It was of course the subject which evoked such enormous acclaim, for the very name of Brutus was one to conjure with where the radical youth of Paris was concerned. Wherever speeches on the new political conceptions were made there was mention of the name of Rome’s deliverer from the yoke of Caesar, and from Mirabeau to Danton the people loved to connect the name of Brutus with their heroes. Even the opponents of the revolution believed themselves to be inspired by him. When Charlotte Corday murdered David’s friend Marat, she declared in prison that she hoped to meet Brutus in Elysium. This veneration for antiquity, which was characteristic of the revolutionary period, was greatly fostered by David’s classical compositions. [Illustration: FIG. 11. MICHEL GÉRARD AND HIS FAMILY (1789) _Museum, Le Mans_] The narrative of the German writer Halem,[4] who visited Paris the first year of the revolution, and attended some theatrical presentations, tells us vividly how familiar the populace was with David’s painting. He attended a performance of the “Brutus” of Voltaire, at the National Theater, and relates that although he got to the Box Office at five o’clock in the afternoon, he had the utmost difficulty in obtaining a seat. He writes, “Mirabeau stood near me at the ticket office and because of his celebrity was given a place in the fourth balcony. I followed him through the crowd as best I could and managed to get a chair in a rented loge. Mirabeau’s entrance was received with thunderous applause and cries of ‘To the gallery, Mirabeau.’ As he did not respond a deputation waited on him, the spokesman saying, ‘The French nation demands its Brutus.’ He had to give in, and was borne away to be received in the gallery with rapturous applause. What a triumph when later Valerius’ words to Brutus, ‘On you alone all eyes here are turned, ‘You who broke our chains and gave us the gift of freedom,’ were addressed pointedly to him. At the end of the play I was amazed to see David’s painting of Brutus reproduced on the stage. In speaking Brutus’ last words with which the play closes: ‘Rome now is free. That is enough. The gods be thanked,’ Vanhove, the leading actor, assumed the pose of David’s Brutus, and the bodies of his sons were borne across the back of the stage. Every Parisian knows David’s picture. Everyone instantly recognized the intention of publicly honoring the artist through this presentation, and general applause heightened the celebration.” So reads the narrative.