So certain and true as the proverb generally is, "that severe lords do not reign long," it is equally certain that such severe lords, during their brief authority, can produce as much harm as cannot be redressed in double the length of time. The Danish and Norwegian subjects have been for many hundred years accustomed to be treated mercifully, as their fidelity and sincerity deserves. The affection and veneration which they feel for their king cannot be described, and they are in return beloved by their regent. They generally feel a deep reverence for the Supreme Being and God's word, are all sensible, and have a feeling of shame for sins committed: they are quiet, and everybody lives securely in the country, so that foreigners said: "It is pleasant to live here," and built themselves all sorts of abodes among us, though without despising and offending the nation. But, during the last few years, this has become quite different, and has assumed a strange and confused aspect. Attempts have been made to render the king--that dearest part of everything temporal to his people--odious to his subjects, and the latter in turn to him. No one could obtain access to his Majesty unless he belonged to the party which did not mean well with him. Impudence and contempt were emboldened to rise against so highly venerable a royal house. The Almighty and His word were rendered ridiculous. People strove to drive away virtue and honour, and to open a gate to immorality, seeing no shame in it, but evidently seeking honour in it. The audacity was carried so far that the authority which the nation voluntarily committed to Frederick III. and his descendants, was solely exercised by a subject, and was even about to be extended, so that the man who exercised it might be absolute. Like the nation, their language was despised. It was heart-torture for every honest man and lover of honour to see and hear all that which can be read in printed documents. The ruin of families was like the deed of a fallen angel. But who was this fallen angel? It was John Frederick Struensee, the most foolhardy person who can be imagined, and who for this reason deserves the name of more than _vir unius seculi_, formerly a doctor, up to the present time a count, but of whom (as I hope), before I let him go, nothing will be left but horror, condemnation, and punishment.