character. For me it is a terrible reflection how much I have lost at these games in two months. There have been months in which I lost 1,800 dollars, and I am now obliged to sell some of my shares. And then, to be obliged to submit to reproaches for at times losing less than formerly! Could not a man blow out his brains for vexation at it?

If you desired to make a concession to a feeling and cruelly-wounded mind, I have lately thought out a plan whose fulfilment would render me perfectly happy. It would be the greatest pleasure to me to be able to go to Paris, and live there decently. In order to realise this wish, I require a yearly revenue of 20,000 species.[12] The whole city daily expects to hear that the king has given you estates, and people mention Wallö and Wemmetofte, while others are said to be intended for me. It is considered strange that we counts have no landed property, and if the king gives you Wallö and Wemmetofte, which produce 21,000 species annually, and me the county of Rantzau, which produces 15,000, no one will be surprised at it, and I shall thus be enabled to make an annual trip to Paris, and reside for some months on my estates.

Still this plan, however flattering it may sound for me, and even if you concede its fulfilment, cannot tranquillise me, for my imagination alone has sought a vain refuge in it. Fortunately there are three men here who are all gifted with sound sense, and honest and united, for whom I will answer with my head—Reverdil, Falckenskjold, and Düval. It will, therefore, solely depend on you, whether I shall entirely retire from court, and shortly undertake the post of a theatrical director, which, if it is to be properly conducted, will require my constant presence. We shall then love each other more, and you will find in me a man who, sooner than allow himself by madness and desperation to be drawn into a cabal against you, even if it promised a successful result, would not hesitate to free himself from his misery by poison or steel.

Hence I beg you to release me, to continue to be my friend, to reflect on the contents of this letter for a week or a fortnight, and then return it to me with your answer. For it is written solely for you, and I declare that I would despair if it accidentally fell into other hands.

Brandt.

Strange that Struensee, a man of sense and experience, could continue to trust in Brandt after the perusal of such a letter addressed to him. Not only does the letter contain a series of insulting remarks, and the direct assertion that intercourse with Struensee had been dishonourable to the writer, but it also bore the stamp of incipient insanity, and a temper that might easily become dangerous. But Struensee's self-confidence was so great that he did not apprehend desertion or attack from this quarter. Besides, he was sincerely attached to Brandt, and did not forget the services the latter had rendered him. His reply to Brandt's petulant letter may almost be called a state paper, though of the doctrinaire school:—

Struensee to Brandt.

Persons are always unhappy who possess an imagination rich enough to invent everything that makes us unhappy and yet wish to render us happy. When a man is gifted with such a temperament, and combines with it a natural levity which produces a liking for change, he will never arrive at a quiet enjoyment of the moment, but constantly find reasons to wish himself in a different position. But a man must sacrifice himself when he wishes to perform meritorious actions. For no one will give us credit for actions which cost us no trouble, or which we undertake for our own pleasure. The satisfaction which it will cause the queen if you succeed in your task, and the unmistakable proofs of it which you have already received, will be your reward. All that you say in addition would cause me no suspicion, if I were only convinced that it merely emanated from your zealousness; but I am morally convinced that it flows from an entirely different source. Since your amour (with Frau von Holstein), you have altered your principles, mode of thought, and views. From that moment, you have deserted and neglected me, and only granted me a few spare minutes. I have never reproached you for this, although it was done to please a person who has a mean opinion of me, and often treats me improperly. I have had the greatest respect for your inclination, and done all in my power to please you, although it has cost me trouble to overcome the anger with which Frau von Holstein inspires me. She is to me the most disagreeable of her sex, and has become even more so since I have been obliged to share your friendship with her. I request you to compare this confession with my conduct, and then to judge whether I have made a sacrifice for your sake. You must also take into account the queen's aversion for this lady, which I had even to overcome at the moment when I reproved her while dancing,—all of which, up to the present day, has been occasioned by her. This misunderstanding has often embittered my happiness; but I have never spoken to you about it. Whether this may be called a mistake or a reserve, the effect remains the same. You can yourself decide how great my confidence in you must be, as neither my feelings nor my conduct toward you have undergone any change, although I saw you allied with a person whom I dislike; whose society is disagreeable to me; and whom I mistrust.

I request you to reproach me and to oppose my intentions, in case you see that matters are going badly, or that I render the king unhappy. But if they succeed, I do not permit you to examine the means I have employed. You object, that I cause everybody terror; you should, on the contrary, praise me for it, because it is the sole correct means of curing an enervated state, with an intriguing court and people, and a king who has the same liking for change as his nation. You ought to pity me, because it is necessary for me to make myself feared, as I can only find affection through the fulfilment of my duty. I challenge you to mention anybody whom I have rendered unhappy. A yielding minister, who does not know how to act, is only a charlatan, a harlequin; for if he is also compliant in his acts, the state will always have to pay the price for securing adherents in that way. Denmark furnishes the most melancholy instances of this.

The persons who have spoken to you about the suffering of the pages and lackeys are assuredly intriguing, mean men, of no character, who only aim to make everything sink once more into the old chaos. If a man has to reform an intriguing court, and bring it to order, he cannot treat it with the mildness with which the late Söhlenthal[13] managed his household. You, yourself, were a witness of the disorder that crept into the king's apartments during my illness.[14] Good-heartedness and concession have ever been the true cause of Denmark's decay. I have saved the king from slavery, and done everything to render him happy. As regards my conduct toward his Majesty, I