or
endeavouring to render the public amusements more elegant, but for her
very charities, because she erected, amongst other institutions, a
hospital to receive foundlings. Disgusted with many customs which pass
for virtues, though they are nothing more than observances of forms,
often at the expense of truth, she probably ran into an error common to
innovators, in wishing to do immediately what can only be done by time.

Many very cogent reasons have been urged by her friends to prove that her
affection for Struensee was never carried to the length alleged against
her by those who feared her influence. Be that as it may she certainly
was no a woman of gallantry, and if she had an attachment for him it did
not disgrace her heart or understanding, the king being a notorious
debauchee and an idiot into the bargain. As the king's conduct had
always been directed by some favourite, they also endeavoured to govern
him, from a principle of self-preservation as well as a laudable
ambition; but, not aware of the prejudices they had to encounter, the
system they adopted displayed more benevolence of heart than soundness of
judgment. As to the charge, still believed, of their giving the King
drugs to injure his faculties, it is too absurd to be refuted. Their
oppressors had better have accused them of dabbling in the black art, for
the potent spell still keeps his wits in bondage.

I cannot describe to you the effect it had on me to see this puppet of a
monarch moved by the strings which Count Bernstorff holds fast; sit, with
vacant eye, erect, receiving the homage of courtiers who mock him with a
show of respect. He is, in fact, merely a machine of state, to subscribe
the name of a king to the acts of the Government, which, to avoid danger,
have no value unless countersigned by the Prince Royal; for he is allowed
to be absolutely aim idiot, excepting that now and then an observation or
trick escapes him, which looks more like madness than imbecility.

What a farce is life. This effigy of majesty is allowed to burn down to
the socket, whilst the hapless Matilda was hurried into an untimely
grave.

"As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;
They kill us for their sport."

Adieu!

LETTER XIX.

Business having obliged me to go a few miles out of town this morning I
was surprised at meeting a crowd of people of every description, and
inquiring the cause of a servant, who spoke French, I was informed th