at lad, he faid : " I 
 feel it too mush, that I have no grounds for fuch 
 a hope, I am no more inclined to deceive myfelf." 
 
 . I now wanted to make him acquainted with* 
 the proofs of chriftianity ; for which purpofe, I 
 had brought him Wefl's Obfervations on the 
 Hiftory and Refurrcdlion of Jefus Chrift. I 
 defired him to read with attention. And if he, 
 fhould find, that there vv^as the greatefl: credibility 
 in the hiftory of the refurreftion of Chrift, he then 
 Ihould an< his reafon, whether he had no obli- 
 
 gation
 
 ( 64 ) 
 gat ion to believe him, that was rifen, to be ^ 
 meflengcr of God to men, and his dodlrine to 
 be true and divine? 
 
 l^he eighth Conference. March the i6th, 
 
 Tt/rY firft queftion was: Is it probable that 
 -*■"-■■ fins fhould be puniflied in a future world 
 which vVere committed wilfully, which were 
 often repeated, and which were terrible on ac- 
 count of their confequences ? 
 
 He anfwered, " That if one looked upon it 
 with mere reafon, it fhould feem probable that 
 the uneafmefs of confcience and the natural 
 confequences of fins, were fufficient for their 
 punifliment.'* 
 
 Many reafons being produced on my fide^ 
 and among the reft, that many went out of this 
 world without any remorfe of confcience at all ; 
 the Count gave his obje<5lion up. And when I, 
 at the conclufion of thofe arguments which are 
 in favour of rewards and punifhments, propofed 
 the queftion : Why even a finner who difap- 
 proves of all religion, is at leaft then afraid, 
 when he fees certain death before his eyes ? 
 
 The Count faid : " It might perhaps be 
 nothing elfe but that ftatural fear of death which 
 
 is
 
 t 65 ) 
 
 IS corrimon to all.'* But he found afterwards 
 this objeftion removed by his own experience ; 
 for he owned he was now lefs afraid oh account of 
 his death than of his fins. However, he believed 
 he (hould have died with very little fear, even if 
 we had not got acquainted, and he had not read 
 thofe books I brought him. 
 
 When I endeavoured to proVe that mere re- 
 pentance is not fufficient to fatisfy divine juflice 
 refpefling our crimes, and afked what he would 
 think of a judge who fhould pardon every crimi- 
 nal when he fhewed figns of a ferious repentance ; 
 he anfwered, " he fhould think him to be a 
 good man though a weak one, who was neither 
 juft nor wife, and unfit to be a judge.'* 
 
 Upon this, ! undertook to convince him that 
 mere repentance, or reparation of damages, or 
 reformation of life, were infufHcient to expiate 
 our fms before God : I concluded, that thefe 
 three mentioned means, which reafon recom- 
 mends for obtaining pardon, are infufficient. 
 
 I afterwards told the Count, that though he 
 could not repair the damages he had done, 
 becaufe he was fo near eternity, he neverthelefs 
 could ftill do fomething which refembled, in 
 fome refped, a reparation ; and this was, that 
 he fhould endeavour to efface thofe bad impref- 
 
 F fions
 
 ( 66 ) 
 
 fions he had made upon the minds of the people, 
 by (hewing himfelf now quite a different man in 
 his converfation and his whole behaviour. The 
 Count affured me, " that he himfelf already 
 had thought this to be his duty. He had fpoken 
 to an officer about the moral dodrines of chrif- 
 tianity, and exhorted him to obey them ftridly. 
 But hehad not fpoken like a fully-convinced chrif- 
 tian, for he was none yet, and he thought he 
 had no right to play the hypocrite." He added, 
 " that he heartily wilhed he could only con- 
 tribute fomething towards the reformation of 
 thofe of his friends, v/hofe morals and fentiments 
 he had corrupted by his example and by his 
 converfation." 
 
 When I had proved that faith in Chrift was 
 the only way for reconciliation, I enquired of 
 him hov/ he had found the evidences of Chrift'.s 
 refurrection. 
 
 " You know," anfwered the Count, " that 
 for fome days pad my m.ind has been very un- 
 eafy and my body fick. I confefs both have 
 hindered me from reading that part of the book 
 with fufiicient attention, which examines and 
 compares the circumftances of the rcfurredion of 
 Chrift. However I have found in the latter part 
 the following arguments, which have made a 
 
 great
 
 (• ^r ) 
 
 great imprefTibn upon my underftanding. The 
 difciples of Chrift were not credulous, but were 
 with difficulty convinced of the refurreflion of 
 Chrift by the unanimous teftimoriy of all their 
 fenfes. The Jews never examined the affair 
 judicially, though they had the belt opportunity 
 for it, and it v/as their intereft to fhevv it was 
 fiftitious. I like wife look upon the propagatiori 
 of chriftianity as another argument of the truth 
 of Chrift's refurredion ; for if it had not beeri 
 certain that Chrift had rifen, chriftianity could 
 not have fpread fo quick and fo far as it haS 
 done. The doflrine of Muhamed is in reerard 
 to its propagation not to be compared with 
 chriftianity. However, I could wifli to know^ 
 whether any teftimonies for Chrift's refurredion 
 are to be met with in heathen authors." 
 
 I told him, that Suetonius, Tacitus, Plinius, 
 and Jofcphus made mention of Chrift, though 
 there was a difpute about the pafTage of the! 
 latter feeing genuine. 
 
 " I cannot deny," faid the Count, " that 
 Chrift's refurrection feems to be probable ; but 
 it appears to me a little odd, that he, after his re- 
 furredion, did not ftiew himfelf to his enemies." 
 
 This objedion I endeavoured to remove, by 
 fliewing that fuch a tefcimony would have been 
 
 F2 of
 
 ( 88 > 
 
 of no life, and would never have convinced the 
 Jews, on account of their obftinacy. 
 
 The Count being exhorted to pray, he affured 
 me that he already frequently prayed. And when 
 he repeated his complaint that his repentance on 
 account of fome adions, and in relation to fome 
 perfons, was greater than on account of others, 
 I told him, that this was very natural ; that he 
 always would find himfelf more concerned on 
 account of the misfortunes he had brought upon 
 his friends, his parents, his brothers, and Count 
 Brandt. 
 
 After fome filence, he faid : " I do not know 
 whether error and pafllon might not carry me 
 away a fecond time, in cafe I fhould enter the 
 world again. But fuch as I find myfelf now, I 
 deteft my extravagancies, even thofe which 
 gave me pleafure •, and I believe that in cafe I 
 had an opportunity of indulging myfelf again, 
 I fhould not commit them." 
 
 When I exhorted him not to commit any 
 
 wrong adlion which he was in his prefent circum* 
 
 fiance capable of doing, and defired him to be 
 
 upon his guard againft telling any untruth before 
 
 his judges, or apologizing for himfelf when he had 
 
 no ground for it, or concealing what was true, 
 
 he anfwered : 
 
 « I know
 
 ( 69 ) 
 
 " I know, that by a fincere confefllon, I gain 
 in the opinion of honeft men. I am convinced 
 that all my future happinefs, which I now hope 
 to obtain, would be loft if I lliould attempt to 
 conceal the truth. I even believe, according to 
 the morals of Chrift, that a lie, though told with a 
 good intent of promoting chriftianity and virtue, 
 would be culpable. You therefore may depend 
 upon my telling without referve every thing I 
 Ihall think myfclf guilty of." 
 
 When I took my leave of him, he faid : " I 
 fee how much you are concerned about my fal- 
 vation , that you love me, and as a fincere 
 friend want to promote my real good. I look 
 upon you as my only true friend in the world. 
 When fliall I fee you again ? I am longing for 
 you when you arc not here ?" — I replied. 
 
 The day after to-morrow you will certainly 
 fee me again j but the nearer the time draws that 
 ihall decide your fate, the more frequently I (hall 
 vifit you, and ftay longer with you. 
 
 He fmiled and faid : " I hope you will not 
 fall fick." 
 
 I gave him to-day Bonnet^ s philofophical EX' 
 opiinaiion of the Ai'^timettts of Chriftianity, 
 
 F 3
 
 ( 70 
 
 The ninth Conference. March the eighteenth. 
 
 I 
 
 NOW recommended Scripture to the Count. 
 
 The New Teftament, faid I, gives the moft 
 perfe^ information, and the Old Teftament 
 agrees with the New, particularly in that chief 
 point of man's redemption. I pointed oiit and 
 explained feveral pafiages of the prophets which 
 correfpond with the evangeiifts, and drew the 
 inference, that even this muft prepoflefs us 
 greatly in favour of the truth of the Gofpel 
 hiftory. The Count replied : 
 
 *' If one had a mind to entertain fufpicion, 
 one might fay Chrift had formed himfelf after 
 the character of the MefTias, as it was drawn by 
 the prophets, to acl the part of this great per- 
 fpnage." 
 
 I anfwered : If he had had a mind for doing 
 this, he would have ac5led his part confentaneous 
 with the prejudices of the Jews, and appeared 
 in the characfber of a worldly hero. 
 
 ^' To be fure, (was his anfwer) he then would 
 have employed quite different means. It is im- 
 poflible for an impoftor to ad thoroughly the 
 part of an honeft man. Befides, there are pro- 
 phecies, which, in regard of tlieir being fulfilled.
 
 C 71 ) 
 
 did not dep^d entirely upon Chrill. For 
 inftance : the cafting lots over his garments, and 
 his being; crucified. One as well as the other de- 
 pended on accidental circumftanccs. If the 
 Romans had not been at that time mafters of 
 Jerufalem, he might not have been crucified, 
 but rather been floned to death." 
 
 "We examined hereupon thofe Scripture paf- 
 fages which treat on the redemption of men by 
 Chrifl. I endeavoured to prove that this re- 
 demption, as it is taught in Scripture, does not 
 contradift any of God's attributes, but is in all 
 refpeds adapted and fuirable to the condition of 
 men. — This being done, after it had taken up 
 much of our time, I entreated the Count mod 
 earneflily to get convinced of this chief doftrine 
 of chriftianity, that there is no falvation without 
 Chrifl, and to adopt it for his own everlafting 
 welfare. He faid, " he fhould raife no difficul- 
 ties, but fhould do as much as he could to gee 
 convinced of a dodltine which muft be of fo 
 great importance to him. He had no other 
 hopes but from this quarter only, and why 
 fhould he therefore not be defu'ous of partaking 
 thereof" 
 
 I found him at once greatly moved again. 
 He complained with tears in his eyes — " that 
 
 F 4 his
 
 ( 72 ) 
 
 his old idea of a total annihilation of our whol^ 
 exiftence after death, would return now and then 
 and rnake him uneafy." 
 
 I told him it was very difficult to eradicate old 
 ideas we were formerly fo much pkafed with : 
 But I hoped he would always get the better of 
 them, if he kept thofe arguments in view 
 which he had found convincing in thofe books 
 he had read upon this fubjed. 
 
 He then afKed me : " If I never had enterr 
 tained any doubts about eternity ?" No ! was 
 my anfwer •, I always found it fuitable to my 
 wilhes. I got early acquainted with its proofs. 
 
 Upon the Count's complaining that he Hill 
 was afraid his repentance might not be Iincere 
 enough i I advifed him to do juft fuch adtions as 
 were oppofite to his former vices, and to mind 
 'every opportunity v;hich was left for him of 
 doing good. I faid I would propofe fomething 
 to him. The propofal was, that fince he wa^ 
 very forry for having many of his former friends 
 prepoffefTed againft religion by communicating 
 to them his principles, he fhould renounce thefe 
 principles publickly. He fhould give an ac- 
 count to the world of the fentiments in which 
 he intended to die, and of the manner they 
 took place. 
 
 3 ." This
 
 ( 1Z ) 
 «f This is what I fliall do," replied he ; w I 
 will confider in what manner I could draw this 
 up to make it mod ufeful." — Laftly he wifhed, 
 «' that he might have a lively fenfation of the 
 comfort of religion:" He faid, '* he prayed 
 hcardly to God for it." I told him, God would 
 errant him his wifhes, and it would follow in courfe 
 the more he got convinced of the truth of the 
 chriftian religion, and of the fmcerity of the 
 alteration in his fentiments. 
 
 He anfwered : " I hope to get convinced. I 
 formerly thought that whoever embraced chrifti- 
 anity was to renounce all reafon j but I now fee 
 plainly, that nothing (lands more to reafon than 
 chriftianity •, and I promife you, that I will 
 do my utmofb to make my fentiments conform- 
 able to the will of God." 
 
 I then continued : Your mind will grow eafy, 
 and you will feel the comforts of the Gofpcl. 
 But, nevertlielefs, you may feel anxiety and fear 
 towards the latter end of your life, and upon the 
 way to the fcaffold. I tell you this before-hand, 
 left: you may think religion could not comfort 
 us when we are to die. Natural fear of death, 
 the terrifying circumft:ances your's will be at- 
 tended with, and your being confcious that you 
 l^y your crimes brought yourfelf to it, v/ill not 
 
 be
 
 ( 74 ) 
 be altogether removed. But by the afliftance of 
 religion, you will have a calm and hopeful 
 profpeft into eternity. 
 
 He had now finifned Bonnet's book which I 
 had left with him, and declared it had given him 
 great fatisfaclion. And fince Roufieau had been 
 his favorite author, and I feared his objedlions 
 againfl ChrifVs miracles might appear to him of 
 coi)fequence, I gave him Claperede on the miracles 
 of the Gofpel, to let him fee how weak Roufleau's 
 objedions arc againft facls. 
 
 The tenth Conferefice, March the tiventieth, 
 
 "71 TY intention by this conference was to con- 
 -^^^ vince the Count that reafon could make 
 no objeftions of any coniequence againft the 
 do6lrine of the redemption of the world by 
 Chrift. 
 
 " I myfelf," faid the Count, " have been 
 thinking already on this fubjedl. Perhaps God 
 will try oiir intentions towards his precepts, by 
 demanding our faith in favour of this dodtrine 
 of redemption. And if this Ihould be the cafe, 
 it is a fufficient reafon for us to believe it." 
 
 ' Hereupon I proved that the doftrine of re- 
 demption glorifies the divine perfections, and is 
 
 abfo-
 
 ( 75 ) 
 abfolutely neceiTary to human happlnefs. At 
 the conclnfion of my arguments I entreated the 
 Count to profefs himfelf a chriftian by believing 
 in Chrifl:. Ceafe, faid I, good Count, to be an 
 unhappy man. Believe in Jefus, and your fins 
 will be forgiven you. Your death will open 
 you the door into a blelTed eternity. 
 
 Here enfued a fcene which was moving to me 
 beyond defcription. Never felt I fu^h joy. 
 Never have I been fo fare of the happinefs of 
 having: brought back a finner from his errors ! I 
 fliall never forget this folemn and joyful hour, 
 and never ceafe to praife God for it. 
 
 " I (bould be guilty of the grcateft folly/* 
 faid the Count, " if I would not embrace 
 chriftianity with joy, when its arguments are fo 
 over-balancing, and when it breathes fuch gene- 
 ral benevolence. Its effedls upon my heart are too 
 flrong. Oftentimes I cannot help crying when 
 I read the hiftory of Chrifl. I think already 
 with hope on my death. I have acquainted myfelf 
 with its moft terrifying circumflances. I do not 
 know how I fhall be when the awful hour comes. 
 At prcfent 1 am not uncafy about it ; I find 
 nothing that makes me anxioufly wifn for this 
 life. I will confidently expedt forgivcnefs of my 
 fins through Chrift. And to you, my dear 
 2 friend,
 
 ( 76 ) 
 
 friend, I am infinitely obliged that you have 
 brought me fo far." 
 
 I embraced him, and exhorted him to thank 
 God for it. We prayed together.- — 
 
 I would now have left him, but he begged 
 of me to ftay half an hour longer, which I did. 
 
 He complained that his former idea, that 
 there perhaps was no eternity, now and then 
 returned to him ; (and in fa6l it did not leave 
 him entirely until a few days before his death.) 
 He faid, with a kind of indignation and grief ; 
 ** Sometimes I think again ; fuppofe my former 
 idea was true, that we have no exiftence after 
 death ? But I comfort myfelf by thinking, that 
 I abhor this idea ; and that I am fenfible it would 
 be a very unhappy profped: if all my willies 
 find expedations of futurity fhould be vain. I 
 tremble when this melancholy thought difliirbs 
 me, and I arm myfelf againft it by recolleding 
 the various convincing proofs which are alledged 
 in favour of chriftianity as well as of a future 
 Hate. I am now fully determined to follow the 
 fame rule in my new principles which I had laid 
 down in regard to my former ones. For my in^. 
 tention was, to think on the approach of death 
 in the following manner : I have examined my 
 idea that every thing ceafes with this life, and 
 
 I have
 
 A 77 ) 
 T have found it* to be true. Therefore, if I 
 fhould die, nothing fhall make me think other- 
 wife i and I will die with a confidenr.e, that, in 
 cafe I fhould be wrong, God is a benevolent 
 bcino- who will forgive my error. But I fee now 
 that my former notions of God's mercy are un- 
 worthy of the Supreme Being. I have now ex- 
 amined chriftianity with greater exaftnefs than I 
 ever did my old fyftem, and by this examination 
 I am convinced of its truth. I therefore will 
 remain firm. Neither my old fyftem, nor new 
 doubts, ill all henceforth ftagger me." 
 
 He then, after fome qiieftions about the ina 
 fpired writers, told me, that he now was fre- 
 quently reading the Bible fmce I had given him 
 one. He faid, " he fliould like to know what 
 reafons there were to believe the facred books 
 were really written by thofe authors to whom 
 they are afcribed." 
 
 For this very purpofe I had brought with 
 me D. Lefs's * book on the truth of the 
 chriftian religion. I defired him to read it, and 
 he would find fufficient hiftorical proofs to be- 
 lieve that the books of the New Teftament were 
 
 eally 
 
 • The Truth of the ChrijHan Religion, by D. Le/s, 
 Profcfibr and Doclcr o{ Divinity at Gottlngcn. Brcrnent 
 1768. 8vo.
 
 ( 78 ) 
 really the writings of thofe evangelilts and 
 apoftlcs to whom they were attributed. 
 
 He told me after this, that he frequently 
 prayed to God to enlighten and confirm him iri 
 truth. He added, " I am fure God will hear my 
 prayers and blefs my endeavours.'* 
 
 'The eleventh Conference. Mai-'ch the '2.\Jl» 
 
 T FOUND him reading D. Lefs's book on. 
 -*• the truth of the chriflian religion, and he faid ; 
 *' It was fomething remarkable that there were 
 fo very few evidences in the firft century of the 
 authenticity of the books of the New Tefta- 
 ment." To which I replied, that it was owing 
 partly to the books of the New Teflament having 
 been written either about the middle, or towards 
 the end of the firft century, and that for this very 
 reafon but very few copies could be taken j 
 partly that there were but few writers of the firlt 
 century that had an opportunity of mentioning 
 any thing concerning the authenticity of the 
 writings of the apoftles. 
 
 The Count fliid further : " That from the 
 fhort mention made in this book of the chief 
 deiftical writings, he found that the objeelions 
 againft revelation were but very trifling, and 
 
 that
 
 ( 79 ) 
 
 that he was alhamed of having fuffered hnnfclf 
 
 to be impofed upon by fuch infignificant ob- 
 jettions. He never iman^ined that chrifcianity was 
 founded upon fuch firong arguments, and that 
 they would convince liim." — He then fpoke 
 much in praife of thofe books he had read 
 during his imprifonment ; particularly cf Gel- 
 lert's Leflures on morality. He wifhed that 
 thofe who had been feduced by him from virtue 
 might read them. He faid, he had in this 
 refped Count" Brandt particularly in view, and 
 added •, " I hear that he ftill is very gay, but 
 I imagine k would make a great imprtifion upon 
 his mind if he was told how my fentiments are 
 altered. Though he has not been more virtuous 
 than I have, yet he always had a better opinion 
 of religion than I had. Would you be fo kind 
 as to go to him, and tell him how you find m,e, 
 and beg him to be now at laft a little more 
 fcrious ? Or would you rather write to him ?'* 
 
 I anfwcred, there are difficulties both ways, 
 which may be avoided if you will charge the 
 clergyman who attends Count Brandt with this 
 meffage. Are you ready and inclined to do this ^ 
 
 " Yes," faid he, " bring the Dean Hee to 
 me, I will beg this favour of him in your prc- 
 fcnce. I am not afhamcd to confefs wliat I am 
 
 fo
 
 ( ^o ) 
 To well convinced of. I widi I had an 6p^ 
 portunity to tell it to all my former acquaint* 
 
 ance.'* 
 
 Here he told the truth, for hitherto he had 
 faid nothing to the officers who guarded him 5 
 but now he began to entertain them frequently 
 with religious converfations. He faid : " that 
 he had been recommending religion and a vir- 
 tuous life to an officer, and his anfwer was : He 
 had nothing to fay againft religion j but to obey 
 its precepts in regard to fenfual pleafures and 
 lufts, feemed to him impra6ticable. He then, 
 by quoting his own example, fhewed him how 
 necelTary he himfelf had now found theie things 
 to be, and how unhappy they had made him* 
 He had intreated him to read Gellert often, 
 who would convince him hov/ ufeful it was 
 to conquer even our favorite fins." 
 
 He added : " What difference is there between 
 that virtue which chriftianity demands, and that 
 v/hicli the world calls an honeft life ? If mere 
 worldly people, that think in the fame manner 
 as I have done formerly, fhould judge of my 
 actions according to their fyftem of morality, I 
 beheve they would think them to be honeft 
 enough, as I did formerly myfelf.'* 
 
 You
 
 ( ^i ) 
 
 You muft eVen now, faid I, take great care 
 not to think too well of fome of your adlions j to 
 "which he replied : 
 
 " I know very well that refpeding all my 
 aftions, which I thought to arife from good 
 intentions, ambition and voluptuoufnefs had as 
 great a (hare in them as rriy love towards that 
 which is good. I courtt them nothing before 
 God and my confcience. When in my former 
 fituation, I fancied to aft well and defervins: 
 of praife, I thought like the Pharifee in the 
 Gofpel." 
 
 From this time, I obferved in the Count, a 
 certain calmnefs and ferenity of mind, w^hich 
 feemed to arife from the hopes that God for 
 Chrift's fake would pardon him. This fituation 
 of his mind had been particularly vifible to his 
 judges in his lafb examination. They had not 
 feen him fince the time I had vifited him, and 
 could therefore better obferve the alteration, 
 than I, who had cohverfed with him fo often 
 during this time. One of them told me, that he 
 had behaved on his examination extremely well, 
 and had appealed once with a vifible joy to that 
 blcfled eternity he hoped to enter into. He had 
 been among them as among his friends, and had 
 talked about his affairs as one who fp?aks about 
 
 G indifferent
 
 ( 82 ) 
 
 indifferent things. His condud had been very- 
 moving to them all. 
 
 But fince it appeared to me as if he expefled 
 flill a certain particular fenfation of his being 
 pardoned before God, I endeavoured to fet him 
 to rights in this f.oint. I told him, that with 
 regard to thefe fenfations, the matter was very 
 uncertain. I would not abfolutely deny their 
 cxiflence, but I found no Scripture proofs that 
 they were either neceflary or to be expedled as 
 certain confequences of repentance and faith. 
 The beft and moft certain conviftion of our 
 being pardoned before God was, to be confcious 
 that we repent of our fms fincerely, that we 
 acknowledge Chrift to be our Redeemer, that we 
 perceive our progrefs in godlinefs, and that we 
 moft earneftly endeavour to conform our fenti- 
 ments and our a6lions to the will of God. Who- 
 ever thinks other fenfations to be neceflary, is in 
 danger of being carried away by enthufiafm. 
 
 He then anfwered me, " That he never could 
 bear enthufiafm in religion, and that this was 
 one great reafon that had made him averfe from 
 chriftianity." He faid, " He remembered ftill, 
 that once in that public fchool*, where he had 
 received his inftrudion in religion, fome hun- 
 
 * The Orphan-houfe at Hall. 
 
 r 
 
 dredi
 
 ( H ) 
 
 dreds of young'people were at once given out to 
 be illuminated and converted, though he himfelf 
 Was fure, that fome of them, with whom he was 
 nearly acquainted, were very immoral and wicked. 
 Many flrange things had been tranfaded by thele 
 converted boys ; fo that he and others that were 
 not among the number, could not help being 
 greatly fcandalized on account of religion." — 
 
 I promifed to bring him Spalding's book on 
 the value of the inward feelings in Chriflianity, 
 that he might inform himfelf more on this point. 
 
 T/je twelfth Conference, March the z\tk, 
 
 TTN HEE, whom I had told of the Count's 
 ^^^ defire to fpeak to him,- came to-day with 
 me. The Count was not afhamed to confefs the 
 miftakes of his underftanding and his heart. He 
 told the Dean minutely, how he had firil quitted 
 virtue and afterwards abandoned religion, and iri 
 what manner he had recovered from his errors. 
 He exprelTed his fear, that his friend Count 
 Brandt, through his natural vivacity, might be 
 hindred from conlidering ferioufly on religion and 
 the condition he was now in. But Count Brandt 
 having always believed more of religion, than he 
 himfelf, and Ihewn this even in his conver- 
 fation, he hoped it would not only be agreeable 
 
 G 2 to
 
 C 84 ) 
 
 to him, to hear that he himfelf was now better 
 informed and convinced, but that it would even 
 make a happy imprelTion upon his mind. 
 Formerly he would not hearken to Count Brandt, 
 when he wanted to fpeak to him about religion, 
 but that he now thought it his duty to let him 
 know his prefent fentiments. He looked upon 
 himfelf fo much more obliged to it, fince he was 
 acceflary to his misfortunes. 
 
 The Count afterwards continued his conver- 
 fation thus. " I have been reading the book of 
 D. Lefs, particularly that part which treats on 
 the miracles, reported to have been wrought at 
 the tomb of the Abbe de Paris. I wonder why 
 this affair, that has made fo much noife at Paris, 
 is not by command properly enquired into. I re- 
 member myfelf, when I was phyfician at Altona, 
 that I was called upon to examine the ftate of a 
 perfon that was fubjeft to convulfions, by which 
 means I faw the unexpefted and wonderful effedls 
 which an extravagant fancy can produce. Such 
 things as the pretended miracles of the Abbe de 
 Paris, fhould not raife any doubts againft the 
 miracles of the Gofpel. But I have other 
 doubts, which appear to me of greater weight. 
 However, I am relblved to think on them no 
 more, for it is enough for me, after a calm 
 examination, to have found the arguments for 
 
 chriftianity
 
 C 85 ) 
 
 chriftianity unexceptionable. Would to God I 
 had time to make myfelf further acquainted with 
 it, and to put it into practice." 
 
 He complained that this morning, when he was 
 reading the Gofpel of St. Matthew, many blaf- 
 phemies againft Chrift and the Virgin Mary came 
 into his mind again, which lie had formerly read 
 in fome deiftical book. " Now," faid he, " I 
 defpife fuch things, though formerly perhaps 
 thqy might have raifed fcurrilous thoughts, and, 
 hindred my progrefs towards truth." 
 
 I brought him Spalding's book on the value 
 of inward feelings in chriilianity *. I told him, 
 that I hoped the reading of it would make 
 religion appear to him in a ftill more amiable 
 light, when he found, how much it was adapted 
 to the nature of the foul, and ilood not in need of 
 incomprehenfibilities, of effc6ts without a caufc, 
 of apparitions, concerning which it remains always 
 matter of doubt, whether they are becoming the 
 wifdom of God, He anfwered : 
 
 «* This is what I hope likewife. Revelation 
 mufl not contradi6l reafon, fince God has given 
 it to rational beings. The more found and folid 
 
 * Thoughts on the value of inward feelings in Chrifti- 
 anity. By John Joachim Spalding, Dean of Berlin. 
 Leipfic. 1764. Second edit. 
 
 G 3 rjeafoB
 
 ( 86 ) 
 
 reafon calls it under examination, the more mufi: 
 it profit by it. If thofe things which men have 
 foifled into religion, were left out in the pulpit 
 and dogmatical writings, almofl all the weapons 
 of the deifls would become blunted. I remem- 
 ber very well how much many, -perhaps well 
 intended fermons, which I heard at Halle have 
 contirmed my unbelief. It was too plain to me, 
 that thofe things which were told me there could 
 not be truths revealed by God, though it 
 was confidently afferted that they were." 
 
 ^he thirteenth Conference, March the i^th. 
 
 COULD flay but a fhort time with the 
 Count. The following is the molt remark- 
 able part of our converfation : 
 
 I 
 
 ^« The Count mentioned fome objedions 
 againft chriflianity, which he had read in Bou~ 
 langer anti^uite devoilee, that fear was the origin 
 of all religion among the ancients. All calamities 
 'Vvhich could befal men, as earthquakes, fires, 
 inundations, war, &c. they ufed to look upoi> 
 as punifhments of their gods, though they arofe 
 from natural caufes •, and to appeafe the wrati) 
 of their deities they became to think of religion. 
 He at that time believed Boulanger to have 
 proved his afTeriions very clearly from hiftory.'* 
 
 I told
 
 ( 87 ) 
 I told him tliat Boulanger was a writer of no 
 credit, authority, or knowledge, either in anti- 
 quity, hiftory or languages. An idiot and a 
 charletan. A man who told untruth, contrad idled 
 himfelf, &c. like another author who wrote ths 
 Evangile dujour, where he in one place proves, 
 that there was no Mofes, becaufe an antient 
 writer Sanchoniaton did not make mention of 
 him, though he lived in the neighbourhood where 
 the hiftory was tranfaded in which Mofes was 
 concerned. And in another place, in order to 
 make Mofes a writer of later date, it is afferted 
 that Sanchoniaton lived long before him. To 
 which the Count replied : *' That Voltaire was 
 dangerous and captivating merely from wit and 
 humour." 
 
 When I was leaving the Count, he exprefled 
 his defire to inform in perfon Count Brandt of 
 his prefent fcntiments about religion, and to tell 
 him of his reformation. He faid, " He Ihould 
 do this in the court of juftice, if they lliould 
 happen to be both confronted ; but he doubted 
 that this would not be the cafe, fmce their confef- 
 fions agreed together. Therefore, he fliould beg 
 leave to vifit him, and to tell him the fame before 
 witnefles. If I were to tell it him myfdf, it would 
 make a greater impreffion upon him ; and his 
 condition grieves me lb much, that I would 
 
 G 4 willingly
 
 ( 88 ) 
 willingly contribute all that is in my power 
 towards his reformation," 
 
 ^he fourteenth Conference, March the i6th, 
 
 f'T WISH," faid he, when I came in, " to have 
 ■*• done with thofe affairs I have now upon 
 my hands -, for they hinder the regular continua- 
 tion of our conferences, and keep me from reading. 
 However, I hope to finifh them foon. I know, 
 I want ail my time for weightier concerns of my 
 foul. Neverthelefs I have finifhed D. Lefs, and I 
 owe much to this book. It has brought my certainty 
 to a liigher degree, on account of the credibility 
 of the miracles, and I can prove now the truth 
 of the chriftian relig;ion from miracles. The * 
 book is written with great folidity. The Germans 
 begin to excell in this kind of writing." 
 
 I told him, we had another excellent original 
 pf this fort, D. NofTelt's Defence of the Chriftian 
 Religion \ which he, if time would permit it, 
 might read with great advantage. 
 
 We then talked of fome prophefies, which 
 concerned not Chrift in particular, but whole 
 l^ations, how far they were fulfilled. 
 
 The calmnefs and ferenity of the Count's mind 
 ^ncreafed now fo much, that it appeared to me 
 rather a little fufpicious. I therefore thoyght it 
 
 necefTary
 
 ( ^ ) 
 
 neceffary to remind him, not to be carried away 
 by a too quickly produced compofure of mind, 
 and not to forget, fmce he had hopes of being 
 pardoned before God, what he had been before 
 his converfion : elfe his former careleflhefs might 
 gain power over him again, and obftruft his 
 endeavours of conforming himfelf to the will of 
 God, which might caufe him a great deal of 
 uneafinefs towards the latter days of his life. 
 
 " I aflure you," was his anfwer, *' that I 
 have not for one moment judged myfelf indul- 
 gently, and that hitherto I have not ceafed to 
 repent of my former life ferioufly. I am rather 
 convinced, that even in eternity, happy as it 
 might turn out for me, I fhall remember my 
 fins with horror and deteflation." 
 
 On another occafion, he a(ked, what might be 
 the reafon that phyficians were foeafily prejudiced 
 againll religion ? 
 
 I know, faid I, that the religion of phyficians 
 is commonly looked upon as fufpicious ; but I 
 think without reafon. You yourfclf muft know 
 many great phyficians that are, without contra- 
 didlion, profefled chriftians. Boerhaave, Stahl, 
 Junker, Hofmann, Werlhof, were all chriftians. 
 You are acquainted with Mead's writings in 
 favour of religion. Haller has but lately pub- 
 4 liflied
 
 ( 9^ ) 
 lifhed a book in behalf of chriftianity, which 
 I fhoiiid give you to read if it was to be had here' 
 already. Our Berger, what a profefled, pious 
 confeflbr of religion is he ! 
 
 " Zimmerman * likewife, added he, is a chrif- 
 tian. And you muft, upon the whole, not think 
 that I brought this thought upon the carpet 
 as a thing of any real confequence. It is of as' 
 little fignification as the opinion I have heard 
 maintained, that Michaelis and Semler were 
 deifts." 
 
 If they really were fuch, replied I, they hardly 
 would give themfelves fo much trouble in pro- 
 moting chriftianity as they really do. This no 
 doubt is an accufation of intolerant chriftians, 
 which is fufficiently refuted by the fervice which 
 thefe men are of to religion. 
 
 Hhe fifteenth Conference, March the i^th, 
 
 'Tp' H E Count having fhewed a defire to know 
 
 •*• fomcthing more about prophecies, and 
 
 their being fulfilled, I brought him, for this 
 
 * D. Zimmerman is phyfician in ordinary to his Britannic 
 Majefty at Hanover. Some of his writings are lately tran- 
 llated into Enolifh, particularly his £^ o// AW/i>WP«Vf, 
 and his Treatije on the Dy/entery. 
 
 purpofe.
 
 ( 91 ) 
 
 purpofe, Newt6n*s Differtatlons on Prophecies, 
 Among many things he faid : 
 
 *' I find now of how great importance that mo^ 
 ral rule is, to avoid the firft fin. If we do not do 
 this, but allow ourfelves to delight in thinking of 
 irregular defires, without oppofing the firft emo- 
 tion of them, it is frequently afterwards no more 
 in our power to a6t well and virtuous. I know this 
 by my own experience. It feemed to me by far too 
 fevere, when Chrift f^iys, Whofoever looketh 
 on a woman to luft after her, has committed 
 adultery with her already in his heart. The 
 looking on a woman, thought I, even with a de- 
 fire to luft after her, can be no crime if it goes 
 no further. But the ruminating upon means 
 how to fatisfy our defires, follow in courfe. 
 Whenever I faw means to get my ends, I fancied 
 it very hard if I fliould not make ufe of them. 
 I did ,ufe them, I fatisfied my luft, and com- 
 mitted a whole feries of fins, which I might have 
 efcaped, if I had avoided the firft fin, the taking 
 delight in the wicked defire, and ftudioufly enter- 
 taining it. I then endeavoured to apologize for 
 my crimes. I cannot help it, faid I, that my 
 natural difpofition and temper is fo much for 
 yoluptuouinefs ; it therefore cannot be imputed 
 to me as a crime if I live according to this my 
 ^ifpofition. I vyas confirmed in this by that 
 
 over-
 
 ( 92 ) 
 overbearing feverity of thofe who taught me mo- 
 rals in my youth. They never told me that 
 Chrift did not forbid innocent things, and" that 
 his morals did not deny us harmlefs joys. Every 
 thing I had an inclination for, was told me to be 
 fm, without diftindion. To wear ruffles, to 
 powder tlie hair, was declared to be as equally 
 impious as other extravagancies which were 
 openly fiiiful. I now concluded, that fince it was 
 jmpoffible that the firft mentioned things could 
 be fins, and I found they could not be well 
 avoided in the world, it perhaps might be the 
 fame cafe with the others -, they might alfo be 
 innocent things, and not to be avoided. I know 
 I was in the wrong ; but I was young, my pafli- 
 ons raged, and my leaders lliould have had more 
 underftanding." 
 
 He added : " In the fame manner much harm 
 is done by thofe teachers of chriflianity who re- 
 quire always a blind obedience, and do not lay 
 proofs before their hearers of that authority upon 
 which diey fliall build their belief in adopting 
 thele truths.— He faid it was neceffary that a 
 teacher fliould prove the Bible to be a divine re- 
 velation : and that whoever would take only 
 proptr time, and was not againft the trouble of 
 meditaiing, could never examine chriflianity 
 without being convinced of its truth. Every 
 
 thing
 
 ( 93 ) 
 
 thing is naturally and well connected, and reccm^ 
 mends itfelf to a mind given to reflexion. I never 
 found in deiflical writings a fyftem fo well con- 
 necced ; and, upon the whole, I am inclined to 
 believe that there is no fuch thing as a regular 
 fyftem of infidelity.'* , 
 
 He continued : " No objecfbion can be made 
 to chriftianity, becaufe it promifes rewards to its 
 true profelTors. Love of God, without any re- 
 lation to ourfelves, is but a mere idea. I am 
 fenfible that I could not continue for a long while 
 to love a friend, who fhewed himfelf always cold 
 towards me. And the Supreme Being cannot 
 be difplealed with a love, that minds at the fame 
 time our own intereft : for God can reap no 
 advantage from our inclination towards him, but 
 only we ourfelves. And why lliould we not look 
 out for rewards and accept of them, when God 
 himfelf has offered and promifcd them V^ 
 
 <c 
 
 My great delight in fe-nfual pleafures per- 
 fuaded me always, that as there was nothing of 
 this kind among the joys of heaven, they would 
 have no charms for me."
 
 ( 94- ) 
 
 '^heftxteenth Conference. March the itthi 
 
 « T HAVE now linilhed," faid the County 
 •^ " the A6is of the Apoftles, and by this 
 means am informed of the wonderful foundation 
 of the church of Chrift. It is very vifible that 
 a higher hand promoted this work. For other- 
 wife, how could all this have been done in fo fhort 
 a time, by fuch perfons as the apoftles were, and 
 in fpite of fuch an oppofition from all fides ? Onei 
 thing rather raifed my furprize. I found that Paul 
 and Peter once did not quite agree. But when 
 on the other fide I perceived how much they 
 agreed in the chief point of Chrift's refurreftion^ 
 of repentance and faith, this matter no longer 
 puzzled me. They were men, and therefore 
 might be miftaken in their private opinions." 
 
 *' Nov/ and then," faid he, " I cannot help 
 thinking on my fituation before my fall. This 
 morning I afked myfelf, whether it would not 
 have been better for me, if I could have kept 
 myfelf in my high ftation, and enjoyed my ufual 
 pleafures ? But when I had been confidering for 
 a few minutes, I found that I now am by far 
 more happy than I was in my greateft outward 
 
 profperity.
 
 ( 95 ) 
 profperlty. I have frequently told my friend 
 Count Brandt that I was by no means happy, 
 when he believed me in many refpecls better off 
 than himfclf. You cannot think what an infinite 
 number of things always took up my time. 
 Whatever happened abroad made me uneafy. 
 I was obliged to think of means for my own 
 fafety, and to force myfelf to conceal my uneafi- 
 nefs both from myielf and others. The day I fpent 
 in difagreeable occupations and tedious diffipa- 
 tions, and part of the night in reading Hate papers, 
 and in writing. Was it pofTible for me to be happy 
 in fuch a fituation ? Now I am more ferene and 
 more eafy. 1 occupy myfelf with religion, 
 which interefts me miuch, and which is my only 
 comfort. I have an hopeful profpefb in eter- 
 nity, and my death does not difquiet me much, 
 and not very often. How 1 may be affefted at a 
 more trying crifis, I do not know, but I am con- 
 vinced of my being now happy and compofed, 
 and that I am not defirous of returning into my 
 former fituation." 
 
 Thefeiicntecnth Conferetice, March the 2,0th, 
 
 '* ^T^^HE more, faid the Count, I learn chrifti- 
 
 ■*• anity from Scripture, the more I grow 
 
 convinced, how unjufl: thofe objeflions are which 
 
 it
 
 C 9^ ) 
 
 It is charged with. I find, for inftanc^, that all 
 which Voltaire fays of the intolerance of the chri- 
 ftians, and of bloodfhedding caufed by chrifti- 
 anity, is a very unjuft charge laid upon religion. 
 It is eafily to be feen, that thofe cruelties, faid 
 to be caufed by religion, if properly cDnfidered, 
 were the producfbion of human pafBons, lelfifh- 
 nefs and ambition, and that religion ferved in 
 fuch cafes only for a cloak. To be convinced 
 of this, one may read only the hiftory of the cruel 
 tranfadiions of the Spaniards in America.'* 
 
 Having finilhed reading Newton on Prophecies^ 
 he made fome remarks upon this argument in fa- 
 vour of the truth of the chriftian religion, and then 
 concluded : " My affairs of this world are now 
 finifhed, a few conferences with my defenfor, and 
 a few letters, which I intend to write, excepted.'* 
 
 I then told him, that we now could regularly 
 carry on our conferences, and faid. Let us now 
 confcientioufly employ the reft of our time in 
 promoting the great bufinefs of your falvation. 
 He replied : 
 
 " This certainly I fhall do with all pofTible 
 earneftnefs. Thank God ! I am fully convinced 
 of the truth of the chriftian religion, and I feel 
 its power in quieting my confcience and reform- 
 ing
 
 { 97 ) 
 
 ing my fentiments. I hope God will forgive me 
 thofe doubts which perhaps might ftart in my 
 mind, and thofe flight emotions of my former 
 pafTions by which I was ruled, and which even 
 now fometimes will difturb me. I find no plea- 
 fiire in them, and endeavour to fupprefs them 
 immediately. I am ready to convince you by 
 any fadt you may demand of me to fhow how 
 ready I am to facrifice my former affe6lions. 
 Never fhould I have done fo before I was en- 
 lightened by religion. I do not know whether 
 this is fuj'^cient reafon for you to be fatisfied with 
 me. Try me in what manner you fhall think 
 proper : and if you are fatisfied with me, do 
 not mind if others Ihould judge otherwife, ac- 
 cording to their opinon, and fay you had attemp- 
 ted to bring me over by reafoning. I acknow- 
 ledge '• with gratitude before God, that you 
 took this method. In no other manner you 
 would have prevailed upon me. I fhould have 
 oppofed with obftinacy. Perhaps fome impref- 
 fion might have been made upon me, but a 
 ' folid and lading conviction never would have 
 been brought about. Befides, God cannot be 
 difpleafed, fmcc religion is fo reafonable, that 
 men are gained over by reafon. Chrift himfelf 
 acted fo, and Paul accommodated himfelf at 
 Athens, and before Felix and Agrippa, to the 
 
 H way
 
 ( 9^ ) 
 
 way of thinking of thofe he had to deal with. I 
 hope the manner, in which I came to alter my 
 fentiments in regard to religion and virtue, will 
 raife the attention of thofe that think as I 
 formerly did. The deifts will never truft the con- 
 verfion of their brethren, which is brought about 
 in the latter days of their life. They fay, they 
 are taken by furprize through the declamation of 
 the clergyman ; they have loft their reafon ; they 
 are ftupid or frantic by the violence of their illnefs; 
 the fear of death made them ignorant of what 
 they did. — But now fince I came to learn chrifti- 
 anity, in the manner I did, nobody fliall fay 
 fo. I have examined the chriftian religion 
 during a good ftate of health, and with all the 
 reafon I am mafter of. I tried every argument, 
 I felt no fear, I have taken my own time, and I 
 have not been in hafte. The chief bufinefs 
 which I, for the fake of my own mind's eafe, 
 have ftill to tranfadl is, to fearch whether I Hnd 
 thofe figns within me, which are required, if 
 upon a good foundation, I believe myfclf to be 
 pardoned before God." 
 
 I gave him a letter of his pious mother, 
 which he took with an air of tenderncfs and 
 tranquillity. « He faid, he fhould read iu, 
 when alone."— 
 
 He
 
 , ( 99 ) 
 
 He jdded : " I never felt my love to my 
 
 parents fo great, as now. 1 never was fo fully 
 convinced of their good intentions towards me. 
 
 And mv o;ood mother ! { here a flood of tears 
 
 broke forth) She always has loved me with a 
 kind of preference.*' 
 
 The following is the letter. 
 
 Rendjhurg, March the 17th, 1772. 
 
 " Inflead of entertaining you with our mutual 
 grief and pain, I rather find myfelf under a 
 necefllty to acquaint you, v/ith thofe prevalent 
 feelings of my heart, on account of that condi- 
 tion you are in at prefent. Many days and 
 years the fubjeul of my prayers to God has been j 
 that he might fave your immortal foul from 
 feverlafting ruin. I have therefore now facrificcd 
 my defires, which m.ade me, as a mother, wifri 
 for the happinefs of my children, not only of 
 their fouls, but likewife of their body. If the 
 mercy of God cannot otherwife reach the welfare 
 of your foul, but by means that are hard and 
 painful to the outv/ard man, I have fubmitted 
 with an humble and compofed mind, to the 
 mod holy and moft perfe6l will of the Lord who 
 had mercy upon us from everlafting. But never 
 
 H 2 eould
 
 ( 100 ) 
 
 could I exped that doleful fituation you are in 
 now. My maternal heart is thereby cruihed to 
 pieces, and as it were immured alive. God is 
 my refuge. My fole comfort under fo hard 
 fufferings, will be the falvation of your foul. I 
 Ihall praife the Almighty with tears of joy, when 
 I hear he, as the friend of finful men, has ftill 
 thoughts of peace over you, and that he with 
 thorns has fliut up the way which could lead 
 you to everlafting ruin. I do not doubt but 
 the Spirit of God has convinced your mind al- 
 ready, that your Redeemer would not have you 
 loft for ever, fince you are his property. Give 
 but farther attention to that work of grace which 
 the Holy Spirit is doing within your foul, for the 
 fake of your convidion. He will reveal to you 
 more, than the tongues of men can make you 
 acquainted with. Think you have to do with 
 nobody, but God and yourfelf, and remove 
 therefore all your thoughts from things of this 
 world. If the Spirit of God fhall have only firft 
 glorified Chrift within you •, if you have been 
 brought fo far as to apply to yourfelf his fully 
 fufficient redemption ; you then will count all 
 things but lofs for the excellency of the know- 
 ledge of Chrift Jefus your Lord : you then will 
 count it but dung, that you may win Chrift. 
 Your eternal and immortal mind will enjoy al- 
 ready
 
 C loi ) 
 ready here fnove eafe, comfort, and joy, than 
 ever the world, with all its fplendor and pleafure, 
 can afford lis. It has pleated God to convince 
 my foul of this from my youth. There is no 
 happier ftate in the world than to be a true chri- 
 ftian, both in good and evil days. How much 
 would it have pleafed me, if all my children ha-d 
 likewife let this bleffed convidion be produced 
 within them by the Spirit of God from their 
 youth. But I have found, that this is only a 
 work of God, and not of men. Now, my dear 
 fon, what may have been not properly con- 
 duced or negleded by men, let us be truly forry 
 for, and beg God's forgivcnefs. But do not 
 defpair of God's mercy, which he has fo clearly 
 revealed in Chrift our Redeemer. Let us not 
 leflen God's intentions, but give a faithful aflent 
 to thofe true alTertions of Scripture : " God fo 
 loved the world, that he gave his only begotten 
 Son, that wholbever believeth in him, fhould not 
 perifh, but have everlafting life." But all thefe 
 do6lrines are fuch, that mere human reafon can 
 neither clear them up fufficiently nor convince 
 us thereof. You muft beg for the afliftance of 
 the Holy Ghod : for it is he that reveals unto 
 us by his word, Chrift and the great work of 
 his redemption, in a falutary manner. If you 
 
 H 3 will
 
 ( 102 ) 
 
 will only fet about an examination of the chief 
 dc(5|:Knes of cur holy religion, with candid an4 
 fmcere intentions, and earned prayer to God for 
 the enlightening of your underilanding, yop will 
 iind breaking forth a light in your foul, which 
 is more than mere natural, and which will ferve 
 you for better infight, and greater confirmation 
 of thefe doflrines. I write this afcer the fmall 
 (hare of knowledge, which the grace of God ha? 
 granted me, My faith has, notwithftanding all 
 the literal knowledge of the revealed truth, been 
 obliged to work through the moll fpecious objec- 
 tions. But praifed be the Lord and his Spirit, whq 
 has ftrengthened my faith by his word, and by my 
 own inward experienfe of its truth, that even the 
 gates of hell Ihall not prevail againd it, as long 
 as I keep clofe to the Omnipotent God, and rid 
 not myfclf of him. And this is my anchor in 
 thefe my higheft fufferings, elfe the waves of 
 my fiii^i^reif^s would foon i'ct adrift the yeflel of 
 my faith. I wilh and beg to God, that he may 
 grant you this fupport of your faith. Jefus 
 Chrift is, and remains for ever, the true ccrner- 
 ftone, upon v/hich the firudure of our falvation is 
 [ to be begun and to be finifhed. From your 
 infancy you fhewed a character of mind that was 
 pncere and without difguife. Let this natural 
 
 goo4
 
 ( »03 ) 
 good difpofition of yours be fanftified by the 
 Holy Spirit, that you may turn to your God 
 with ail fincerity. For God profpers the honeft. 
 Blefled is the man in whofe fpirit there is no 
 guile. Learn how deeply you are corrupted, 
 and come then as a curfed firmer to him who 
 was made a curie for us. Your father and I 
 will both cry to God and implore his mercy for 
 you. I remain your heartily afflicted mother," 
 &c. 
 
 D. Hee came to day again to fee the Count, 
 and to tell him, that Count Brandt greatly 
 rejoiced to hear of his converfion. That he 
 found his only comfort in religion, that he never 
 loft all fenfe of ir, and that he from his heart 
 forgave him all that he had done to draw him 
 into his misfortunes. Count Struenfee gave his 
 anfwer very affedingly, and D. Hee took his 
 leave. 
 
 T&e eighteenth Conference, March the 3 1/?. 
 
 MY readers will remember that the Count 
 had already adopted the dodtrine of 
 Chrift's redemption, and was therefore a chri- 
 
 H 4 ftiaiL
 
 ( 104 ) 
 flian. He was now ready to acknowledge the 
 other myfleries of rehgion, which are connecled 
 with this doftrine, to be divine. I thought it . 
 neverthelefs neceflary to fhew him how reafon- 
 able and uieful they were, that by this his belief 
 might be the better grounded, and that no 
 doubts on account of thofe myfleries might 
 make him uneafy. I made therefore firft the 
 following general obfervations on the fubje(5t. 
 
 If it has pleafed God, faid I, to reveal himfelf 
 to men through Chrift, his intention was, either 
 to reflore natural religion among men, which 
 was nearly loft, and to lay before men, with the 
 higheft authority, thofe truths, which were 
 difperfcd in thoufands of human writings ; or 
 to reveal them docftrines, which were unknown 
 to mere reafon, though very necefTary to be 
 known for the happinefs of men. Perhaps God 
 had both thefe intentions. 
 
 The firft of them was certainly very beneficent 
 towards mankind, and particularly worthy of 
 God. I'he knowledge of natural religion was 
 only to be met v/ith among the Jews, and per- 
 haps a few heathen philofophers. The end of 
 revelation therefore was to reftore this falutary 
 knowledge, and to adapt it to the capacity of 
 
 all
 
 ( 105 ) 
 all men. But thrs was not the whole of the inten- 
 tion i for if Jefiiswas to teach only natural religion, 
 the preparations, which God made to procure 
 credit for his mefienger among men, feem to be 
 too great. The do6trines which Chrift preached 
 in this refped, were of fuch a nature, that 
 mere human reafon, as foon as it got acquainted 
 with them, muft find them clear and true. 
 Therefore if this had been all, it was unneceffary 
 to confirm the doftrine by means of fo many 
 miracles, particularly Chrift's refurredion, and 
 the infpiration of his Apoftles. 
 
 It appears from this, that it was the intention 
 of God, that Chrift fliould reveal unto us doc- 
 trines which were unknown to reafon, at the 
 fame lime that he was to teach us natural re- 
 ligion : and fince he has done both, it is a proof 
 that both was the intention of his coming;. 
 Miracles became now neceflary to ferve him for 
 credentials of being a meflenger of God, and 
 to convince men that thofe new revealed doc- 
 trines which Chrift preached, and were above 
 human reafon, came from God. You fee from 
 this, tiiat a religion, whofe author performed 
 miracles muft, according to its intention, con- 
 tain myfkries, 
 
 Befides,
 
 ( io6 ) 
 Befides, the incompreheniible doclrines of the 
 chriilian religion are of fuch a nature, that they 
 jntbrm us more fully of God and his will, and 
 how a finful man can be fivcd. In both re- 
 fpeuts, it teaches us more than reafon does. For 
 inllance, reafon tells us the unity of God, and 
 revelation adds, that Three Ferfons are in one 
 Deity. Reafon looks out in vain for a fufficient 
 means of reconciliation with God; revelation 
 teaches wherein this means confifts. Is it there- 
 fore to be wondered at, that this revelation, 
 when it fpeaks of the infinite and incomprehen- 
 iible God and his decrees which were unknown 
 to reafon, fhouid open unto us fuch profpeds 
 which our eyes cannot fully difcern, or which 
 is the fame, that it fhouid teach myfleries, and 
 require our faith to believe them ? Whoever 
 therefore declines adopting the chriilian reli- 
 gion, fhews himfelf unacquainted with its inten- 
 tion and its objefts. He does not do that juRice 
 to religion, which he does to other fciences. For 
 though they contain more myfceries than reli- 
 gion ever did, he ncverthelefs does not objedt 
 to them. You yourfelf, faid 1, have met with 
 thoufands of incomprehenfibilities in phyfic 
 and chemiftry, but I fuppofe you never thought 
 them for this reafon altogether dreams and de- 
 ception. He owned it was true. 
 
 I con-
 
 ( ig; 3 
 I continued : If God was to reveal unto us 
 myfteries unknown to rcafon, and which con- 
 cerned himfeif and his will, he muft do this by 
 figns wliich we could underftand, and thefe muil 
 be words. But in the language of men there 
 were no words which could exadly convey that 
 idea God was to cornmi-nicate to us ; for we 
 cannot have words in any language' to exprefs an 
 idea we know nothing of. God was therefore to 
 make ufe of fuch words as conveyed tliat idea, 
 which he wanted to reveal unto us, as nearly as 
 poffible ; but neverthelefs thefe words mull al- 
 ways remain imperfed. He cannot apply them 
 in their full fignification, and with all the ideas 
 annexed to them, to thofe mylleries, which God 
 has made known to us. They are to be taken 
 only in their primitive and univerfal fignification, 
 and every thing imperfeft is to be feparated from 
 them. 
 
 I explained this to the Count by fome examples, 
 which he thought cleared up the matter very 
 much. I faid : There are fome ideas annexed to 
 that relation which fubfifts between father and 
 fon. The father mud have been before tiie fon ; 
 he muft have attained a certain age before he be- 
 got the fon •, he muft have been connected with 
 ^ perfon of the other fex. Now if any body was 
 
 to
 
 ( io8 ) 
 to apply thefe ideas to the fcripture expreflion, 
 Chrift is tlie fon of Cod, he would not only 
 miftake the matter, but even find many contra- 
 di(5lions. Suppofe an inhabitant of Iceland was 
 to explain to an Indian the freezing up of the fea, 
 he would find no word in the language of an In- 
 dian to exprels this phenomenon. Neverthelefs 
 he is to Ipeak to the Indian in his own language •, 
 he therefore is obliged to make uie of improper 
 words and images. He could, for inftance, 
 fay. In my country the fea, by the influence of 
 the air, changes, at certain feafons, into (lone. 
 Now the Indian is right if he thinks, that the 
 fea in Iceland is fometimes as hard and folid as 
 flone -, but he is in great danger to reprefent 
 the matter to himfelf quite fal fly, if he was to 
 apply the reft of the properties of a flone and its 
 ufe to the ideas of ice : If he fhould think that 
 houfes were built of ice, and ferved like fome 
 ftones for fuel to cook viduals with. 
 
 I now defired the Count to keep thefe general 
 obfervaiions concerning the myfteries of religion 
 always before his eyes, fince I was about pro- 
 pofing them to him fmgly, to explain their icrip- 
 tural fenfe, to fhew that they did not contradict 
 reafon, and that they were beneficial to man- 
 kind. 
 
 The
 
 ( 1^9 ) 
 
 The firft mydery connefled with the dodrlne 
 of redemption is this : Chrifl: is the fon of God. 
 The chief paflages of Scripture in which this 
 do6lrine is told, are, Matth. iii. 17. Mark ix. 7. 
 John iii. 16. This lad pafTage, where Chrift em- 
 phatically is called the only begotten fon, fhews 
 that he is the fon of God in a far more eminent 
 fenfe than men, and particularly the pious, who 
 are called children of God. 
 
 Now if God calls Chrift his fon, what fhall wt 
 think by this ? Chrift has his elTence of God, 
 like as a fon of his father, yet not in the 
 manner that this expreflion conveys to us, which 
 carries imperfeftions with it, but in an eminent 
 manner which we cannot explain. Chrift has the 
 fame effence which the father has, and is there- 
 fore perfeflly equal with him, Hebr. i. 3. Chrift 
 the firft born and only begotten fon of God is en- 
 titled to every perfection of the father, he is 
 united with him in perfect love, as an only fon 
 is with his father. You fee from this that the 
 father has reprefented to us that relation which 
 fubfifts between him and Chrift under the image 
 of a father and a fon, becaufe in the whole hu- 
 man nature no picture is to be found which ex- 
 prefles the moft intimate union more exactly and 
 more pcrfeftly than this. — Do you find now in 
 this reprefcntation any thing contradifling ? 
 
 " No,
 
 ( iio ) 
 
 *' No, fald the Count, here is no contradi6lion 5 
 the whole myftery lies in the inexplicable man- 
 ner, by v/hich Chrift has his efience from God 
 the father." 
 
 I added : Reafon, therefore^ cannot pretend 
 to objedt any thing to this propofition ; Chrift is 
 the fon of God •, it rather is under an obligation 
 to believe it without ccntradiclion, out of reve- 
 rence for theteftimony and authority of him who 
 has revealed it unto us. 
 
 I now made the remark, that all the myfleries 
 [ of the chriilian religion are beneficial to mankind, 
 and that it was to our own real advantage to be- 
 lieve them.- In this refpeft it is very beneficial to 
 us that Chrilt is the fon of God. Hence the fon 
 of God is our friend, our benefactor, our Saviour, 
 our intercefibr. Is there any thing good which 
 he has promifed us, that he fhould not have it in 
 his power to give it ? Every thing good, both in 
 heaven and upo;i earth, is his as well as his fa- 
 ther's. God will certainly hear his only begotten 
 fon when he intercedes for us. Are we to doubt 
 that he that fpared not his own fon, but delivered 
 him up for us all, fliall not with him alfo freely 
 give us all things .? 
 
 2 Deaf
 
 ( III ) 
 
 Dear friend, this Ton of God is your Re- 
 deemer. You acknowledge him to be fuch. 
 Judge now what grace and mercy you may ex- 
 pe6l of him, if you firmly and confidently truft 
 in his redemption ; if you fpare no pains to think 
 and afl, during the remainder of your life, like 
 him, God, I truft, will not puniili you in eter- 
 nity, but be reconciled unto you through his own 
 fon. He will not deny you life everlafting when 
 Chrift powerfully intercedes for you. Praifed be 
 God, who has enabled you to entertain fuch a 
 glorious hope, as no power, no fplcndour, no 
 lufl: of this v,?orld, and not your own reafon itfelf 
 could procure you. May he preferve you in this 
 hope until your death, for Chrift's fake ! 
 
 The Count was very much moved, and pro- 
 mifed to read what I had written on the fubject 
 of to-day, and which I left him for his further 
 perufal. He had likewife thofe fheets before him 
 which I had given him upon former fubjeds to 
 read them over again, to fee how all thefe 
 dodtrines ftood conneded. He faid : 
 
 *' He remembered that we had agreed once, 
 that mere reafon could not have found out the 
 do6lrine of redemption •, but he found that 
 many heathen nations had attempted to r;^concile 
 the Deity, by means of facrifices." 
 
 I anfwered :
 
 ( 112 ) 
 
 I anfwered : Confcience teaches man to recon- 
 cile God for fins committed ; but that facrifices 
 were thought to ferve for this purpofe, was per- 
 haps founded in the Jewilh difpcnfation. Even 
 mere reafon might have invented facrifices, be- 
 caufe they were a proof that we rather would 
 part with onr property than entertain the 
 thought of being under God's difpleafure. But 
 that God would jzive his own fon for a facrifice, 
 was the manner of reconciliation which we agreed 
 that reafon itlelf could never have found out. 
 After this the Count faid : 
 
 '^ One of my former objeftions comes into 
 my mind again, which is : Why God could 
 chufe fo defpicable a people as the Jews were, 
 for his peculiar one ?'* 
 
 When I had anfwered, that it might be, be- 
 caufe they were defcendants of Abraham the 
 friend of God, of whom they had received 
 the true natural religion, and that they formerly 
 were not fo defpicable as they now are thought 
 to be, he added: 
 
 " It is true, v/e cannot prove from their being 
 fo defpicable at prefent, that they have been 
 always fo. Befides, the defpicablenefs of a na- 
 tion.
 
 ( "3 ) 
 
 tion. Is entirely'a relative notion. An Englifh- 
 iTian defpifes a Frenchman, and a Frenchman 
 thinks his nation the moil refpeflable one under 
 the fun." 
 
 T^he nineteenth Conference, April the ifl, 
 
 'T^HE Count being told that fince he be- 
 ■*' lisved the doclrine of redemption, he 
 could not but believe the other myfteries, be- 
 caufe they were founded upon the fame authori- 
 ty i he anfwered : 
 
 " I (hall make no difficulties about that ; if 
 the one be true, the other mufh be fo likewife. 
 You have liitherto fatisfied my reafon, and I do 
 not doubt but you will be able to do it 
 further." 
 
 I continued : If Chrifl is the only begotten 
 Son of God, and has of God his divine Eflcnce, 
 he muft be the true God. The New Teftament 
 and Chrift himfelf teaches this. It appears 
 likewife from John v. i8. that the Jews under- 
 ftood him very well, for they fought the more 
 to kill him, not only becaufe he had broken 
 the Sabbath, but faid, that God was his father, 
 making himfelf equal with God. Chrifl con< 
 
 I firmed
 
 ( 114 ) 
 
 firmed what he had faid, by what follows, par- 
 ticularly ver. 2 1, 22, 23. Let us mind the fol- 
 lowing three reafons : " The Son quickeneth 
 whom he will; all judgm.ent is committed unto 
 the Son •, all men Hiould honour the Son, even 
 as they honour the Father." 
 
 St. Paul treats likewife, Heb. i. of the 
 divinity of Chrid. He calls him the " Son of 
 God, by whom the worlds are made; The 
 brightncfs of God's glory, and the exprefs image 
 of his perfon." He applies an exprefTion of 
 Pfid. xlv. 7. where God is addiefled, to Chrift, 
 and calls him abfolutely God. 
 
 When I had read and explained to the Count, 
 the two paflages of John v. and Heb. i. he 
 faid : " It is undeniable, that it was the intention 
 of Jefus an4 of Paul to tell the Jews that the 
 Son is God." 
 
 Having more fully propofed and proved this 
 doclrinc of Chrift's Divinity, the Count, at the 
 conclufion of the whole, faid : 
 
 cc 
 
 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
 
 ► ( ii5 ) 
 
 the more of divine wifdom we dilcovef in thctfi^. 
 We muft only avoid afking every where : 
 Why ? — We muft reft latisfied with the aiitlio- 
 rity of their author. Even in human fciences 
 this modefty is requifice : elfe we never fliouid 
 come to any certainty. Moft common things 
 may employ our refearches for all our life time, 
 before we difcover the firft caufe. Every 
 why ? would draw innumerable queftions of 
 the fame nature after it, though our reafon is 
 not calculated to go in infinitum." 
 
 The Count had now finiftied the hiftory of 
 Chrift's fuficrings, 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 Phlegort, Tertullian and 
 Lucian, made mention of this famous ecjipfe. 
 Upon this the Count fa id : 
 
 " He had fpoken ycfterday 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 neverthelcfs remarkable, 
 
 I 2 that
 
 ( ii6 ) 
 
 that thefe events ftiould 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." 
 
 1 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 afllire his 
 fon of the continuation of his love and inter- 
 cefTion 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, v/hich was, to find them again before 
 the throne of God, amongft thofe that have 
 received mercy.'* 3
 
 ( 117 ) 
 
 l.''he twentieth Conference. April the 3//. 
 
 'nr^HE chief fubjed of this Conference was 
 -■' the dodrine of the Trinity, as it is taught 
 in the chriftian church. This dodrine being 
 Hated 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 Chrift's re- 
 ligion, he wifhed only to be the fame, as to 
 the pradical 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 fhall lofe nothing. The lofs 
 would have been irreparable, if I had re- 
 mained in my former fituation. For in all pro- 
 bability I fhould 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 
 ftiould never quit religion again. I have been 
 
 I 3 often-
 
 ( 1^8 ) 
 
 oftentimes obflinate in my opinions, and here I 
 Ihould be To for good reafons." 
 
 He being told in what manner he mieht fhew 
 and convince himfelf of being a pradical chri- 
 fti^n J he faid : 
 
 " I am ready to do any thing demanded in this 
 
 refpe6t. It gives me pieafure to find myfelf 
 
 willing for this. I lock upon it as a good fign. 
 
 Formerly I Ihould not have been fo. I would 
 
 not have facrificcd my vicious inclinations. I 
 
 fliall confider in v/hat manner I may give you 
 
 and myfslf convincing proofs of the fmcerity of 
 
 my prcfent fentiments. You frequently have 
 
 dropt a hint, as if you thought I had ftill too 
 
 great an opinion of my adminiftration 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 
 
 refult of my enquiries. Believe me then, that 
 
 I had no intention of doing mifchief. Volup- 
 
 tuoufnefs and vanity were the fprings of all that T 
 
 did. The great opinion I had of my abilities, 
 
 and which was fupported by others, made me 
 
 refolve, at my firfl coming into Denmark, to ad a 
 
 great part. I cannot fay I ever imagined it 
 
 V/ould be fuch as I have fmce aded. But
 
 ( 119 ) 
 
 vou know, opportunities and circumflances 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 
 mud 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 mifled 
 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 pafllon 
 for my guide." 
 
 He had now finiOied 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 redlified 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 1 be-
 
 ( 120 ) 
 
 I believed it contradided reafon and the nature 
 of man, whofe religion it was defigned to be. I 
 thought it an artfully contrived and ambiguous 
 do6lrine, full of incomprehenfibilities. When- 
 ever I formerly thought on religion in fome 
 ferious moments, I h^d always an idea in my 
 mind how it ought to be, which was, it fhould 
 be fimple and accommodated to the abilities of 
 men in every condition. I now find chriftianity 
 to be exadlly fo ; it anfwers endrely that idea 
 which I had formed of true religion. Had I 
 but formerly known it was fuch, I (hould not 
 have delayed turning chriftian till this time of 
 my imprifonment. But I had the misfortune tq 
 be prejudiced againft religion, firfl through my 
 own pafTions, but afterwards likewife through 
 fo many human inventions, foifled into it, of 
 which I could fee plainly that they had no foun- 
 dation, though they were fliled effential 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 fliewing his revenge, though I 
 knew he was love itfelf j and am now convinced, 
 that though he mufl punifh, yet he takes no 
 kind of delight in it, and is rather for 
 pardoning. From my infancy, I have 
 known but few chriftian s that had not fcanda- 
 
 lizet^
 
 ( 121 ) 
 
 lized me by their enthufiafm, and wickednefsj 
 which they wanted to hide under the cloak of 
 piety. I knew indeed that not all chriilians 
 were fuch, or talked fuch an afFeded language ; 
 but I was too volatile to enquire of better 
 chriftians after the true fpirit of religion. 
 Frequently I heard fermons in my youth, but 
 they made no imprefllon 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 exprelTions. 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 aftions not 
 in the leall better, but rather allowing them- 
 felves in every tranfgrefllon, 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- 
 ferved my uncafmefs. I found my real forrow 
 for my fins not adequate to thofe exprefTions, 
 which I had heard frequently in my youth, and 
 V/'hich had terrified me fo much. I endeavour- 
 ed
 
 ( 122 ) 
 
 etl to heighten my grief to fiich a degree : but 
 I favv on the other fide, that this forcing myfelf, 
 by means of imagination, was not that grief I 
 fought for, or what might have pleafed God. 
 Spalding's book has fatisfied me on this account. 
 I nm now fure that the chief point is a con- 
 fidence in God through Chrill, 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. 
 
 The tivenfy-fi'Ji Conference. April the ^th, 
 
 Y Repeated to the Count all we had done 
 -*• together hitherto, and furveyed with him 
 afreili 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 himlelf to appear 
 
 to
 
 ( 123 ) 
 
 to be fo. Perhaps he might have been able to 
 die with an outfide appearance of firmncfs, but 
 he believed he fhould have found himfelf quite 
 different, from what he hoped to lind 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 Ihould let his affairs have their own 
 "way, or, whether he ihould make the belt de- 
 fence he could ? 
 
 I told him, chriflianity 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 fuflering death. And befides, I fee 
 nothing pleafing before me, even if I fliould 
 fave my life. Imprifonment for life would be 
 iinfupportable to me. However, I cannot deny 
 
 that
 
 ( 124 ) 
 
 that I fliiver when I think on the hour of dea5i 
 under fiich 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 befl 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 j they treated 
 me like honeft people.'* 
 
 Being advifed not to flatter himfelf 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 inftind of preferving 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 profped (at leaft) of not being 
 worle off in eternity than I am now. — And do you 
 think I fhould do v/rong, if I, at my approaching 
 painful and ignominious death, call to my aflift-r 
 ance all the natural and even acquired fortitude 
 which I am pofTefled of?'* 
 
 J 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 Epiftles 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 witli his de- 
 cifion of the difputed queftion : Whether it was 
 rioht 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. 
 
 'J he twenty-fecond Conference. April the 6th» 
 
 '"p^O fhew the Count how far his reformation 
 -■' 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 
 follov/ing queftions for felf-examination before 
 him, and took his anfwers down in writing, that 
 I might confider them by myfeif when alone, 
 and tell him afterwards my opinion how far I 
 found them agreeing v/ith the fenfe of the Gofpel. 
 
 The
 
 The following are the principal queftions and 
 his anfvvers. 
 
 Are yovi heartily forry that you have offended 
 God by thofe voluptuous thoughts and adions of 
 which you find yourfclf 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 tranfgrefTions with de- 
 teflation, which gave you, according to your 
 former fentiments, the greatefl pleafure i? 
 
 " I think not only with indifference on all 
 thofe fenfual pleafures, bur 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 fhould not be able to avoid 
 them for any other reafon. Therefore, fince I 
 begin to tafi:e the happinefs of virtue, and am 
 fure that I cannot acquire it but by a true fear of 
 
 God
 
 ( 127 ) 
 God and the defire of ading according to hlg 
 will, I am determined never to lofe fight of this. 
 I Oiall endeavour to redify all my principles and 
 adions by the efficacious afliftance of thefe means, 
 which I am become acquainted with through the 
 knowledge of God and his revelation.'* 
 
 Are you truly forry becaufcyou 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 likewiie ? 
 
 " I am extremely forry that I have rendered 
 unhappy fome perfons by my principles, inconfi- 
 deratenefs, and inclination for fenfual pleafures, 
 not only by hindering their temporal welfare, but 
 likewife by corrupting their moral charafler. At 
 the fame time I repent very much that I have fet 
 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 detefl thofe tranfgrenions 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? 
 
 cc 
 
 Tn 
 ne
 
 ( 128 ) 
 
 « The firil: moral principles, according ta 
 which I a6ted, were againft God's precepts, and 
 were founded upon a Tyftem of honour which I 
 myfelf had formed, and where the principal view 
 was always to gratify my own dcfires and felf-in- 
 tereftednefs. According to my prefcnt convidion, 
 I cannot but think the whole chain of my aftions 
 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 
 ftation ? 
 
 *' I own i cannot excufe before God my having 
 thought too (lightly of other people's happinefs. 
 I abufed the maxim that a fmgle 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 fliall promote the temporal welfare 
 of fingle perfons as much as lies in his power, at 
 lead fhall he not deflroy ir. All my political 
 reafons, which tlien determined me to ad fo, 
 will not excufe me or quiet my confcience. 
 And as for the misfortunes of my friends, I feel 
 
 them
 
 ( t^9 ) 
 them fo much the more, fince my natural tendef- 
 nefs 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 v;ith the happinefs 
 of the nation ? 
 
 " I find myfelf guilty of this in my confcience. 
 If even I could derive fome excules 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 flronger 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 aft ac- 
 cording to its precepts ? 
 
 *' I now glory as much in chrifbianity and ia 
 acknowledging my former errors, as I then 
 did in treating it with contempt. My rcfolution, 
 which is founded upon conviction, gives me the 
 fured hope that I, in nil circumftances, Ihall keep 
 to it, and obferve its precepts until my end." 
 
 Are you confcious that you bear no hatred 
 againfl thofe v/hom you think your enemies, nor 
 
 K againft
 
 ( 130 ) 
 flgalnfl: 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 fhould have 
 afted from perfonal enmity, I forgive it very 
 readily.'* 
 
 Are you confcious that you fpoke the truth 
 before your judges, and in your converfation 
 with me ? Do you likewife propofe to fpeak truth 
 in what you Ihall fay to your counfel, in your 
 defence ? 
 
 " I do not remember to have fpoken before 
 my judges one untruth wilfully, unlefs, 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 fhould not 
 agree with truth." 
 
 Do you find a true defire to be pardoned by 
 God, through the merits of Chrift, and do you 
 trufh in God that he will not refufe it .? 
 
 " I have
 
 ( 131 ) 
 
 " I have no other hopes but what are founded 
 m God's pardon, and I am convinced, that there 
 are no other means for me to obtain it but the me- 
 rits of Chrill. I ftrive to qualify myfelf for this 
 through fincere faith in my Redeemer, and by 
 making my thoughts and fentiments conformable 
 to his v/ill. I pray to God to flrengthen me in 
 this refpefl, fmce 1 find within myfelf nothing 
 but incapacity and weaknefs." 
 
 Do you look upon this pardon of God as the 
 greateft 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 fmcerely, and will you ftrive to increafe 
 this love ? 
 
 " The more I grow convinced, the more im- 
 prelTion the mercy of God and of my Redeemer 
 makes upon me, and increafes my love and gra- 
 titude towards him." 
 
 K 2 Are
 
 ( 13^ ) 
 
 Are you determined to fhew this love towards 
 God, by a ready obedience to his will, as long as 
 you fl:iall have time for it ? 
 
 " Since I hope to be more and more convinced 
 of the love of God towards me, and fmce I ac- 
 knowledge that what he has decreed relating to 
 me, is in all refpeCls, particularly in regard to my 
 foul, the mcft advantageous, I am fure that I 
 Ihall fubmit to all his will, without murmuring 
 and without rclu6tance." 
 
 Suppofe your death fliould 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- 
 flances may be which fhall attend it ? 
 
 " As much as lies in my power, fupported by 
 that confidence which I place in God, I lliall die 
 with a chriftianlike rcfolution. 
 
 Are you refolved to derive all your comfort 
 only from religion, and not to call in for affift- 
 ance a fccret ambition, or an affeded fortitude ? 
 
 *' I have refigned every thing which may be 
 called arnbltion, and have been obliged to do it ; 
 I am therefore fure that in the laft moments of 
 my life I Ihall not be difturbed by this pafilon. 
 
 I rather
 
 C 133 ) 
 
 I rather fhall derive all my comforts from reli- 
 gion. Even my former ambition would not 
 have led me to affedation. 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 dcfeYiding my opi- 
 nions, and in this refpecft I might, perhaps, too 
 often have been guilty of affed:ation." 
 
 The Count alfured me, on the clofe of this 
 examination, that he in all refpe6ts had told me 
 exa6lly the fentiments of his heart. — When I was 
 going to leave him, he begged I v/ould flay a 
 little longer, fince he had fomeihing to commu- 
 nicate to me. 
 
 " I liave been confidering, fiid he, about 
 what I afl<:ed your advice the oth.er day. I fee 
 plainly my life cannot be faved ; I am likevvife 
 eafy about it, and I hope the wifh to live longer 
 will difturb me no more, though I do not know 
 how I fliall be afiedted when I am very near death. 
 If the awful moment was but once paft, I then 
 fhall have lolt 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 fhould not be able to remember, 
 faid I, I fliall put you in mind of it, though I do 
 not know how much I myfelf fliall be affeded. 
 
 K 3 "I wifli
 
 cc 
 
 ( 134 ) 
 
 I wifh only you may not be too much afr 
 fei5led, faid he, for this would add to my fuf- 
 ferings." 
 
 o 
 
 I Ihall 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 chriflian. 
 
 " I have been, faid he, very uneafy about 
 another thing. You know my chief crime. 
 You know that by confeffing 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 confefied, fmce grati- 
 tude and friendfliip feemed to demand it. I have 
 been very uneafy about it. But I took to prayers, 
 as now my conftant praflice is, when I am 
 under anxiety, and confidered this whole mat- 
 ter on all fides, direfting 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 flill worfe to cover one crime with another, 
 which would fill me Vv'ith anxiety of confcience, 
 and mjake me incapable of receiving God's par- 
 don. And certainly the requeft would be unjufl, 
 that for the fake of faving others I fhould facri- 
 fice my everlafting falvation. I found, laftly, 
 
 that
 
 ( ^^5 ) 
 that if I had cfenied every thing hitherto, I now 
 Ihoukl have difcovered it to you, and defired 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 
 cverlafling falvation, Ihould think me to be both 
 a faithlefs man and a traitor. My confefiion muft 
 be approved of by all true and rational chriftians. 
 However, the misfortune that has befallen my 
 friends on account of my confefTion, grieves me 
 more than I am able to exprefs : I can pay them 
 no other damages, but by praying to God to 
 $?ive them the comfort of religion and virtue. 
 This is what I continually am praying for j and 
 if thefe prayers are granted, I am fure their lofs 
 is fufficiently repaid." 
 
 T^he twenty-third Conference. April the qth, 
 
 TH 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 rejedlcd by God. 
 I cannot but perfuade myfelf, that althpugli now 
 
 K 4 in
 
 C 136 ) 
 
 in my fetters, and near a difgraceful death, I am 
 by far more happy than I was in my former 
 grandeur." 
 
 When I had convinced him from Scripture 
 palTages, 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 againfl: 
 death, he fuid : 
 
 " Yes, I hope to experience that my death is 
 but one difficult ftep, and every thing I lofe by 
 it fliall 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 Chrift's fake, and repeated all his good pur- 
 pofes, together with their motives. I believe 
 likev/ife, faid he, that I can pray now with 
 more chearfulnefs. Hitherto I found myfeif 
 always unworthy, but I have ventured to pray, 
 trufting to God's mercy." 
 
 Being advifed to thank God for all the grace he 
 ,d fhewn him dur 
 fion, he anfwered : 
 
 jg aUVllCU LU LllctlJiS. VJUU lUl ttll LllV. ^>. 
 
 had fhewn him during the time of his conver- 
 
 o 
 
 *^ I remember
 
 ( ^37 ) 
 
 w 
 
 *' I remember with gratitude thofe powerful 
 impreffions made upon me by perufing many of 
 the paflages in thofe books I have been reading ; 
 in particular when I was reading the Life of 
 Chrifl. 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 relblution how I Ihall aft 
 in regard to my defence. I fee neither my life 
 can be faved, nor my actions be juftified, never- 
 thelefs, I liope to be able to fliew, that fome are 
 not quite fo bad as they appear to be ; for you 
 know, to confider our adions 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 fliould be equally as bad when confidered 
 in a political light, as it may be in a moral one. 
 I fliall reft fatisfied to (hew (for more I cannot do) 
 that my political miftakes were the confequences 
 of error, precipitation and pafTion, but not of a 
 defign to do miifchief. I think I ov/e this to 
 truth, and even religion itfclf, as far as my con- 
 verfion may cither promote or hinder its intereft. 
 If, by keeping filence, I had allowed that I had 
 bad intentions (though I do not recollect any 
 
 ' myfelf;,
 
 ( I3S ) 
 myfelf)j it perhaps then could eafily have hap- 
 pened, that my converfion would have been looked 
 upon as weaknefs and confufion of mind, notwith- 
 Itanding 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 
 profefled rogue, or only a man who had tranf- 
 grefied from error in judgment." 
 
 "The tiDenty-foiirth Conference. April the (^tJo. 
 
 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 
 infatiablenefs of my pafTions 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 circumltances whigh his might 
 3 ^9
 
 ( 139 ) 
 be attended with excepted) prefented nothing 
 dreadful to him, fince he knew where it was to 
 conduct him." He declared: 
 
 " It fhould not make him uneafy, if there was 
 even any truth in the opinion of thofe v/ho af- 
 ferted, that the foul, when feparated from the 
 body, fhould be in a ftate of obfcure ideas and 
 fenfations, or in a kind of fleep. For if my 
 foul was hot confcious of itfelf, or was only iq 
 a place of fecurity and eafe, I fhould lofe no- 
 thing by it. Should this deep lafl even a thou- 
 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- 
 feflion of its happinefs.'* 
 
 Tov/ards the clofe of this converfation, he 
 faid : " Though Scripture tells us but little 
 about the ftate the foul fhall be in during its 
 feparation from the body, yet even this little is 
 matter of great comfort. If God had found it 
 ufeful and necefiliry 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 
 jn the hand of God. — From this you may judge 
 
 how
 
 ( 140 ) 
 
 how much it muft vex me, if now and then 
 this thought returns : ' perhaps there is no 
 eternity !' I examined myl'elf to-day very flri6t- 
 ly, if perhaps I found a fee ret pleafure therein, 
 or if I entertained an oblcure notion of its 
 being true : but I profefs I found neither of 
 them. There is not a fnadow of probabiHty 
 left of my former fyftem, and the flrong proofs 
 of the contrary are always before my eyes. Be- 
 fides, I am fo much interefted in my being at pre- 
 fent better informed, that I would not part with 
 my conviction upon any account, or act wilfully 
 contrary to it. If by committing any crime, 
 even fuch as the world did not acknowledge to 
 be fuch, I could gain the greatefl temporal 
 advantage, I am confident I fliould not commit 
 it. If I was promifed for certain, my life 
 fhould be fpared, and that I fliould be reftored to 
 my former fituation, under condition that I con- 
 tradided the confeflion I have made of my 
 crimes, and that I confirmed with an oath my 
 new alTertion, I am fure I fliould rather die than 
 contradict truth, and take fuch an oath. I am 
 convinced I never fliould think thus, where I 
 was not perfuaded of eternity, and rather 
 wiflied or thought it to be a vain fancy. But 
 I fee now how difficult it is to extirpate fuch 
 falfe ideas, as we were formerly fond of" 
 
 The
 
 ( 141 7 
 
 The Count h^d read Spalding's fdrmons, 
 and afllired me he was much edified by them* 
 Some of thofe books which had contributed 
 much to enlighten and reform him, he fent to 
 Count Brandt, for whom he fliewed the ten- 
 dered: care. I gave him this day Doddridge's 
 treatife on the rife and progrefs of religion in the 
 foul. 
 
 He defired me to write to his parents, and to 
 comfort them by the account I could now give 
 them of him. 
 
 The twenty -fifth Cofiference. April the i ith, 
 
 A Converfation which the Count had with 
 ^ ^ a pcrfon who difliked the reading of the 
 Bible, on account of its fliie, gave occafion to 
 fome remarks on the ftile of the Bible. Among 
 the reft he obferved, that the ralleries of the 
 freethinkers about Chrift and his doftrine, were 
 plain proofs, that they had no intention of 
 a6ling honeflly. " It is in general impertinent, faid 
 he, to turn a virtuous man into ridicule. The 
 old and unufual exprefllons of the Bible cannot 
 be the true reafon, for which they Ihould think 
 them dcfcrving ridicule. They do not laugh 
 at other ancient writings, which are written in 
 fiich a ftile. If they, for inllance, were to 
 read the books of Confucius, I am fure they 
 2 would
 
 ( 142 ) 
 
 would not hefitate about his flile, but praife 
 his morals. In the' fame manner, they extoll 
 the fables of iEfop, but the parables and nar- 
 rations of Chrift will not pleafe them : notwith- 
 ftanding they are derived from a greater know- 
 ledge of nature, and contain more excellent 
 morality. Befides, they are propofed with a 
 more noble and artlefs fimplicity, than any 
 writings of this kind, among ancient or modern 
 authors. There muft be therefore fomcthing 
 elfe which prejudices them againft Chrift ; and 
 I do not know what elfe it could be, but 
 their heart, which makes them averfe to his 
 precepts." 
 
 Some days fmce, the Count had obtained 
 leave to have pen and ink ; and he faid, " he 
 would make ufe of it, to draw up the account of 
 his converfion, which he had promifed to leave 
 behind him." 
 
 It will be, faid I, a very acceptable le- 
 gacy to me. Write with refleftion, and I hope 
 it will not be ufelefs. It fliall remain an 
 authentic monument of your religion and 
 piety. I therefore leave it entirely to you, 
 to arrange your thoughts and to write them 
 down. I will have no other fhare in it, than to tell 
 
 you
 
 ( 143 ) 
 you in general terms, how it is to be drawn up 
 fo as to anfwer its intention. This intention 
 is partly to efface thofe impreflions your ex- 
 ample has made upon the minds of others, 
 partly to raife the attention of thofe that are of 
 the fame way of thinking as you formerly were. 
 It muft therefore appear by this writing, that 
 your fentiments about religion and virtue are 
 really altered. At the fame time, you are to 
 relate how this alteration was produced. I think 
 this to be neceffary, left any body fhould doubt 
 its truth. As to your fiile and expreflions, it 
 muft be fucxh, as will not be difpleafing to the 
 people of the world, and that others may not 
 entertain any doubt of your having become a 
 chriftian. 
 
 " I fnall endeavour," faid he, " to keep 
 thefe rules before my eyes. But if you find 
 any miftake, that I perhaps was not fufficiently 
 acquainted with fome dodrines, or that fome 
 paffages may be liable to cenfure, you are always 
 at liberty to correfl them." 
 
 No, replied I, not a fingle word fliall I 
 attempt to alter. It .muft be entirely your 
 own, for fear fome people Ihould think it 
 fpurious. 
 
 The
 
 ( 144 ) 
 The Count remembered the late Reverend 
 Mr. Albert! of Hamburgh, with whom he was 
 perlbnally acquainted, and wiflied to read hw 
 fermons, which I lent him. 
 
 T^he twenty-fix th Coiifercnce. April the 1 3//^. 
 
 " A Lberti's fermons," faid the Count, " have 
 -^ ^ much edified me. They have like- 
 wife contributed to make me have a greater re^ 
 gard for religion, and at the fame time made me 
 more compofed and happy.*' 
 
 The to-day's converfation turned upon the 
 doflrine of the refurreftion of the body. The 
 Count having been made acquainted with the 
 arguments in favour of it, faid : 
 
 " He believed the chief objedions againfb 
 the refurreftion of the body, were ftarted after 
 it had been pofitively afferted by Chrift. From 
 that time, thofe who had a bad confcience, be- 
 came fearful. They endeavoured to fecure 
 themfclves by fuch objedions, againft anxious 
 expectations." He added, after fome other 
 reflexions, " That death was not indifferent to 
 
 him.
 
 C H5 ) 
 him, but yet not terrible. Neverthelefs, he 
 could not deny, but that he had great reafon to 
 repcnc of thofe actions by which he had haftened 
 it ; yet, fince this could not be altered, and he 
 was fure that his fins would be forgiven, he 
 had nothing that could attach him to this life, 
 except the natural inftindl of felf-prefervation ; 
 and he was ready to leave this world as foon 
 as God pleafed to call him. He did not care 
 what might become of his body after his de- 
 ceafe, for it was fafe every where under God's 
 care. In the mean time, he would make the 
 beft ufe of his time he could, and endeavour to 
 become every day better and more acceptable 
 to God. For this purpofe, faid he, I read, 
 I pray, I refled on my former and my prefent 
 fituation, and compare them both ; I fpeak to 
 the officers about religion and virtue, but with- 
 out intruding and without afTecl-ation." 
 
 ne twenty-feventh Confereiice. April the \^th, 
 
 ■pUture judgment, and everlafting rewards 
 and punifliments, were the fubjeft of this 
 Conference. With regard to eternity and fu- 
 ture punilhments, the Count cxpreffed himfelf 
 in this manner: 
 
 L « If
 
 ( 146 ) 
 " If even the punilhments of a future 
 world, were only to lad during the life of a 
 man, it would be very terrifying, and fufficient 
 to keep us from fin. It would be dreadful 
 enough if the punifhments confided in nothing 
 elfe but the natural confequences of fin, without 
 any further difpenfations of God. I thought 
 men might be punifhed in eternity by thofe 
 paffions to which they were addifted in this 
 world. They leave this world with all their 
 internal appetites, which attend them in all 
 their flrength. There is nothing in the other 
 v/orld to fatisfy thcfe defires. They confume 
 themfelves in infatiable longings, and vain 
 wiflies. God need only fay to them : You (hall 
 remain as you are." 
 
 Being told that fince his fdutary reformation, 
 he joyfully might expeft his fentence before 
 God's tribunal, he replied, " That he really 
 waited with joy for it, and trufled in God's 
 mercy.'* He faid, " His objedions, which he 
 forrr>erly thought unanfwerable, were now 
 quite gone, or at lead of fo little confcquence, 
 that he doubted about the truth of religion no 
 more than about my being with him. He W:3s 
 now fo confcientious, that he examined every 
 
 thin^^
 
 ( H7 ) 
 
 thing he did ancj^ thought, whether it agreed with 
 the will of God. And he found himfelf by 
 this fo well, fo compofed, fo happy, that he 
 was fure, he fhould conftantly think and a6t 
 ifi the fame manner." 
 
 As the time of his death drew Hear, I thought 
 proper to infpire him with ideas of futurity, 
 for which purpofe I gave him Lavater's Pro- 
 lj)e(fls into eternity. 
 
 T^he twenty-eighth Conference. April the I'jth. 
 
 'nr^O day our converfation turned partly upon 
 -*• eternity. On occafion of the explana- 
 tion of feveral pafiages of Scripture, that have 
 a relation to this fubjed, the Count admired 
 the propriety of St. Paul's expreflions, and the 
 images he made ufe of. 
 
 " I find now," faid he, " that I from time 
 to time get more acquainted with the ftiie of the 
 Apoftles. They write extremely well, now 
 and then inimitably beautiful, and at the fame 
 time with firaplicity and clearnefs." He quoted 
 feveral pafTages, particularly from the eighth 
 chapter to the Romans. He added, " I fliould 
 
 L 2 like
 
 ( 148 ) 
 
 Irlce to fee other publicans and tent-makers, 
 write in the fame manner as the Evangelills and 
 Apoftles did.'* 
 
 Being reminded that his uncommon and un- 
 e>:pe6led calmnefs and compofure of mind, was 
 a confequence of his being certain of God*s par- 
 don, he faid: 
 
 " It is certainly a confequence of my being 
 pardoned for Chrift's fake, and of my being 
 confcious that my fentiments are altered j and this 
 accounts for thofe ill founded ideas of the feel- 
 ings in chriflianity. The compofed mind which 
 chriftianity procures, is fuch a feeling. I have 
 it now myfelf. They v/ere only miftaken in 
 explaining the reafons thereof. Why fhould 
 God produce thefe fenfations by miracles, when 
 they are the natural off-fpring of a well founded 
 convidlion, and a true converfion ?'* 
 
 Towards the end of the converfation, he de- 
 clared, " That he thought himfelf very happy 
 in being fo near eternity, though the manner in 
 which he entered into it muft be melancholy for 
 him. In the mean time, he would do every thing 
 in his power, to be in a fituation in which he 
 might hope to overcome the terrors of death, 
 
 and
 
 ■( 149 ) 
 and to be certain of an happy immortality. He 
 believed, his duty in this'point conlifted chiefly 
 in having his former life continually before his 
 eyes, that he might keep up a lively fenfe of 
 repentance, and in ftriving to confirm himfelf in 
 his prefent fentiments, to mind them, and to ac- 
 cuflom himfelf more and more to them. This, 
 faid he, is now my whole occupation ; it is fo 
 interefliing to me, and pleafes me fo well, that 
 nothing is more agreeable to my tafte. A little 
 while figo I ufed, as I told you, to read 
 fometimes IJ hijioire generak des voyages. I 
 then thought that I could employ my time 
 better. But not being willing to appear in my 
 own eyes in a hypocritical light, I would not 
 forcibly fupprefs my inclination for this book. 
 This inclination .has now left me, I do not like 
 to read, or to meditate on any thing elfe, but what 
 concerns my chief bufmcfs, which is a preparation 
 for eternity. Thank God, I am advanced now fo 
 far, that my doubts do not make me any more 
 uneafy. What you told me in the beginnings 
 I find to be true, for no objection prefents 
 itfelf but v/hat I am able to anfwer to my fatis- 
 faclion." 
 
 V I « The
 
 ( 150 ) 
 
 " The chriftian religion," faid he on another 
 occafion, *' is fo engaging, that it certainly mull 
 pleafe every one who is properly acquainted 
 with it. We ihould fee the belt efFecls 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 mull be fuch an one 
 as contradifts entirely the nature of error and 
 delufion, becaufe it is the bell and truell 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 chrillianity, 
 which might be of greater fervice than preach- 
 ing. — In this manner Voltaire has written, as 
 you know, innumerable little pieces againll re- 
 ligion, which contain always the fame over again 
 under different titles, and in a different drefs. 
 Rational friends of chriftianity Ihould learn of 
 him this method, by which he does much mif- 
 phief, and apply it to better purpofes, Voltaire 
 
 boaftg
 
 ( 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 piinciples from Chrift 
 himfelf, who taught truth, fometimes in para- 
 bles, Ibmetimes in queftions and anfwers, 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." 
 
 Ladly, the Count complained of having been 
 for fome 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 iree exertion of the foul during the time we are 
 awake, he faid : " This anfwer fatisfies me, for 
 I never think of thofe things, to which the 
 
 L 4 dreams
 
 ( 152 ) 
 
 dreams are related. In general, I oblervc, 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 diflance 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.'* 
 
 T^he twenty-ninth Conference. April th^ iqth, 
 
 AMONG other things, which were the 
 ' fubjedl of this converfation, it was men- 
 tioned, that the nearer and more perfefl contem- 
 plation of the works of God in futurity, would 
 be a fource of pure and everlafting joy to the 
 bleffed. The Count then mentioned, " That 
 the contemplation of the works of nature had 
 oftentimes afforded him great fatisfadtion, 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 Ihould be even 
 to-morrow. The freethinkers will fay, I flioiild 
 have found within myfelf ftrength enough 
 againft my misfortunes, without applying to 
 religion. They will fay, I fhewed myfelf now 
 3 coward, and was for this reafon unworthy of 
 my former profperity. I wi{h to God I had not 
 been unworthy of it for other reafons. How- 
 ever, I ihould like to aik thefe gentlemen, in 
 what manner I Ihould have found comfort with-, 
 in myfelf ? I durft not think on my crimes, oa 
 my prefent fituation, on futurity, if I wanted 
 tranquillity of mind. Nothing was left for me 
 but to endeavour to ftupify myfelf and to dif- 
 fipate my thoughts. But how long would this 
 have lafled in my prefent folitude, and being 
 removed from all opportunities of dilTipation ? 
 And fuppofe it had been pofTible, it would have 
 l^een 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 firlt weeks of my 
 confinement, before I refledled on my condition. 
 I laid for three or more hours together on my 
 bed. My fancy compofcd romances, I travelled 
 through the whole world, and my imaginations 
 produced a thoufand pidlures to amule myfelf 
 
 with.
 
 ( ^54 ) 
 v^'kh. But at that time I fancied to fee many 
 ways of faving my life. I did not know whether 
 and how far, my crimes migiit be difcovered, 
 A certain circumftance, which deprived me of 
 all my hopes, was then flill unknown to me. 
 And even then, diiTipation would not anfwer 
 the purpofe. If I could dream in this manner 
 perhaps for feveral hovirs, my terrors and my 
 anxieties would return again. Perhaps fome 
 people will fay, I iliould have exerted my pride, 
 and fliewn, at lead by my outward condud:, that 
 nothina: could humble me. But alas! what ^ 
 miferable pride is it to have a bad confcience, 
 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 
 thofc who blame me nov>^ for taking fhelter un- 
 der it, may .find in their laft hours the fame 
 tranquillity it affords me. 1 here is but one thing 
 in this world which makes me really and con-r 
 tinually uneafy, which is, that I have feduced 
 others to irreligion and v.'ickednefs. I believe 
 I fiiould not properly enjoy my future happinefs, 
 if I knew any of thofe I have deluded, would 
 be eternully unhappy. It is therefore my moll 
 fervent wifh, and my own happinefs depends on 
 it, that God would fhew m.ercy to all thofe, I 
 have by any means turned from him, and call 
 
 then)
 
 ( ^55 ) 
 
 tliem back to retigion and virtue. I pray to 
 God for this fervently." 
 
 Some queftions being afked concerning his 
 prayers, he faid : " He prayed frequently. He 
 held fohloquies in his own heart, and excited 
 hinifelf to confirm and redlify his fentiments 
 more and more. He addrefled himfelf alfo to 
 God, and begged his afiiftance for himfelf and 
 his friends.-' 
 
 He defired me to let him have feme of 
 Cramer's fermons, and the Mejfiah of Klop- 
 ftock. 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 thole 
 do6lrines 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."
 
 ( 156 ) 
 
 ^he thirtieth Conference, April the i lyf. 
 
 'TpH E Count was now To much altered, that 
 fome of his former friends, whom I told 
 of his prefent turn of thoughts and of his con- 
 dud, would fcarce believe it. However, I had not 
 the leaftreafonto doubt ofthefmcerity of either. 
 I do not know for what purpofe he fhould have 
 attempted to deceive me, Befides, diflimulation 
 . was no part of his charafter. All thofe who 
 had an opportunity of feeing him, found him the 
 fame as I did, and I in particular had Trom the 
 beginning guarded myfelf againll being deceived. 
 JIis prefent peace of mind feemed to me in par- 
 ticular a fure proof of the effefts of religion upon 
 his heart. Among many obfervations he made 
 to-day, the following feem to be of fome iq- 
 portance. 
 
 *^ I confider it now," faid he, " as a kind of 
 folly, that the deifts pretend to be offended at 
 the humble appearance Chrift and the firft 
 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 Chrifl was very well 
 
 adapted
 
 ( ^Sl ) 
 adapted to the dcfign of his milTion. The com- 
 mon people took him now to be one of their 
 equals, and placed confidence in him. For this 
 reafon Chrift chofe his Apofties among the lower 
 clafs of mankind, and the Apodles converfcd 
 moftly with fuch. And even thefe common people 
 were as proper fpe6tators of their miracles as an 
 affembly of philofophers, as they were all of that 
 nature, that nothing more was required to judge 
 of them, than the natural fenfes and a common Ihare 
 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 caa 
 now confider thefe facts, and examine whether 
 they are real miracles, and then determine how 
 far they are in favour of Chrift: and his doflrine." 
 
 Laftly, the Count declared, " that he had a fin- 
 cere love towards God and his Redeemer, that 
 he rejoiced in the bleftings of eternity, though he 
 was not anxious as to the time when he ftiould 
 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 confci- 
 2 ence.
 
 ( '5^ ) 
 cnce. i beg of you," added he, " confider of m;^ 
 fituation, whether you find me as I fhould be. 
 "Write to Cramer, and defire him to tell his opi- 
 nion ; I am ready to do what he or you fliall pre- 
 fcribe." 
 
 The Count knew that therfe was a correfpond- 
 cnce between Cramer and me concerning the pro- 
 grefs of his converfion j I ufed to communicate 
 to him thofe palTages 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 lail morn- 
 ing of his life, if any of his letters had been re- 
 ceived which concerned him. 
 
 *The thirty "Jirjl Cojjference. April the 2^thi 
 
 ^T"^ H E following obfervation of the Count 
 rafter. 
 
 -*• will ferve to give us an idea of his cha- 
 
 " Do not mind, faid he, if it fhould be 
 faid, you ought to have urged to me argu- 
 ments which were not fo philofophical and more 
 evangelical -, I afllire you that by no other means 
 you would have found accefs to my heart than 
 by thofe you have chofen. There are only thre6 
 ways which you might have taken : declamation-, 
 2 ftirring
 
 ( 159 ) 
 ftirring lip the icnagination, and cool enquiry. If 
 you had chofen that of declamation, I fhould 
 have immediately thought, If the man has a good 
 caufc, why does he not propofe his reafons with- 
 out any art : if God has a revealed religion, it 
 mult Hand the tell of enquiry, I therefore (hoiild 
 have heard you without any emotion. If you 
 had endeavoured to flir up my imagination, you 
 muft have done it by filling it with terrible defcrip- 
 tions of eternity. This method would have had 
 (till lefs effeft than declamation : I was very fure 
 that after death there was nothing either to hope 
 or fear. Any imprtfiion you might have made 
 through fear would foon have worn off, and 
 would have entirely vanifhed by recoUeding 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 
 caltle afked me if I chofe to converfe with 
 a divine ? Thinking, however, thr.t every 
 clergyman would be apt either to preach too 
 much, or tire me with melancholy declamations, 
 I declined the proposal, and faid ; I and all di- 
 vines differ very much in opinion, and I have 
 no inclination to dilpute. However, I knew 
 
 that
 
 ( iBo ) 
 
 that i mud expe<^ a clergyman to attend mc 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 firil vifit, that if he was ordered 
 to fee me frequently he would be welcome, but 
 I Ihould beg of him not to entertain any hopes of 
 converting me, for I was too well convinced of 
 •my own opinion, and ihould 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 
 ilefired mcj fince the matter was of fo great con- 
 fequence, to examine into' my own principles, 
 and the evidence for chriftianity. I found this 
 reafonable, I had time to do it, and fancied I 
 fliouki, by this enquiry, difcover that chrifti- 
 anity had no foundation, and convince myfelf 
 more flrongly of the trutli of my princi. les. We 
 besun 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 cofl: me to own my error, with regard to 
 myfelf, as well as with regard to you. You may 
 
 remember
 
 ( I^I ) 
 
 t'etiiember that Ldid not from the firfl deny that 
 I had a6led wrong, and had been unhappy in my 
 former fituation, and that my confcience re- 
 proached m.e. But, confidering my former ob- 
 llinacy, 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 reafon. 
 You are tlic beft judge why you treated m.e in 
 the manner you have donej but the luccefs en- 
 tirely juftifics you: my converfion is, through 
 the grace of God, luckily brought about. In 
 vvhat manner this is effedted-muft; be indifferent 
 to all but you and I. Senfible chriftians will 
 rejoice that my foul is faved, and that you have 
 chofcn this method, which, in regard to me, 
 was the only good one.'* 
 
 Towards the end of our converfation I told 
 him, that this weeki in all probability, would 
 be the lafl of his life, as I knew that next- 
 Saturday fentence would be pronounced againll; 
 him, and that between the fentence and the 
 execution of it, there would be very few days. 
 He received this news with his former refolution 
 and fcrenity. 
 
 " I hope, faid he, that I fliall certainly m.eet 
 my death without ftupifying fear and anxiety. 
 1 am only apprehenfive thi;t you will be much 
 
 M iiffcded
 
 ( l62 ) 
 
 affecfled by this fliocking fcene. If it would have 
 no bad efFedt upon the fpeftators, 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 you fhali be happy in eternity : I will afTift 
 you under this fevere fate ; and the only recom- 
 pence I expe6t, is to fee you die as a chriftian. 
 
 T^he thlrty-fecond Co7iference, April the 23^. 
 
 ' I ''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 Ihew, that it was not impofliblc 
 to pradife the laws of chriftianity. He after- 
 wards defired me to appoint a day when he could 
 receive the facrament. I imagined that Thurf- 
 day would be the day of his execution, and as he 
 wifhed to comply with this folemn inftitution 
 fome time before he fufFered, v/e appointed the 
 Monday following.
 
 ( 1^3 ) 
 
 The thirty^third Conference, April the 2 i^tht 
 
 'T"^ H E Count had yefterday finifhed his ac- 
 count of his converfion, and he now deli- 
 vered it to me. 
 
 He afllired me he had drawn it up with a kind 
 of anxiety, left he fhould fay any thing which 
 was not ftri6lly conformable to his former and 
 |)refent principles. This was the reafon why he 
 had been fo long about it. He was afraid he 
 might not have exprefled 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 fubjed ; befidcs, he 
 had endeavoured to exprefs himfelf with concife- 
 ncfs, for fear of being too prolix. The employment 
 itfelf had been very agreeable to him, as it had 
 given him an opportunity of recolledting all the 
 arguments by which he had been convinced, and 
 had now found them fo ftrongi that he was con- 
 fident he would not redeem his life for all his 
 former profperity, by any aflion which might 
 contradidt his prefent conviction. He dcfired m,e 
 now to read what he had drawn up, to judge 
 whether it anfwered that intention for which it 
 was written. 
 
 M 2 I then
 
 ( 1^4 ) 
 I then read the whole before Kim, and found 
 fome obfcure paflages, expreflions and ideas, 
 vyhich might be mifunderftood by chriftians and 
 unbelievers, and made my remarks upon them. 
 Some of thefe pafTages he akered 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 
 rot, and in whofe hands this may fall, that I be- 
 came a chriftian after mature confidcration, and 
 that I die fuch. I am pretty well acquainted 
 with the turn of thinking of the lall, 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 fubje<5t, andreafoned upon it, to fhew 
 them, for inftance, what is my opinion of the 
 myfteries of religion, and why I do not think 
 them contradidlory to reafon. If fuch of my 
 readers as are chriftians fhould find my ideas not 
 altogether as they fhould be, or my exprefiions 
 fometimes improper, I hope they will not be lur- 
 prized, confidering 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, witlioutany further reafoning 
 or explanation or inf ght into the connexion of tiie 
 
 whole
 
 ( 1^5 ) 
 v/hole fyflem, every thing that Chrift has taiighf, 
 becaufe his word is fufiicient for me." 
 
 The Monday foilov.'ing, as I have mentioned 
 already, was appointed for receiving the facra- 
 ment. I told the Count, that fince it was a folemn 
 action, and ai the fan"re time a public confeiTion 
 of his chriflianity, I thought it proper that it 
 . fhould be celebrated before fome witnefTes, 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 
 {o 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 expert my 
 fentence •, this has induced me to refledl on 
 former times. I thought if I had not acfled in 
 fuch a manner as I have done, I fhould not 
 have come into this mifery ; it has made me 
 rather uneafy : however you may be fure that 
 this uneafincfs will foon pafs over ; I have found 
 already fufficient reafon to be above fuch re- 
 
 M 3 flexions.
 
 ( lU ) 
 
 fiexions, fince they are at prefent ill- timed and 
 entirely unneceflary. 
 
 "The thirty-fourth Conference. April the i^th, 
 
 " '\ r Oluptuoufnefs, faid the Count, is the 
 ' fource of all my misfortunes ; ambition 
 has only contributed to haflen and complete them. 
 I have told you already, that when I firft came 
 into Denmark I intended to cut as great a figure 
 &s 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 profelTion as a phyfician. You 
 will find this to be true from what I am going to 
 tell you. I had refolved to leave Altona, to re- 
 sign 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 firft 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 vi^armer ciimat.% were a matter alfo of fome 
 confequence. The many fine things in the Eaft 
 Indies, which 1 had read in voyages, and which
 
 ( 1^7 ) 
 
 had warmed nty imagination, determined me 
 more for the Eail 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 profpecl 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 
 detefl my former way of thinking, which made 
 me follow a wild paflion which always was blind !• 
 And how much am I now punifhed for it !'* 
 
 He was juft fpeaking of feveral things which 
 concerned his heart, of his afFedions 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 expeded nothing elfe, faid the Count j let 
 me fee." 
 
 He read. I fixed my eyes upon him with 
 great attention, but I did not obferve the leaft 
 
 M 4 alteration
 
 ( i68 ) 
 
 akeration in his countenance. After he had 
 read it, he gave it to me. It was as follows : 
 
 " In confeqnence of the Danifh flatnte law, 
 book vi. chapter iv. art. i. It is hereby declared 
 jufl: and right, that Count John Frederick 
 Struenfee, for his due punifhment, and that he 
 may be an example to terrify others, has for- 
 feited his honour, his life, and his eflates. He 
 Ihall be degraded from his dignity as County 
 and all other digities which have been conferred 
 upon him. His coat of arm , which he had 
 as Count, Ihall be broken by the common hang- 
 man. Likewife (hall John Frederick Struenfee*s 
 right hand, and afterwards his head, be cut off, 
 his body fhall be quartered and laid upon the 
 wheel, and his head and his hand Ihall be {luck 
 upon a pole/" 
 
 During the time that I v/a^ reading this kn^ 
 tence and trembled, he began to talk with com- 
 pofure with his council, and aiked if all the 
 points of his accufations had been regarded in 
 framing his fentence. The counfel anfwered in 
 the affirmative. " And what will be the fate of 
 Brandt?" His fentence is exadlly the fame as 
 yours, " And could his council do nothing in 
 order to fave him ?" He has faid every thing 
 fha; fOuld be faid in his favour, but Count 
 
 Brandt
 
 c 1^9 y 
 
 Brandt has too much laid to his charge. The 
 Count was more moved at this, than at his own 
 fate. However he foon recollefled himfelf, 
 wrote fomething to what he had drawn up for 
 his council, and returned it to him. 
 
 When we were alone, I afflired him of my 
 fincere compafilon, and exhorted him to:4uifer 
 his fate widi the patience and fubmifllon of a 
 chriftian. 
 
 " I afifure you," faid he, " I am very eafy 
 about that. Such punifhments fnould make an 
 imprefTion upon others, and therefore they ought 
 to be fevere. I had prepared myfelf for this 
 and more. I thought I might perhaps l">e 
 broken upon the wheel, and v/as already con- 
 fiderincr whether I could fuifer this kind of 
 death with patience. If I have deferred it, my 
 infamy would not be removed, though thofe 
 difgracefLil circumftances were not annexed to 
 it. And if I had not deferved it, which I 
 cannot afTcrt, fenfible people would do me 
 jufticc, and I fliould gain in point of honour. 
 And upon the v/hole, v/hat is honour or in- 
 famy in this world to me ? My judges had 
 the law before them, and therefore tiiey could 
 not judge othcrwife. I confcfs my crime is great ; 
 
 I have
 
 I have violated the Majelly of the King. Many 
 rhings I miglit not have done if I had been fuf- 
 ficiently acquainted with the law — But why did 
 Ineglecl it?" 
 
 To be fure, faid I, you only are to blame. 
 One of your crimes, of which there is not the 
 lead doubt, is not only a crime againft the King's 
 Majefty, but alfo againll the whole nation, 
 and it would be looked upon as fuch in any- 
 other country. That unlawful power which you 
 iifurped to yourfelf, is likewife a crime againft 
 the conftitution of Denmark. And though per- 
 haps you might not think you had been guilty 
 of high treafon on this account, yet the fa6t 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 : 
 
 (C 
 
 I muft only b.^g of you to be upon your 
 guard, left you fl:iould be too much affeded 
 when I go to die. The friendfliip I have for 
 you, from which I cannot but fympathize with 
 you, would make m.e 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 ftiall think proper. I fhall certainly do 
 as much as lies in my power to dired my thoughts 
 
 towards
 
 » 
 
 towards God and my Redeemer. I (hall not tak« 
 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 recolleft 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 compolure 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 chofc 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. I'he letter was as 
 follows : 
 
 " Your letters have encrcafed my pain, but I 
 have found in them that love which you always 
 exprefltd for me. The memory of all that Ibr- 
 row which I have given you, by living contrary 
 to your good advice, and the great affliction 
 my imprilbnment and death mull caufe you, 
 
 grieves
 
 ( ^n ) 
 
 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 prefcnt fituation to my 
 belief in the do6lrir.e and redemption of Chrift. 
 Your prayers and your good example have 
 contributed much towards it. Be affiired, thac 
 your Ton has found that great good, which yoii' 
 believe to be the only true one. Look upori- 
 his misfortune as th/j means v^hich made him 
 obtain it. All imprefTions which a)y fare could 
 make upon you, will be weakened by this, as it 
 has effaced them with me. I recommrnd my- 
 fclf to your further intercefiion before God. I 
 pray inceffintly to Chriil my Redeemer, that he 
 may enable you to bear your prefent calamities. 
 I owe the fame to his aififtance. My love to 
 my brother and fillers. I am, with all filial re- 
 fpea, &c." 
 
 T^he thirty-fifth Conference, April the 26th, 
 
 I 
 
 Heard from General lieutenant Holben, the 
 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
 
 C ^7Z ) 
 enquired of my unfortunate friend, whether he 
 had been troubled with difagreeable dreams. 
 He faid : 
 
 " 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 chriiHanity. Of the 
 uneafinefs of his body he remembered no- 
 thins." 
 
 , I had to acquairvt liiin with the melancholy 
 news that his fcntcnce was confirmed in every 
 particular circumftance, and that it v/as to be 
 executed the day after to-morrow. 1 hoped he 
 would hear it with a compofed mind, and it 
 happened fo. As to thofe circuniftances which 
 were to throw infamy upon his death, he ex- 
 prefTed himfclf thus : 
 
 " I am far above all this, and I wilh my 
 friend Brandt may be the fame. Here in this 
 world, fince I am on the point of leaving it, neither 
 honour nor inftimy can affed me any more. It 
 is equally the fame to m.e after death, whether 
 my body pucrifies 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 rcfurrection, are to ccnUitute my future 
 
 gbriiied
 
 ( '74 ) 
 
 glorified body. It is not my all which is to bs 
 laid upon the wheel. Thank God ! I knows 
 now very well that this dull is not my whole 
 
 )eing." 
 
 When I told liini that next Tuefday would 
 be his dying day, he anfwered : 
 
 ^' I thought it would be P'riday. However, 
 I do not wifli even for this lliort delay. It would 
 be the fame as if I was to undergo a painful 
 operation for my health, and ihould defire to 
 have it delayed when it was juft going to be per- 
 formed. I fhould be obliged to fubmit to it at 
 laft, and I iliould only recover my health later.** 
 ' — He then went through all the circumflances 
 of his death, and compared them with thofe of 
 the death of Chrill, 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 flep he 
 was to take. 
 
 I am unable to defcribe the eafe and tran- 
 quillity with which he fpoke. I expeded much 
 from the power of religion over his heart, but it 
 exceeded my moll fanguine expedations. 
 
 He
 
 C 1/5 ) 
 He afilired rne 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 ufmg himfelf for many 
 years to keep his imagination within bounds, 
 and his entertaining himlclf rather with reflec- 
 tions of found reafon than images of fancy, had 
 in fome refpeds fapported him j but he was 
 convinced that all this, without religion, would 
 never have compofcd his mind. God had adap- 
 ted it for ail I^ind 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 cffefls 
 of tranquillity and fortitude in advcrfity. He 
 added : " Although the way which leads me 
 out of this world is very difagreeable, yet I have 
 reafon to praife God that he has made choice of 
 it j that he has (liewn me the approaching death 
 aforehand, and at the fame time has extricated 
 me out of the pleafures and difiipations of this 
 life. In no other manner fhould I have become 
 acquainted with truth, or fliould have reformed 
 my fentiments •, though I am fure I fhould 
 have adopted chrifiianiry in all fituations of life, 
 if I had known it fo well as I do now : And yet, 
 I never fhould have taken proper time to ex- 
 amine into it. When I form.erly thought on 
 death, it had but little effcd upon me. I rather 
 
 fiipprefled
 
 X 17^ ) 
 
 fupprefHd 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 perfuading 
 myfelf it was folly to imbitter the prefent en- 
 joyments, by thinking on what was to come. 
 Even v;hen I was in danger of my life, I avoided 
 Icokino; into futurity. I have been fometimes 
 fo dangeroufly ill, that my life has been defpair- 
 ed of-, I have been riding furioiifly, and no 
 longer ago than lafb fnmmer broke my arm, by 
 being thrown from my horfc, but it never en- 
 tered my thoughts to look one ftep further than 
 this prefent life. 
 
 Being reminded of felf-examination, he faid, 
 •« 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 
 confcience, on account of the bad principles by 
 which I was actuated, namely, levity, hafte, 
 pride and felfifhnefs. How far they are wrong, 
 cither upon the whole or fmgly confidered in a 
 politicid light, I am unable indeed to determine, 
 becaufe I fiiall not live to fee the confequences. 
 However, I miuft expeft to have been fubjeft 
 to error in my political principles, as well as I 
 
 have
 
 ( ^n ) 
 
 have been in rpy 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 mult fiiy, (for I fhould fp^ak untruth if 
 I was to fpeak oLhefwife) that I am not con- 
 fcious of any bad intentions." 
 
 After this a converfation enfued about the 
 Lord's Supper. When it was finilhed, I told 
 him that a poor peafant, who met me to-day in 
 the ftreet, called ouc to me : - Father, do what 
 you can to convince Struenfee that he has finned 
 againft our Lord Jcfus Chrift; and if he ac- 
 knowledg-es this he will be faved.' The Count 
 was much pleafed, on account of the chriftian 
 love which this man had Ihewn \ and obferved 
 that chriflianity 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 might be fafely delivered. The following 
 is the letter. 
 
 N My
 
 ( 178 ) 
 
 My Lady, 
 
 " I make ufe of the firft moments, which 
 permit me to write to you. Bufinefs, duties, 
 and my late connexions, have perhaps Jef- 
 lened in me the remem.brance of my former 
 friends, but they have not been able to obli- 
 terate their memory entirely. My prefent leifure 
 has revived it the more lively. If my filence 
 has raifed fufpicion againfb 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, fmce 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 and 
 afllire you of this with convidion, 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 with me into mi.sfor tunes, perfons which 
 are related to them. Permit me, my Lady, to 
 
 add
 
 ( '79 ) 
 
 djci to this, my refpeifVs to L^ady Thun, and 
 the family of Mr. de Waitz, I remain, wirh 
 moft: refpedtful fentiments, &c.'* 
 
 April the 26th, 1772. 
 
 'The thirty-Jifth Conference-, April the 26th. 
 
 T Came to-day to the Count with general lieu- 
 ■*■ tenant Hoben, who, at my requell, was 
 prefent at his receiving the facrament. I ad- 
 miniflered 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 tranfadtionj as if he was 
 meltins; into tears. I never oblerved 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 fhould believe, if 1 had not 
 feen it. 
 
 When the Whole tranfaftion of receivino- the 
 facrament was over, he begged leave of the 
 commander of the caftle, to make prefcnts 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 
 fhall find one another again before the throne 
 of God." 
 
 When wc were alone again, he faid : " No- 
 thing is now of great importance to me, but 
 to be certain, that I (hall appear before God 
 with all pofTible 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 reludance, fince, enlightened by 
 chriftianity, I have learnt what is my duty. 
 Thus have I thought myfelf obliged, to draw up 
 the account of my converfion, which is in your 
 pofiefTion, to efface as much as pofTible that im- 
 preflion, which I have made upon others by my 
 
 converfation
 
 ( i8i ) 
 
 converfation and exampk. I can afllire you, 
 I felt more fatisfa(5lion in writing it, than ever I 
 did in drawing np other things, that concerned 
 partly my defence. I have more minutely ex- 
 amined my adminillration offtate affairs j and I 
 can, according to my confcience, judge of it no 
 otherwife than I told you yefterday. I go into 
 eternity, confcious that it was not my intention 
 to make the King or the nation unhappy. It is 
 true, I have, within a Ihort time, amafled con- 
 fiderable riches, and taken advantage of the 
 Kine's favour towards me, in a manner I can- 
 not anfwer for ; but I never have falfified the 
 accounts, though much in this refpeft feems 
 to be againft me, and I can blame nobody 
 who thinks me in this refpedl 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 liis converfion ! It 
 has made me uneafy frequently, and even now 
 ftill after his death. All manner of appearances, 
 his own confeflion, that he could not free himfelf 
 from all fufpicion, and many other evi- 
 dences are againft him. However, on the 
 other fide, it makes me eafy that he confeffed 
 greater and more puniftiable crimes, without 
 
 N 3 conftrainr.
 
 ( IS2 ) 
 
 condiaint, but denied this with a firmnefs, 
 calmnefs of mind and confidence, which, in-? 
 explicable as the matter remains, makes k 
 difficult to believe him guilty. 
 
 ^' I have traced out, continued he, the origiq 
 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 impofllble in 
 my prefent fituation, to draw my thoughts fron"\ 
 my imminent danger by difllpation. Approach- 
 ing death is not fo eafily expelled from one's 
 thoughts. I feel no more of any pride. I arq 
 too fenfible how little I am in this my prifon. \ 
 d?teft the principle that teaches, there are no ex- 
 pedations after death. Nothing but the affurance 
 of the divine mercy through faith in Chrift, and 
 the confcioufnefs that I fpare no pains to makp 
 my fentiments acceptable before God, comforts 
 and compofes me." 
 
 " However," added he, " this my eafe makes 
 me not idle ; for I continue, and Ihall do fo 
 iintil to the very lall, to fearch earneflly after all 
 thofe things in me which ftill may difpleafe 
 God, that I may remove tliem as much as 
 poffible." 
 
 3 Among
 
 ( 183 ) 
 
 Among the many proofs he gave of this, I 
 fhall only mention the following, becaufe it 
 fhews how fcrupuloufly confcientious he was. 
 
 " I think, faid he, that it is the duty of a 
 diriftian to pray before he fits down to a meal, 
 though my fentiments in this refpe6l do not 
 favour fuperftition. It is but juft, to direct our 
 thoughts on i 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 afcer 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 dire6l 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 ia 
 every thin^ his palTions drove him to ?
 
 ( i84 ) 
 
 "The thirty-Jeventb Conference, April the I'^th, 
 
 I Found him to-day in the moft unfeigned 
 tranquillity of mind, to which indeed I had 
 been witnefs for feverai 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 wifh that 
 I might not be the only man upon earth, who 
 heard him fpeak fo comppfedly about his death. 
 
   O "11- 
 
 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 other papers, which he had written in 
 his prifon, were inclofed in a cover, and fealed 
 up by me in theprefence of the commander of the 
 caftle, who once more did us the favour to 
 come into the prifon. The other papers, which 
 confifted of tliofe 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 
 likewife. — And now he had fct his houfe in 
 order.— r
 
 ( 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 fateof our dear Enevold. Do not think. 
 
 me unworthy of fharing 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 poflefled the largeft Ihare 
 
 of my friendlhip. His misfortunes give me the 
 
 greateft anxiety, and my own have been on this 
 
 account moll painful to me. He has (hared my 
 
 profperity with me, and I truft that we now both 
 
 together Ihall enjov 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 (hall not ceafe to 
 
 entertain a rnoft lively fenfe of gratitude for all 
 
 thofe pcrfons, which are dear to me at Ranzau, 
 
 I am wholly your's.'^ 
 
 4^ril the 27th, 1772. 
 
 " P. S. T have been in hopes, and Hill flatter 
 
 myfelf, that the fentence of my friend v;iil be 
 
 fnitigated.'^ 
 
 g ' ' The
 
 ( iS6 ) 
 The fubjed of ovir to-day's, converfation \V4S 
 chiefly upon the redemption of Chrifl. I re- 
 peated mollly what I Jiad fpoken on the fiibjefT 
 already when we purpofely treated on it. He faid 
 many ftriking and edifying things on this oc- 
 cafion ; but the emotion my heart was in, 
 prevented my perfed: remembrance of each par- 
 ticular. The following is part of it 
 
 " I look upon the reconciliation of men to 
 God, through the death of Chrifl, as the only 
 means of receiving forgivenefs of fins. Every 
 thing elfe, which is believed' to ferve the fame 
 purpofe, is apparently infuftcient. 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 
 life of this redemption, declares that he will nei- 
 ther be virtuous, nor fear God ; for he reje6ts 
 the ftrongeft motives which God could ever prO' 
 pofe to mankind, to fear him and to love virtue ; 
 be flights the afilllance of God, without which 
 nobody can be honeft or good." 
 
 He added : " I leave the world, fully con- 
 vinced of the truth of the chrirtian religion.** 
 
 \ then
 
 ( 18; ) 
 
 J then turned ^our converfation upon the 
 Jove of a pioys chriftian towards God, I 
 iliewed 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 
 h^s Redeemer. He faid : 
 
 " I look upon God ^nd Chrift as my befl 
 friends ; and it> this view I confider thofe oblif^a- 
 tions of love which I owe to God and my Re- 
 deemer. I firft muft know and feel for what I 
 gm 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- 
 as I do not acknowledge this, or do not know 
 how to value the fame, lb long am I unworthy 
 of his friendlhip, and do not love him. I am 
 further obliged to fhew my readinefs to ad ac- 
 cording to his intentions : elfe I am ungrateful, 
 and want him to be my friend only for felf- 
 intereft, and to do nothing myfelf that was 
 worthy of his friendlhip. 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 ChriH; to procure my falva- 
 tion. I know how great the blefllng is which 
 I Ihall enjoy through him. But I am likewife 
 
 confcious
 
 ( i88 ) 
 
 confcious that I do, whatever I can, to a6l 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 reluftance to his will 
 in reo-ard to myfelf, becaufe I know he loves me. 
 I look upon my death, and all thofc awful and 
 io-nominious circumftances that are to attend it, 
 as things which God found neceflary for my own 
 good. In t'ne beginning of my confinement, I 
 thought quite different from what I do now, even 
 when I recollc6led 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 abftaining from eating and to ftarve 
 myfelf to death : yet I never fhould have laid 
 hands on myfelf, though I fhould 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 
 fatisfaftion in regard to his falvation, and that 1 
 faw now how great reafon he had to be fo calm 
 and fo compofed as I found him. 
 
 " Yes, thanks be to God, faid he, I am as 
 fatisfied as a man can be who fees his greatefl 
 happinefs before him. I therefore humbly adore 
 
 , the
 
 ( J89 ) 
 the mercy of <iod, and the power of religion. 
 If it happens that my tranquillity is interrupted 
 for fome moments, it is caufed by the wifh 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 myfelf on this point." I an- 
 fv/ered. 
 
 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 fmce 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 refpetls T 
 could think of, and I find nothing that can make 
 me uneafy. If I found any thing of this kind, I 
 lliould have told you of it, and have afked your 
 advice. But how eafily may I have overlooked 
 many things which are known to God j and if 
 fo, what will he do ?" 
 
 He
 
 ( ^9« ) 
 He will forgive you, faid I, becaufe you liaise 
 done what you could do in thole circumftances 
 you were in. We cannot raife ourfelves to per- 
 fedion. 
 
 We afterwards confulted and fettled how we 
 fhould ad to-morrow, it being the day when he 
 was to die. I promifed to be with him Ibme 
 hours before he went to the fcaffold ; for, ac- 
 cording to the King's order, I duril not go along 
 with him to the place of execution ; I was to go 
 before him, and to receive Iiim there* 
 
 He defired me to carry on our converfatiort 
 to-morrow, as compofedly and as coolly as 
 hitherto. He wilhed that we might finifh what 
 we had to do on the fcaffold as quick as poflible, 
 and that I might keep up my fpirits, that he 
 mif^ht not fee me fuffer. As for himfelf, he 
 fhould fay nothing there but what he thought 
 abfolutely neceflary ; for he would dired his 
 thoughts entirely towards God, and that eternity 
 he was to enter into. 
 
 1 told him, that according to the ritual I Was 
 to afk him a great many qucftions, but that 1 
 thought I had a right of Ihortening them. I did 
 this in his prefencc, wrote the queftions down, 
 
 which
 
 ( 19^ ) 
 which I was to-Qflc him, and read them to him 
 afterwards. 
 
 " I do not chufe, faid he, to fee my brother 
 and to 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 aiTurc him of my leaving this v/orld 
 with true brotherly affedion for him. Tell him 
 likewife of the fentiments in which I die, and 
 how you find me." 
 
 This commifTion, which v/as the mofl tender 
 and mofl moving I ever had, I difcharged, by 
 the leave of the commander, this very evening, 
 and carried back the anfwer of the much afRclat 
 brother. 
 
 T/je thirty-eighth Conference. April the 2^tb. 
 
 A Ccording 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 agood while the precceding evening, 
 
 and
 
 C 192 ) 
 
 and went td 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, 
 drefied himlclf, and converied with the officer 
 very compoledly. 
 
 I found him lying on a couch, drefled as he 
 intended to go to the place of execution. He 
 was reading Shleo-el's fermons on the fufferings 
 of Chrift, and received me with his ufual ferene 
 and compofed countenance. He laid : 
 
 " I was thinking laft night vvhether it might 
 not ftrengthen me in my way to death, if I was to 
 fill my fancy with agreeable images of eternity 
 and future biifs. I might have ufed for this purpofe 
 Lavater's Profpe£fs into Eternity : but I will not' 
 venture to do this. I rather think it better to 
 take this great Itep in cool confideration. Fancy, 
 if once put in agitation, can foon take a falfe 
 turn. It could difmils (perhaps) at once, my 
 agreeable and pleafing profpefts of eternity, and 
 eagerly catch at the formidable circumflances of 
 death, by which means I fear that I fhould be 
 unmanned. Even in going to the place of execu- 
 tion, I will not indulge it, but rather employ my 
 
 reafon
 
 ( 195 ) 
 reafon in meditating on the walk of Chriil to his 
 death, and apply it to myfelf." 
 
 He then defired me, if I thought it neceflary, 
 to afliire his judges in his name once more, 
 that what he had confefled, was in all rcfpedls 
 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 mornino- and found 
 that it was daylight, my whole body was feized 
 with a vehement trembling. I took direfdy 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 perfedlly happy. I foon recovered 
 my fpirits again. I am now calm and com- 
 pofed, and I am fure I lliall remain fo. Why 
 fhould I make myfelf uneafy, when T 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 thinc^s 
 which he ftill diflikes in me, and which I by felf- 
 examination could not difcover, and therefore 
 could not reform. God can not forgiv^e vice in 
 general, without doing the fame in every parti- 
 cular fpecies of vice. The remembrance of the 
 
 O fuffe rings
 
 ( 194 ) 
 fufFerings of Chrift, who has fatisHed God fof 
 all men, afilire me of this. And fince I am fa 
 certain of my falvation, I do not dread death. 
 Fear of death would be inconfiftent under cir- 
 cum.ftances 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 ihall lay any thing to the charge of God's 
 eied ?— 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 exceUently well adapted to 
 his former and his prefent fituation. The mod 
 vifible calmnefs was to be obferved in his whole 
 countenance ; and he frequently prevented my 
 aoinc on, by falling into the fame obfervations 
 I wa^'s juft going to make in order to ftrengthen 
 his faith. 
 
 He now alked 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 grven you a certain ftrength of foul, 
 it is his will that you fliall make ufe of it, in 
 thofe moments when you ftand moft 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 
 Ipedators on account of your refolution and com- 
 pofure. You are to be above fuch things. God 
 loves fincerity, which confifts in fhewing our- 
 felves outwardly as we are inwardly. Shew 
 yourfelf therefore exa6lly in the manner as you 
 feel yourfelf within. If you even fhoukl be fo 
 much affefted as to flied tears, do not hide them, 
 and do not be afnamed of them ; for they are no 
 diOionour to you. You cannot conceal from 
 yourfelf, even unto the very lad 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 fuffer 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 Ihould 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 inie- 
 
 O 2 refting
 
 ( 19^ ) 
 refbing to me than to pleafe God, and to conquer 
 the terrors of death. If I fliould force myfelf ro 
 appear outwardly different from what I am within, 
 it would happen to me what happens to a man, 
 who is to fpeak to an eminent perfbn, 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 fhali, as much as lies in my power, direft my 
 thoughts towards God, and not difturb myfelf 
 by ftudying to fatisfy the expeftation of the 
 fpecflators. Tlierefore I fliall fay nothing on the 
 fcaffold, but whai: you yourfelf fliall give me 
 occafion for." 
 
 I aflure you, faid I, I fn all give you very few 
 opportunities for it ; the fcaffold is neither for 
 you nor for me the place for fpeaking much. 
 When you are there, it will be your bufmefs to 
 flrengthcn your thoughts as much as pofiible, 
 forgettinp- thofe things which are behind, and 
 reaching forth unto thofe things Vv^hich are before, 
 
 " Now, faid he, fince I am fo near death, I find 
 how necellary and how beneficial to men the pofi- 
 tive afiertion of Chrift is of tlie exiftence of eter- 
 nity. If I was not fure of this, mere reafon 
 would give me but little fatisfaftion upon this 
 quelUon : Whether a few hours hence any thing 
 
 would
 
 C "^^1 ) 
 
 would be left of me that retained its life ? — I can 
 likewife tell you, from my prelent 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 (hould have become quite hardened, 
 if this wound had not been healed." 
 
 *« I believe you have obferved, that I would 
 not let thofe fenfations which were produced by 
 rpy 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 conlcious 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 good 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 expedation. — An officer 
 
 O 3 ^ came
 
 ( I9S ) 
 
 came in, and defircd 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 
 affefted. The Count, as if it did not concern 
 him in the leaft, comforted me by faying : 
 
 " Make yourfelf eafy, my dear friend, by con-, 
 fidcring 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 haftened to the 
 place of execution. 
 
 He being foon called after me, got up from 
 his couch, and follovv^cd thofe which were to con- 
 du6l him. Coming out of the prifon and getting 
 into the coach, he bowed to thofe that were 
 ftanding 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 refpedtive coaches near the fcaffold, and 
 Count Brandt had mounted it firfl, I got into 
 the coach of Struenfee, and ordered the coach- 
 man to turn about, to prevent his having the 
 profpedt of the fcaftokl 
 
 ** I have
 
 ( 199 ) 
 " I have feen him already," faid he. I could 
 not recolle<5t myfelf fo foon, and he finding my 
 uneafinefs, faid, with a fmiiing 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 pleafing 
 it mufl; be to you to be confcious of this. I fhali 
 praife God with you in eternity that you have 
 faved my foul." 
 
 I was fiill more affedled than before, and faid, 
 that I fhould look upon this tranfaftion 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 jfhould continue our friendlliip in a future 
 world. — I fhould 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- 
 verfation and aftions, had raided them in their 
 notions of virtue and religion, he, .as a dyin^ 
 man, acknowledged the injury he had done, 
 begged them to efface thefe imprefTions, and to 
 forgive him. 
 
 After fome filence on both fides, he aflced me: 
 " Suppofe God, fince he knows all things, 
 Hiould fee that in cafe I had lived longer, I fhould 
 
 O 4 not
 
 ( 200 ) 
 
 not have kept faithfully to my prefent principles 
 and fentiments ; could that have any influence 
 upon that judgment which I Ihall foon receive ?'* 
 I anfwered, 
 
 God judges by adions 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 condenin any one who dies in fulfilling 
 thofe conditions under which he has promifed 
 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 plcafe him. Our Saviour fays, 
 without determining any thing relative to this 
 matter, " He that comes to me, I will in no v/ife 
 caft out •," I therefore will make myfelf eafy that 
 I have kept fo long from God and virtue." 
 
 On feeing the great number of fpeflatcrs, I 
 told him, that among thefe thoufands, v/ere 
 many that would pray to God to have mercy 
 
 upon him. 
 
 " I hope fo, faid he, and the thought pleafea 
 me." He foon after added : 
 
 I « It
 
 ( 201 ) 
 
 " It is a folcmn 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- 
 crificins his own fon. What a love is this ! 
 
 o 
 
 '^ You fee me, continued he, outwardly, the 
 fame as I find myfelf within." And I perceived, all 
 the while 1 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 converie 
 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 recoiled: any caufe from which this eafe 
 arifes, that could difpleafe God. I am not am- 
 jjjtious 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 fliall have more there, which I will 
 not endeavour to conceal. But you may be 
 alfured, 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 lufferings Chrift bore when he died. 
 Recoiled only his words : " My God, my God, 
 why haft thou forfakcn me ?" and confider, what 
 excruciating pain it mull have caufed him, to 
 hang for feveral hours on the crofs before he 
 died !" 
 
 I exhorted him again not to fhew any affefled 
 fortitude in thefe laft moments which was not 
 natural to him. Such afFeftations would cer- 
 tainly difpleafe God, and if he now ftill would 
 mind what the fpe6tators might think, I muft tell 
 him, that only a few Ihort-fighted people would 
 believe his affecled firmnefs to be true. 
 
 I then faid : Chrift prayed for his murderers 
 even on the crofs. May I rely upon your leaving 
 this world with the fame fentiments of love to- 
 wards thofe you might have reafon tq think your 
 enemies ? 
 
 (C 
 
 Firft, faid he, I Jiope 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, an3 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 in the blifs of that 
 world which I hope to enter into, it would give 
 me the highefl fatisfaftion- 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 
 guefled, from the motion of the fpedators, 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 pafled with decency and humble- 
 nefs through the fpectators, and bowed to fome 
 of them. AVith fome difficulty he mounted the 
 ftairs. When we came up, I fpoke very con- 
 cifely, and with a low voice, upon thefe words 
 of Chrift : " He that believeth in me, though 
 he were dead, yet (hall he live." It would have 
 been impoITible for me to fpeak much and loud, 
 even if I had attempted it. 
 
 I obferve here that he fliewed not the leail 
 ?.ffe6tation in his condud upon the fcaffold : 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. He was pale, it was difficult 
 for him to fpeak, the fear of death was vifible in 
 his whole countenance j but at the fame time, 
 fubmiflion, calmnefs and hope were expreiled in 
 his air and deportment. 
 
 His fentence, and afterwards the King's con-, 
 iirmation of it, were read to him ; his coat 
 of arms was publickly fhewn and broken to 
 pieces. During the time that his chains were 
 taking off, I put the following queflions to him : 
 Are you truly forry for all thofe adlions by 
 which you have offended God and men .? 
 
 " You know my late fentiments on this point, 
 and I affure you they are this very moment ftill 
 the fame.'* 
 
 Do you truft 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 truft in this alone." 
 
 Do you leave this world without hatred or J 
 malice againit any perfon whatever ^ 
 
 " I hope
 
 ( 205 ) 
 
 " 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 yon juft before." 
 
 I then laid my hand upon his head, ftying : 
 Then go in peace whicher God calls you ! His 
 grace be with you ! 
 
 He then began to undrefs, and enquired of 
 the executioners how far he was to uncover him- 
 felf, and defired them to afllft him. He then 
 haftcned tov/ards the block, that was ftained and 
 flill 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 liis hand, I 
 began to pronounce flowly the words ; '- Re- 
 member Jefus Chriil crucified, who died, but is 
 rifen again." Before I had finifiied thefe words, 
 both hand and head, fevered from the body, lay 
 before my fcer. 
 
 How wonderful is God, and how great his 
 care for the filvation of men, that are flill ca- 
 pable of being faved ! But how different is the 
 judgment we arc to pronounce over fuch men, 
 
 according
 
 ( 206 ) 
 
 according to the principles of the kingdom of 
 God, from that which the world pronounces ! 
 If Count Scruenfee had remained in his former 
 prolperity, 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 grreateft villain. The world has feen him die a 
 makfadlor ; but the difpofition in which he left 
 the world, will be a fufficient inducement for true 
 chriftians to forgive him the ignominy where- 
 with he iiad ftaincd 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.
 
 ( 209 ) 
 
 To Dr. MUNTER. 
 
 tTOU defire, dear friend, that I fhould leave 
 •^ behind me * my thoughts, how I was in- 
 duced to alter my fentiments in regard to reli- 
 gion. You have been witnefs of it. You have 
 been my guide, and therefore I am infinitely 
 obliged to you. I fatisfy your defire with fo 
 much greater pleafure, as it will afford me an 
 opportunity of recoll€(5ling the train of ideas 
 and imprefTions of mind which have produced 
 my prcfent fentiments, and confirm my prefent 
 conviction. 
 
 My unbelief and my averfion to religion, were 
 founded neither upon an accurate inquiry into its 
 truth, nor upon a critical examination of thole 
 doubts that are generally made againft it. 
 They arofe, as is ufual in fuch cafes, from a very 
 general and fuperficial knowledge of religion on 
 one fide, and much inclination to difobey it's 
 precepts on the other, together with a readinefs 
 to entertain every objcdion which I difcovered 
 
 • The reader will rccollefl what is faid about this 
 account in the Preface, and p. 142, 143, 163, i6'4. 
 
 P %ainft
 
 ( 2IO ) 
 
 ag;ainft it. You know how indifferent that common 
 inftrLi»51:ion in religion is, which is given in public 
 fchools : yet I was to blame not to have made ufe of 
 the private inftruclions and example of my parents. 
 Since my fourteenth year, all my time was taken 
 up in fludying phyfic. If I afterv/ards fpent 
 much time in reading other books, it was only 
 to divert myfelf, and to extend my knowledge of 
 thofe fciences by means of which I hoped to make 
 my fortune. The violence of the palTions which 
 inade me abandon myfelf in my youth to all 
 Wfual pleaiures and extravagancies, left me 
 fcarce time to think of morality, much lefs of 
 
 reiio-icn. 
 
 When experience afterwards taught me how 
 little fatisfaftion was to be found in the irregu- 
 lar enjoyment of fuch pleafurcrs, and refle6lion 
 convinced me that a certain inv/ard fatisfadion 
 was requifite for my happinefs, fuch as cannot 
 be attained either by the obfervance of parti- 
 cular duties, or by the omiffion of fcandalous 
 cxcefTes : 1 therefore endeavoured to imprint in 
 my mind fuch principles as 1 "judged proper to 
 govern my adlions, and v;hich 1 tfiought would 
 anfv/er the end 1 had in view. But how did I 
 undertake this tafk i* ' My ^ memory. y/as filled up 
 with moral principles, but at the fame time, I 
 ^ had
 
 ( 2ii ) 
 
 had various ^excufes to reconcile a complying 
 reafon with the weaknefies and the infirmities of 
 the human heart. My underftanding was pre- 
 poflefled with doubts and difficulties, againll 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 necefhty of facrificing my favourite 
 inclinations. Thefe v/ere my guides in my re^ 
 fearches. 
 
 - I took it for granted, that in matters merely 
 relative to the happinefs of man, neither a deep 
 nnderftanding nor wit or learning were required ; 
 but our own experience and ideas only, of 
 which every one miuft 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 exad; oblervation 
 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 z bis 
 
 V 
 
 f
 
 K 212 ) 
 
 his greatnefs and the general gratitude on ac* 
 count of our exiftcnce. The aftions of man, 
 as far as they are determined by notions pro- 
 duced by natural inftinfts, by agreeable or dif- 
 agreeable imprefTions of external objeds, of 
 education, of cullom, and the different circum- 
 ftances he is in, appear to me to be fuch, as 
 could in particular inftances neither pleafe 
 nor difpleale God, any more than the different 
 events in nature, which are founded in its eternal 
 laws. I was fatisfied in obferving that gener^ 
 as well as particular inftances, tended to one 
 point, namely the prefervation of the v/hoie ; 
 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 fatisfadlion. 
 
 The defire which every one feels to be vir- 
 tuous, and a natural inclination for anions ufe- 
 ful in focicty, induced me to ufe my utmoft en- 
 deavours to acquire a habit of virtue. But how 
 could I find out true virtue, ,a3 I did not feek 
 for it, where it svas only to be found ? What 
 a difference is there in the opinions of philofo- 
 
 phers
 
 ( 213 ) 
 
 phers about ifs nature and its motives ; how con- 
 tradi(5ling is the judgment of meri on account of 
 the effects it produces in particular cafes ! Yet 
 thefe were to determine my method of a6ting, 
 even if God did not judge me, and I fiiould 
 refign myfelf up to my confcience, which is fo 
 eafily mifled, fo often overpowered by pafiions, 
 and fo frequently not to be heard at all. 1 
 found at lead, 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 inadive. Thefe and 
 other refledions induced me to think, that vir- 
 tue confiiled in nothing elfe, but in aftions 
 which are ufeful to fociety, and in a defire of 
 producing them. — Ambition, love of our native 
 country, nr.tural 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 
 impreffions upon particular perfons. — Reafon 
 and reflection were, in my opinion, the 
 only teachers and regulators of virtue. He is 
 to be counted the moft virtuous whofe aflions 
 are the moft ufeful, the moft difficult to be 
 pradtifed, and of the moft extenfive influence ; 
 
 P 3 and
 
 ( 214 ) 
 
 and no one could be blamed vv'ho obferved the 
 laws of his country, and the true principles of 
 honour. 
 
 I thought I had found in the nature of man 
 fufHcient powers and fprings to make him vir- 
 tuous. Revealed religion I looked upon as un- 
 neceffary, fince it could only convince men, 
 whofe underftandings were lefs enlightened, of the 
 obligations of virtue. The effefts of religion I 
 never had perceived within me, at Icaft I never 
 had regarded them. Its do6trines feemed to 
 contradid all the reft of my notions. Its morals 
 appeared to me too fevere, and I believed I 
 found them full as clear, perfecft and ufeful in 
 the writings of philofophers. 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 abuie 
 has produced a great many fatal confequences, — 
 few of thofe that know it, a6t agreeably to its 
 precept?;, — 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 
 contradi6ts the precepts of religion and oppofe^ 
 them : — and you will eafily imagine what infer- 
 ences I drew from thence. 
 
 Reafon
 
 ( 215 ) 
 
 Peafon guided by underftanding, fupported 
 by ambition, lelf-love, and a natural inclination 
 to what is good, became now the principles 
 which determined my actions. To how many 
 errors and mii'^akes was I expofed ! I found it 
 not difficult to excufe my favourite paffions, 
 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- 
 fpedion. 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 fubfiftcd without 
 knowing or praftifmg 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 adl 
 not quite thoughtlefly, but attempt to apologize 
 
 P 4 by
 
 ( 2l6 ) 
 
 by arguments for the irregularity of their life. 
 How eaiy is it in this manner to palliate and to j uflify 
 the indulgence of every one of our paflions ? 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 juftice 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 acftions. But how was I able to 
 do this, were it pofTible to anfwcr only for their 
 moft: immediate confequences ? Did I not 
 deceive myfelf, in believing that I had the 
 ftrongefl intentions of doing good, and did really 
 as much as I was able to do ? Was it infatua- 
 tion, infenfibility and affedation, when I flat- 
 tered myfelf to find, firmnefs ^nd 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 fubjed to ? I 
 had but a confufed idea of my moral principles, 
 and I could not reje6t them, without depriv- 
 ing myfelf of all comfort. My exped:a- 
 tions of futurity I before told you : an4 
 
 by
 
 C 217 ^ 
 
 by dinipating nfy thoughts and dire6llng them to 
 other fubjefts, I could more cafily bear my mif- 
 fortiines, and fupport my natural difpofition, as 
 the impreflion, an obje6t makes upon our mind, 
 grows flronger by conftantly reflefting 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 paflion that could rife within me. 
 However, I found it but jufb to enquire into a 
 ■matter that concerned my happinefs, and which 
 might be of fuch confequence with regard to 
 futurity. An opinion, where the greateft proba- 
 bility amounts to certainty, receives Hill greater 
 by examining that which is oppofite to it. And 
 to anfwer the objections which can be made 
 againft it, requires at leaft as much attention 
 from us, as we bellowed upon the examination 
 of the arguments which induced us to embrace 
 it. 
 
 Upon confidering my moral principles, I be- 
 gan immediately to doubr, whether they might 
 i)Ot have been the caufe of my miftaking what I 
 I chiefly
 
 ( 2l8 ) 
 
 chiefly aimed at, namely, the inward fatisfadlion 
 of my aftions. I was very fenfible, how much 
 I dcferved the reproaches of my own mind 
 as well as thofe of others if it was only on ac- 
 count of my unhappy friends, whofe misxortunes 
 greatly affecled me. Might it not have been 
 better, to have judged of my aftions more by 
 thinking from whence they arofe, than to what 
 they related, and what their confequences were ? 
 How few would my pleafures have been, and 
 how little would my life have been ! However, 
 I Ihould now have lefs necefiity for repentance 
 and contrition, though before I muil have had 
 greater confiids and flruggles with myfelf. The 
 tim.es of my fuffering are only altered. If the 
 firft had taken place, my troubles would have 
 been fhorter, but no\v I feel an uniform and 
 continued feries of difagrceable fenfations. I 
 then fhould have fuffered only myfelf. — AncJ 
 what Hitisfaction have I received of all which for- 
 tune feemed to promife me ? My paflions were 
 perhaps gratified, but in fuch a manner as al- 
 ways left a void after them. My wifhes were 
 fatisfied, but the anxiety I was under to preferve 
 my pofTefiions, took away the greateft part of 
 their pleafure. I enjoyed a variety of pleafures, 
 which by their nature deftroy one another, and 
 are at the m,oll nothing more than diffipations, 
 
 2 I grew
 
 ( 219 ) 
 
 I grew at laft infenfible to the pleafures of life, 
 which is the natural confequence of being in 
 pofiefTion of every thing which can render life 
 eafy and agreeable. I did not enjoy the comforts 
 of friendiliip and fociety, as the fituation I was 
 in was extremely dillipated, and it required at- 
 tention to a hundred trifles; be fides, the impof- 
 fibility of diverting my thoughts from the Htde 
 dependance. I could place on it, would not 
 admit of any real fatisfaftion. Suppofing too, 
 that I even had good intentions, and the lawful 
 means of putting them into practice, and that 
 my faults were only the conlequences of inat- 
 tention and natural weaknefs, I fhould lofe all 
 the comforts I might derive from the former, by 
 reproaching myfelf on account of the latter. I 
 might have avoided them, by recolleding all 
 their confequences, according to their different 
 relations. However, even this was impoffible 
 when my paffions reprefented to me the danger 
 my own happinefs and that of others v/as in, and 
 the impoflibility of providing againft confe- 
 quences which were then at a diftance. 
 "When my palTions and my reafon were in op- 
 pofition, and the underflanding was to decide, I 
 might have been always inclined in favour of 
 ^hat fide where the plcafure feemed ncareft, and 
 
 pain
 
 ( 220 ) 
 
 pain at the gretUeft diftance. Ambition and felf- 
 love, and the influence our a6lions have upon one 
 another are eafily explained, and in their appli- 
 cation, found liifficient to anfvver their purpofes. 
 I could not now deny but that my principles 
 were not capable of procuring me moral tran- 
 quillity, that my palTions had been the chief 
 fprings of all my a6lions, 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 mull 
 rejedt them, if they indiured me to commit an 
 aftion which deferves reproaches, and which 
 deftroys my inward happinefs. 
 
 I was ready to give up my former principles 
 as foon as I could difcover better. 1 faw that 
 they were liable to two objections. My way 
 of judging of the morality of my anions from 
 their relations and confequences, was neither fafe 
 nor certain. My arguments in favour of 
 virtue, might be equally applicable to juftify 
 the gratification of my paffions, as to con- 
 troul them. They were not fufBciently 
 ftrong in their effecls, and were alfo liable to be 
 mifmterpreted, v;hen my paffions bccam.e too 
 impetuous. Confcience, the inward fenfe of 
 
 what
 
 C 221 ) 
 
 what Is good or bad, and the fear of God, feemed 
 not to obnate this difficulty. I found fufficient 
 reafons to difallow them, and my fenfuality 
 would not permit me to feel their impreflion. 
 Should thefe have taught me how to act with 
 propriety and juftice in all circumftances, and to 
 make myfelf eafy, though the confequences, 
 the opinion of men, and the reproaches of my 
 friends had been againft me ? No doubt. But 
 then my aflions Ihould have been derived from 
 my fentiments, and thefe fhould have had a cer- 
 tain fixed rule to direft them, to prevent me 
 from falling into error. 
 
 I perceived my miftake, that I had placed vir- 
 tue in a6lions only, without regard to their inten- 
 tions, and by this I had loft -what I was perfu- 
 ing, inward contentment. Gellert fliewcd me 
 the m^ans by which I might have avoided it. 
 Jerufalem convinced me what ftrength and af- 
 fiftance true devotion fyrniihes us with. Rei- 
 marus removed the doubts I had, that God did 
 not concern himfelf with the moral adlions of 
 m^n. I will not repeat the feries of meditations, 
 which convinced me of the truth of what thefe 
 fixcellent writers teach us. I fhall only repeat a 
 
 few
 
 ( 111 ) 
 
 few of them, and thofe only which made the 
 vftrongeft imprefiion upon me* 
 
 Was it not the love of fenfual pleafures, which 
 made me deny that truth, which my reafon 
 afiented to, and reprefented other obje6ls and 
 falfe notions as niatters of confequence? — Is 
 there more fafety and wifdom, where I find 
 fimple principles, which may be pradifed 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 aftion ? If the moral diftin6lion 
 between virtue and vice, is not to be founded on 
 the intentions, none can pretend to virtue, at 
 lead, it does not depend upon our own will. 
 The prudent, the cautious, the crafty, the hy- 
 pocrite fnall then be virtuous -, the fimple, the 
 carelefs, the unhappy, the fincere fhall then be 
 called wicked. My inward fatisfaftion 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 the 
 univerfe taken together, is only worth the atten- 
 tion of the fupreme Being. We know that 
 
 knowledge'
 
 ( 223 ) 
 
 "knowledge and. a combination of /many parti- 
 cular events and operating caiiles, which all tend 
 to one end, produce aftlons 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 fighc of the whole, by ex- 
 amining the parts feparately. He is therefore 
 obliged to fix his attention only upon thofe 
 caufcs which are neareft and moil fenfible in 
 their effcifts. Thofe which are more remote 
 he mufl leave to chance, or which is the fame 
 thing, he muft fuppofe, that they will not fail of 
 their end, though they are not in his power. 
 But let us go farther. He that views the mod 
 remote pofiible event at one vier, and knows 
 how to direct every one of them to anfwer his 
 particular defign, and to remove with the 
 greateft facility the obftacles v/hicli are in his 
 way, defcrves 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 efFe6l this. The faults of fingle fol- 
 diers cannot be pleafing to a good general in 
 time of action if he perceives them, and he needs 
 muft difcover them. Many little irregularities 
 render the whole imperfect. We overlook 
 them, becaufe our abihties will not permit us to 
 
 do
 
 ( '-^24 } 
 do otherwifc, and we arc ufed to dcfpife 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 our example, 
 and takes care of' the whole without attending to 
 
 O 
 
 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 a6ls 
 always according to a fatal neceflity. God 
 therefore will certainly obferve, how far every 
 individual afts by his free-will confiftently with 
 his determination. Univ-erfal happinefs cannot 
 take place unlefs every one contributes towards 
 it. 
 
 It is no argument, that God has difpenfed fucli 
 a number of good things in nature, and the 
 inftinfls of man are fo various, that every one 
 may be happy. Others generally fuffer and 
 are made uneafy when our poffefllons encreafe, 
 and our enjoyments are great. Therefore the 
 defire of encreafing our happinefs in this manner, 
 is inconfiilent with our determination. The in- 
 creafe of our moral perfccrions can take place 
 without detriment and for the benefit of the 
 whole. The fmalleil tranfgrcfTion in this refpeft 
 
 muft
 
 ( 225 ) 
 
 muft be difpleafing to God. What apologies 
 c:an we make P Perhaps fuch as a courtier makes 
 when he deceives his mafter to ferve his friend, 
 or a minifter of ftate when he lofes fight of 
 the public good to ferve his own private in- 
 tereft. 
 
 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 objedls before us what we 
 want to fee. It is impofTible to have all thofe 
 ideas prefent in our mind which are required 
 to draw juft conclufions. We find thofe foonelt 
 which anfwer our purpofes. The cool philofo- 
 pher finds frequently that to be falfe, which he 
 took for granted before he begun his inquiries. 
 And fince all this is moll certain, how eafy muft 
 it be for us to convince ourfelves, how uncertain 
 Dur way of reafoning is, when it concerns things 
 which we earneftly defire, and when the queftion 
 is, whether we Ihall allow or refufe ourfelves 
 the enjoyment of them. A lively imprefllon, 
 which prefents us with the arguments on 
 both fides, is the only means to keep us from 
 error, 
 
 Q^ Hovf
 
 ( 226 ) 
 
 How many difagrceable 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 adled 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 conneded. Nothing was now 
 left me, but to endeavour to lefTen the uneafinefs 
 I felt, fmce 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 confequences of my vices, and the thoughts 
 that I had offended God, moft deeply affeded 
 me. 
 
 However, my former turn of thought made 
 me miftruft, whether my prefent fentiments 
 were not perhaps more a confequence of my pre- 
 sent fituation of mind, than of the convidion of 
 my underftanding. The uncertainty I was under 
 concerning tlie 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 jpiy prefent difpofitlon 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 v/as now more inclined to be cautious and 
 miflruftful, 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 beofany confequence. I examined every 
 particular argument in favour of my former 
 opinion : but at laft I was obliged to own with 
 Gellert^ that if all that we know from reafon, 
 of God, of our foul, and our moral happinels 
 was uncertain, truth muft be folly, and error 
 mufl be wifdom. 
 
 You know, my dear friend, how much thefe 
 truths increafed my uneafmefs : I faw continually 
 new objedts, which hitherto had remained undif- 
 covered, on account of the livelinefs of the firft 
 impreflfions. The indifference I had to any fixed 
 principles, my negleft of every fingle obligation, 
 rny remiffnefs 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 
 tranfgreffions mult draw upon me j all thefe cir- 
 
 0^2 cumflance*
 
 ( 228 ) 
 
 CLimftances united produced in me the greatefi: 
 anxiety. And how could I leffen the anxiety llich 
 reflexions occafioned me ? I took the refolution 
 to a6l according to that truth which I had found. 
 I had a lively fenfe of rny former tranfgrefllons, 
 but from whence could I derive the hopes of re- 
 pairing vyhat was done, or burying it in oblivion ? 
 It is uncertain whether good intentions will al- 
 ways be equally Itrong 5 perhaps new inticements 
 and the errors of my underftanding may over- 
 power them. The thought which isdirefted to- 
 wards God, the fentiments, confcience, and the 
 recolle6lion 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 fituations were 
 lofb to me, and but little comfort was left mc from 
 this view. When I reflefted on the idea which 
 reafon afforded me of God, I had but little hopes 
 to flatter myfelf that my fins would be forgiven. 
 If I attempted to form tlie moft favourable idea 
 of God's mercy, that he would confider the weak- 
 nefsandimperfeftion of human nature, Ifawat the 
 fame time his juftice and 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 lav/s God leaves the fate of man, 
 
 and
 
 ( 229 ) 
 
 and his fate depends upon himfelf, fince he a£ts 
 with liberty. Experience teaches us ftifficient^y that 
 no exception is to be made to this rule. Every 
 crime and every tranfgreflion carries its punifli- 
 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 himfclf, 
 and not according to the general notions we have 
 of good fortune. The irregularity and variety of 
 our paffions are evils, and the painful confciouf- 
 nefs of tlie 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 necefiary evils con- 
 ne6ted with our fate, which would ceafe with this 
 life, even if they could be called a kind of pu- 
 nifnment. I could diminifh the lively impreflion 
 of thefe evils by a firmnefs of foul, by coolnefs 
 of mind acquired by praclice, and a contem- 
 plation of the evils themfelves, without fancying 
 them greater than they really are. Patience, I 
 fancied, rpight make us indifferent about them, 
 and di/Tipation make us entirely forget them. 
 
 Q. 3 Sup.
 
 f 230 ) 
 
 Supported by thefe confiderations, I fubmittcd 
 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 
 falfhood. That hope which makes death the end 
 of all our misfortunes, requires the greateft firm- 
 nefs and indifference to fupport it. You know 
 thofe reafons which fcrve 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 occafioned the greateft uneafinefs, 
 even at a time vvhcn I iliould not have been diffi- 
 dent of my own Itrength. 
 
 The continuation of my moral enquiries did 
 not dccreafe this. Remembrance will be an 
 elTentidl matter, whereby my future (late is to be 
 connefted with my prcfent one. How fhould I 
 obliterate the memory of tiiefc reproaches which 
 torment me now ? how fhould 1 regulate my 
 fentiments ? Every thing renewed the confciouf- 
 nefs of my former repronches, and I was fo ac- 
 cuftomcd 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 fad j for my underftanding, 
 5 though
 
 ( 231 ) 
 
 thouoh convinced, yet thouglit, doubted, anolo- 
 crizcd, and law a poHlbility of my not being in 
 the wrong. The repeating of thole reflexions 
 wliich liad fliewn nic my errors, brouglit me 
 back to truth : liowever, I could not arrive at 
 anv certainty in regard to a future life, and the 
 confcquences of my tranlgrcllions with refped 
 to the Deity. The truths of revealed reli- 
 gion did not yet make any imprellion upon my 
 mind. 
 
 You gave me the Uillory of the three lall 
 Years of the Life of Chrill ; I read it, and how 
 excellent did I find the dodlrines it contained 1 
 Its moral prmciples are limple, clear, and 
 adapted to every fituation in lil'e. Whoever 
 knows how dilHcult it is to reduce a fcience to 
 general principle.s, cannot obferve tlfis without 
 furprize, even if he confiders Chrill only as a mere 
 man. 1 was afliimed to find here again what I 
 formerly had forgot, and afterwards believed it to 
 be owing to feveral books of niorality I had read. 
 I was convinced that the fpirit of revenge was 
 wrong, bur I k\'u\ not remember that Chrill had 
 ever forbid it. 1 he love ol our enemies had 
 never before been taught us, aiul it appeared to 
 me contradidory to ofir nature. I wilhed to be 
 convinced, not only of this chriftian duty, but 
 
 0.4 of
 
 ( 232 ) 
 
 lof all the other principles of Chrift's dodlrine. 
 Thofe objeclions which were made againfl: Chrifh 
 OH account of his birth, his education in Egypt, 
 and the inftrudion he received in the fciences 
 ^^hich were taught by the Jews, made me ima- 
 gine that his do6trine was more than human.. 
 How could he be above the prejudices of edu- 
 cation and inftrudlion ? how could he teach things 
 quite contrary to them ? There is nothing contra- 
 di6lory in his doctrines or in his a6lions. We can 
 eafily convince ourfelves of this, if we only avoid 
 judging according to our own manners, cuftoms 
 and prejudices. Not to get acquainted with the 
 Gofpel becaufe Chrifl was a Jew, is the fame in 
 reality as if one fhould objedt to read the writings 
 of Mendelfon *, becaufe. he is a Jew. The life 
 of Chrifl, publifned at Zurich, delivers the hi- 
 ftory in a modern ftile, and in an uninterrupted 
 connexion. Though the manner of writing, and 
 the exprefTions 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 ufed to read moftly 
 thofe books which were written againfl: 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
 
 ( '^ZZ ) 
 A divine revelation had appeared to me unne- 
 ceflary, its Mllorical evidence dubious, and tlie 
 fads related feemed to be very improbable. I 
 novr began to be convinced of the neceffity of a 
 divine revelation •, for many reafons, and in parti- 
 cular the neceffity of finding out ftronger motives 
 for virtue than thofc which reafon only fupply us 
 with, would no longer let me doubt of it. 
 Bonnet and Lefs proved to me the pofTibility and 
 credibility of the miracles. IVeJi might have 
 been fully fufHcient to have convinced me of the 
 fruth of Chrift's refurreiflion, but you know I 
 examined all the reft of the arguments. I be- 
 lieved many fafts which are taught in natural 
 philofophy, where I could not difcover the caufe 
 and its effedls j why did I doubt of the pofTibi- 
 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 fafls the truth of a divine reve- 
 lation is founded upon, as if I faw them before 
 me. When a number of credible witnefTes agree 
 in things in which our fenfcs are only concerned, 
 I am as much convinced of them, as if I knew 
 them from my own experience. It was neceffary 
 for me to attain the higheft degree of certainty in 
 this refpedl, in order to remove all doubts which 
 now and then perplexed my underftanding ; and 
 
 I praife
 
 ( 234 ) 
 I praife God, with a lively fenfe 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 affedion. Ufe, the nature of my em- 
 ployments, and the manner in which I rofe to my 
 former profperity, had procured me a habit of 
 afting in all circumilances with coolncfs. I found 
 I had reafon to be airprehenfive, that in one 
 point tendernefs would get the better of my un- 
 derflanding, and this was friendfliip. This only 
 made me lenfible of the fituation I was in •, for 
 neither the pofieiTion nor the lofs of my former 
 profperity affe6led me much. I was always upon 
 my guard againft my fancy, and for this very 
 reafon I avoided reading poets and other authors 
 that could inflame it. I was often doubtful 
 about my opinions and miftruiled 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 
 objcd, together with the coolnefs I a6ted v/ith, 
 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
 
 ( 235 ) 
 many proofs which I have heard and read of it, 
 had not recovered me from my error. 
 
 The examination of the hiftorical arq-uments 
 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 muft be 
 ftronger arguments to convince us, than thole 
 which mere rcafon furniflies us with. A proper 
 degree of felf-love, honour, and love of virtue, 
 are liable to To many explanations, our under- 
 ftanding can fo eafily be impofed upon, and our 
 will is with fo much difficulty reftrained, from con- 
 fidering the objeft only from the point of view in 
 which it is mofl: ao-reeabie. Nothins; can have 
 greater effeft upon our condu6l than a habit of 
 devotion, and though I thought religion always 
 ufcful for this purpofe, I neverthekfs believed, 
 that a fufficient knowledge (jf our duty, and a 
 defire of acting conformably to it, were at all 
 times fufficient motives for b^-ing virtuous. 
 
 I found the origin of religious ceremonies 
 in the natural fears arid infirmities of men ; I 
 faw how much the many revolutions which 
 have happened, have increafed them, and what 
 influence the manners, cuftoms, and v/ays 
 of thinking of nations had had upon them. 
 
 This
 
 C 2^16 ) 
 
 This confideration made me acknowledge v/ith 
 gratitude, the excellence of chriftianity, whofc 
 ceremonies are lb clear and well founded. We 
 accuilom ourfelves to thofe thinsfs which we 
 fee daily ; we perceive how they happen, but are 
 unacquainted with their remote caufcs, which, at 
 lafl", lofe all their effe6b. For this very reafon 
 the idea of the exiftence of a God, and his pro- 
 vidence over all things, is fo little difcovcrable in 
 our a6tions. Our internal fenfations, confci- 
 ence, and the contemplation of nature, feklom 
 carry us fo far back as to make any alteration in 
 our moral conduit. The v/ill of God, in regard 
 ro our happinefs, remains doubtful to our rea- 
 fon, as long as it is left to the decifion of our 
 underilanding. The various revelations in the 
 Old Teftamcnt, prophecies, laws, and remark- 
 able punifhments, could be looked upon as im- 
 poftures of men, and as things which arofe from 
 natural caufes : but fince Chrift has come into 
 the world, and told us that his doftrine was the 
 will of God, and that he was fent to inftrudl? us, 
 and that he himfelf v/as the true God i no further 
 excufe remains for our ignorance and error. 
 Every one to whom the opportunity is offered, 
 and who m\\ accept of it, can eafily convince 
 himfelf of its truth. 
 
 An
 
 ( 237 ) 
 An unexceptionable evidence is as certain as 
 QiU* own experience, and whoever wants the latter 
 tellimony, 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 cufloms. The wonders by which 
 Chrift has confirmed his divine miOion can be 
 proved wi.h the fax.e certainty. They were 
 performed v.ithout any preparations, without 
 any circumftances that might have impofed upon 
 the fenfes, without any previous expeftation, be- 
 fore a number of incredulous fp-ftators, in fuch a 
 manner that no impofition can pofnbly be fuf- 
 pefled. They were befides of fuch a nature that 
 every man of common underilanding might per- 
 ceive, that thofe means which were made ufc of 
 never could produce fuch effecfts. A man, born 
 blind, recovered his fight; one that had lain 
 four days in the grave, came to life again ; a pa- 
 ralytic was reftorcd to health again \ — and all this 
 by only fpeaking a word. If we were to fup- 
 pofe that in the regular courfe of nature fuch a 
 thing was to happen jufl: at this time, or that God 
 produced thcfe events by the intcrpofition of 
 almighty power, it follows, in the firft inftancc, 
 that Chrift muft: have been informed of it before; 
 I and.
 
 ( 238 )* 
 and, in the fccond, that God heard him. Both 
 which are 'equally a miracle, and a proof of his 
 divine milTion. 
 
 As foon as I was convinced of this •, nothing 
 remained, but to examine whether the do6trine 
 which he preached, and v.'e 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 pafTions -, to love God 
 above all things, and to deal with my neighbour 
 as I willi to be dealt with myfelf. He enjoins 
 me to believe that there is another life after this, 
 where the condition I fliall be in will depend on 
 the fentiments and aftions of this prefent life ; 
 that without the afTiftance of God I am unable 
 either to think or aft 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 mod undoubted afilirance 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 furefl way of becoming accept- 
 able to the Supreme Being. — All this is very 
 confiftent with reafon. 
 
 But
 
 ( 239 ) 
 
 » 
 
 But Chrifl: commanded me bcfides, to believe 
 that he was veiy 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 contradift all my notions which I hitherto had 
 entertained. But I knew that the v/ord of Chrid 
 was always truth, that he mull: be fully ac- 
 quainted with thefe myfleries, and that I had not 
 the leaft reafon to imagine, he would require of 
 me to believe any thing that was contradiftory to 
 reafon. It might be above my underfcanding; 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 fo, 
 and how they are connected "with their caufcs ? 
 1 thought mylelf obliged to believe thefe myfle- 
 ries upon the word of Chrift; nevertheleiefs I con- 
 fidered them v/ith great attention, without find- 
 ing them contradidory. 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 chofe 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 tlirough Chrifl:, was the fame who 
 made himfelf known to us as Father and Holy 
 Ghofl. It cannot be denied that God, when we 
 confider his nature as well as his attributes, could 
 
 not
 
 ( 240 ) 
 
 not be able to produce various cfFe6ls 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 
 knov/n to us, fince we ourfelves could not per-' 
 ceive it by our fenles. We are ufed to apply 
 more common notions to lefs known objects, in 
 order to explain more exaclly 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, notwithftanding that 
 I have refiedled upon this fubjefl with great ac- 
 curacy, and in more different views than I have 
 done here. In the fame manner I have found 
 nothing contradictory in Chriil's making known 
 unto us God as Father and Holy Ghoft. 
 
 How eaffly can we fail into errors if any one' 
 wants to give us an idea of a thing unknown to 
 us, by comparing it with anotlier we are ac-^ 
 quainted with. I dare not apply, in fuch cales, 
 every little idea annexed to the objedt, 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 fomctimes as hard as (lone, and he fiiould 
 then think that ice might be made red hot, and 
 be ufed for materials to build a hoiife, he would 
 think fomething very abfurd. Chrift has fhewn 
 us God under the charader of a Father, in order 
 to compare his love towards his fon under a 
 figure that was known to us. A philofophical 
 defcription 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 fhould be 
 liable to the fame miftake of the Indian. " In 
 the fame manner we can conceive how Chrift, the 
 Son of God, Vv^as born from his Father. From all 
 eternity God would make himfelf knov/n to us by 
 Chrift, and the word, beget, conveyed to us the 
 beft idea of this myfterious tranfadion 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 
 eflence 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. 
 
 I.aftly, Chrift promifes, that after his depar- 
 ture, the fpirit of God ftiould confirm thefe 
 truths which he had taup-ht. This was done in 
 
 R a vifible
 
 ( 242 ) 
 
 a vlfible manner by thofe gifts which the Apofllea 
 received, and he continues to operate upon thofe 
 who obferve the doftrines of Chrift, and, by fo 
 doing, are capable of making good refolutions, 
 and of thinking and of adling 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 tife of 
 in the dodrine of theTrinity. If I now find a con- 
 tradi£lion, 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 dodrine of the Trinity, I fhould a»5t 
 like the Indian who would not believe the exift- 
 ence of ice, becaufe he was told that it would 
 meit and turn into water again in the fummcr and 
 by the fire. 
 
 I refied on Chrifl's redemption, to which my 
 underftanding has no objeflion. I am convinced 
 how neceflary it is for my happinefs to know, that 
 my actions are not indifferent to God : and now 
 I am afTiired, with all hiftorical certainty, that 
 
 Chrift
 
 ( M3 ) 
 Chrift lived, and was proved to be Intimately 
 conne6led with the Deity, by performino- fuch 
 aftions as cannot be explained by natural caufes. He 
 afllires me of his friendHiip, 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, v/here 
 his former tranfaflions have convinced me that 
 his knowledge is fuperior to mine, if my under- 
 flanding 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 dodrines he inculcates agree with thofe 
 which my own reafon teaches to be neceflary for 
 my happinefs -, and I was fenfible how eafily I 
 could mifapply thefe doflrines, if I did not al- 
 ways remember, that God faw my adlions. What- 
 ever determined me formerly to ad in fuch a 
 manner as my own happinefs required, I owed to 
 other caufes and intentions, and why (hould I not 
 have interpreted the adions and kindnefs of 
 Chrift in the fame manner ? He recalls to my 
 memory whatever I know from political and na- 
 tural hiftory, and exprefly alTures me that extra- 
 ordinary events were defigned for this purpoie. 
 He fums up all thefe together in this fingle pro- 
 poGtion : God loves man as a father. Now God 
 
 R 2 ihews
 
 ( 244 ) 
 fhews himfelf as a friend. Chrifl: is defpifed and 
 looked upon as an impoftor, though he teaches 
 nothing but the manner in which we may become 
 happy, and performs a<5lions which are beneficial 
 to men. To convince me more fully of his fm- 
 cerity, he gives me the grcatefl 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 connefted, 
 permits all this. Can I now ever doubt that 
 God's providence extends to me ? I know from 
 reafon that the regularity in my condud muft be 
 pleafing to God, and that it is impofTible for me 
 to ad agreeably to it, if I had not a lively idea of 
 God's omniprefence. I know him now in the 
 charader 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 fliould not be able to per- 
 form my duty. The more I refiea: 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 neglecT:ed, 
 
 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. Chrift 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 pafTed, however I know how foon a pre- 
 fent idea effaces a former one : and this is the 
 cafe when I ftrongly defire what I fliould deny 
 myfclf. The doftrine of Chrift informs me of 
 this likewife. The fpirit of God will revive thefc 
 doftrines within me, if I make myfelf well ac- 
 quainted with them, and conftantly endeavour 
 to put them into pradtice. 
 
 There- is nothing in my reafon that could pre- 
 vent me from being fully convinced, that thefe 
 means Chrift teaches me, arc 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 thole regu- 
 lations he has made in regard to future life. I 
 muft feel the bad confequences of my negle(fl, 
 and of the vain hopes which I placed in God's 
 mercy. I am obliged to him that he has made 
 himfclf known to me in fo extraordinary a man- 
 ner. I could not even expect to deferve the 
 
 R 3 happy
 
 ( 246 ) 
 happy confequences of the refolution I had 
 made of obeying Chriil's precepts ; fmce, with- 
 out the perpetual afiiftance of the Spirit of God, 
 I am unable to obey them, and fmce, notwith- 
 ilanding this affiftance, I fo frequently negledt 
 and forget them. 
 
 This is entirely con fiflent with the dodrine of 
 Chrifl. I always^-bdieve 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 durll not hope, con- 
 fidering God and myfelf, that this Supremq 
 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 it, 
 and Ihail never defift to adore and praife the 
 mercy, fhewn to me through Chrift. 
 
 I was greatly affected when I read the life of 
 Chrifl. It increafed my pains, and gave me 
 new ones. But I was afraid it was owing to my 
 difpofition 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 no( find thofe inward 
 
 feelings.
 
 ( 247 ) 
 feelings, which, as I had heard, were connec- 
 ted with true chriftianity, according to the 
 confufed 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 v/hich are become a fecond nature, 
 though I was convinced that they were falfe and 
 deftrudtive. My doubts arofe contrary to my 
 wifhes, and I did not pafs them over before I 
 had examined them leparately, and had fre- 
 quently rcflefted on the arguments for the truth 
 of religion. 
 
 The application of its dodrines produced with- 
 in me a lively repentance, forrow, fhame, and 
 fentiments of humility. Without anxiety or 
 fear I expeded 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 fliewn to me by the 
 redemption of Chrifl:, made me overcome thofe 
 difficulties I found arofe from my natural dif- 
 pcfition. The pleafure of finding a happinefs, 
 which I hitherto had wilful! 7 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 impofTible
 
 C 24S ) 
 
 impoHible to make myfelf perfe(5tly 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 miay do it, and I am perfuaded he will, 
 fmce Chrift has promifed it. Prayer takes away 
 the uneafinefs I have on this and other points, 
 which are difagreeable for me to remember. I 
 diredPc my thoughts to God, repeat the doc- 
 trines of the Gofpel, refledt 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 
 affiftance ot God. No blind confidence in 
 God's mercy, nor the hope of the happinefs of 
 
 5 ^
 
 ( 249 ) 
 a future life,' Inflame his imagination, which 
 resulates itfelf after the dirpofition the mind is 
 in. Bonnet and Lavater conduced me gra- 
 dually to hopeful profpeds of eternity, but I 
 rather perufe the writings of Spalding, Albertiy 
 and others of this kind. 
 
 The remembrance how indefatigable I had been 
 for many years together, in collecfling and pradifing 
 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 I wilh to efface the imprelTion 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, v/hich 
 I mufb be afhamed to own even before a world 
 that thinks as 1 did formerly •, and I feel on this 
 account, a more lively fenfe of thofe tranfgref- 
 lions which I have committed againll God. My 
 fenfe of friendlhip and humanity always re- 
 calls to my mind the bad example, and the 
 fedu(5lion 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 
 andi a fear that deprives us of tlie ufc of reafon, 
 
 I always
 
 ( 250 ) 
 
 I always have been almoft a flranger. Death was 
 not terrible to me, fince I looked upon it as acon- 
 feqiience of natural caufes, and a fate that is un- 
 avoidable. At prefent nothing appears dread- 
 ful to me, fince I know that I depend upon 
 God, and am convinced of the truth of reli- 
 gion, and exped a happy eternity, 
 
 I praife God fincerely, that I arrived at this 
 convidion, 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 effed upon me. Suppofe 
 you had endeavoured to en flame my imagination 
 and palTions, my principles would foon have com- 
 pofed them again. The doftrines of religion I 
 always remembered j for in the earlier days of 
 my life I had frequently read the Bible, though 
 wich ideas quite different from thofe 1 entertain 
 at prefent. Sciipture expreffions were familiar 
 to me, and I afterwards had contra(5led habits to 
 connc<5l them with all the dcubts and opinions 
 which correfponded with my principles. Before 
 my underftanding was convinced that they were 
 falfe, you could not exped that I fhould 
 fincerely believe the truth of revelation. I foon 
 
 difcovered
 
 ( 251 ) 
 
 difcovered my tranfgrefTion of moral duties -, 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 defire of 
 being as happy in this world as pofTible, had 
 taught me to defpife every kind of danger, and 
 this arofe more from a cool refiedion 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 adions 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 affeded, and this alone 
 could put my mind in agitation. However, it 
 could not have dilpofed 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 
 wilhed for, and what I thought I durft 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 inllru(5tion can 
 1 be
 
 ( 252 ) 
 
 be cfTedled only by fenfible reprefentations, but I 
 ufed them afterwards for raifihg doubts againft 
 religion ^ and this prevented me from expelling 
 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 to me unanfwerable. When on 
 the other hand I refleded on the redemption of 
 Chrift, it feemed to contradid all my notions. 
 To Ihew to man the love and juftice of God in a 
 ftronger light, redemption is commonly repre- 
 fented thus : That God was angry on account of 
 the fms of men, but loved them to fuch a degree 
 that he was defirous of pardoning them. But 
 this could not be effed-ed 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 refied 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 pradlical chriftianity, it always has offen- 
 ded me to find fo many whofe fentiments and aifti- 
 ons fo little correfponded to their pretended faith, 
 and fenfe of truth. I difcovered the effeds 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 impoflure, 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- 
 je(5t, 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 moft necefTary 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 tliink befl:. 
 
 April i\\G. 23d, 1772. 
 
 STRUENSEE.
 
 THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 O F 
 
 Count Enevold Brandt, 
 
 During the Time of his Imprisonment 
 until his D £ A T H. 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 
 The Reverend D. HEE.
 
 yl D V E R riS E ME NT. 
 
 The pubic may rely on the authenticity of the 
 following account. It is beyond a doubt that D. Hee 
 drew it up., and pv.hlif:ed it himfelf for reafons 
 ivhich he mentions in the coiirfe of his narration. 
 If the do5for fljould not anfwer the expcolations we 
 might have of him as a writer ^ the tranflator hopes ^ 
 that his character as an honefl man, and as a well- 
 weaning divine, together with the fuhjeit of the 
 narrative, will make foine mn ends for it.
 

 
 THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 O F 
 
 Count Enevold Brandt, &Ce 
 
 'T^HE fentiments and the condud of the un- 
 -*• happy Count Brandt, during the time of 
 his imprifonment, v/ere 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 
 converfing with him, in the latter part of his 
 life, and who have fmcerity 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 art 
 
 S con-
 
 ( 25S ) 
 converted, ftrengthen thy brethren.' He jfliewed 
 hiinfelf in this charader to all the ofiicers that 
 had the watch over him. 
 
 Since he was made prifoner of flate, and 
 even now after his death, many unjuft, and, 
 God knows, very untrue reports have been 
 fpread, as if his repentance had been hypocrify, 
 and his fortitude and chearfulnefs when he died, 
 temerity and prefumption. I have always con- 
 tradidled 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, fmce I believe that the 
 greatefl part of what has been laid, has pro- 
 ceeded from a zeal to promote the caufe of 
 infidelity. Tliere 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- 
 oinnins, but which he owned and fo much re- 
 pented of afterwards. I (hail not apologize 
 for what might have happened before I came, 
 
 nor
 
 C 259 ) 
 
 nor for thit ■which was vifible even in the be- 
 ginning of my vifiting him ; I rather Ihall praifc 
 the mercy of God, which has Ihown its power 
 fo furprizingly afterwards, and confirmed what 
 the Apodle fays : ' Where fin abounded, grace 
 did much more abound.* 
 
 Count Brandt received the befi: 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, and afiured 
 me that he very often had felt the power of the 
 converting grace of God within his foul. He 
 recolledted 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 fall v/hich thou hall, that 
 no man take thy crown.* 
 
 On the 23d of February, the Right Re- 
 verend the Bifhop Harboe fent me ,the King's 
 own orders, whereby I was defired to vifit 
 
 S 2 Count
 
 ( iSo ) 
 
 Count Brandt, who was prifoner in the caftle *. 
 I was not over-pleafed with this charge, knowino- 
 too well the fentiments and the former life of 
 the Count. He had been the greateft volup- 
 tuary, and a friend to all thole 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 aflced him, how he could 
 fupport himfelf in his diftrefled condition ? He 
 laid, *' His mind was very much compofed 
 and calm-," 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 a{ked Count Brandt: If he defired to converfe 
 with a divine? His anfvver was, he had no objeftion to it, 
 but he Ihould 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.
 
 f 261 ) 
 
 fort. PTe 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 ferry, fince he 
 wanted what was moft neceflary, and v^hat could 
 be moft ufeful to him both at prefent and in 
 futurity. 
 
 " He then afllired me that he never had been 
 entirely without religion, though he muft own 
 that he did not fpeak always with due refpedl 
 of it." 
 
 Finding that he had no intention to con- 
 ceal his former way of thinking, I therefore 
 afked him, if he ihould 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 what 
 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 fcveral doubts about religion. I 
 
 S 3 told
 
 ( 262 ) 
 
 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 raile 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 obftrudl 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 fhewing himfelf witty." 
 
 When I exhorted him, fince he faw himfelf 
 how badly he had afted, and into what miiery 
 he by his contempt of religion had thrown him- 
 felf, to mind now the time which was left him, 
 and to look out for the falvation of his Ibul, 
 he feemed to be greatly moved : particularly 
 v/hen I put him in mind of that good education 
 he had enjoyed in the houfe of his parents, who 
 took all pOiTible care to prevent the ruin of his 
 foul. Whei 1 reprefented to hirn the tears of 
 his pious mothct, on account of the unhappy 
 
 condition
 
 ( z^3 ) 
 condition he was in, and the dangerous fituation 
 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 fhould be glad to fee me at any- 
 time." 
 
 I left him with good hopes, and heard foon 
 after of theeffefts of my vifit-, 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 cadle by the officer 
 who had the watch, he not only had been very 
 quiet, but had alfo burft 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 eafeJ 
 his mind by his tears, his levity appeared again, 
 for he fans; an air afterwards. This, however, did 
 not difcourage miC, nor abate my hojes. 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 fe- 
 veral religious fubjecfls. I exhorted him to make 
 the befl ufe of his time, and to turn his thoughts 
 towards God; and for this very reafon I flrongly 
 
 S 4 recon>
 
 ( 264 ) 
 recommended prayer to him. I afTured him that 
 I had prayed fervently to God that he might fave 
 his foul, and I fliould continue doing the fame. 
 He thanked me for this, and acknowledged, 
 that the compaffion for him which I had Ihewn 
 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 effecl upon him, for he very feldom, 
 when I v/as 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 muft 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 perfon 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 faw him, I very ear- 
 neftly fpoke to him about this report, and ap- 
 pealed 
 5
 
 ( 265 ) 
 pealed to his own confcience, whether he had been 
 guilty of fuch a thing or not. He feemed to be 
 afFc(5led on the occafion, and declared " He was 
 not forry on account of what the people faid ; 
 it grieved him rather that I myfelf Ihould enter- 
 tain fuch thoughts of him." I alTured him it 
 was no pleaflire to me to entertain them, but my 
 confcience obliged me to admonifh him concern- 
 ing this report, that I might fpare myfelf any 
 future uneafmefs about it. However, he owned, 
 " That it was poffible fiicb words might have 
 efcaped him, on account of the levity of his 
 heart, but he hinted, that fome perfon or 
 other, that wanted to bring fuch reports among 
 the people, had given him an occafion for it, of 
 which he made ufe, whilft his heart was not 
 upon its guard." — 1 exhorted him to beg God to 
 forgive him this tranfgreiTion, and to be watchful 
 over himfelf, that if opportunities fnould offer 
 themfelves of committing fuch an aftion again, 
 he might refiil in time : that he had better give 
 no anfwer at all to things which might induce 
 him to exert his vanity, but rather fhev/ himfelf a 
 penitent fimicr, 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 (hew himfelf as a reli- 
 gious man before others, but lie Ihould follow 
 
 my
 
 ( 206 ) 
 
 my advice, and give no anfwer to things that 
 could difhonoLir hiaifelf 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 airid 
 him in this feif examination. 
 
 I could eafily imagine, that in my abfence, 
 when he had nothing to entertain himlelf 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 
 ]um the tranflation of Gibfon's Padoral Letters, 
 for I thought this book might be ufeful to him 
 en account of the Iblid 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- 
 feffion, the 53d Ci'iapter of the prophet Ila.iah, 
 and the 13th of St. Luke had made a great im- 
 
 prcfTion
 
 ( 26; ) 
 
 prefTion upon him. He read fome Pfalms of 
 David to me, and defired me to ejcplain feveral 
 pafTages which he did not quite underftand. I did 
 it, and he Teemed 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 ftart fome objedions, but I can- 
 not fay that they ever fhewed any levity of heart, 
 or the lead of malice, but rather tended to a de- 
 fire of better information. — He begged of me to 
 bring hiin Hervefs Meditations^ and Newton on 
 Prophecies, as the latter is iranflated into Danifh 
 by Commodore EfTura. 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 condud in my abfcnce 
 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 feniiments of his heart, which began to 
 be averfe to worldly things. Eefides, I enquired 
 of the hcneft and venerable commander of the 
 
 caftle.
 
 I 26S ) 
 
 callle, if any one of the officers that guarded him, 
 and who were to give an account of him every 
 morning, had mentioned {iny thing to this pur- 
 pofe ? He afilired me it was all falic, and that the 
 Count, fince I had brought him thefe books, 
 had amufed himfelf with them, and that he 
 fcarcely 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 quef- 
 tions laid before him, but that he even confefTed 
 more than he was requefled to do. The com- 
 mander added, that if any thing indecent had 
 happened, he would have informed me of it. 
 I v/as pleafed to hear this, and I v/as flill more fo, 
 fmce every one of the officers that had been upon 
 watch affured 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 happijiefs he enjoyed, and was indebted for 
 it to religion. He affijred them, that during his 
 
 profperity.
 
 ( 269 ) 
 
 profperity, and in the enjoyment of all luftful 
 pleafures, he felt no real fatisfadtion of mind. 
 
 I was flill more convinced of the falfity of 
 thefe reports, fince fome things were faid to 
 have happened whilfc I was with him, which 
 I knew were not true. It was faid, for in- 
 ftance, that when I v/as once with him, I, ac- 
 cording to cufliom, had found him very devout; 
 but when I had left the prifon, 1 had liilened at the 
 door, which was bolted, and hearing from vi^ithin 
 fome things which betrayed his levity, I had re- 
 turned to him again, and reproached, him on 
 account of his conduft. This report, which, in 
 fome refpedts, 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 profefTing his former prin- 
 ciples. The Count himfelf hinted to me, that a 
 certain perfon, whom he named, had propagated 
 the moft wicked and low exprelTions, which he 
 was faid to have dropped on account of his ap- 
 proaching death and execution. This fame man, 
 or fomebody elle like him, has given out, that I 
 had denied giving the facrament to the Count, 
 becaufe his lieart was fo hardened. IIow great 
 
 an
 
 C 270 ) 
 
 an untruth this is, the remainder of my narrative 
 will lliew. 
 
 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 
 courfc. 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 j 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 dfeiftical 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 v/as very forry 
 for all this, but was much pleafed that he had 
 found a tafte for the true word of God, whofe 
 I efficacy
 
 ( 271 ) 
 
 efficacy upon ^ his heart, fince he read It with 
 sood intentions, convinced him of its divine 
 origin. 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- 
 fefiion, never had any imprefilon or feelings of it. 
 As to himlelf, he affured me, that though he 
 had been far from being virtuous, yet he always 
 entertained a fecret reverence for reli'^ion, and 
 had fpcken feveral 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 fhould thus have led 
 the blind : I therefore anfwered nothing, thinking 
 it might perhaps be his felf-conceit that made him 
 fpeak io^ 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 fupport an 
 untruth by defending what he had told me. But 
 I found afcerv/ards 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 v/as to be communi- 
 cated to Count Brandt. The commander of the 
 caftle told me this mefTage of 1). Munter, and 
 my aniwer was, tliat I was ready to call upon 
 Struenfee, if he (the commander) and D. Mun- 
 ter would be prefent. My rcqueft was granted, 
 
 and
 
 C 272 ) 
 ai!d I came to Struenlee, who received me very 
 civilly, and gave me a long account of his for- 
 mer bad principles, (which, in fliort, were 
 nothing elfe but iiiere materialifmus and mecha- 
 nifmiis, according to the fvftem of ^^ la Met trie *) 
 and told me, laftly, what I was to tell Count 
 Brandt. The contents of the mefiage 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, Vv'hich, he hoped, would 
 be agreeable to him. He added, which I fhall 
 mention in his own words, 
 
 " I confefs that Brandt has fpoken frequently 
 to me about religion, but I always defired him 
 to keep filence on this head." By this I found, 
 that what Brandt had told me concerning Stru- 
 enfee was true -f. I brought the meffage I was 
 charged with by Struenlee direftiy to Brandt. 
 He rejoiced inwardly on account of this news, 
 
 * De la Mettrie died at Berlin in 175 1. Kis famous book, 
 
 Vhomme Machine^ makes man a mere machine, and his foul 
 an infignificant word. The powers of the foul he thinks to 
 be nothing elfe but an unknown motion of the brain. His 
 Traite de la njie heureufe, contains the confequences of this 
 fyftem. He denies the immortality of the foul, laughs at 
 all religion, and places all human happinefs in the enjoy- 
 ment of fcnfual pleafurc-s. 
 
 f See the foregoing Hiftory of the ConverfiOn of Count 
 Struenfee, p. 79, 83. 
 
 defired
 
 ( ^n ) 
 
 de fired me to^o to Strnenfee again, and tell him 
 that it gave him great pleafurc to hear that he 
 had embraced truth, and that he begged of him 
 to adhere to it to the laft. He added : " Tell 
 Struenfee, on my part, that my own experience 
 has nbw taught me, that true eafe of mind is no 
 where to be found, but in Chrift crucified." — I 
 carried this mefiage back again to Struenfee, who 
 feemed to be much pleafed at it. 
 
 As I kept no journal of the fubjedbs of 
 our many conferences, I Ihall not attempt a cir- 
 cumftannal detail of them. I had never an in- 
 tention of pubhfhing this, if the aforementioned 
 reports had not forced me to it. 
 
 The Count would frequently mention howun-i 
 
 happy his former condition had been -, how great 
 
 reafon he had to praife God's mercy that had 
 
 faved his life at feveral times in moft imminent 
 
 dangers, that he might not perilh for ever. He 
 
 mentioned in particular one inftance, when he, 
 
 laft fummer, was thrown from his horfe, taken 
 
 lip for dead, and laid four and twenty hours 
 
 fpeechlefs. *' Confider, faid he, where my poor 
 
 foul would have gone to, if death Iiad fnatched 
 
 me away in the condition I was then in, for I was 
 
 dead in fins-, but God fpared me that I might 
 
 come into this condition, and that my foul may 
 
 be faved, 
 
 T 1 ex-
 
 ( 274 ) 
 I exhorted him to pray fleqnently : He 
 faid, he did it very often, and looked upon it 
 as a great mercy of God that he now confidere'd 
 it as his duty to pray : but, he faid, he muft 
 complain that his heart was often very cold, 
 though he repented of his former way of life, 
 and hoped for mercy upon no other foundation 
 than Chrifl's redemption. When I had com- 
 forted him in a manner I thought proper, he 
 then told me, that he, one evening, after a fer- 
 vent prayer, had found a great eafe of mind and 
 comfort. 
 
 Towards the end of his life he declared, that 
 during the timt^ I had attended him, he had 
 three different impediments to conquer, which 
 he, at lad, through the affiftance of Chrift, 
 overcame. The firfl v/as, that it was hard for 
 him to confefs that he really was fo great a Cmncr 
 us he afterwards did. The fecond was, to follow 
 my advice, and to own before thofe that were 
 about him the alteration of his fentiments. The 
 third v/as'of fuch a nature, that I dare not men^ 
 tion it, though it concerned his foul. — I found 
 that thefe vidories which he had gained over 
 himfelf were not imaginary, but real ones : for 
 he now was ready to open his heart, and to pour 
 out what hitherto had lain concealed in it. He 
 
 fpoke
 
 ( 2/5 ) 
 
 fpoke without fear of his approaching death, 
 and praifed the imvard afTurance he enjoyed of 
 being pardoned before God, and of which mercy 
 he acknowledged himfelf to be unworthy. 
 " What have I deferved before God, faid he, but 
 his eternal wrath ?" 
 
 The time when his fentence was to be given 
 now drew near, but he appeared to be quite 
 calm, for he was confident of the honefty of his 
 judges, and that they would a<5l no otherwife 
 than according to law and confcience. I fnewed 
 him that he was very right in this refpeft, and 
 that it was a proof of a Providence, that his judges 
 were all fuch men, v/hofc knowledge of the- law, 
 and integrity of confcience, would not permit 
 them to deviate the leaft from jiiftice, and that he 
 might be afifured, his fentence would be entirely 
 agreeable to the tenor of the law. As much as he 
 feemed to be refigned to his fate, yet it appeared 
 to me as if he dill entertained fome hopes of faving 
 his life. ^ Perhaps this was owing to the common 
 rumour, that Count Brandt would come off with- 
 out lofing his life, v/hich fomebody had told him, 
 and thereby revived the thought of efcaping the 
 fcaffold. About four or five weeks before this, 
 he was fo full of the hopes of a pardon, that he 
 felt a paroxyfm of his former levity and ambition, 
 
 T 2 which
 
 ( '^1^ ) 
 
 which made him defire of the rojal commifTion to 
 have his fetters taken off in a folemn manner, and 
 to propofe to them fome other ftrange requefhs. 
 He himfelf, when I once took my leave of him, 
 told me about it, and I did not chufe to give him a 
 direft anfvver, becaufel looked upon it as an attack 
 of his form.er levity and precipitation. However, 
 when I came again, I reminded him of what he 
 had told me, and afl<:ed him, how he could enter- 
 tain any fuch thought, which betrayed lb much 
 of his attachment to the world ? I defired him to 
 give this up entirely, Ilnce he, in his prefent 
 fituation, fhuuld endeavour to difcnp;ao;e himfelf 
 from all worldly things. He took this advice 
 not at all amifs, but ownedy that the thought he 
 had entertained v/as produced by his levity, to 
 which fault he was lb much addifted, that he 
 believed there were not ten people in the world 
 equally fo with hrmfelf. I looked upon this con- 
 fefiion, and the manner in which he took what I 
 had faid, as a proof of the fincerity of his heart 
 and his repentance, I told him likewife, on this 
 occalion, how little foundation he had for enter- 
 taining any hopes of faving his life ; that his 
 crimes v.'ere then indeed not publicly known, but 
 that there v/as a public rumor in what they con- 
 fided ; and in cafe, faid I, you fnould lave your 
 life, the greateft mercy that could be ihev/n to 
 
 you.
 
 ( 2/7 ) 
 yon, would be the changing of your dead war- 
 rant into imprifonment for life; and I defiredhim 
 to confider which he fhould prefer. He anfwered, 
 " That if God fliould forefee that, in cafe his life 
 v/as faved, he fhould be carried away again by 
 vanity and fin, he would pray of him not to 
 fpare his life, but rather let him die ; for it 
 would be infinitely better for him to enter into 
 a happy eternity and to be with Chrifl:, than to 
 become again a (lave of fin, and to lofe in this 
 manner everlafting happinefs." He repeated this 
 declaration, at the very time when heexpeded his 
 fentence, in fuch exprefllons which proved that 
 the victory of grace and of faith was now become 
 greater than befarc ; for he faid, his prayers were 
 now always after the manner in which Chrifl: 
 prayed ; " Not my will, but thine be done." 
 " In cafe, faid he, it cannot be otherwife, and I 
 cannot e.Q:ape death, I leave this world fully 
 perfuaded that this is the will of God, who {cts 
 that I might be carried away again by the world, 
 and, therefore, in mercy to me will prevent this." 
 
 I went to him on the 24th of April, the day 
 v.'hen he was to receive his fentence. I found 
 him lying upon his bed, and more thoughtful 
 than common •, but he got up directly, and I 
 l^egan to fpeak to hiin in a comforting manner, 
 
 T 3 that;
 
 r 278 ) 
 
 that he had no reafon to be fearful of his fen- 
 tence in this world, fince he knew his iudo-ment 
 in that which is to come, namely, a full pardon 
 before God through Chrift his Redeemer. He 
 then, after fome further converfation, promifed 
 that he would make himfelf eafv and wait com- 
 pofedly for the v/iil of God. 
 
 I heard the next day that fentence was not 
 only given, but that it was alfo believed that 
 the King would entirely confirm it. I therefore 
 went to him, and found him, though he was 
 fully informed of the manner of his death, as 
 compofed and calm as I had left him. I fpoke 
 feveral things that could afford him comfort, 
 and he heard all that I faid with pleafure, and 
 afked me afterwards whether I had read his 
 fentence .? I told him, I had not, and knew no 
 more of it than what the common report was. 
 Fie then took a copy of the fentence out of 
 the drawer of a table which ftood- next to him. 
 When I had read it, I faid many things to comr 
 fort him ; and he feemed quite compofed ; 
 and as he now had given over all hopes of faving 
 his life, he refigned himfelf entirely to his fate, 
 and feemed to be fo full of his future happinef^ 
 that I cculd not help admiring hi 5 peace of 
 mind, which God had granted to him whofe 
 
 fins
 
 ( ^79 ) 
 fins had been Co great. He himfelf was fenfible 
 of this, for he derived from this grace of God, 
 not only his tranquillity of mind but even his 
 health. For when he enjoyed his liberty, he 
 frequently was not well, but during the long 
 time of his imprilbnment, though he could 
 fcarcely ftir or move, he had a good 
 appetite, and flept well. He aflced me then 
 what day his execution would take place, for 
 he had heard that it was fixed for Thurfday the 
 30th of April. I told him that I was in this 
 refpeft as uninformed as he himfelf was ; and 
 the time of his departure mud be equally 
 the fame to him, if he only knew he was 
 ready. 
 
 The following day, which was Sunday, April 
 the 26th, I received, jult when I came from 
 church, a letter from Bifliop Harboe, v/herein I 
 was acquainted v/ith the King's pleafure, that 
 both the ilate-pri Toners fhould be executed 
 on Tuefday next, April the 28th, and that 
 I was accordingly to regulate my affairs 
 in regard to Count Brandt. This news 
 put my mind into a great emotion : I 
 haftened foon to the poor Count. When I 
 came to the caftle, I enquired of the com- 
 mander, whether Brandt knew that his end was 
 
 T 4 fo
 
 ( 2S0 ) 
 
 i'o near. He anfwered, he did not, and he 
 iriinielf knew nothing of it, but thought he 
 fnould receive orders for it that very evening ; 
 which was the cafe. I therefore myfelf 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 bell of his time fince it 
 -was fo fhort. He guefled from what I faid 
 thut I knev/ the time of his execution, and aflced 
 when it was to be ? I told hirn it was the day 
 after to-morrow, when he fliould 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 v/hich I took my leave. 
 
 I 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 not. 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 witneiTes^ what his real 
 fentiments were. He readily complied with 
 the propofal, and I went to the commander of 
 
 the
 
 ( 28l ) 
 
 the caftle, wlio came with four gentlemen of-, 
 ficers more, in whofe prefence he declared, that 
 he was ready to die and was not afj-aid of it j he 
 likewife confeffed before the All-knowing God, 
 that he without hypocrify had fought for God's 
 jnercy ; he likewife confeffed, as he had done 
 before, that he had a«5led 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 fhould 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 lie was now afliam.ed 
 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 wilhed 
 that thofe gentlemen that were prefent would 
 bear teftimony to what he fliould fay. He 
 then acknowledged himfclf 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 forgive 
 him, if by his levity he had offended any one of 
 them, and wiflied that God's mercy in Chrift 
 might always attend them as the greatcft blei- 
 ling. He fpoke all this with fucli a readiness 
 
 and
 
 ( 282 ) 
 
 and in Co moving terms, that all who ivere 
 prefent were afFefted by it, and every one of 
 them wiOied that God would preferve him in 
 tliis fitLiation of mind to the laft. When 
 the gentlemen were gone, I adminidered the 
 facram.ent to him, and he appeared as penitent 
 and as devout as I have at any time feen any 
 chriftian whatever. When I approached to 
 aive him the facrament, he turned in the chair 
 as if he would face me, and I, thinking he 
 meant only to make it more commodious to 
 me to give it him, defired him to fit ftill -, 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 
 affeded. 
 
 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.
 
 ( ^S3 ) 
 o'clock. I affced him directly how he did, and 
 how he had refted that night. He faid, " He 
 was very well, and had refted well." I anfwered, 
 I was glad to hear it, for if the body had had its 
 reft", 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 expreiTions a humble and penitent 
 fmner, but at the fame time one v/ho entertains 
 the fured hopes of being pardoned before God. 
 He prayed for the church of Chrift, for the 
 King and the nation, for all that were mifled 
 by error and irreligion. Lailly, he prayed to 
 God to forgive him all that whereby he had 
 offended others, and expreffed how readily he for- 
 save thofe that were his enemies. He thanked 
 ^ God for all the mercies he had fhewn 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 fee how great his prefence 
 of mind was when he was juft 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 
 trefpalTes, as we forgive them that trefpafs 
 
 againft
 
 ( 284 ) 
 Qgainfl: us,* He added : " Thou O God and 
 my Redeemer, who knowefl: my own heart and 
 that of all men, thou knowefb how free my 
 heart is from all hatred and malice againft any 
 perfon whatever, and that I wifli well to every 
 body in this and the future world." 
 
 When he had finiflied his prayers, his chains, 
 v.'hich were fixed in the wall, were taken off, and 
 he put thofe clothes on in which he intended to 
 appear on the fcaffold. He then drank a difli 
 of coffee and eat fomething, walking up and 
 down in the room,, which he could not do be- 
 fore. As often as I afl<.ed him how he found 
 him.feif, he faid, he was not afraid of dying. 
 He afterwards afked me, whether I had fcen 
 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 lafl. He then embraced me, 
 and we parted, till we met again at the place 
 of execution. 
 
 When
 
 ( 285 ) 
 When 1 .received him there, I comfor- 
 ted him, and laid, among other words, that 
 Chrift would not leave him. Upon which he 
 aniwered : " He has been with me all the way 
 ' hither.'* We then went up the ftairs to the 
 fcaffold. Even here, he alTured me his mind 
 was compol'ed, and he was not afraid of death. 
 I fpoke ieveral things after his fentence was 
 read to him, and his coat of arms broken. 
 And when I happened to quote the v/ords, 
 * Son, be of good cheer, thy fms are forgiven 
 thee,' he faid : " Yes, they all are caft inro 
 the depths of the fea." 
 
 When I had read thofc things from, the ritual 
 which arc ufual on fuch occafioPiS, and had alked 
 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 Chriil'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 ofi', laid himfelf 
 dovvn, and v.'hen his head was already upon 
 the block, and I reminded him of Jeftis 
 falling on his face in Gethfemane prayin^^, he 
 
 laid : 

 
 ( 286 ) 
 
 faid: " The blood of Chrill: interceedeth 
 for me." V/hilft 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 punilhrnent. 
 
 Two anonymous Letters to Count Brandt, 
 which were found in the pocket-look which he 
 ufed always to carry about him^ wherein 
 he was forewarned of what happened to him 
 many months after. 
 
 I ^^ "^ ^ ^ ^^ 
 
 Sir, 
 
 "* *' Perhaps you may wonder to receive a letter 
 without a name on a matter of fo great impor- 
 tance, from a friend Vv'ho formerly ufed to tell 
 you the truth before your face ; but the times 
 we live in now, will not juftify a man in ex- 
 pofing himfelf to danger, without feeing any 
 good arifing from it. 
 
 The two lall court-days, I fought for an op- 
 portunity at Hirfchholm to fpeak a few words 
 to you in private ; but I found it was impolTible. 
 You might have obferved this, if you had been 
 at all attentive; but I found you fo much 
 engaged with another objeiSi:, that I cculd not 
 
 approach 
 
 I
 
 ( '2.^7 ) 
 approach you, near enough to make you under- 
 Hand what I wanted : and I thought it not ad- 
 vilable to go to Hirfchhohn on purpofe to pay 
 you a vifit. 
 
 Once, Sir, you fliev/ed that you had the ho- 
 nour of your mafter at heart. It was then 
 afierted, that neither zeal nor attachment were 
 the fprings of your actions, but ambition and 
 intered, becaufe you hoped that if you could 
 
 bring into difgrace Count H ycu might 
 
 fucceed him in that favour and honour he en- 
 joyed. However, the bulk of the people 
 thought your intentions noble and without fclf- 
 interell. Perhaps the immediate confequences 
 of this your tranfadlion have made fo great an 
 imprelTion upon you, that you think you dare 
 not venture upon fuch another. And yet the 
 final iflue of the affair has (hewn, that even your 
 ill fuccefs in it has been more advantao-eous to 
 
 O 
 
 you than detrimental. Thfei^fore, Sir, do not 
 think that this was the • mere jlTlcl of accident, 
 but rather that a higher hand has guided this 
 matter. I do not know 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 (o great impor- 
 tance here. Time will come, when experience 
 
 will
 
 ( 28S ) 
 
 will teach you that there is a God, who fees and 
 knows every thing, who either early or late 
 rewards virtue and puniflies 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 aa honeft 
 heathen thought himfclf obliged to, towards his 
 King, his country, himfelf and his family. The 
 heathen laws demanded this of every fub- 
 je6l and of every man who laid any claim to 
 honour. 
 
 You fee, Sir, in what manner your King and 
 benefaftor is ufed. You fee the indecent things 
 that are done before his eyes, and in which you 
 yourfelf are too much concerned. You fee 
 that in the v*'hole kingdom every thing is turned 
 upfide down. Confider, Sir, and recover your 
 fenfes, and you will not be at a lofs how to ad. 
 If it is true, (and it is but too true) that the life 
 of the King is in danger, or at lead, that pre- 
 parations are making to take away his liberty ; 
 you certainly mufl know it. The fenfe of the 
 nation on this head cannot be unknown to you, 
 and that one time or other vou are to account 
 for the life and liberty of your Sovereign.' 
 You, Sir, fince you are conftantly about himv 
 
 and
 
 C 289 ) 
 
 and fince yoti fee and know of every thing •, be 
 affured that your head will be anfwerable for it 
 either fooner or later. Think of your own 
 fafety, I conjure you by the friendlhip I enter- 
 tain fov you. It is in your power to do it. Yon 
 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 Vv'iil then 
 be your fate ? Would it not be beft for yoUj 
 to fave your head, and to do at the fame time 
 your duty ? To build your happinefs on a foiid 
 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 fer vices. You and 
 your prefent v/elfare depends on the caprice of 
 a wretch who will abandon you as foon as he is 
 above your afliftance. At prefent he makes 
 tife 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 lliould come to town, I advife 
 you to *6t in this manner. Prevail upon him 
 
 U to
 
 ( 29-0 } 
 
 to go to the palace, and perfuade him to call 
 for one or two of his faithful fervants to coh- 
 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 pcrfons •, for the beft and clevereft men 
 are carefully removed. You will eafily guefs 
 who thefe perfons are without my naming them, 
 Perfeverance, honefty, and experience are cha- 
 raifleriftics by which you are to know them, I 
 could name them, but I v.-»ouid avoid the leaft 
 fufpicion of fcif-interefl. However, I muft tell 
 you, that it is neither ■' nor — — — ^ •, both 
 
 are deteftcd 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 neglc6l your duty towards 
 your King and benefa6lor, you may be fure 
 it will coft you your life, your honour, and 
 every thing which is dearefl: to an honeft man, 
 and befides no body Vi'ill pity you. If you, on 
 the other fide, do wliat your duty requires, and 
 fave your King from thofe wicked hands he is 
 fallen into, you may be fure that there is no 
 honour or profperity to which you would not be 
 cntitk'd to, and this with coafent of the Ki<ng 
 and all his faidiful fubjtds. 
 
 Perhaps
 
 C 29t ) 
 
 Perhaps you will think proper to (hew 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 nev/ favours to the hufband 
 
 of Lady ' ; and perhaps he might do it, 
 
 to deceive you, and to keep you iti his intereft. 
 But I affure 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 fhall 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 rhay plead 
 ignorance, I afTure you upon honour, that in 
 fuch cafe, die copy of this letter fliall be pro- 
 duced againll you in proper time and place. 
 And for fear you fhould miftake in this refpeft, 
 I defire you to mind the feal of this letter, 
 which contains the initial letters of my name, 
 and which will alfo be produced againlt you. 
 
 The life and health of the Kina:, too-cther 
 with the welfare of the kingdom, are in your 
 hands-, afb 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
 
 ( '292 ) 
 
 of God may be, though I have reafon to think, 
 from what you told me once in your apartments 
 at Chriftianfburg, and afterwards at Hirfchholm, 
 that your notions are not altogether as they 
 fliould be.) 
 
 You fee I am not afraid of your gueffing who 
 I am, and I affure you, that if you a6l as I ex- 
 pedl 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 feci already the effedls of your bad con- 
 dud. 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 fince they find they 
 can do with you whatever they pleafe, they laugh 
 at you nov/, and it will not lall long before they 
 will fend you with contempt about your bufinefs ; 
 and left you fiiould tell tales, they very likely 
 may imprifon you for life, or fend you, by fomc 
 means or other, into another world. This will 
 be the due reward of your treachery, cowardice, 
 and your mean aftions. I prognofticated all thefe 
 things to you in my laft letter of July the 8th : 
 fince that time, my friendfiiip 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 perfevere in your wicked way of life. 
 If you, at that time, had followed my advice, 
 you would have fet the King at liberty by faving 
 him, and your praife would have been immortal : 
 you then would have fatisned the duties of a 
 good fubjeft, of a faithful fervanr. and of an 
 honefl 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 l^-e detefced 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 knk of your own 
 duty ; but people were miftaken. You are nov/ 
 puniihed ; you are infamous among the wh.ole 
 nation, and your name is mentioned with horror. 
 At court you are laughed at, and entertained 
 with va'n hopes ; an imaginary greatnefs is 
 fiiev/n you, you are tickled with the empty title 
 of Count, which will remain a monument of 
 
 U 3 your
 
 C 294 ) 
 yoar want of faith, your weaknefs, your mean^ 
 nefs, and your reproachful condu6l. In the 
 mean time Struenfee infults the King and the 
 v/hole royal family, not becaufe they had of-- 
 fended him, but only to fhew his vinlimited 
 power. He arrogates all honours to himfelf ; 
 he makes himfeif mafter of the government, 
 the concerns of taQ kingdom, and of the 
 King himfeif, whom he difhonours before the 
 whole world ; he difpofes of the revenues of the 
 kingdom in a defporic manner, and againft all 
 order. This wretch durft attempt to put himfeif 
 on a level with his mafter, by drawing up an 
 order, by which the figning of his name obtains 
 the fame authority, which, according to the 
 ccnftitution of the kingdom, only belongs to the 
 fignature of the King. Your meannefs, and 
 your unwarrantable conduil, have aflifted to raife 
 him fo high ; ycu could have prevented this, 
 and therefore you will be anfwerable for the con- 
 fequences. He commits crimes, and affafiinations, 
 and he does k to keep the reins of government; 
 but you contribute your fhare, by obeying the 
 orders of this Cromwell, who is ready to faerie 
 fice the life of the King a thoufand times over, 
 if pofTible, that he may obtain his wicked ends, 
 and provide for his own fecurity. Inftead of ac-. 
 quainting the King with things which nobody 
 k(iowe better than you, (for you are cunning 
 
 enouo:h
 
 ( 295 ) 
 enough when it concerns your own Intereft) you 
 ufiift this Dick leat /^ hajlo in arrogating to him- 
 felf royal authority -, in keeping his mailer under 
 guardianfhip •, in degrading him in the eyes of 
 his fubjeds,, that their love may ceafe, or at 
 Seaft decrcaie ; and iaftly, as every one fays, ia 
 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 wilHng to do it, you, 
 Sh-, are accountable for it, and you deferve 
 greater puTJihmenc than the traitor himfelf : and 
 believe me, as fure as that there is a God, yon 
 fooner or later, Ihall pay for it with your hea4 
 
 You fee how prepofleroufly bufmefs Is tranf- 
 afted ; every thing is overthrown and jumbled 
 together in the moft ftrange manner, and blended 
 ■with tlie highefl inconfideratenefs, of which there 
 is no parallel inftance to be met with in hillory. 
 The moft honeftpeople that have ferved the king- 
 dom fuch a long while and fo faithfully that even 
 envy itfelf could not blame them, are removed ac 
 a diftance : they are turned way in the mofl 
 ftiamcful manner, if they will not fall in with the 
 meafures of this Do£lor of fhyfic, or if he is afraid 
 ©f their honefty. Their places are filled up with 
 wretches who k;now nothing of the conftitutloa 
 of the kina;dom and of the fituation of affairs j 
 
 y 4 who
 
 ( 296 ) 
 
 wlio know nothing of the bufinefs annexed to their 
 offices ; in fhort, people of whom nobody fa 
 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 -J prcfeiTor of mathematics 
 
 at Ligniz, is placed at the head of the board of 
 finances ? Thefe men enjoy a yearly falary of 
 3000 rixdollars, whilfl: others that have ferved 
 forty or fifcy years without blame, are nov/ llarv- 
 ing, becaufe they could not betray the King and 
 their country, and would not be employed in 
 promoting bad and dellrudtive ends. Yet thefe 
 ignorant men dare to rake upon their fhoulders a 
 burden under whichj 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 charadler ; 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 wretchednefs of this prefent adminifiration,. 
 that it feels the bad confequences of it, which 
 will drive it at laft to extremities. You may be 
 jafTured of tlie truth of this the more, fmce dif- 
 
 contcnt
 
 ( '^91 ) 
 content difcovers itfelf in a public and an alarnit 
 in'g manner. You know all this, but you con- 
 ceal it from the King, though you are the only 
 man that converfes with the King, vvhilft accefs 
 to the throne is denied to all the reft of his fub- 
 jefls. You alone can inform the King of the 
 dangerous fituation he himfelf and his kingdoms 
 are in. The inconceivable indifference where- 
 with the bell and braveft of the King's fubicfts 
 are treated, fhews that a certain kingdom C Nor- 
 way) may foon become alienated ; fo that, in a 
 (hort time, every thing may be loft without help, 
 if his Majefty 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 minifier^ who has 
 the audacity to interfere, every thing is per- 
 plexed, fo that the name of the Danes is now a 
 fubjedt for ridicule. 
 
 Y'ou fee, Sir, and you know, how arbitrarily 
 his excellency cur great prir/ie minijler^ Count 
 Strucrfce, difpofcs of the finances — the pure blood 
 of the poor fubjecfts. 
 
 You, Sir, as you are a Dane, of noble ex- 
 tradion, beloved by your King, to wliom you 
 
 and
 
 ( 29S ) 
 
 and your family owe fo many favours j and yet 
 for you to keep lilence! — Do not you blufh ? 
 and are you not convinced in your confcience, 
 that you yourfelf ought to fall the firft facrifice 
 of fuch condu6t, 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 greateft danger by this conduit, which is 
 not confiftent with the character of an honeft 
 man? 
 
 Reflect, Sir, and return to your duty : I conjure 
 you by the afties of your father, whom you never 
 knew ; by the tears of your virtuous mother, 
 who weeps, perhaps, already on account of your 
 approaching untimely deaths and what is ftill 
 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 DoUor-^ 
 '^rirae-jninijler when it concerns your private inte- 
 
 refti
 
 ( '^99 ) 
 refti but you are mean enough to be reconciled by 
 a preTent of 1 0,000 rixdollars, of which he has 
 robbed the King and the nation to give them to 
 you. Are you not alhamed 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 endano-ering their heads, which 
 already fit Joolely upon their fhoulders. You 
 would fave your King and your country ; you 
 v/ould 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 tov/ards loading you with riches. 
 With what tranquillity and inward fatisfadion 
 would you enjoy your fortune, your prerogatives, 
 and your honour, if you fhould 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 iniligated to per- 
 forpi noble aftions only by mercenary motives. 
 
 In my opinion you muft begin this important 
 bufinefs in the following manner. You are fre- 
 Guently alone with the King : you take a walk in 
 
 thQ
 
 ( 300 ) 
 
 the evening v/ith the King, as I was informed lad 
 Wednefday at Pliifchholm : you have found that 
 tlie King is weary of the guardianship he is kept 
 under. Mal^e u!"e, Sir, of fuch a favorable mo- 
 ment, or occafion it yourfelf, fmce you hive 
 underflanding enough for it. Reprefent to 
 him the unhappy fituation he is in, and how 
 inconfiftent 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 betv^een him- 
 felf and Struenfee ; that he himfelf, the royal fa- 
 mily, the kingdom, all his fubjeds, his reve- 
 nues, the life and the property of every one, 
 are left to the arbitrary difpofal ofthis^r^r^-^r^W- 
 vizir, who is a man without experience, without 
 honour, without religion, without fidelity ; who 
 does not regard laws, who is mailer over all, even 
 over the life of the Kins;. You know that great 
 crimes are oftentimes produ6tive of Hill greater 
 ones, or that we at leaft mufl fear that it might 
 happen. When you have explained this to the 
 King, then reprefent to him the defpair his fub- 
 jecls are in, and to what they might be driven by 
 fuch a deftruclive adminiftration, and by fuch 
 mifcry. Shew him what danger threatens him 
 and his empire, if this wretch has time enough 
 to turn every thing upfide down. If you fhould 
 put the heart of the King in emotion, and fliould 
 2 have
 
 ( 301 ) 
 
 have convinced him, how abfolutely necefiary 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, whero 
 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 ileps (which 
 could be of confequence) at the time when the 
 nation fhould attempt to revenge itfelf, and to 
 fhew its hatred againft the authors of its misfor- 
 tunes and its miferies. I could name thefe 
 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 muft not 
 
 be , nor , nor ■, for thefe 
 
 three the n ation equally detefts, and they, there- 
 fore, would frufirate 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 haftcn to the 
 alTiflance of your unhappy country. Save the 
 nation, the King, and your own head. 
 
 September the 1 9th, 1 77 1 ,
 
 ( 3^2 ) 
 
 Tihe Sentence of Count E N E v o L d Brandt^ 
 at full length. 
 
 Y T appears, from Count Brandt's own con- 
 -^ lelTion, as well as from the declaration of the 
 late prime minider, John Frederick Struenfee, 
 and from other circumltances, that Count Ene- 
 vold Brandt was not only Struenfee's very good 
 friend, but even his intimate, whom he intrulled 
 with his greatefl fecrets. 
 
 Therefore, in confideration of the royal fa- 
 vour and intimacy which he enjoyed, it would 
 iiave 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, fcntiments, and tranfadlions of 
 Struenfee, and which he mull have found foolifh> 
 audacious, and detrimental both to the King, the 
 adminiftration, and the whole empire. 
 
 Inftead of this, he, as a criminal fubjed and 
 fervant of the King, unworthy of his truft, has 
 aded in concert with Struenfee, and has not left 
 off to be his intimate, and to affiil him. 
 
 He fuffered himfelf to be employed by Struenfee 
 
 to keep every body from fpeaking to the King, 
 
 left his Majcfty fliould be informed of what was 
 
 blameable in Struenfee's conducl, in which he 
 
 himielf was lb deeply concerned. 
 
 He
 
 ( 303 ) 
 
 He has behaved, not only in private, but 
 even publicly, to the great concern of his fellow 
 fubjecfls, infolently, and without any refpedt to- 
 wards his King. 
 
 He has not fhewn that reverence to his Ma- 
 jelly which every good fubjed: thinks his duty, 
 and exprefles readily from his heart on all occa- 
 fions, in his words and aftions : 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 Strucnfee, is a proof of 
 his abfurd pretenfions, and that he acknow- 
 ledged his blameable behaviour towards the 
 King. Therefore he fhould have altered and 
 amended his conduft, and rather have quitted a 
 poft that he held, which he difliked, and for 
 >vhich he was not qualified. But no ! he would 
 not a6t contrary to the will of his benefactor and 
 proteftor Struenfee, who wanted him, for his 
 own purpofes, to be about the King's perfon ; 
 and Count Brandt, on his part, expedled to be 
 rewarded by his friend with greater honours and 
 riches. 
 
 He in his department as dire5leur des fpeulacleSy 
 
 has affifted Struenfee, to bring about a mif- 
 
 underftanding in the royal family, by afTigning 
 
 lo Prince Frederick a feparate box in the play- 
 
 4 houfe
 
 C 304 ) 
 houie, lefl his lloyal Highners Ihould have art 
 opportunity, by being in the fame box with the 
 King, to acquaint him with Count Brandt's 
 and his intimate friend's moll blameabie con- 
 dud. 
 
 He has prevailed upon Struenfee to make 
 him, witliin a fl:iort time, prefents out of the 
 King's treafury to the amount of 60,000 rix- 
 dollars, though he v/as convinced, he neither 
 for his fcrvices nor for his condufl deferved fuch 
 a reward. 
 
 When he returned his thanks to his Majefty 
 for thefe' great prefents, he did not mention the 
 fum, becaufe he was confcious that he was un- 
 deferving of it, and becaufe Struenfee had 
 defired him not to mention it, lefl the King 
 fhould get an infight into that, which the ap- 
 proved of extradls of accounts have fince 
 clearly fhewn to his Majefty and every one 
 who infpecls them. 
 
 A. 
 
 All thefe criminal anions are perpetrated by 
 Count Brandt, and his confcience mufl alfo 
 tell him every moment, that he adlcd as a faith-^ 
 lefs fubjeft, and particularly againfl 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 fcrnfibly put in mind of his duty in two 
 
 anonymous
 
 ( 3^5 ) 
 anonymous betters, 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 fcaffold. 
 
 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 confefled, 
 clearly and plainly before the King's commifTion, 
 and what is proved and confirmed by feveral 
 witnefles -, That he has laid hands on the facred 
 perfon of his Majefry. 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 afiault 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-' 
 faftion of his royal mailer, whofe well deferved 
 admonition he fhould have received with re- 
 pentance of his former behaviour towards him, 
 and Ihould have avoided coming into his pre- 
 fence, left he fhould offend him again. 
 
 Inftead of this, he planned with his friend 
 Struenfce, how and when he could beft afTault 
 his Majefty, and confidered by himfelf, what 
 weapons he was to ufe, which he kept in readi- 
 
 X nefs.
 
 nefs, though upon fecond confideratlon he did 
 not make ufe of them. 
 
 Being told by Striienfee that the King was by 
 himfclf, 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 tliat were in waiting 
 out of the room, bokcd the door, left any body 
 fliould come in to oppofe him and to prevent 
 his dcfign, and forced his Majefty by words 
 and by an affauh to make rsfiftance. 
 
 He wounded the King in tliis fcuffle on the 
 neck, and abufed his benefactor and his Kine^ 
 with words and exprefiions \o lliocking and 
 rebellious, that every body muft forbear repeat- 
 ing them. 
 
 Though Count Brandt has faid in his de- 
 fence, that his Myefly had forgiven him this ; 
 yet, fuppofe it were io, it cannot be underftood 
 otherwife, than that his Majefty would forbear 
 puniftiing fo great a crime for a v;hilc. This 
 indulgence does notjullify him, and his Majefty 
 muft know beft how far it fliould extend 
 
 itfelf. 
 
 This deteftable and traiterous adion of Count 
 
 Brandt, cannot be confidered otherwife than as 
 
 an open attempt upon the King's perlbn, and 
 
 cannot fall under any other denomination than 
 
 that
 
 ( 3^7 ) 
 
 that of high-treafon, which deferves the puniih- 
 ment fixed upon fuch a crime in the Danifh 
 code of laws, book vi. chap. 4. article i. 
 
 We?; c' erefore udg ng accordingly, think it 
 to be juft and right, that 
 
 Count Enevold Brandt fhall have forfeited 
 his honour, his life, and his eftates •, that he 
 Ihall 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, fhall be broken by the executioner 
 on the fcaffold ; likewife fhall Count Enevold 
 Brandt's ri2ht hand and afterwards his head be 
 cut off when alive, his body fhall be quartered 
 and laid upon the wheel, and his head and his 
 hand fhall be ftiick upon a pole. 
 
 Given by the King's commiflion at the cafdc 
 of Chriftianfburg, Jpril tht 25th, 1772. 
 
 I. K. Juel Wind. G.A.Braem. H. Stampe. 
 
 (L. S.) rL. S.) (L. S.) 
 
 Luxdorph. A. G.Carflens. Kofod Anchor. 
 
 (L. S.) (L. S.) (L.S.) 
 
 I. E. E. Schmidt. F. C. Sevcl. O. Guldbers. 
 
 (L. S.) (L. S.) (L. S.) 
 
 &• 
 
 The approbation of the King is as follov/s.
 
 C 308 ) 
 
 We hereby approve in ail points of thefentence^ 
 pronounced by the commiffion of enquiry which 
 we had appointed at our caftle of Chriftianfburg, 
 againfb Enevold Brandt, on account of his 
 deteilable and traiterou's defign and aflault upon 
 our own perfon, that he fhall have forfeited l;is 
 honour, life, and efcate, fliall be deprived of his 
 dignity as. Count, and all other digliities v/hich 
 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, Ihall be cut off when alive-, his body 
 fliall be quartered and laid upon the wheel, and 
 his head and his hand fnall be ftuck upon a 
 pole. Whereupon thofe whoni it concerns are 
 commanded to act accordingly. 
 
 Given- at our caflle of Chriflianfburg, the 27th 
 
 oi April, 1772. 
 
 O. Tott 
 
 CH R I ST I AN. 
 
 LuXDORPH. A.. ScnUMACHERj 
 DONS. HOYER. 
 
 F I I^ • I S.
 
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