“Last night I had an opportunity of studying the public mind.  It was at the theatre; the play was ‘Venice Preserved; or, the Plot Discovered.’  If you will take the trouble just to read the first act you will see what relation it has to the present state of affairs.  When Pierre says to Jaffier, ‘Cans’t thou kill a Senator?’ there were three cheers, and so through the whole, whenever anything was said concerning conspiracy and in favor of it, the audience applauded, and when anything was said against it they hissed.  When Pierre asked the conspirators if Brutus was not a good man, the audience was in a great uproar, applauding so as to prevent for some minutes the progress of the performance.  This I think shows the public mind to be in great agitation.  The play of ’Venice Preserved’ is not a moral play, and I should not ask you to read any part of it if I could better explain to you the feelings of the public.”

A few days later, on May 17, he says in a letter to his brothers:—­

“The assassin Bellingham was immediately taken into custody.  He was tried on Friday and condemned to be executed to-morrow morning (Monday, 18th).  I shall go to the place to see the concourse of people, for to see him executed I know I could not bear.”

In a postscript written the day after he says:—­

“I went this morning to the execution.  A very violent rain prevented so great a crowd as was expected.  A few minutes before eight o’clock Bellingham ascended the scaffold.  He was very genteelly dressed; he bowed to the crowd, who cried out, ‘God bless you,’ repeatedly.  I saw him draw the cap over his face and shake hands with the clergyman.  I stayed no longer, but immediately turned my back and was returning home.  I had taken but a few steps when the clock struck eight, and, on turning back, I saw the crowd beginning to disperse.  I have felt the effects of this sight all day, and shall probably not get over it for weeks.  It was a dreadful sight.  There were no accidents.”

In spite of all these momentous occurrences, the young artist was faithfully pursuing his studies, for in this same letter to his brothers he says:—­

“But enough of this; you will probably hear the whole account before this reaches you.  I am wholly absorbed in the studies of my profession; it is a slow and arduous undertaking.  I never knew till now the difficulties of art, and no one can duly appreciate it unless he has tried it.  Difficulties, however, only increase my ardor and make me more determined than ever to conquer them.

“Mr. West is very kind to me; I visit him occasionally of a morning to hear him converse on art.  He appears quite attached to me, as he is, indeed, to all young American artists.  It seems to give him the greatest pleasure to think that one day the arts will flourish in America.  He says that Philadelphia will be the Athens of the world.  That city certainly gives the greatest encouragement of any place in the United States.  Boston is most backward, so, if ever I should return to America, Philadelphia or New York would probably be my place of abode.