r Dowling, who was on his left, whilst I stood on his
right hand; and except for his frightful agitation, he was as passive
as a child. Little was said to him. General Gascoigne on coming up,
and getting a glance through the surrounding spectators, observed that
he knew him at Liverpool, and asked if his name was Bellingham, to
which he returned no answer; but the papers rendered further question
on this point unnecessary. Mr Lynn, a surgeon in Great George Street,
adjacent, had been hastily sent for, and found life quite extinct, the
ball having entered in a slanting direction from the hand of the tall
assassin, and passed into his victim's heart. Some one came out of the
room with this intelligence, and said to Bellingham: "Mr Perceval is
dead! Villain! how could you destroy so good a man, and make a family
of twelve children orphans?" To which he almost mournfully replied: "I
am sorry for it." Other observations and questions were addressed to
him by bystanders; in answer to which he spoke incoherently,
mentioning the wrongs he had suffered from government, and justifying
his revenge on grounds similar to those he used, at length, in his
defence at the Old Bailey.

'I have alluded to Bellingham's "frightful agitation" as he sat on the
bench, and all this dreadful work was going on; and I return to it, to
describe it as far as words can convey an idea of the shocking
spectacle. I could only imagine something like it in the overwrought
painting of a powerful romance-writer, but never before could conceive
the physical suffering of a strong muscular man, under the tortures of
a distracted mind. Whilst his language was cool, the agonies which
shook his frame were actually terrible. His countenance wore the hue
of the grave, blue and cadaverous; huge drops of sweat ran down from
his forehead, like rain on the window-pane in a heavy storm, and,
coursing his pallid cheeks, fell upon his person, where their moisture
was distinctly visible; and from the bottom of his chest to his gorge,
rose and receded, with almost every breath, a spasmodic action, as if
a body, as large or larger than a billiard-ball, were choking him. The
miserable wretch repeatedly struck his chest with the palm of his hand
to abate this sensation, but it refused to be repressed.'

Our author makes a curious remark on the case--namely, that the first
examinations are calculated to give the future historian a more
faithful idea of the transaction than the