As Münter said this, he looked at the prisoner with an air which the latter seemed to understand, for he blushed.
On his second visit, Dr. Münter strove to convince the count of the falsity of his system, that man was a mere machine. Struensee answered, that in his present situation his mind was neither composed nor serene enough to examine into the nature of his principles. Münter, however, would not allow himself to be foiled in this manner, but earnestly warned the prisoner that it was his ambition alone which prevented him from doing justice to truth.
"Oh!" said Struensee, "this inclination is gone, and I am now very little in my own eyes and how could I be ambitious in this place?"
Münter speedily discovered the tender side in his opponent. The thought of having dragged his friends and adherents into ruin with him grieved him most, and hence he found his only comfort in repentance. The doctor, consequently, had hardly touched on this topic, ere Struensee confessed to him with tears in his eyes, that he felt guilty in this respect. Münter confirmed him in his sorrow, hoping thus to induce him to speak about his other actions. He told him that, in order to qualify himself for God's mercy, it was necessary to search his former life, and to acknowledge his errors and crimes. Then, in order to hold up to him the necessity of repentance, Münter delineated to him the outlines of his character, as he had reason for thinking it to be.
"God," the doctor said, "has given you an uncommon understanding, and, as I believe, a good natural disposition of heart; but, through voluptuousness, ambition, and levity, you have corrupted yourself."
Struensee confirmed Münter's conjectures, and admitted that voluptuousness had been his chief passion, and had contributed most to his moral depravity.
At the seventh conference Dr. Münter thought it advisable to hand Struensee a letter from his parents, which he had kept in his pocket for several days. This letter is curious, as showing how far the idolatry of royalty was carried at that time. Struensee's crime was considered so horrible, that no one imagined that it could be pardoned. Even his parents, the letter shows, writing to him in his wretched dungeon, do not once testify a desire that his sufferings should be alleviated, or that he should be spared the death which he so justly merited. The body was surrendered to man, who must be inexorable; the only thing to be effected was the salvation of the soul. The letter was to the following effect:—
My Second Son!
I could wish that these lines, if possible, may reach you, that you may read and consider. The melancholy, grief, and anxiety of your parents on account of their sons, I am not able to express. Our eyes swim in tears day and night. Our souls cry for mercy to God without ceasing. But I will speak no more of this. There is but one thing that lies heavy on my mind, and that of your much afflicted mother. You know our sentiments. You know our intentions when we educated you. You remember how often and how seriously we inculcated this great truth, that godliness is profitable unto all things.
As often as I had occasion to speak to you, even then when you were in a public character, I reminded you of the omnipresent God, and exhorted you to be careful in preserving a good conscience. Your own heart will tell you how far you have lived up to the exhortations of your father.
Your parents have been in great anxiety about you for a long while. As we lead a retired life, and have very few acquaintances, and as you yourself have written nothing about your circumstances, the prayers and sighs of our straitened hearts have ascended to God in secret, and in our anxiety we cried that your soul might not be lost. Three different times, at Halle, Gedern, Altona, you were looked upon as a dead man by those who stood about your sick bed. God saved you, and preserved your life; certainly with the sole intention of preparing you, in this time of grace, for a happy eternity. The same is now the chief intention of your gracious Redeemer in your prison. You are His creature. He loves you. You are redeemed by the blood of Jesus. God is a reconciled Father. You are baptized in the name of the Trinity. He will make an everlasting covenant with you, and will not desist from doing good to you. Return to your God, my son. He will not hide His face of grace from you. Mind the voice of your conscience, and the conviction which the spirit of God produces in your soul. Pray to God that He may disclose to you the true inward state of your soul, that you, enlightened by God, may see how much you are corrupted. Employ the solitude you are now in to search your whole life in the sight of the omniscient God, that you may see how great and detestable your sins are. Do not flatter yourself. Be rigorous with yourself. Accuse yourself, and judge yourself before the tribunal of God, whilst you are still enjoying this time of grace.
When you shall feel your sins to be a heavy burden, your heart then will humiliate itself before God, you will pray for mercy, and you will seriously detest and abhor your transgressions. You will then see the just importance and necessity of the redemption of Christ. You then will take refuge in Him who receives sinners, who was made to be sin for us, who has paid the debts of our sins, and suffered their punishment, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him, and might have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace. Still the blood of Christ speaks for you. He that is merciful still stretches forth His hands. Without Jesus there is no salvation. He is the cause of it. Even for your sake He has received gifts. You may have in Him righteousness for your peace of mind, and for your sanctification. Oh that Jesus might be glorified in your heart! In Him we have happiness while we live, while we suffer, while we die, and after death.
Your mother sends her love to you. She weeps, she prays with me for our unfortunate sons. My son, my son, how deeply do you afflict us! Oh! could we but have this only comfort, that our sons turned with all their heart unto the Lord, and that we might with joy find them again in eternity before the throne of the Lamb!
Your crimes which brought you into prison are not properly and sufficiently known to us. What is talked of and read in public about you is of such a nature that your parents condemn and detest it. Oh! would to God that you had remained a physician! Of your rise to honours we were informed by the newspapers; but it was no matter of joy to us; we read it with grief. Oh! that you had kept, in all your transactions, a clear conscience, with much wisdom, piety, and humility, for the good of Denmark, and that you might have submitted with due subjection to all the commands of your sovereign. We cannot altogether judge of this matter for want of information. But know that, though we love our children, we nevertheless do not approve of their crimes, nor will we excuse or palliate them, or call them good; we rather hate all sins; detest, condemn, and abhor them; and praise God when He manifests His just wrath over the wicked, and shows His mercy to the penitent and the faithful. The Lord our God be your physician in your imprisonment, and cure thoroughly the wounds of your soul!
We, your parents, recommend you to the love of the Lord, who has mercy on you. May Jesus, who is a compassionate High Priest, remember you for good at the right hand of God, that you may receive mercy before the throne of grace, and be pardoned unto everlasting salvation. Yea, Jesus! Thou great friend of mankind, who wilt in nowise cast out him that comes to Thee, help parents and children to life everlasting.
I am, your heartily afflicted father,
Adam Struensee.Rendsburg, March 4, 1772.
Struensee took this letter with eagerness, and began reading it; but it is not surprising to find that he had not half finished it when he laid it down, weeping bitterly. Shortly after, he received a letter from his mother, written precisely in the same Calvinistic strain as that from his father, and not containing one single trait of that maternal affection so necessary under such trying circumstances.