comprise all the charges raised by Struensee's opponents among the higher officials. The writer of the two threatening letters was not publicly considered a man of bright intellect, as indeed his Jeremiads sufficiently prove; but still he was supposed to be thoroughly honest. Although he proved himself the contrary, as the result will show, still Brandt appears to have paid some attention to his repeated efforts to save his Danish countryman. The letters, the alarm at the late tumult, and his own melancholy forebodings, at last made Brandt form a desperate resolution. He determined openly to impart his feelings and wishes to Struensee, and hence addressed the following appeal to his noble colleague.[10]

CHAPTER II.

THE SINKING SHIP.

BRANDT'S LETTER OF COMPLAINT—STRUENSEE'S DIGNIFIED ANSWER—A FALSE FRIEND—THE PROPOSED PLOT—FREEDOM OF THE PRESS—INSULTING PAMPHLETS—THE QUEEN DOWAGER—RUMOURED INTRIGUES—ATTEMPTED RECONCILIATION—STRUENSEE'S SELF-CONCEIT—FRESH CHANGES AT COURT.

Brandt to Struensee.

Reproaches often convert love into mere friendship, and equality often friendship into coldness. But this shall be no obstacle to my considering myself bound to pour out my heart before you, as an old friend from whom I am seeking counsel. For the last five or six weeks I have incessantly felt unhappy. With the same strength as I was tortured by melancholy considerations, I tried to appease myself again, but did not succeed. Every night I walk weeping up and down my room till four in the morning. With your remarkably healthy common sense, you, whom I do not know whether I dare call a friend, may condemn me; but you must feel yourself exactly in my position, which you will probably have a difficulty in doing. It must be most oppressive to a man possessed of delicate feelings, through his earlier associations, to be the daily companion of a king, who, far from loving this man (myself), regards me as a burden, and does everything in his power to liberate himself from me. But you force the king to live with me, and in order to complete my misery, compel me to treat the king harshly, according to his own confession. If this is in itself a hell, it is far from being all. I have at the same time been exposed to the laughter and ridicule of the whole nation. In the provinces I am compared with Moranti,[11] and justly so. I have not the slightest influence, and no more power than the first street boy, chosen hap-hazard. My position could at least have an appearance of reputation, and thus flatter vanity, but it has become ridiculous, contemptible, and almost dishonouring, through the rivalry of the negro boy. I am obliged to tell you disagreeable things, but they are true. I alone speak frankly to you. You have inspired everybody with terror: all tremble before you. No despot has ever arrogated such power as yourself, or exercised it in such a way. The king's pages and domestics tremble at the slightest occurrence; all are seized with terror; they talk, they eat, they drink, but tremble as they do so. Fear has seized upon all who surround the minister, even on the queen, who no longer has a will of her own, not even in the choice of her dresses, and their colour. Could you but see yourself in this position, my God, how startled you would be at yourself! Neither in my head nor in my heart has a wish been aroused to conduct the affairs of state, but it suited me to regulate the court and society. For this I am better adapted than you, and would have managed the business more properly: for, only to mention the liveries, they are not liveries, but uniforms. This would have spared you much hatred, and relieved the queen of considerable embarrassment, as she would have arranged the court parties more easily with me than with you. That would have given me a real existence, and saved me from becoming an object of mockery. But with all this it is now too late; for this evil, like so many others, is incurable. If you were now to entrust me with the management, it would only be apparent, and cause me a thousand annoyances. Only one as a specimen. I had a couple of suits of clothes made for the king, and they have been terribly criticised. You find the expense of two suits in three months a little too much, although the king, as a rule, changes his dress thrice a day. Had I not been so firm, which is certainly a difficult matter when opposed to you, I must have engaged, instead of real actors, a lot of impostors, Crispins and Harlequins; and instead of good comedies, we should only have had farces, of which people would have grown tired at the end of three months, after we had made ourselves ridiculous in the eyes of foreigners. Martini and Paschini, whom you tried in the queen's name to induce me to engage, would have been of this description. The orchestra would have been reduced one-half, and have only consisted of pot-house fiddlers from the regiments, who would have cracked the ears of everybody. It would have been the same case as at the balls, which, owing to the eternal repetition of the same dances, which, as you said, were performed by the queen's desire, became in a short time unendurably insipid, as I prophesied. I only mention this to show you what a part I play, and what I could have played, and to request you, if possible, to place me in a position suitable for a man of sense, information, feeling, and decent and proper pride. Even Warnstedt's situation was not so unworthy as mine; and I have cause to apprehend the contempt of all persons, which in my present position would fall on me not unjustly.

Three months ago I wrote you a letter almost to a similar effect, but since then love has made me blind; with love in his heart a man closes his eyes to the truth; he becomes blind, and falls asleep in this blindness. When reason afterwards comes to his help, when love has become friendship, then he sees things in their true light. Now, I ask myself, what would have afforded me any consolation in this unhappy position? and have only the answer—Struensee's friendship and kind conduct towards me. The former no longer exists, for you treat me with rusticity and arrogance. No mortal man has ever before dared to behave to me in such a way. At the play table, in company and everywhere, you decide everything yourself, and are only satisfied when you have humiliated other men. You really should not have behaved thus to a friend who has ever loved you so dearly, and even at a time when all his companions and daily associates reproached him for his intercourse with you; and though it might injure him, always praised you, confessed his friendship for you to everybody, and formerly employed all his skill in persuading Holck and quieting Bernstorff. Ah, my friend, how dangerous life at court is to the character! Would to Heaven you had never made acquaintance with it! I cannot possibly comprehend why your fine feelings have not been aroused against the unworthy and disgraceful game of loo. If you were to be so unfortunate as to win a large sum from a friend or a man unable to afford it, you would not be satisfied till you had introduced a loo, a campion, or a trente-et-un, of a less dangerous