"But I must expect that we are not both of the same opinion in regard to the state of man after death; yet, though you might have persuaded yourself that there is no life to come, and, consequently, neither rewards nor punishments, I cannot help thinking that there 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, you had art enough to stifle it in the birth. However, it will always be out of your power to prove that there is no eternity." Struensee listened attentively, but would not own that he ever had any inward impressions of immortality, or had been afraid of it. Perhaps he might have been, but he did not recollect. He owned that the thought that he should soon entirely cease to be, was disagreeable to him: it frightened him: he wished to live, even though it were with less happiness than he now enjoyed in his prison. But he did not find the thought of total annihilation so terrible, as he had noticed it was to many who entertained the same principles as himself. In conclusion, he remarked:-- "My opinion, which is opposed to yours, is so strongly woven into my sentiments: I have so many arguments in favour of it: I have made so many observations from anatomy and physic which confirm it: that I think it will be impossible for me to renounce my principles. This, however, I promise: that I will not wilfully oppose your efforts to enlighten me, but rather wish, as far as it lies in my power, to concur with you. I will not dissemble, but honestly tell you of what I am convinced, and of what I am not. I will deal with you openly: for such is my character, and my friends can bear witness to it." At Münter's request Struensee then explained to him his religious principles, of which an account has already been given. On this first visit, Münter did not press his penitent home, but as he observed that he was really very uneasy about some of his actions, he thought it proper to increase this uneasiness. With this view, he told the prisoner, as he took leave of him, that Count Bernstorff had died at Hamburg on February 18. Struensee exclaimed, with great emotion, "What! is he dead?" and seemed to shudder. "Yes," Münter answered, "he is. His wisdom, religion, and piety have preserved to him the character of a great man to the last; and it is generally believed that the grief of his latter years has hastened his death." As Münter said this, he looked at the prisoner with an air which the latter seemed to understand, for he blushed.