political powers an elevation sufficient to dazzle the eyes and corrupt the heart of a man, even though he were fortified by much stronger principles of religion and morality than the unfortunate Count.

Meanwhile the attachment of the queen to Struensee exceeded in appearance at least, the bounds of all moderation.

His abilities were commanding, his powers of application great, his views enlarged, his resolutions were both rapidly taken and decisively carried into effect. Many of his public measures were calculated to improve and to aggrandize the state. Yet even in this department he exposed himself to much unpopularity by measures equally odious and unadvised.

While Struensee was lulled by the indulgence of his passions into a fatal security, his enemies were active in preparing for his destruction. According ly at the conclusion of a masked ball, which was given at the Royal Palace, on the 15th of January, 1772, Koller Banner, after the whole party had retired, and all was quiet, entered the bedchamber of Christian, and informed him that there was a conspiracy against his person and dignity, at the head of which were his wife, Count Struensee, and his associates. He urged the king to sign an order for their immediate arrest. Christian, however at first, whether from affection for the Count, or from that obstinacy, which is the natural consequence of imbecility, steadily refused. The Queen Dowager and Prince Frederic were then called in to enforce the requisition, and at last, by means of absolute threats, they obtained his reluctant signature. Not a moment was lost; Koller Banner made his way instantly to the chamber of Struensee, forced open the door, and found him asleep in his bed. The Count made no resistance to the order, but suffered himself to be quietly conveyed in a coach to the Citadel. Count Brandt, having made some shew of resistance, was at last forced to surrender himself, and was lodged in the same prison; their adherents also shared a similar fate. Early the next morning, the queen was hurried away to Crensburg, a fortress about twenty-four miles from Copenhagen, in which she was confined for some time.

After Count Struensee had been in close confinement for nearly six weeks, the government of the country, well knowing the fate which must ultimately await him, and desirous of affording him an opportunity of changing his infidel opinions before he should be called out of the world, appointed Dr. Munter, the minister of a German church, in Copenhagen, to visit him in prison, and to administer such spiritual advice and consolation as might be best adapted to the Count's unhappy situation.

The details of the visits of Dr. Munter afford the materials for a volume; but it will be sufficient to extract only one or two examples of their character, without tracing the prisoner's gradual conversion from scepticism to a happier condition for a dying man.

The thirty-fourth conference is thus described :

Voluptuousness,' said the Count, "is the source of all my misfortunes; ambition has only contributed to hasten and complete them. I had told you already, that when I first came into Denmark, I intended to cut as great a figure as my situation would permit. I then did not think of obtaining that power to which I was afterwards raised; I could have satisfied myself with being eminent in my profession as a physician. You will find this to be true from what I am going to tell you. I had resolved to leave Altona, and to resign my station there. I intended to go to Malaga, and to settle there as a physician, or to make a voyage to the East Indies. I had the following

reasons for my first resolution. I was, at the time I took it, rather in ll health, and hoped a milder climate would agree better with me. The notion that the pleasures of a voluptuous life would be greater and more pleasing in a warmer climate, was a matter of some consequence. The many fine things in the East Indies, which I had read in voyages, and which had warmed my imagination, determined me more for the East Indies than for Malaga.. Now a prospect opened to me of making my fortune in Denmark, I seized on the favourable opportunity. And why? I am almost ashamed to say it was owing to an acquaintance procured by a love intrigue which brought me hither. How greatly do I detest my former way of thinking, which made me follow a wild passion which always was blind! And how much am I now punished for it.'

"He was just speaking of several things which concerned his heart, of his affections towards his parents and family, of his complying with his fate, when his counsel came into his room to acquaint him with his sentence.→→→ Good Count,' said he, I bring you bad news.' He then pulled a copy of the sentence out of his pocket.

6.

'I expected nothing else,' said the Count; "He read. I fixed my eyes upon him with observe the least alteration in his countenance. it to me. It was as follows:

let me see.'

great attention, but I did not After he had read it, he gave

"In consequence of the Danish statute law, book vi. chapter iv. art. 1It is hereby declared just and right, that Count John Frederick Struensee, for his due punishment, and that it may be an example to terrify others, has forfeited his honour, his life and his estates. He shall be degraded from his dignity as Count, and all other dignities which have been conferred upon him. His coat of arms, which he had as Count, shall be broken by the common hangman. Likewise shall John Frederick Struensee's right hand, and after wards his head be cut off, his body shall be quartered and laid upon the wheel, and his head and hand stuck upon a pole.'

"During the time I was reading this sentence and trembled, he began to talk with composure to his counsel, and asked if all the points of his accusa tions had been regarded in framing his sentence. His counsel answered in the affirmative. And what will be the fate of Brandt His sentence is exactly the same as yours." And could his counsel do nothing to save him? He has said every thing that could be said in his favour, but Count Brandt has too much laid to his charge.' The Count was more moved at this, than at his own fate. However, he soon recollected himself, wrote something to what he had drawn up for his counsel, and returned it to him.

When we were alone, I assured him of my sincere compassion, and exhorted him to suffer his fate with the patience and submission of a Christian. "I assure you,' said he, 'I am very easy about that. Such punishments should make an impression on others, and therefore they ought to be severe. I had prepared myself for this and more. I thought I might perhaps be broken upon the wheel, and was already considering whether I could suffer this kind of death with patience. If I have deserved it, my infamy would not be removed, though those disgraceful circumstances were not annexed to it. And if I had not deserved it, sensible people would do me justice, and I should gain in point of honour. And upon the whole, what is honour or infamy in this world to me?'

"He added:-ʻ I must now beg of you to should be too much affected when I go to die.

be upon your guard, lest you The friendship I have for you,

from which I cannot but sympathize with you, would make me very uneasy to see you suffer. Let us however continue our conversation calmly and composed to the last. Upon the scaffold speak to me as little as possible, and as you shall think proper. I shall certainly do as much as lies in my power to` direct my thoughts towards God and my Redeemer. I shall not take my leave of you. Believe me, that without this ceremony, which likely might discompose my mind, I know how much I owe you.'

On the 38th conference, the last which took place on the morning of his execution, Dr. Munter says,

"I found him lying on a couch, dressed as he intended to go to the place of execution. He was reading Shlegel's sermons on the sufferings of Christ, and received me with his usual serene and composed countenance. He said: "I was thinking last night whether it might not strengthen me in my way to death, if I was to fill my fancy with agreeable images of eternity and future bliss. I might have used for this purpose Lavater's Prospects into Eternity but I will not venture to do this. I rather think it better to take this great step in cool consideration. Fancy, if once put in agitation, can soon take a false step. It could dismiss (perhaps) at once, my agreeable and pleasing prospects of eternity, and eagerly catch at the formidable circumstances of death, by which means I fear that I should be unmanned. Even in going to the place of execution, I will not indulge it, but rather employ my reason in meditating on the walk of Christ to his death, and apply it to myself.' "He now asked me: How far am I permitted to keep up my fortitude by natural means? For instance: by endeavouring to retain my presence of mind, and not to permit myself to be carried away by imagination and fancy. I answered,

"If God has given you a certain strength of soul, it is his will that you should make use of it, in those moments when you stand most in need of it. But no inward pride or any ill-founded complacency is to interfere. You are to do nothing merely for the sake of being applauded by the spectators on account of your resolution and composure. I should even dislike to see you conceal the natural fear of death. He said:

"I am certainly not inclined to make any shew before men. Nothing now can be more desirable to me than to please God, and to conquer the terrors of death. If I should force myself to appear outwardly different from what I am within, it would happen to me what happens to a man, who is to speak to an eminent person, and has well considered every thing he is going to say, but now begins to stammer, and, by endeavouring to prevent this, becomes quite speechless. I shall, as much as lies in my power, direct my thoughts towards God, and not disturb myself by studying to satisfy the expectation of the spectators. Therefore I shall say nothing on the scaffold, but what you yourself shall give me occasion for.'

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I assure you,' said I, I shall give you very few opportunities for it; the scaffold is neither for you nor for me the place for speaking much. When you are there, it will be your business to strengthen your thoughts as much as possible, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things that are before.'

"As soon as both the condemned were arrived in their respective coaches near the scaffold, and Count Brandt had mounted it first, I got into the coach of Struensee, and ordered the coachman to turn about, to prevent his having the prospect of the scaffold.

"I have seen it already,' said he. I could not recollect myself so soon

and he, finding my uneasiness, said, with a smiling countenance, Pray do not mind me. I see you suffer. Remember that God has made you an instrument in my conversion. I can imagine how pleasing it must be to you to be conscious of this.

"Though I could not see the scaffold, yet, I guessed from the motion of the spectators that it was Struensee's turn to mount it. I endeavoured to prepare him for it by a short prayer, and within a few moments we were called. He passed with decency and humbleness through the spectators, and bowed to some of them. With some difficulty he mounted the stairs. When we came up, I spoke very concisely, and with a low voice, upon these words of Christ; He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he be alive.' It would have been impossible for me to speak long and loud, even if I had attempted it.

"I observed here, that he shewed not the least affectation in his conduct upon the scaffold; I 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 speak, the fear of death was visible in his whole countenance; but, at the same time, submission, calmness, and hope were expressed in his air and deportment.

"His sentence, and afterwards the king's confirmation of it, were read to him; his coat of arms was publicly shewn, and broken to pieces. During the time that his chains were taking off, I put the following questions to him: -"Are you truly sorry for all those actions by which you have offended God and man?'

"You know my late sentiments on this point, and I assure you they are this very moment still the same.'

"Do you trust in the redemption of Christ, as the only ground of your being pardoned before God?'

I know no other means of receiving God's mercy, and I trust in this alone.? "Do you leave this world without hatred or malice against any person whatever?

"I hope nobody hates me personally; and as for the rest, you know my sentiments on this head, they are the same as I told you just before.'

"I then laid my hand upon his head, saying: Then go in peace whither God calls you! His grace be with you!'

"He then began to undress, and inquired of the executioners how far he was to uncover himself, and desired them to assist him. He then hastened towards the block, that was stained and still reeking with the blood of his friend, laid himself quickly down, and endeavoured to fit his neck and chin properly into it. When his hand was cut off, his whole body fell into convulsions. The very moment when the executioner lifted up the axe to cut off. his hand, I began to pronounce slowly the words; Remember Jesus Christ crucified, who died, but is risen again.'-Before I had finished these words, both hand and head, severed from his body, lay before my feet.'

MASSACRE OF SAINT BARTHOLOMEW.

Among the various traits of barbarity that disgraced the murderous festival of St. Bartholomew, historians have only preserved one truly noble and generous deed, which nevertheless carries with it a stamp of the ferocity that

characterized the period in question. Vezins, a gentleman of Querci, had been for a length of time on very bad terms with one of his neighbours, named Regnier, a Calvanist, whose death he had a hundred times vowed to accomplish; both these individuals happened to be at Paris at the fete of St. Bartholomew: and Regnier trembled, lest Vezins, profiting by circumstances, should satiate, at the expense of his life, the inveterate hatred which he en tertained towards him. While overcome by these terrors, the door of the -chamber was forced open, and Vezins entered, sword in hand, accompanied by two soldiers. "Follow me," said he, addressing himself to Regnier in a harsh and authoritative tone; the latter, palsied with apprehension, placed himself between the two guards, not doubting but death was to prove his lot; Vezins, then caused him to mount on horseback, and speedily hurried from the city, without stopping or pronouncing a syllable, when he proceeded direct to his castle at. Querci. "Here you are in safety," said Vezins; "I might have taken advantage of the occasion to avenge myself, but with brave men it is necessary to share the danger; it is on that account that I have saved you. When you think fit, you will find me ready to terminate our quarrel in a manner becoming gentlemen." Regnier only replied by uttering protestations of gratitude, and supplicating his friendship. "I leave you at liberty to hate or to love me,' "said the harsh Vezins; " and I only conducted you hither, that you might be placed in a situation to make the choice." Without! waiting for a reply, he then set spurs to his horse, and immediately diappeared..

We must not, however, conceive that religion alone sharpened the daggers of the assassins, since many Catholics, publicly known as such, perished during the tumult: children killed their parents; literary men cut shortthe career of those by whom their labours were eclipsed: lovers offered up their rivals as sacrifices to jealousy; riches were construed into crimes; hatred was a legi timate plea for cruelty; and the overwhelming torrent of example swallowed up in its vortex men formed to instruct others in the precepts of honour and of virtue.

Brantome records that many of his associates, gentlemen by birth like himself, acquired as much as ten thousand crowns by the plunder; and to such an extent was this effrontery carried, that the robbers, without shame, presented themselves at court, offering to the king and queen precious jewels, the fruits of their depredations, which were graciously accepted by their majesties.

The impetuous Charles, having once given way to passion, set no bounds to his rage, which so far triumphed over every manly feeling as to urge him to fire, from a balcony of one off the windows of the Louvre, in front of the Seine, upon his wretched fugitive subjects. This circumstance is narrated by Brantome, and was further verified by Voltaire, who, in one of the notes to his Henriade, states, that old Marshal de Lassé informed him he had known, in his youth, a gentleman, aged ninety, who had served Charles the Ninth in the capacity of a page, and that the venerable personage in question had affirmed to the marshal that he was employed in loading the arquebuss wherewith the king fired upon the populace. In consequence of this anecdote, during the revolution, a board was affixed over the window in question, bearing an inscription to the following effect:-" It was from this window that the tyrant, Charles the Ninth, of sanguinary memory, fired upon his faithful subjects, the unfortunate Huguenots, during the massacre of St. Bartholomew."