quiet, and the commandant spoke in the highest terms of his behaviour, which was most edifying. Still, I cannot help thinking that there was a certain amount of hypocrisy in the affair; at any rate, so long as Brandt thought there was a chance of saving his life. For instance, it seems rather _outré_ to find the prisoner frequently taking up his chains and kissing them, to which he would say, "When I believed myself to be free, I was a miserable slave to my passions; and now that I am a prisoner, truth and grace have set me at liberty." Nor should much faith be placed in his denunciations of Voltaire, with which old advocate of Shaitan he had spent four days on his travels, and had heard nothing from him (as he said) save what could corrupt the heart and sound morals. Another curious bit Dr. Hee shall tell us in his own quaint language:-- "He spoke of Struensee, and said he was a man without any religion, who, from his infancy, according to his own confession, never had any impression or feelings of it. As to himself, he assured me that, though he had been far from being virtuous, yet he always entertained a secret reverence for religion, and had spoken several times about it to Struensee, in hopes of leading him to better sentiments, but he never would hear him. It appeared to me a little odd that the blind should thus have led the blind; I therefore made no answer, thinking it might, perhaps, be his self-conceit that made him speak so, or that he wanted me to entertain a better opinion of his errors than I had reason for: hence I would not tempt him to support an untruth by defending what he had told me." Attention was also paid to the state of Struensee's soul. At first he declined to see any clergyman, but when the confession that decided his fate had been drawn from him, his persecutors resolved to send him ghostly counsel even against his will. The choice fell, as has been stated, on Dr. Münter, at that time provost of the German Peter's church in Copenhagen. This worthy divine has left us an account of Struensee's conversion, which everybody used to read in the last century, but is utterly forgotten now. It is invaluable, however, for a proper comprehension of Struensee's character. In every page we seem to have before us a weak, sensual man, incapable of resisting any persevering pressure; incredulous through levity, purified by misfortune, sincerely converted, feeling the same contempt for the judgment of posterity as for that of his contemporaries; badly guided at the outset by too strict a father, but possessing excellent qualities, full of forgiveness for his pitiless enemies, and perfectly resigned. Over such a character a man like Münter soon gained the upper hand: he was a theologian, but would have made a first-rate lawyer, and at the same time a passionate Christian, who, while he believed that he was only labouring to save a wretch's soul, aided his implacable foes to consummate his ruin.