"By the way, I digress a little to inform you how I got my segars on shore. When we first went ashore I filled my pockets and hat as full as I could and left the rest in the top of my trunk intending to come and get them immediately. I came back and took another pocket load and left about eight or nine dozen on the top of my clothes. I went up into the city again and forgot the remainder until it was too late either to take them out or hide them under the clothes. So I waited trembling (for contraband goods subject the whole trunk to seizure), but the custom-house officer, being very good-natured and clever, saw them and took them up. I told him they were only for my own smoking and there were so few that they were not worth seizing. 'Oh,' says he, 'I shan't touch them; I won't know they are here,' and then shut down the trunk again. As he smoked, I gave him a couple of dozen for his kindness."

What a curious commentary on human nature it is that even the most pious, up to our own time, can see no harm in smuggling and bribery. And, as another instance of how the standards of right and wrong change with the changing years, further on in this same letter to his strict and pious parents young Morse says:—

"I have just received letters and papers from you by the Galen which has arrived. I was glad to see American papers again. I see by them that the lottery is done drawing. How has my ticket turned out? If the weight will not be too great for one shipload, I wish you would send the money by the next vessel."

The lottery was for the benefit of Harvard College.

"September 3, 1811. I have finished a drawing which I intended to offer at the Academy for admission. Mr. Allston told me it would undoubtedly admit me, as it was better than two thirds of those generally offered, but advised me to draw another and remedy some defects in handling the chalks (to which I am not at all accustomed), and he says I shall enter with some eclat. I showed it to Mr. West and he told me it was an extraordinary production, that I had talent, and only wanted knowledge of the art to make a great painter."

In a letter to his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis, dated September 17, 1811, he says:—

"I was astonished to find such a difference in the encouragement of art between this country and America. In America it seemed to lie neglected, and only thought to be an employment suited to a lower class of people; but here it is the constant subject of conversation, and the exhibitions of the several painters are fashionable resorts. No person is esteemed accomplished or well educated unless he possesses almost an enthusiastic love for paintings. To possess a gallery of pictures is the pride of every nobleman, and they seem to vie with each other in possessing the most choice and most numerous collection.... I visited Mr. Copley a few days since. He is very old and infirm. I think his age is upward of seventy, nearly the age of Mr. West. His powers of mind have almost entirely left him; his late paintings are miserable; it is really a lamentable thing that a man should outlive his faculties. He has been a first-rate painter, as you well know. I saw at his room some exquisite pieces which he painted twenty or thirty years ago, but his paintings of the last four or five years are very bad. He was very pleasant, however, and agreeable in his manners.

"Mr. West I visit now and then. He is very liberal to me and gives me every encouragement. He is a very friendly man; he talked with me like a father and wished me to call and see him often and be intimate with him. Age, instead of impairing his faculties, seems rather to have strengthened them, as his last great piece testifies. He is soon coming out with another which Mr. Allston thinks will far surpass even this last. The subject is Christ before Pilate.

"I went last week to Burlington House in Piccadilly, about forty-five minutes' walk, the residence of Lord Elgin, to see some of the ruins of Athens. Lord Elgin has been at an immense expense in transporting the great collection of splendid ruins, among them some of the original statues of Phidias, the celebrated ancient sculptor. They are very much mutilated, however, and impaired by time; still there was enough remaining to show the inferiority of all subsequent sculpture. Even those celebrated works, the Apollo Belvedere, Venus di Medicis, and the rest of those noble statues, must yield to them....

"The cries of London, of which you have doubtless heard, are very annoying to me, as indeed they are to all strangers. The noise of them is constantly in one's ears from morning till midnight, and, with the exception of one or two, they all appear to be the cries of distress. I don't know how many times I have run to the window expecting to see some poor creature in the agonies of death, but found, to my surprise, that it was only an old woman crying 'Fardin' apples,' or something of the kind. Hogarth's picture of the enraged musician will give you an excellent idea of the noise I hear every day under my windows....

"There is a singular custom with respect to knocking at the doors of houses here which is strictly adhered to. A servant belonging to the house rings the bell only; a strange servant knocks once; a market man or woman knocks once and rings; the penny post knocks twice; and a gentleman or lady half a dozen quick knocks, or any number over two. A nobleman generally knocks eight or ten tunes very loud.

"The accounts lately received from America look rather gloomy. They are thought here to wear a more threatening aspect than they have heretofore done. From my own observation and opportunity of hearing the opinion of the people generally, they are extremely desirous of an amicable adjustment of differences, and seem as much opposed to the idea of war as the better part of the American people....

"In this letter you will perceive all the variety of feeling which I have had for a fortnight past; sometimes in very low, sometimes in very high spirits, and sometimes a balance of each; which latter, though very desirable, I seldom have, but generally am at one extreme or the other. I wrote this in the evenings of the last two weeks, and this will account, and I hope apologize, for its great want of connection."

In a long letter to a friend, dated September 17, 1811, he thus describes some of the sights of London:—

"A few days since I walked about four miles out of town to a village of the name of Hackney to witness the ascension of a Mr. Sadler and another gentleman in a balloon. It was a very grand sight, and the next day the aeronauts returned to Hackney, having gone nearly fifty miles in about an hour and a half. The number of people who attended on this occasion might be fairly estimated at 300,000, such a concourse as I never before witnessed.

"When the balloon was out of sight the crowd began to return home, and such a confusion it is almost impossible for me to describe. A gang of pickpockets had contrived to block up the way, which was across a bridge, with carriages and carts, etc., and as soon as the people began to move it created such an obstruction that, in a few moments, this great crowd, in the midst of which I had unfortunately got, was stopped. This gave the pickpockets an opportunity and the people were plundered to a great amount.

"I was detained in this manner, almost suffocated, in a great shower of rain, for about an hour, and, what added to the misery of the scene, there were a great many women and children crying and screaming in all directions, and no one able to assist them, not even having a finger at liberty, they were wedged in in such a manner. I had often heard of the danger of a London crowd, but never before experienced it, and I think once is amply sufficient and shall rest satisfied with it.

"A few evenings since I visited the celebrated Vauxhall Gardens, of which you have doubtless often heard. I must say they far exceeded my expectations; I never before had an idea of such splendor. The moment I went in I was almost struck blind with the blaze of light proceeding from thousands of lamps and those of every color.

"In the midst of the gardens stands the orchestra box in the form of a large temple and most beautifully illuminated. In this the principal band of music is placed. At a little distance is another smaller temple in which is placed the Turkish band. On one side of the gardens you enter two splendid saloons illuminated in the same brilliant manner. In one of them the Pandean band is placed, and in the other the Scotch band. All around the gardens is a walk with a covered top, but opening on the sides under curtains in festoons, and these form the most splendid illuminated part of the whole gardens. The amusements of the evening are music, waterworks, fireworks, and dancing.

"The principal band plays till about ten o'clock, when a little bell is rung, and the whole concourse of people (the greater part of which are females) run to a dark part of the gardens where there is an admirable deception of waterworks. A bridge is seen over which stages and wagons, men and horses, are seen passing; birds flying across and the water in great cataracts falling down from the mountains and passing over smaller falls under the bridges; men are seen rowing a boat across, and, indeed, everything which could be devised in such an exhibition was performed.

"This continues for about fifteen minutes, when they all return into the illuminated part of the gardens and are amused by music from the same orchestra till eleven o'clock. They then are called away again to the dark part of the gardens, where is an exhibition of the most splendid fireworks; sky-rockets, serpents, wheels, and fountains of fire in the greatest abundance, occupying twenty minutes more of the time.

"After this exhibition is closed, they again return into the illuminated parts of the gardens, where the music strikes up from the chief orchestra, and hundreds of groups are immediately formed for dancing. Respectable ladies, however, seldom join in this dance, although gentlemen of the first distinction sometimes for amusement lend a hand, or rather a foot, to the general cheerfulness.

"All now is gayety throughout the gardens; every one is in motion, and care, that bane of human happiness, for a time seems to have lost her dominion over the human heart. Had the Eastern sage, who was in search of the land of happiness, at this moment been introduced into Vauxhall, I think his most exalted conceptions of happiness would have been surpassed, and he would rest contented in having at last found the object of his wishes.

"In a few minutes the chief orchestra ceases and is relieved in turn by the other bands, the company following the music. The Scotch band principally plays Scotch reels and dances. The music and this course of dancing continue till about four o'clock in the morning, when the lights are extinguished and the company disperses. On this evening, which was by no means considered as a full night, the company consisted of perhaps three thousand persons.

"I had the pleasure a few days since of witnessing one of the oddest exhibitions, perhaps, in the world. It was no other than St. Bartholomew's Fair. It is held here in London once a year and continues three days. There is a ceremony in opening it by the Lord Mayor, which I did not see. At this fair the lower orders of society are let loose and allowed to amuse themselves in any lawful way they please. The fair is held in Smithfield Market, about the centre of the city. The principal amusement appeared to be swinging. There were large boxes capable of holding five or six suspended in large frames in such manner as to vibrate nearly through a semicircle. There were, to speak within bounds, three hundred of these. They were placed all round the square, and it almost made me giddy only to see them all in motion. They were so much pressed for room that one of these swings would clear another but about two inches, and it seemed almost miraculous to me that they did not meet with more accidents than they did.

"Another amusement were large wheels, about thirty or forty feet in diameter, on the circumference of which were four and sometimes six boxes capable of holding four persons. These are set in slow motion, and they gradually rise to the top of the wheel and as gradually descend and so on in succession. There were various other machines on the same principle which I have not time to describe.

"In the centre of the square was an assemblage of everything in the world; theatres, wild beasts, lusus naturoe, mountebanks, buffoons, dancers on the slack wire, fighting and swearing, pocket-picking and stealing, music and dancing, and hubbub and confusion in every confused shape.

"The theatres are worth describing; they are temporary buildings put up and ornamented very richly on the exteriors to attract attention, while the interiors, like many persons' heads, are but very poorly furnished. Strolling companies of players occupy these, and between the plays the actors and actresses exhibit themselves on a stage before the theatre in all their spangled robes and false jewels, and strut and flourish about till the theatre is filled.

"Then they go in and turn, perhaps, a very serious tragedy into one of the most ridiculous farces. They occupy about fifteen minutes in reciting a play and then a fresh audience is collected, and so they proceed through the three days and nights, so that the poor actors and actresses are killed about fifty times in the course of a day.

"A person who goes into one of these theatres must not expect to hear a syllable of the tragedy. If he can look upon the stage it is as much as he can expect, for there is such a confused noise without of drums and fifes, clarionets, bassoons, hautboys, triangles, fiddles, bass-viols, and, in short, every possible instrument that can make a noise, that if a person gets safe from the fair without the total loss of his hearing for three weeks he may consider himself fortunate. Contiguous to the theatres are the exhibition rooms of the jugglers and buffoons, who also between their exhibitions display their tricks on stages before the populace, and show as many antics as so many monkeys. But were I to attempt a description of everything I saw at Bartholomew Fair my letter, instead of being a few sheets, would swell to as many quires; so I must close it.

"I shall probably soon witness an exhibition of a more interesting nature; I mean a coronation. The King is now so very low that he cannot survive more than a week or two longer, and immediately on his death the ceremony of the coronation takes place. If I should see it I shall certainly describe it to you."

The King, George III, did not, however, die until 1820.

In a letter of September 20 to his parents he says: "I endeavor to be as economical as possible and am getting into the habit very fast. It must be learned by degrees. I shall not say, as Salmagundi says,—'I shall spare no expense in discovering the most economical way of spending money,' but shall endeavor to practise it immediately."

"September 24, 1811. You will see by the papers which accompany this what a report respecting the capture of the U.S. frigate President by Melampus frigate prevails here. It is sufficient to say it is not in the least credited.

"In case of war I shall be ordered out of the country. If so, instead of returning home, had I not better go to Paris, as it is cheaper living there even than in London, and there are great advantages there? I only ask the question in case of war.... I am going on swimmingly. Next week on Monday the Royal Academy opens and I shall present my drawing."

"October 21, 1811. I wrote you by the Galen about three weeks ago and have this moment heard she was still in the Downs. I was really provoked. There is great deception about vessels; they advertise for a certain day and perhaps do not sail under a month after. The Galen has been going and going till I am sick of hearing she hasn't gone."

"November 6, 1811. After leaving this letter so long, as you see by the different dates, I again resume it. Perhaps you will be surprised when I tell you that but yesterday I heard that the Galen is still wind-bound. It makes my letters which are on board of her about five or six weeks old, besides the prospect of a long voyage. However it is not her fault. There are three or four hundred vessels in the same predicament. The wind has been such that it has been impossible for any of them to get under weigh; but I must confess I feel considerably anxious on your account....

"I mentioned in one of my other letters that I had drawn a figure (the Gladiator) to admit me into the Academy. After I had finished it I was displeased with it, and concluded not to offer it, but to attempt another. I have accordingly drawn another from the Laocoon statue, the most difficult of all the statues; have shown it to, the keeper of the Academy and am admitted for a year without the least difficulty. Mr. Allston was pleased to compliment me upon it by saying that it was better than two thirds of the drawings of those who had been drawing at the Academy for two years."

"November 85, 1811. I mentioned in my last letter that I had entered the Royal Academy, which information I hope will give you pleasure. I now employ my days in painting at home and in the evenings in drawing at the Academy as is customary. I have finished a landscape and almost finished a copy of a portrait which Mr. West lent me. Mr. Allston has seen it and complimented me by saying it was just a hundred tunes better than he had any idea I could do, and that I should astonish Mr. West very much. I have also begun a landscape, a morning scene at sunrise, which Mr. Allston is very much pleased with. All these things encourage me, and, as every day passes away, I feel increased enthusiasm....

"Distresses are increasing in this country, and disturbances, riots, etc., have commenced as you will see by the papers which accompany this. They are considered very alarming."

"December 1, 1811. I am pursuing my studies with increased enthusiasm, and hope, before the three years are out, to relieve you from further expense on my account. Mr. Allston encourages me to think thus from the rapid improvement he says I have made. You may rest assured I shall use all my endeavors to do it as soon as may be....

"This country appears to me to be in a very bad state. I judge from the increasing disturbances at Nottingham, and more especially from the startling murders lately committed in this city.

"A few mornings since was published an account of the murder of a family consisting of four persons, and this moment there is another account of the murder of one consisting of three persons, making the twelfth murder committed in that part of the city within three months, and not one of the murderers as yet has been discovered, although a reward of more than seven hundred pounds has been offered for the discovery.

"The inhabitants are very much alarmed, and hereafter I shall sleep with pistols at the head of my bed, although there is little to apprehend in this part of the city. Still, as I find many of my acquaintance adopting that plan, I choose rather to be on the safe side and join with them."



CHAPTER IV

JANUARY 18, 1812—AUGUST 6. 1812

Political opinions.—Charles E. Leslie's reminiscences of Morse, Allston, King, and Coleridge.—C. B. King's letter.—Sidney E. Morse's letter.— Benjamin West's kindness.—Sir William Beechy.—Murders, robberies, etc. —Morse and Leslie paint each other's portraits.—The elder Morse's financial difficulties.—He deprecates the war talk.—The son differs with his father.—The Prince Regent.—Orders in Council.—Estimate of West.—Alarming state of affairs in England.—Assassination of Perceval, Prime Minister.—Execution of assassin.—Morse's love for his art.— Stephen Van Rensselaer.—Leslie the friend and Allston the master.— Afternoon tea.—The elder Morse well known in Europe.—Lord Castlereagh. —The Queen's drawing-room.—Kemble and Mrs. Siddons.—Zachary Macaulay. —Warning letter from his parents.—War declared.—Morse approves.— Gratitude to his parents, and to Allston.

The years from 1811 to 1815 which were passed by Morse in the study of his art in London are full of historical interest, for England and America were at war from 1812 to 1814, and the campaign of the allied European Powers against Napoleon Bonaparte culminated in Waterloo and the Treaty of Paris in 1815.

The young man took a deep interest in these affairs and expressed his opinions freely and forcibly in his letters to his parents. His father was a strong Federalist and bitterly deprecated the declaration of war by the United States. The son, on the contrary, from his point of vantage in the enemy's country saw things from a different point of view and stoutly upheld the wisdom, nay, the necessity, of the war. His parents and friends urged him to keep out of politics and to be discreet, and he seems, at any rate, to have followed their advice in the latter respect, for he was not in any way molested by the authorities.

At the same time he was making steady progress in his studies and making friends, both among the Americans who were his fellow students or artists of established reputation, and among distinguished Englishmen who were friends of his father.

Among the former was Charles R. Leslie, his room-mate and devoted friend, who afterwards became one of the best of the American painters of those days. In his autobiography Leslie says:—

"My new acquaintances Allston, King, and Morse were very kind, but still they were new acquaintances. I thought of the happy circle round my mother's fireside, and there were moments in which, but for my obligations to Mr. Bradford and my other kind patrons, I could have been content to forfeit all the advantages I expected from my visit to England and return immediately to America. The two years I was to remain in London seemed, in prospect, an age.

"Mr. Morse, who was but a year or two older than myself, and who had been in London but six months when I arrived, felt very much as I did and we agreed to take apartments together. For some time we painted in one room, he at one window and I at the other. We drew at the Royal Academy in the evening and worked at home in the day. Our mentors were Allston and King, nor could we have been better provided; Allston, a most amiable and polished gentleman, and a painter of the purest taste; and King, warm-hearted, sincere, sensible, prudent, and the strictest of economists.

"When Allston was suffering extreme depression of spirits after the loss of his wife, he was haunted during sleepless nights by horrid thoughts, and he told me that diabolical imprecations forced themselves into his mind. The distress of this to a man so sincerely religious as Allston may be imagined. He wished to consult Coleridge, but could not summon resolution. He desired, therefore, that I should do it, and I went to Highgate where Coleridge was at that time living with Mr. Gillman. I found him walking in the garden, his hat in his hand (as it generally was in the open air), for he told me that, having been one of the Bluecoat Boys, among whom it is the fashion to go bareheaded, he had acquired a dislike to any covering of the head.

"I explained the cause of my visit and he said: 'Allston should say to himself, "Nothing is me but my will. These thoughts, therefore, that force themselves on my mind are no part of me and there can be no guilt in them." If he will make a strong effort to become indifferent to their recurrence, they will either cease or cease to trouble him.'

"He said much more, but this was the substance, and, after it was repeated to Allston, I did not hear him again complain of the same kind of disturbance."

Mr. C.B. King, the other friend mentioned by Leslie, returned to America in 1812, and writes from Philadelphia, January 3, 1813:—

MY DEAR FRIENDS, This will be handed you by Mr. Payne, of Boston, who intends passing some time in England.... I have not been here sufficiently long to forget the delightful time when we could meet in the evening with novels, coffee, and music by Morse, with the conversation of that dear fellow Allston. The reflection that it will not again take place, comes across my mind accompanied with the same painful sensation as the thought that I must die.

That Morse was not forgotten by the good people at home is evidenced by a letter from his brother, Sidney Edwards, of January 18, 1812, part of which I transcribe:—

DEAR BROTHER,—I am sitting in the parlor in the armchair on the right of the fireplace, and, as I hold my paper in my hand, with my feet sprawled out before the fire, and with my body reclining in an oblique position against the back of the chair, I am penning you a letter such as it is, and for the inverted position of the letters of which I beg to apologize.

As I turn my eyes upward and opposite I behold the family picture painted by an ingenious artist who, I understand, is at present residing in London. If you are acquainted with him, give my love to him and my best wishes for his prosperity and success in the art to which, if report says true, he has devoted himself with much diligence.

Richard sits before me writing to you, and mama says (for I have just asked her the question) that she is engaged in the same business. Papa is upstairs very much engaged in the selfsame employment. Four right hands are at this instant writing to give you, at some future moment, the pleasure of perusing the products of their present labor. Four imaginations are now employed in conceiving of a son or a brother in a distant land. Therefore we may draw the conclusion that you are not universally forgotten, and consequently all do not forget you.

I have written you this long letter because I knew that you would be anxious for the information it contains; because papa told me I must write; because mama said I had better write; because I had nothing else to do, and because I hadn't time to write a shorter. I trust for these special reasons you will excuse me for this once, especially when you consider that you asked me to write you long letters; when you consider that it is my natural disposition to express my sentiments fully; that I commonly say most when I have least to say; that I promise reformation in future, and that you shall hereafter hear from me on this subject.

As to news, I am sorry to say we are entirely out. We sent you the last we had by the Sally Ann. We hope to get some ready by the time the next ship sails, and then we will furnish you with the best the country affords.

From a letter of January 30, 1812, to his parents I select the following passages:—

"On Tuesday last I dined at Mr. West's, who requested to be particularly remembered to you. He is extremely attentive and polite to me. He called on me a few days ago, which I consider a very marked attention as he keeps so confined that he seldom pays any visits....

"I have changed my lodgings to No. 82 in the same street [Great Titchfield Street], and have rooms with young Leslie of Philadelphia who has just arrived. He is very promising and a very agreeable room-mate. We are in the same stage of advancement in art.

"I have painted five pieces since I have been here, two landscapes and three portraits; one of myself, one a copy from Mr. West's copy from Vandyke, and the other a portrait of Mr. Leslie, who is also taking mine.... I called a day or two since on Sir William Beechy, an artist of great eminence, to see his paintings. They are beautiful beyond anything I ever imagined. His principal excellence is in coloring, which, to the many, is the most attractive part of art. Sir William is considered the best colorist now living.

"You may be apt to ask, 'If Sir William is so great and even the best, what is Mr. West's great excellence?' Mr. West is a bad colorist in general, but he excels in the grandeur of his thought. Mr. West is to painting what Milton is to poetry, and Sir William Beechy to Mr. West as Pope to Milton, so that by comparing, or rather illustrating the one art by the other, I can give you a better idea of the art of painting than in any other way. For as some poets excel in the different species of poetry and stand at the head of their different kinds, in the same manner do painters have their particular branch of their art; and as epic poetry excels all other kinds of poetry, because it addresses itself to the sublimer feelings of our nature, so does historical painting stand preeminent in our art, because it calls forth the same feelings. For poets' and painters' minds are the same, and I infer that painting is superior to poetry from this:—that the painter possesses with the poet a vigorous imagination, where the poet stops, while the painter exceeds him in the mechanical and very difficult part of the art, that of handling the pencil."

"I gave you a hint in letter number 12 and a particular account in number 13 of the horrid murders committed in this city. It has been pretty well ascertained from a variety of evidence that all of them have been committed by one man, who was apprehended and put an end to his life in prison. Very horrid attempts at robbery and murder have been very frequent of late in all parts of the city, and even so near as within two doors of me in the same street, but do not be alarmed, you have nothing to fear on my account. Leslie and myself sleep in the same room and sleep armed with a pair of pistols and a sword and alarms at our doors and windows, so we are safe on that score....

"In my next I shall give you some account of politics here and as it respects America. The Federalists are certainly wrong in very many things....

"P.S. I wish you would keep my letter in which I enumerate all my friends, and when I say, 'Give my love to my friends,' imagine I write them all over, and distribute it out to all as you think I ought, always particularizing Miss Russell, my patroness, my brothers, relations, and Mr. Brown and Nancy [his old nurse]. This will save me time, ink, trouble, and paper."

Concerning the portraits which Morse and Leslie were painting of each other, the following letter to Morse's mother, from a friend in Philadelphia and signed "R.W. Snow," will be found interesting:—

MY DEAR FRIEND,—I have this moment received a letter from Miss Vaughan in London, dated February 20, 1812, and, knowing the passage below would be interesting to you, I transcribe it with pleasure, and add my very sincere wish that all your hopes may be realized.

"Dr. Morse's son is considered a young man of very promising talents by Mr. Allston and Mr. West and by those who have seen his paintings. We have seen him and think his modesty and apparent amiableness promise as much happiness to his friends as his talents may procure distinction for himself. He is peculiarly fortunate, not only in having Mr. Allston for an adviser and friend, but in his companion in painting, Mr. Leslie, a young man from Philadelphia highly recommended by my uncle there, and whose extreme diffidence adds to the most promising talents the patient industry and desire of improvement which are necessary to bring them to perfection. They have been drawing each other's pictures. Mr. Leslie is in the Spanish costume and Mr. Morse in Highland dress. They are in an unfinished state, but striking resemblances."

This Highland lad, I hope, my dear friend, you will see, and in due time be again blessed with the interesting original.

At this time the good father was sore distressed financially. He was generous to a fault and had, by endorsing notes and giving to others, crippled his own means. He says in a letter to his son dated March 21, 1812:—

"The Parkman case remains yet undecided and I know not that it ever will be. There is a strange mystery surrounding the business which I am not able to unravel. The court is now in session in Boston which is expected to decide the case. In a few days we shall be able to determine what we have to expect from this case. If we lose it, your mother and I have made up our minds to sit down contented with the loss. I trust we shall be enabled to pay our honest debts without it and to support ourselves.

"As to you and your brothers, I trust, with your education, you will be able to maintain yourselves, and your parents, too, should they need it in their old age. Probably this necessity laid on you for exertion, industry, and economy in early life will be better for you in the end than to be supported by your parents. In nine cases out of ten those who begin the world with nothing are richer and more useful men in life than those who inherit a large estate....

"We have just heard from your brothers, who are well and in fine spirits. Edwards writes that he thinks of staying in New Haven another year and of pursuing general science, and afterwards of purchasing a plantation and becoming a planter in some one of the Southern States!! Perhaps he intends to marry some rich planter's daughter and to get his plantation and negroes in that way. This, I imagine, will be his only way to do it.

"The newspapers which I shall send with this will inform you of the state of our public affairs. We have high hopes that Governor Strong will be our governor next year. I have no belief that our war hawks will be able to involve the country in a war with Great Britain, nor do I believe that the President really wishes it. It is thought that all the war talk and preparations are intended to effect the reelection of Mr. Madison. The Henry Plot is a farce intended for the same purpose, but it can never be got up. It will operate against its promoters."

While the father was thus writing, on March 21, of the political conditions in America from his point of view, almost at the same moment the son in England was expressing himself as follows:—

"March 25, 1812. With respect to politics I know very little, my time being occupied with much pleasanter subjects. I, however, can answer your question whether party spirit is conducted with such virulence here as in America. It is by no means the case, for, although it is in some few instances very violent, still, for the most part, their debates are conducted with great coolness.

"As to the Prince Regent, you have, perhaps, heard how unpopular he has made himself. He has disappointed the expectations of very many. Among the most unpopular of his measures may be placed the retention of the Orders in Council, which orders, notwithstanding the declarations of Mr. Perceval [the Prime Minister] and others in the Ministry to the contrary, are fast, very fast reducing this country to ruin; and it is the opinion of some of the best politicians in this country that, should the United States either persist in the Non-Intercourse Law or declare war, this country would be reduced to the lowest extremity.[1]

[Footnote 1: Orders in Council were issued by the sovereign, with the advice of the Privy Council, in periods of emergency, trusting to their future ratification by Parliament. In this case, while promulgated as a retaliatory measure against Bonaparte's Continental System, they bore heavily upon the commerce of the United States.]

"Bankruptcies are daily increasing and petitions from all parts of the Kingdom, praying for the repeal of the Orders in Council, have been presented to the Prince, but he has declined hearing any of them. Also the Catholic cause remains undecided, and he refuses hearing anything on that subject. But no more of politics. I am sure you must have more than sufficient at home.

"I will turn to a more pleasant subject and give you a slight history of the American artists now in London.

"At the head stands Mr. West. He stands and has stood so long preeminent that I could relate but little of his history that would be new to you, so that I shall confine myself only to what has fallen under my own observation, and, of course, my remarks will be few.

"As a painter Mr. West can be accused of as few faults as any artist of ancient or modern times. In his studies he has been indefatigable, and the result of those studies is a perfect knowledge of the philosophy of his art. There is not a line or a touch in his pictures which he cannot account for on philosophical principles. They are not the productions of accident, but of study.

"His principal excellence is considered composition, design, and elegant grouping; and his faults were said to be a hard and harsh outline and bad coloring. These faults he has of late in a great degree amended. His outline is softer and his coloring, in some pictures in which he has attempted truth of color, is not surpassed by any artist now living, and some have even said that Titian himself did not surpass it. However that may be, his pictures of a late date are admirable even in this particular, and it evinces that, if in general he neglected that fascinating branch of art in some of his paintings, he still possesses a perfect knowledge of all its artifices. He has just completed a picture, an historical landscape, which, for clearness of coloring combined with grandeur of composition, has never been excelled.

"In his private character he is unimpeachable. He is a man of tender feelings, but of a mind so noble that it soars above the slanders of his enemies, and he expresses pity rather than revenge towards those who, through wantonness or malice, plan to undermine his character. No man, perhaps, ever passed through so much abuse, and none, I am confident, ever bore up against its virulence with more nobleness of spirit, with a steady perseverance in the pursuit of the sublimest of human professions. He has travelled on heedless of the sneers, the ridicule, or the detraction of his enemies, and he has arrived at that point where the lustre of his works will not fail to illuminate the dark regions of barbarism and distaste long after their bright author has ceased to exist.

"Excuse my fervor in the praise of this man. He is not a common man, not such a one as can be met with in every age. He is one of those geniuses who are doomed in their lifetime to endure the malice, the ridicule, and neglect of the world, and at their death to receive the praise and adoration of this same inconsistent world. I think there cannot be a stronger proof that human nature is always the same than that men of genius in all ages have been compelled to undergo the same disappointments and to pass through the same routine of calumny and abuse."

The rest of this letter is missing, which is a great pity, as it would be interesting to read what Morse had to say of Allston, Leslie, and the others.

Was it a presentiment of the calumnies and abuse to which he himself was to be subjected in after life which led him to express himself so heartily in sympathy with his master West? And was it the inspiring remembrance of his master's calm bearing under these afflictions which heartened him to maintain a noble serenity under even greater provocation?

"April 21, 1812. I mentioned in my last letter that I should probably exceed my allowance this year by a few pounds, but I now begin to think that I shall not. I am trying every method to be economical and hope it will not be long before I shall relieve you from further expense on my account....

"With respect to politics they appear gloomy on both sides.... You may depend on it. England has injured us sorely and our Non-Intercourse is a just retaliation for those wrongs. Perhaps you will believe what is said in some of the Federal papers that that measure has no effect on this country. You may be assured the effects are great and severe; I am myself an eye-witness of the effects. The country is in a state of rebellion from literal starvation. Accounts are daily received which grow more and more alarming from the great manufacturing towns. Troops are in motion all over the country, and but last week measures were adopted by Parliament to prevent this metropolis from rising to rebellion, by ordering troops to be stationed round the city to be ready at a moment's warning. This I call an alarming period. Everybody thinks so and Mr. Perceval himself is frightened, and a committee is appointed to take into consideration the Orders in Council. Now, when you consider that I came to this country prejudiced against our government and its measures, and that I can have no bad motive in telling you these facts, you will not think hard of me when I say that I hope that our Non-Intercourse Law will be enforced with all its rigor, as I firmly believe it is the only way to bring this country to terms, and that, if persisted in, it will certainly bring them to terms. I know it must make some misery at home, but it will be followed by a corresponding happiness after it. Some of you at home, I suppose, will call me a Democrat, but facts are stubborn things, and I can't deny the truth of what I see every day before my eyes. A man to judge properly of his country must, like judging of a picture, view it at a distance."

"May 12, 1812. I write in great haste to inform you of a dreadful event which happened here last evening, and rumors of which will probably reach you before this. Not to keep you in suspense it is no less than the assassination of Mr. Perceval, the Prime Minister of Great Britain. As he was entering the House of Commons last evening a little past five o'clock, he was shot directly through the heart by a man from behind the door. He staggered forward and fell, and expired in about ten minutes....

"I have just returned from the House of Commons; there was an immense crowd assembled and very riotous. In the hall was written in large letters, 'Peace or the Head of the Regent.' This country is in a very alarming state and there is no doubt but great quantities of blood will be spilled before it is restored to order. Even while I am writing a party of Life Guards is patrolling the streets. London must soon be the scene of dreadful events.

"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.

"I have just seen Mr. Stephen Van Rensselaer, who you know was at college with us, and with whom I was intimate. He was very glad to see me and calls on me every day while I am painting. He keeps his carriage and horses and is in the first circles here. I ride out occasionally with him; shall begin his portrait next week."

Like a breath of fresh air, in all the heat and dust of these troublous times, comes this request from his gentle mother in a letter of May 8, 1812:—

"Miss C. Dexter requests the favor of you to take a sketch of the face of Mr. Southey and send it her. He is a favorite writer with her and she has a great desire to see the style of his countenance. If you can get it, enclose it in a genteel note to her with a brief account of him, his age and character, etc."

The next letter of May 25, 1812, is from Morse to his parents.

"I have told you in former letters that my lodgings are at 82 Great Titchfield Street and that my room-mate is Leslie, the young man who is so much talked of in Philadelphia. We have lived together since December and have not, as yet, had a falling out. I find his thoughts of art agree perfectly with my own. He is enthusiastic and so am I, and we have not time, scarcely, to think of anything else; everything we do has a reference to art, and all our plans are for our mutual advancement in it. Our amusements are walking, occasionally attending the theatres, and the company of Mr. Allston and a few other gentlemen, consisting of three or four painters and poets. We meet by turn at each other's rooms and converse and laugh.

"Mr. Allston is our most intimate friend and companion. I can't feel too grateful to Him for his attentions to me; he calls every day and superintends all we are doing. When I am at a stand and perplexed in some parts of the picture, he puts me right and encourages me to proceed by praising those parts which he thinks good, but he is faithful and always tells me when anything is bad.

"It is a mortifying thing sometimes to me, when I have been painting all day very hard and begin to be pleased with what I have done, on showing it to Mr. Allston, with the expectation of praise, and not only of praise but a score of 'excellents,' 'well dones,' and 'admirables'; I say it is mortifying to hear him after a long silence say: 'Very bad, sir; that is not flesh, it is mud, sir; it is painted with brick dust and clay.'

"I have felt sometimes ready to dash my palette knife through it and to feel at the moment quite angry with him; but a little reflection restores me; I see that Mr. Allston is not a flatterer but a friend, and that really to improve I must see my faults. What he says after this always puts me in good humor again. He tells me to put a few flesh tints here, a few gray ones there, and to clear up such and such a part by such and such colors. And not only that, but takes the palette and brushes and shows me how, and in this way he assists me. I think it one of the greatest blessings that I am under his eye. I don't know how many errors I might have fallen into if it had not been for his attentions....

"I am painting portraits alone at present. Our sitters are among our acquaintances. We paint them if they defray the expense of canvas and colors...."

"Mama wished me to send some specimens of my painting home that you might see my improvement. The pictures that I now paint would be uninteresting to you; they consist merely of studies and drawings from plaster figures, hands and feet and such things. The portraits are taken by those for whom they are painted. I shall soon begin a portrait of myself and will try and send that to you."

"June 8, 1812. Mama asks in one of her letters if we make our own tea. We do. The tea-kettle is brought to us boiling in the morning and evening and we make our own coffee (which, by the way, is very cheap here) and tea. We live quite in the old bachelor style. I don't know but it will be best for me to live in this style through life; my profession seems to require all my time.

"Mr. Hurd will take a diploma to you, with others to different persons near Boston. I suppose it confers some title on you of consequence, as I saw at his house a great number to be sent to all parts of the world to distinguished men. I find papa is known here pretty extensively. Some one, hearing my name and that I am an American, immediately asks if I am related to you....

"The Administration is at length formed, and, to the great sorrow of everybody, the old Ministers are reelected. The Orders in Council are the subject of debate at the House of Commons this evening. It is an important crisis, though there is scarcely any hope of their repeal. If not, I sincerely hope that America will declare war.

"What Lord Castlereagh said at a public meeting a few days ago ought to be known in America. Respecting the Orders in Council, when some one said unless they were repealed war with America must be the consequence, he replied that, 'if the people would but support the Ministry in those measures for a short time, America would be compelled to submit, for she was not able to go to war.' But I say, and so does every American here who sees how things are going with this country, that, should America but declare war, before hostilities commenced Great Britain would sue for peace on any terms. Great Britain is jealous of us and would trample on us if she could, and I feel ashamed when I see her supported through everything by some of the Federal editors. I wish they could be here a few months and they would be ashamed of themselves. They are injuring their country, for it is their violence that induces this Government to persist in their measures by holding out hope that the parties will change, and that then they can compel America to do anything. If America loses in this contest and softens her measures towards this country, she never need expect to hold up her head again."

"June 15, 1812. The Queen held a drawing-room a short time since and I went to St. James's Palace to see those who attended. It was a singular sight to see the ladies and gentlemen in their court dresses. The gentlemen were dressed in buckram skirted coats without capes, long waistcoats, cocked hats, bag-wigs, swords, and large buckles on their shoes. The ladies in monstrous hoops, so that in getting into their carriages they were obliged to go edgewise. Their dresses were very rich; some ladies, I suppose, had about them to adorn them L20,000 or L30,000 worth of diamonds."

"I had a sight of the Prince Regent as he passed in his splendid state carriage drawn by six horses. He is very corpulent, his features are good, but he is very red and considerably bloated. I likewise saw the Princess Charlotte of Wales, who is handsome, the Dukes of Kent, Cambridge, Clarence, and Cumberland, Admiral Duckworth, and many others. The Prince held a levee a few days since at which Mr. Van Rensselaer was presented."

"I occasionally attend the theatres. At Covent Garden there is the best acting in the world; Mr. Kemble is the first tragic actor now in England; Cook was a rival and excelled him in some characters. Mrs. Siddons is the first tragic actress, perhaps, that ever lived. She is now advanced in life and is about to retire from the stage; on the 29th of this month she makes her last appearance. I must say I admire her acting very much; she is rather corpulent, but has a remarkably fine face; the Grecian character is finely portrayed in it; she excels to admiration in deep tragedy. In Mrs. Beverly, in the play of the 'Gamesters' a few nights ago, she so arrested the attention of the house that you might hear your watch tick in your fob, and, at the close of the play, when she utters an hysteric laugh for joy that her husband was not a murderer, there were different ladies in the boxes who actually went into hysterics and were obliged to be carried out of the theatre. This I think is proof of good acting. Mrs. Siddons is a woman of irreproachable character and moves in the first circles; the stage will never again see her equal.

"You mustn't think because I praise the acting that I am partial to theatres. I think in a certain degree they are harmless, but, too much attended, they dissipate the mind. There is no danger of my loving them too much; I like to go once in awhile after studying hard all day.

"Last night, as I was passing through Tottenham Court Road, I saw a large collection of people of the lower class making a most terrible noise by beating on something of the sounding genus. Upon going nearer and enquiring the cause, I found that a butcher had just been married, and that it is always the custom on such occasions for his brethren by trade to serenade the couple with marrow-bones and cleavers. Perhaps you have heard of the phrase 'musical as marrow-bones and cleavers'; this is the origin of it. If you wish to experience the sound let each one in the family take a pair of tongs and a shovel, and then, standing all together, let each one try to outdo the other in noise, and this will give you some idea of it. How this custom originated I don't know. I hope it is not symbolical of the harmony which is to exist between the parties married."

Among those eminent Englishmen to whom young Morse had letters of introduction was Zachary Macaulay, editor of the "Christian Observer," and father of the historian. The following note from him will be found of a delightful old-time flavor:—

Mr. Macaulay presents his compliments to Mr. Morse and begs to express his regret at not having yet been so fortunate as to meet with him. Mr. Macaulay will be particularly happy if it should suit Mr. Morse to dine with him at his house at Clapham on Saturday next at five o'clock. Mr. M.'s house is five doors beyond the Plough at the entrance of Clapham Common. A coach goes daily to Clapham from the Ship at Charing Cross at a quarter past three, and several leave Grace Church Street in the City every day at four. The distance from London Bridge to Mr. Macaulay's house is about four miles.

23d June, 1812.

In a letter from his mother of June 28, 1812, the anxious parent says:—

"Although we long to see you, yet we rejoice that you are so happily situated at so great a distance from our, at present, wretched, miserably distracted country, whose mad rulers are plunging us into an unnecessary war with a country that I shall always revere as doing more to spread the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ to the benighted heathen, and those that are famishing from lack of knowledge, than any other nation on the globe. Our hearts bleed at every pore to think of again being at war. We have not yet forgotten the wormwood and gall of the last revolution.

"We hope you will steer clear of any of the difficulties of the contest that is about to take place. We wish you to be very prudent and guarded in all your conversation and actions and not to make yourself a party man on either side. Have your opinions, but have them to yourself, and be sure you do not commit them to paper. It may do you great injury either on one side or the other, and you are not in your present situation as a politician but as an artist."

In this same letter his father adds:—

"The die is cast and our country plunged in war.... There is great opposition to it in the country. The papers, which you will have opportunity to see, will inform you of the state of parties. Your mother has given you sound advice as respects the course you should pursue. Be the artist wholly and let politics alone. I rejoice that you are where you are at the present time. You will do what you can without delay to support yourself, as I know not how we shall be able to procure funds to transmit to you, and, if we had them, how we could transmit them should the war continue."

To this the son answers in a letter of August 6, 1812:—

"I am improving, perhaps, the last opportunity I shall have for some time to write you. Mr. Wheeler, an American, who has been here some time studying portrait painting, has kindly offered to deliver this to you.

"Our political affairs, it seems, have come to a crisis, which I sincerely hope will turn to the advantage of America; it certainly will not to this country. War is an evil which no man ought to think lightly of, but, if ever it was just, it now is. The English acknowledge it, and what can be more convincing proof than the confession of an enemy? I was sorry to hear of the riotous proceedings in Boston. If they knew what an injury they were doing their country in the opinion of foreign nations, they certainly would refrain from them. I assert (because I have proof) that the Federalists in the Northern States have done more injury to their country by their violent opposition measures than even a French alliance could. Their proceedings are copied into the English papers, read before Parliament, and circulated through the country, and what do they say of them? Do they say the Federalists are patriots and are firm in asserting the rights of their country? No; they call them cowards, a base set; say they are traitors to their country and ought to be hanged like traitors. These things I have heard and read, and therefore must believe them.

"I wish I could have a talk with you, papa; I am sure I could convince you that neither Federalists nor Democrats are Americans; that war with this country is just, and that the present Administration of our country has acted with perfect justice in all their proceedings against this country....

"To observe the contempt with which America is spoken of, and the epithets of a 'nation of cheats,' 'sprung from convicts,' 'pusillanimous,' 'cowardly,' and such like,—these I think are sufficient to make any true American's blood boil. These are not used by individuals only, but on the floor of the House of Commons. The good effects of our declaration of war begin to be perceived already. The tone of their public prints here is a little softer and more submissive. Not one has called in question the justice of the declaration of war; all say, 'We are in the wrong and we shall do well to get out of it as soon as possible.'

"I could tell you volumes, but I have not time, and it would, perhaps, be impolitic in the present state of affairs. I only wish that among the infatuated party men I may not find my father, and I hope that he will be neutral rather than oppose the war measure, for (if he will believe a son who loves him and his country better the longer and farther he is away from them) this war will reestablish that character for honor and spirit which our country has lost through the proceedings of Federalists.

"But I will turn from this subject. My health and spirits are excellent and my love for my profession increases. I am painting a small historical piece; the subject is 'Marius in Prison,' and the soldier sent to kill him who drops his sword as Marius says, 'Durst thou kill Caius Marius?' The historical fact you must be familiar with. I am taking great pains with it, and may possibly exhibit it in February at the British Gallery.

"I never think of my situation in this country but with gratitude to you for suffering me to pursue the profession of my choice, and for making so many sacrifices to gratify me. I hope I shall always feel grateful to the best of parents and be able soon to show them I am so. In the mean time, if industry and application on my part can make them happy, be assured I shall use my best endeavors to be industrious, and in any other way to give them comfort. One of my greatest blessings here is Mr. Allston. He is like a brother to me, and not only is a most agreeable and entertaining companion, but he has been the means of giving me more knowledge (practical as well as theoretical) in my art than I could have acquired by myself in three years.

"In whatever circumstance I am, Mr. Allston I shall esteem as one of my best and most intimate friends, and in whatever I can assist him or his I shall feel proud in being able to do it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Allston are well. I dined with them yesterday at Captain Visscher's, whom I have mentioned to you before as one of our passengers. He is very attentive to us, visits us constantly, and is making us presents of various kinds every day, such as half a dozen best Madeira, etc. He came out here with his lady to take possession of a fortune of L80,000 and was immensely rich before, having married Miss Van Rensselaer of Albany."



CHAPTER V

SEPTEMBER 20, 1812—JUNE 13, 1813 Models the "Dying Hercules."—Dreams of greatness.—Again expresses gratitude to his parents.—Begins painting of "Dying Hercules."—Letter from Jeremiah Evarts.—Morse upholds righteousness of the war.—Henry Thornton.—Political discussions.— Gilbert Stuart.—William Wilberforce.—James Wynne's reminiscences of Morse, Coleridge, Leslie, Allston, and Dr. Abernethy.—Letters from his mother and brother.—Letters from friends on the state of the fine arts in America.—"The Dying Hercules" exhibited at the Royal Academy.— Expenses of painting.—Receives Adelphi Gold Medal for statuette of Hercules.—Mr. Dunlap's reminiscences.—Critics praise "Dying Hercules."

The young artist's letters to his parents at this period are filled with patriotic sentiments, and he writes many pages descriptive of the state of affairs in England and of the effects of the war on that country. He strongly upholds the justice of that war and pleads with his parents and brothers to take his view of the matter. They, on the other hand, strongly disapprove of the American Administration's position and of the war, and are inclined to censure and to laugh at the enthusiastic young man's heroics.

As we are more concerned with Morse's career as an artist than with his political sentiments, and as these latter, I fear, had no influence on the course of international events, I shall quote but sparingly from that portion of the correspondence, just enough to show that, whatever cause he espoused, then, and at all times during his long life, he threw himself into it heart and soul, and thoroughly believed in its righteousness. He was absolutely sincere, although he may sometimes have been mistaken.

In a letter dated September 20, 1812, he says:—

"I have just finished a model in clay of a figure (the 'Dying Hercules'), my first attempt at sculpture. Mr. Allston is extremely pleased with it; he says it is better than all the things I have done since I have been in England put together, and says I must send a cast of it home to you, and that it will convince you that I shall make a painter. He says also that he will write to his friends in Boston to call on you and see it when I send it.

"Mr. West also was extremely delighted with it. He said it was not merely an academical figure, but displayed mind and thought. He could not have made me a higher compliment.

"Mr. West would write you, but he has been disabled from painting or writing for a long time with the gout in his right hand. This is a great trial to him.

"I am anxious to send you something to show you that I have not been idle since I have been here. My passion for my art is so firmly rooted that I am confident no human power could destroy it. [And yet, as we shall see later on, human injustice so discouraged him that he dropped the brush forever.]

"The more I study it, the greater I think is its claim to the appellation of 'divine' and I never shall be able sufficiently to show my gratitude to my parents for their indulgence in so greatly enabling me to pursue that profession, without which I am sure I would be miserable. If ever it is my destiny to become great and worthy of a biographical memoir, my biographer will never be able to charge upon my parents that bigoted attachment to any individual profession, the exercise of which spirit by parents toward their children has been the ruin of some of the greatest geniuses; and the biography of men of genius has too often contained that reflection on their parents. If ever the contrary spirit was evident, it has certainly been shown by my parents towards me. Indeed, they have been almost too indulgent; they have watched every change of my capricious inclinations, and seem to have made it an object to study them with the greatest fondness. But I think they will say that, when my desire for change did cease, it always settled on painting.

"I hope that one day my success in my profession will reward you, in some measure, for the trouble and inconvenience I have so long put you to.

"I am now going to begin a picture of the death of Hercules from this figure, as large as life. The figure I shall send to you as soon as it is practicable, and also one of the same to Philadelphia, if possible in time for the next exhibition in May.

"I have enjoyed excellent health and spirits and am perfectly contented. The war between the two countries has not been productive of any measures against resident American citizens. I hope it will produce a good effect towards both countries."

He adds in a postscript that he has removed from 82 Great Titchfield Street to No. 8 Buckingham Place, Fitzroy Square.

The following extract from a letter to Morse written by his friend, Mr. Jeremiah Evarts, father of William M. Evarts, dated Charlestown, October 7, 1812, is interesting:—

"I am happy that you are so industriously and prosperously engaged in the prosecution of your profession. I hope you will let politics entirely alone for many reasons, not the least of which is a regard to the internal tranquillity of your own mind. I never yet knew a man made happy by studying politics; nor useful, unless he has great duties to perform as a citizen. You will receive this advice, I know, with your accustomed good nature."

The next letter, dated November 1, 1812, is a very long one, over eighteen large pages, and is an impassioned appeal to his father to look at the war from the son's point of view. I shall quote only a few sentences.

"Your last letter was of October 2, via Halifax, accompanying your sermon on Fast Day. The letter gave me great pleasure, but I must confess that the sentiments in the sermon appeared very strange to me, knowing what I, as well as every American here does, respecting the causes of the present war.... 'Tis the character of Englishmen to be haughty, proud, and overbearing. If this conduct meets with no resistance, their treatment becomes more imperious, and the more submissive and conciliating is the object of their imperiousness, the more tyrannical are they towards it. This has been their uniform treatment towards us, and this character pervades all ranks of society, whether in public or private life.

"The only way to please John Bull is to give him a good beating, and, such is the singularity of his character that, the more you beat him, the greater is his respect for you, and the more he will esteem you....

"If, after all I have now written, you still think that this war is unjust, and think it worth the trouble in order to ascertain the truth, I wish papa would take a trip across the Atlantic. If he is not convinced of the truth of what I have written in less than two months, I will agree to support myself all the time I am in England after this date, and never be a farthing's more expense to you.... I was glad to hear that Cousin Samuel Breese is in the navy. I really envy him very much. I hope one day, as a painter, I may be able to hand him down to posterity as an American Nelson.... As to my letters of introduction, I find that a painter and a visitor cannot be united. Were I to deliver my letters the acquaintance could not be kept up, and the bare thought of encountering the English reserve is enough to deter any one.... This objection, however, might be got over did it not take up so much time. Every moment is precious to me now. I don't know how soon I may be obliged to return home for want of means to support me; for the difficulties which are increasing in this country take off the attention of the people from the fine arts, and they withhold that patronage from young artists which they would, from their liberality, in other circumstances freely bestow....

"You mention that some of the Ralston family are in Boston on a visit, and that Mr. Codman is attached to Eliza. Once in my life, you know, if you had told me this and I had been a very bloody-minded young man, who knows but Mr. Codman might have been challenged. But I suppose he takes advantage of my being in England. If it is as you say, I am very happy to hear it, for Elizabeth is a girl whom I very much esteem, and there is no doubt that she will make an excellent wife."

In a letter from his mother of July 6, 1818, she thus reassures him: "Mr. Codman is married. He married a Miss Wheeler, of Newburyport, so you will have no need of challenging him on account of Eliza Ralston."

In a postscript to the letter of November 1, Morse adds:—

"I have just read the political parts of this letter to my good friend Mr. A——n, and he not only approves of the sentiments in it, but pays me a compliment by saying that I have expressed the truth and nothing but the truth in a very clear and proper manner, and hopes it may do good."

Among young Morse's friends in England at that time was Henry Thornton, philanthropist and member of Parliament. In a letter to his parents of January 1, 1813, he says:—

"Last Thursday week I received a very polite invitation from Henry Thornton, Esq., to dine with him, which I accepted. I had no introduction to him, but, hearing that your son was in the country, he found me out and has shown me every attention. He is a very pleasant, sensible man, but his character is too well known to you to need any eulogium from me.

"At his table was a son of Mr. Stephen, who was the author of the odious Orders in Council. Mr. Thornton asked me at table if I thought that, if the Orders in Council had been repealed a month or two sooner, it would not have prevented the war. I told him I thought it would, at which he was much pleased, and, turning to Mr. Stephen, he said: 'Do you hear that, Mr. Stephen? I always told you so.'

"Last Wednesday I dined at Mr. Wilberforce's. I was extremely pleased with him. At his house I met Mr. Grant and Mr. Thornton, members of Parliament. In the course of conversation they introduced America, and Mr. Wilberforce regretted the war extremely; he said it was like two of the same family quarrelling; that he thought it a judgment on this country for its wickedness, and that they had been justly punished for their arrogance and insolence at sea, as well as the Americans for their vaunting on land.

"As Mr. Thornton was going he invited me to spend a day or two at his seat at Clapham, a few miles out of town. I accordingly went and was very civilly treated. The reserve which I mentioned in a former letter was evident, however, here, and I felt a degree of embarrassment arising from it which I never felt in America. The second day I was a little more at my ease.

"At dinner were the two sons of the Mr. Grant I mentioned above. They are, perhaps, the most promising young men in the country, and you may possibly one day hear of them as at the head of the nation. [One of these young men was afterwards raised to the peerage as Lord Glenelg.]

"After dinner I got into conversation with them and with Mr. Thornton, when America again became the topic. They asked me a great many questions respecting America which I answered to the best of my ability. They at length asked me if I did not think that the ruling party in America was very much under French influence. I replied 'No'; that I believed on the contrary that nine tenths of the American people were prepossessed strongly in favor of this country. As a proof I urged the universal prevalence of English fashions in preference to French, and English manners and customs; the universal rejoicings on the success of the English over the French; the marked attention shown to English travellers and visitors; the neglect with which they treated their own literary productions on account of the strong prejudice in favor of English works; that everything, in short, was enhanced in its value by having attached to it the name English.

"On the other hand, I told them that the French were a people almost universally despised in America, and by at least one half hated. As in England, they were esteemed the common enemies of mankind; that French fashions were discountenanced and loathed; that a Frenchman was considered as a man always to be suspected; that young men were forbidden by their parents, in many instances, to associate with them, they considering their company and habits as tending to subvert their morals, and to render them frivolous and insincere. I added that in America as well as everywhere else there were bad men, men of no principles, whose consciences never stand in the way of their ambition or avarice; but that I firmly believed that, as a body, the American Congress was as pure from corruption and foreign influence as any body of men in the world. They were much pleased with what I told them, and acknowledged that America and American visitors generally had been treated with too much contempt and neglect.

"In the course of the day I asked Mr. Thornton what were the objects that the English Government had in view when they laid the Orders in Council. He told me in direct terms, 'the Universal monopoly of Commerce'; that they had long desired an excuse for such measures as the Orders in Council, and that the French decrees were exactly what they wished, and the opportunity was seized with avidity the moment it was offered. They knew that the Orders in Council bore hard upon the Americans, but they considered that as merely incidental.

"To this I replied that, if such was the case as he represented it, what blame could be attached to the American Government for declaring war? He said that it was urged that America ought to have considered the circumstances of the case, and that Great Britain was fighting for the liberties of the world; that America was, in a great degree, interested in the decision of the contest, and that she ought to be content to suffer a little.

"I told him that England had no right whatever to infringe on the neutrality of America, or to expect because she (England) supposed herself to have justice on her side in the contest with France, that, of course, the Americans should think the same. The moment America declared this opinion her neutrality ceased. 'Besides,' said I, 'how can they have the face to make such a declaration when you just now said that their object was universal monopoly, and they longed for an excuse to adopt measures to that end?' I told him that it showed that all the noise about England's fighting for the liberties of mankind proved to be but a thirst, a selfish desire for universal monopoly.

"This he said seemed to be the case; he could not deny it. He was going on to observe something respecting the French decrees when we were interrupted, and I have not been able again to resume the conversation. I returned to town with him shortly after in his carriage, where, as there were strangers, I could not introduce it again."

After this follow two long pages giving further reasons for the stand he has taken, which I shall not include, only quoting the following sentences towards the end of the letter:—

"You will have heard before this arrives of the glorious news from Russia. Bonaparte is for once defeated, and will probably never again recover from it.

"My regards to Mr. Stuart [Gilbert Stuart]. I feel quite flattered at his remembrance of me. Tell him that, by coming to England, I know how more justly to appreciate his great merits. There is really no one in England who equals him.

"Accompanying this are some newspapers, some of Cobbett's, a man of no principle and a great rascal, yet a man of sense and says many good things."

I have quoted at length from this letter in order that we may gain a clearer insight into the character of the man. While in no wise neglecting his main objects in life, he yet could not help taking a deep interest in public affairs. He was frank and outspoken in his opinions, but courteous withal. He abhorred hypocrisy and vice and was unsparing in his condemnation of both. He enjoyed a controversy and was quick to discover the weak points in his opponent's arguments and to make the most of them.

These characteristics he carried with him through life, becoming, however, broader-minded and more tolerant as he grew in years and experience.

Morse's father had given him many letters of introduction to eminent men in England. Most of these he neglected to deliver, pleading in extenuation of his apparent carelessness that he could not spare the time from his artistic studies to fulfill all the duties that would be expected of him in society, and that he also could not afford the expenses necessary to a well-dressed man.

The following note from William Wilberforce explains itself, but there seems to be some confusion of dates, for Morse had just said in his letter of January 1st that he dined at Mr. Wilberforce's over a week before.

KENSINGTON GORE, January 4, 1813.

SIR,—I cannot help entertaining some apprehension of my not having received some letter or some card which you may have done me the favor of leaving at my house. Be this, however, as it may, I gladly avail myself of the sanction of a letter from your father for introducing myself to you; and, as many calls are mere matters of form, I take the liberty of begging the favor of your company at dinner on Wednesday next, at a quarter before five o'clock, at Kensington Gore (one mile from Hyde Park corner), and of thereby securing the pleasure of an acquaintance with you.

The high respect which I have always entertained for your father, in addition to the many obliging marks of attention which I have received from him, render me desirous of becoming personally known to you, and enable me with truth to assure you I am, with good will, sir,

Your faithful servant, W. WILBERFORCE.

Among Morse's friends in London during the period of his student years, were Coleridge, Rogers, Lamb, and others whose names are familiar ones in the literary world.

While the letters of those days give only hints of the delightful intercourse between these congenial souls, the recollection of them was enshrined in the memory of some of their contemporaries, and the following reminiscences, preserved by Mr. James Wynne and recorded by Mr. Prune in his biography, will be found interesting:—

"Coleridge, who was a visitor at the rooms of Leslie and Morse, frequently made his appearance under the influence of those fits of despondency to which he was subject. On these occasions, by a preconcerted plan, they often drew him from this state to one of brilliant imagination.

"'I was just wishing to see you,' said Morse on one of these occasions when Coleridge entered with a hesitating step, and replied to their frank salutations with a gloomy aspect and deep-drawn sighs. 'Leslie and myself have had a dispute about certain lines of beauty; which is right?' And then each argued with the other for a few moments until Coleridge became interested, and, rousing from his fit of despondency, spoke with an eloquence and depth of metaphysical reasoning on the subject far beyond the comprehension of his auditors. Their point, however, was gained, and Coleridge was again the eloquent, the profound, the gifted being which his remarkable productions show him to be.

"'On one occasion,' said Morse, 'I heard him improvise for half an hour in blank verse what he stated to be a strange dream, which was full of those wonderful creations that glitter like diamonds in his poetical productions.' 'All of which,' remarked I, 'is undoubtedly lost to the world.' 'Not all,' replied Mr. Morse, 'for I recognize in the "Ancient Mariner" some of the thoughts of that evening; but doubtless the greater part, which would have made the reputation of any other man, perished with the moment of inspiration, never again to be recalled.'

"When his tragedy of 'Remorse,' which had a run of twenty-one nights, was first brought out, Washington Allston, Charles King, Leslie, Lamb, Morse, and Coleridge went together to witness the performance. They occupied a box near the stage, and each of the party was as much interested in its success as Coleridge himself.

"The effect of the frequent applause upon Coleridge was very manifest, but when, at the end of the piece, he was called for by the audience, the intensity of his emotions was such as none but one gifted with the fine sensibilities of a poet could experience. Fortunately the audience was satisfied with a mere presentation of himself. His emotions would have precluded the idea of his speaking on such an occasion.

"Allston soon after this became so much out of health that he thought a change of air and a short residence in the country might relieve him. He accordingly set out on his journey accompanied by Leslie and Morse.

"When he reached Salt Hill, near Oxford, he became so ill as to be unable to proceed, and requested Morse to return to town for his medical attendant, Dr. Tuthill, and Coleridge, to whom he was ardently attached.

"Morse accordingly returned, and, procuring a post-chaise, immediately set out for Salt Hill, a distance of twenty-two miles, accompanied by Coleridge and Dr. Tuthill.

"They arrived late in the evening and were busied with Allston until midnight, when he became easier, and Morse and Coleridge left him for the night.

"Upon repairing to the sitting-room of the hotel Morse opened Knickerbocker's 'History of New York,' which he had thrown into the carriage before leaving town. Coleridge asked him what work he had.

"'Oh,' replied he, 'it is only an American book.'

"'Let me see it,' said Coleridge.

"He accordingly handed it to him, and Coleridge was soon buried in its pages. Mr. Morse, overcome by the fatigues of the day, soon after retired to his chamber and fell asleep.

"On awakening next morning he repaired to the sitting-room, when what was his astonishment to find it still closed, with the lights burning, and Coleridge busy with the book he had lent him the previous night.

"'Why, Coleridge,' said he, approaching him, 'have you been reading the whole night?'

"'Why,' remarked Coleridge abstractedly, 'it is not late.'

"Morse replied by throwing open the blinds and permitting the broad daylight, for it was now ten o'clock, to stream in upon them.

"'Indeed,' said Coleridge, 'I had no conception of this; but the work has pleased me exceedingly. It is admirably written; pray, who is its author?'

"He was informed that it was the production of Washington Irving. It is needless to say that, during the long residence of Irving in London, they became warm friends.

"At this period Mr. Abernethy was in the full tide of his popularity as a surgeon, and Allston, who had for some little time had a grumbling pain in his thigh, proposed to Morse to accompany him to the house of the distinguished surgeon to consult him on the cause of the ailment.

"As Allston had his hand on the bell-pull, the door was opened and a visitor passed out, immediately followed by a coarse-looking person with a large, shaggy head of hair, whom Allston at once took for a domestic. He accordingly enquired if Mr. Abernethy was in.

"'What do you want of Mr. Abernethy?' demanded this uncouth-looking person with the harshest possible Scotch accent.

"'I wished to see him,' gently replied Allston, somewhat shocked by the coarseness of his reception. 'Is he at home?'

"'Come in, come in, mon,' said the same uncouth personage.

"'But he may be engaged,' responded Allston. 'Perhaps I had better call another time.'

"'Come in, mon, I say,' replied the person addressed; and, partly by persuasion and partly by force, Allston, followed by Morse, was induced to enter the hall, which they had no sooner done than the person who admitted them closed the street door, and, placing his back against it, said:—

"'Now, tell me what is your business with Mr. Abernethy. I am Mr. Abernethy.'

"'I have come to consult you,' replied Allston, 'about an affection—'

"'What the de'il hae I to do with your affections?' bluntly interposed Abernethy.

"'Perhaps, Mr. Abernethy,' said Allston, by this time so completely overcome by the apparent rudeness of the eminent surgeon as to regret calling on him at all, 'you are engaged at present, and I had better call again.'

"'De'il the bit, de'il the bit, mon,' said Abernethy. 'Come in, come in.' And he preceded them to his office, and examined his case, which proved to be a slight one, with such gentleness as almost to lead them to doubt whether Abernethy within his consulting-room, and Abernethy whom they had encountered in the passage, was really the same personage."

While Morse was enjoying all these new experiences in England, the good people at home were jogging along in their accustomed ruts, but were deeply interested in the doings of the absent son and brother.

His mother writes on January 11, 1813:—

"Your letters are read with great pleasure by your acquaintance. I do not show those in which you say anything on politics, as I do not approve your change, and think it would only prejudice others. For that reason I do not wish you to write on that subject, as I love to read all your observations to your friends.