The personal kindness of the late King Frederick VII, who courteously received me at his castle of Fredericksborg, through the special presentation of Colonel Raslof (more recently the Danish Minister at Washington); the hospitalities of many of the principal citizens of Copenhagen; the visits to the tomb and museum of the works of Thorwaldsen, and to the room in which the immortal Oersted made his brilliant electro-magnetic discovery; the casual and accidental introduction and interview with a daughter of Oersted,—­all created a train of reflection which prompted me to devise some suitable mode of showing to these hospitable people my appreciation of their friendly attentions, and I proposed to myself the presentation to His Majesty the King of Denmark of this portrait of Thorwaldsen, for which he sat to me in Rome, and with which I knew he was specially pleased.

My desire to accomplish this purpose was further strengthened by the additional attention of the King at a later period in sending me the decoration of his order of the Danebrog.  From the moment this purpose was formed, twelve years ago, I have been desirous of obtaining this portrait, and watching for the opportunity of possessing it again.

Here follows a detailed account of the circumstances of the painting of the portrait and of its disappearance, with which we are familiar, and he closes by saying:—­

“This brief history will show you, my dear sir, what a boon you have conferred upon me.  Indeed, it seems like a dream, and if my most cordial thanks, not merely for the gift, but for the graceful and generous manner in which it has been offered, is any compensation, you may be sure they are yours.

“These are no conventional words, but they come from a heart that can gratefully appreciate the noble sentiments which have prompted your generous act.”

Returning from this little excursion into later years, I shall take up the narrative again as revealed in the notebooks.  While occasionally visiting the opera and the theatre, Morse does not altogether approve of them, and, on September 21, he indulges in the following reflections on them and on the social evil:—­

“No females of openly dissolute character were seen, such as occupy particular parts of the theatre in England and America.  Indeed, they never appear on the streets of Rome in that unblushing manner as in London, and even in New York and Philadelphia.  It must not from hence be inferred that vice is less frequent here than elsewhere; there is enough of it, but it is carried on in secret; it is deeper and preys more on the vitals of society than with us.  This vice with us, like a humor on the skin, deforms the surface, but here it infects the very heart; the whole system is affected; it is rotten to the core.

“Theatres here and with us are different institutions.  Here, where thousands for want of thought, or rather matter for thought, would die of ennui, where it is an object to escape from home and even from one’s self, the theatre serves the purpose of a momentary excitement.  A new piece, a new performer, furnishes matter for conversation and turns off the mind from the discussion of points of theology or politics.  The theatre is therefore encouraged by the Government and is guarded against the abuses of popular assemblage by strong military guards.