JULY 10, 1813—APRIL 6, 1814
Letter from the father on economies and political views.—Morse deprecates lack of spirit in New England and rejoices at Wellington's victories.—Allston's poems.—Morse coat-of-arms.—Letter of Joseph Hillhouse.—Letter of exhortation from his mother.—Morse wishes to stay longer in Europe.—Amused at mother's political views.—The father sends more money for a longer stay.—Sidney exalts poetry above painting.—His mother warns him against infidels and actors.—Bristol.—Optimism.— Letter on infidels and his own religious observances.—Future of American art.—He is in good health, but thin.—Letter from Mr. Visger.—Benjamin Burritt, American prisoner.—Efforts in his behalf unsuccessful.—Capture of Paris by the Allies.—Again expresses gratitude to parents.—Writes a play for Charles Mathews.—Not produced.
The detailed accounts of his economies which the young man sent home to his parents seem to have deeply touched them, for on July 10, 1813, his father writes to him: "Your economy, industry, and success in pursuing your professional studies give your affectionate parents the highest gratification and reward. We wish you to avoid carrying your economy to an extreme. Let your appearance be suited to the respectable company you keep, and your living such as will conduce most effectually to preserve health of body and vigor of mind. We shall all be willing to make sacrifices at home so far as may be necessary to the above purposes."
Farther on in this same letter the father says: "The character you give of Mr. Allston is, indeed, an exalted one, and we believe it correctly drawn. Your ardor has given it a high coloring, but the excess is that of an affectionate and grateful heart."
Referring to his son's political views, he answers in these broad-minded words:—
"I approve your love of your country and concern for its honor. Your errors, as we think them, appear to be the errors of a fair and honest mind, and are of a kind to be effectually cured by correct information of facts on both sides.
"Probably we may err because we are ignorant of many things which have fallen under your notice. We shall no doubt agree when we shall have opportunity to compare notes, and each is made acquainted with all that the other knows. I confidently expect an honorable peace in the course of six months, but may be deceived, as the future course of things cannot be foreseen.
"The present is one of the finest and most promising seasons I ever knew; the harvest to appearance will be very abundant. Heaven appears to be rewarding this part of the country for their conduct in opposing the present war."
Perhaps the good father did not mean to be malicious, but this is rather a wicked little thrust at the son's vehemently expressed political views. On this very same date, July 10, 1813, Morse writes to his parents:—
"I have just heard of the unfortunate capture of the Chesapeake. Is our infant Hercules to be strangled at his birth? Where is the spirit of former times which kindled in the hearts of the Bostonians? Will they still be unmoved, or must they learn from more bitter experience that Britain is not for peace, and that the only way to procure it is to join heart and hand in a vigorous prosecution of the war?
"It is not the time now to think of party; the country is in danger; but
I hope to hear soon that the honor of our navy is retrieved. The brave
Captain Lawrence will never, I am sure, be forgotten; his career of glory
has been short but brilliant.
"All is rejoicing here; illuminations and fireworks and feux de joie for the capture of the Chesapeake and a victory in Spain.
"Imagine yourself, if possible, in my situation in an enemy's country and hearing songs of triumph and exultation on the misfortunes of my countrymen, and this, too, on the 4th of July. A less ardent spirit than mine might perhaps tolerate it, but I cannot. I do long to be at home, to be in the navy, and teach these insolent Englishmen how to respect us….
"The Marquis Wellington has achieved a great victory in Spain, and bids fair to drive the French out very soon. At this I rejoice as ought every man who abhors tyranny and loves liberty. I wish the British success against everything but my country. I often say with Cowper: 'England, with all thy faults, I love thee still.'
"I am longing for Edwards' comparison between poetry and painting, and to know how he will prove the former superior to the latter. A painter must be a poet, but a poet need not be a painter. How will he get over this argument?
"By the way, Mr. Allston has just published a volume of poems, a copy of which I will endeavor to send you. They are but just published, so that the opinion of the public is not yet ascertained, but there is no doubt they will forever put at rest the calumny that America has never produced a poet.
"I have lately been enquiring for the coat-of-arms which belongs to the Morse family. For this purpose I wish to know from what part of this Kingdom the Morses emigrated, and if you can recollect anything that belongs to the arms. If you will answer these questions minutely, I can, for half a crown, ascertain the arms and crest which belong to the family, which (as there is a degree of importance attached to heraldry in this country) may be well to know. I have seen the arms of one Morse which have been in the family three hundred years. So we can trace our antiquity as far as any family."
A letter from a college-mate, Mr. Joseph Hillhouse, written in Boston on July 12, 1813, gives a pretty picture of Morse's home, and contains some quaint gossip which I shall transcribe:—
"On Saturday afternoon the beauty of the weather invited my cousin Catherine Borland, my sister Mary (who is here on a visit), and myself to take a walk over to Charlestown for the purpose of paying a visit to your good parents. We found them just preparing tea, and at once concluded to join the family party.
"Present to the eye of your fancy the closing-in of a fine, blue-skied, sunny American Saturday evening, whose tranquillity and repose rendered it the fit precursor of the Sabbath. Imagine the tea-table placed in your sitting-parlor, all the windows open, and round it, first, the housekeeper pouring out tea; next her, Miss C. Borland; next her, your mother, whose looks spoke love as often as you were mentioned, and that was not infrequently, I assure you. On your mother's right sat my sister, next whom was your father in his long green-striped study gown, his apostolic smile responding to the eye of your mother when his dear son was his theme. I was placed (and an honorable post I considered it) at his right hand.
"There the scene for you. Can you paint it? Neither of your brothers was at home….
"In home news we have little variety. The sister of your quondam flame, Miss Ann Hart, bestowed her hand last winter on Victory as personified in our little fat captain, Isaac Hull, who is now reposing in the shade of his laurels, and amusing himself in directing the construction of a seventy-four at Portsmouth. Where the fair excellence, Miss Jannette herself, is at present, I am unable to say. The sunshine of her eyes has not beamed upon me since I beheld you delightedly and gallantly figuring at her side at Daddy Value's ball, where I exhibited sundry feats of the same sort myself.
"By the way, Mons. V. is still in fiddling condition, and the immaculate
Ann Jane Caroline Gibbs, Madame, has bestowed a subject on the state!!
"A fortnight since your friend Nancy Goodrich was married to William Ellsworth. Emily Webster is soon to plight her faith to his brother Henry. Miss Mary Ann Woolsey thinks of consummating the blessedness of a Mr. Scarborough before the expiration of the summer. He is a widower of thirty or thirty-five with one child, a little girl four or five years old.
"Thus, you see, my dear friend, all here seem to be setting their faces heavenward; all seem ambitious of repairing the ravages of war….
"P.S. Oh! horrid mistake I made on the preceding page! Nancy and Emily, on my knees I deprecate your wrath!! I have substituted William for Henry and Henry for William. No, Henry is Nancy's and William Emily's. They are twins, and I, forsooth, must make them changelings!"
In a letter of July 30, 1813, his mother thus exhorts him:—
"I hope, my dear son, your success in your profession will not have a tendency to make you vain, or embolden you to look down on any in your profession whom Providence may have been less favorable to in point of talents for this particular business; and that you will observe a modesty in the reception of premiums and praises on account of your talents, that shall show to those who bestow them that you are worthy of them in more senses than merely as an artist. It will likewise convince those who are less favored that you are far from exulting in their disappointments,—as I hope is truly the case,—and prevent that jealousy and envy that too often discovers itself in those of the same profession….
"We exceedingly rejoice in all your success, and hope you will persevere. Remember, my son, it is easier to get a reputation than to keep it unspotted in the midst of so much pollution as we are surrounded by….
"C. Dexter thanks you for your attention to her request as it respects Southey's likeness. She does not wish you to take too much pains and trouble to get it, but she, I know, would be greatly pleased if you should send her one of him. If you should get acquainted with him, inform him that a very sensible, fine young lady in America requested it (but don't tell him her name) from having read his works."
In a long letter of August 10 and 26, 1813, after again giving free rein to his political feelings, he returns to the subject of his art:—
"Mr. West promised me a note to you, but he is an old man and very forgetful, and I suppose he has forgotten it. I don't wish to remind him of it directly, but, if in the course of conversation I can contrive to mention it, I will….
"With respect to returning home next summer, Mr. Allston and Mr. West think it would be an injury to me. Mr. Allston says I ought not to return till I am a painter. I long to return as much as you can wish to have me, but, if you can spare me a little longer, I should wish it. I abide your decision, however, completely. Mr. Allston will write you fully on this subject, and I will endeavor to persuade Mr. West also to do it.
"France I could not, at present, visit with advantage; that is to say for, perhaps, a year. Mr. Allston thinks I ought to be previously well grounded in the principles of the English school to resist the corruptions of the French school; for they are corrupt in the principles of painting, as in religion and everything else; but, when well grounded in the good principles of this school, I could study and select the few beauties of the French without being in danger of following their many errors. The Louvre also would, in about a year, be of the greatest advantage to me, and also the fine works in Italy….
"Mama has amused me very much in her letter where she writes on politics. She says that, next to changing one's religion, she would dislike a man for changing his politics. Mama, perhaps, is not aware that she would in this way shut the door completely to conviction in anything. It would imply that, because a man is educated in error, he must forever live in error. I know exactly how mama feels; she thinks, as I did when at home, that it was impossible for the Federalists to be in the wrong; but, as all men are fallible, I think they may stand a chance of being wrong as well as any other class of people….
"Mama thinks my 'error' arises from wrong information. I will ask mama which of us is likely to get at the truth; I, who am in England and can see and hear all their motives for acting as they have done; or mama, who gets her information from the Federal papers, second-hand, with numerous additions and improvements made to answer party purposes, distorted and misrepresented?
"But to give you an instance. In the Massachusetts remonstrance they attribute the repeal of the Orders in Council to the kind disposition of the English Government, and a wish on their part to do justice, whereas it is notorious in this country that they repealed them on account of the injury it was doing themselves, and took America into consideration about as much as they did the inhabitants of Kamschatka. The conditional repeal of the Berlin and Milan decrees was a back door for them, and they availed themselves of it to sneak out of it. This necessity, this act of dire necessity, the Federal papers cry up as evincing a most forbearing spirit towards us, and really astonish the English themselves who never dreamt that it could be twisted in that way.
"Mama assigns as a reason for my thinking well of the English that they have been very polite to me, and that it is ingratitude in me if I do otherwise. A few individuals have treated me politely, and I do feel thankful and gratified for it; but a little politeness from an individual of one nation to an individual of another is certainly not a reason that the former's Government should be esteemed incapable of wrong by the latter. I esteem the English as a nation; I rejoice in their conquests on the Continent, and would love them heartily, if they would let me; but I am afraid to tell them this, they are already too proud.
"Their treatment of America is the worse for it. They are like a poor man who has got a lottery ticket and draws a great prize, and when his poor neighbor comes sincerely to congratulate him on his success, he holds up his head, and, turning up his nose, tells him that now he is his superior and then kicks him out of doors.
"Papa says he expects peace in six months. It may be in the disposition of America to make peace, but not in the will of the English. It is in the power of the Federalists to force her to peace, but they will not do it, so she will force us to do it."
As in most discussions, political or otherwise, neither party seems to have been convinced by the arguments of the other, for the parents continue to urge him to leave politics alone; indeed, they insist on his doing so. They also urge him to make every effort to support himself, if he should decide to spend another year abroad, for they fear that they will be unable to send him any more money. However, the father, when he became convinced that it was really to his son's interest to spend another year abroad, contrived to send him another thousand dollars. This was done at the cost of great self-sacrifice on the part of himself and his family, and was all the more praiseworthy on that account.
In a letter from his brother Edwards, written also on the 17th of November, is this passage: "I must defer giving my reasons for thinking Poetry superior to Painting; I will mention only a few of the principles upon which I found my judgment. Genius in both these arts is the power of making impressions. The question then is: which is capable of making the strongest impression; which can impress upon the mind most strongly a sublime or a beautiful idea? Does the sublimest passage in Milton excite a stronger sensation in the mind of a man of taste than the sublimest painting of Michael Angelo? Or, to make the parallel more complete, does Michael Angelo convey to you a stronger impression of the Last Judgment, by his painting, than Milton could by his poetry? Could Michael Angelo convey a more sublime idea of Death by his painting than Milton has in his 'Paradise Lost'? These are the principles upon which your 'divine art' is to be degraded below Poetry."
This was rather acute reasoning for a boy of twenty who had spent his life in the Boston and New Haven of those early days. The fact that he had never seen a great painting, whereas he had greedily read the poets, will probably account for his strong partisanship.
The pious mother writes on November 25, 1813:—
"With regard to the Americans being despised and hated in England, you were apprised by your Uncle Salisbury and others before you left this country that that was the case, and you ought not to be surprised when you realized it. The reason given was that a large portion of those who visit Europe are dissipated infidels, which has justly given the English a bad opinion of us as a nation. But we are happy to find that there are many exceptions to these, who do honor to the country which gave them birth, such as a West, an Allston, and many others, among whom, I am happy to say, we hope that you, my son, will be enrolled at no very distant day….
"You mention being acquainted with young Payne, the play actor. I would guard you against any acquaintance with that description of people, as it will, sooner or later, have a most corrupting effect on the morals, and, as a man is known by the company he keeps, I should be very sorry to have you enrolled with such society, however pure you may believe his morals to be.
"Your father and myself were eleven days in company with him in coming from Charleston, South Carolina. His behavior was quite unexceptionable then, but he is in a situation to ruin the best morals. I hope you do not attend the theatre, as I have ever considered it a most bewitching amusement, and ruinous both to soul and body. I would therefore guard you against it."
His brother Richard joined the rest of the family in urging the young and impulsive artist to leave politics alone, as we learn from the following words which begin a letter of November 27, 1813:—
MY DEAR BROTHER,—Your letters by the Neptune, and also the medal, gave us great pleasure. The politics, however, were very disagreeable and occupied no inconsiderable part of your letters. Your kind wishes for our reformation we must beg leave to retort by hoping for your speedy amendment.
There are gaps in the correspondence of this period. Many of the letters from both sides of the Atlantic seem never to have reached their destination, owing to the disturbed state of affairs arising from the war between the two countries.
The young artist had gone in October, 1813, to Bristol, at the earnest solicitation of friends in that city, and seems to have spent a pleasant and profitable five months there, painting a number of portraits. He refers to letters written from Bristol, but they were either never received or not preserved. Of other letters I have only fragments, and some that are quoted by Mr. Prime in his biography have vanished utterly. Still, from what remains, we can glean a fairly good idea of the life of the young man at that period. His parents continually begged him to leave politics alone and to tell them more of his artistic life, of his visits to interesting places, and of his intercourse with the literary and artistic celebrities of the day.
We, too, must regret that he did not write more fully on these subjects, for there must have been a mine of interesting material at his disposal. We also learn that there seems to have been a strange fatality attached to the little statuette of the "Dying Hercules," for, although he packed it carefully and sent it to Liverpool on June 18, 1813, to be forwarded to his parents, it never reached them until over two years later. The superstitious will say that the date of sending may have had something to do with this.
Up to this time everything, except the attitude of England towards America, had been couleur de rose to the enthusiastic young artist. He was making rapid progress in his studies and was receiving the encomiums of his fellow artists and of the critics. His parents were denying themselves in order to provide the means for his support, and, while he was duly appreciative of their goodness, he could not help taking it more or less as a matter of course. He was optimistic with regard to the future, falling into the common error of gifted young artists that, because of their artistic success, financial success must of necessity follow. He had yet to be proved in the school of adversity, and he had not long to wait. But I shall let the letters tell the story better than I can. The last letter from him to his parents from which I have quoted was written on August 12 and 26, 1813.
On March 12, 1814, he writes from London after his return from Bristol:—
"There is a great drawback to my writing long letters to you; I mean the uncertainty of their reaching you.
"Mama's long letter gave me particular pleasure. Some of her observations, however, made me smile, especially the reasons she assigns for the contempt and hatred of England for America. First, I am inclined to doubt the fact of there being so many infidel Americans in the country; second, if there were, there are not so many religious people here who would take the pains to enquire whether they had religion or not; and third, it is not by seeing the individual Americans that an opinion unfavorable to us is prevalent in England….
"With respect to my religious sentiments, they are unshaken; their influence, I hope, will always guide me through life. I hear various preachings on Sundays, sometimes Mr. Burder, but most commonly the Church of England clergy, as a church is in my neighborhood and Mr. B.'s three miles distant. I most commonly heard Dr. Biddulph, of St. James's Church, a most excellent, orthodox, evangelical man. I was on the point many times of going to hear Mr. Lowell, who is one of the dissenting clergymen of Bristol, but, as the weather proved very unfavorable, uncommonly so every Sunday I was there, and I was at a great distance from his church, I was disappointed. I shall endeavor to hear him preach when I go back to Bristol again."
This was in reply to many long exhortations in his parents' letters, and especially in his mother's, couched in the extravagant language of the very pious of those days, to seek first the welfare of his "never-dying soul."
"I have returned from Bristol to attend the exhibitions and to endeavor to get a picture into Somerset House. My stay in Bristol was very pleasant, indeed, as well as profitable. I was there five months and, in May, shall probably go again and stay all summer. I was getting into good business in the portrait way there, and, if I return, shall be enabled, probably, to support myself as long as I stay in England.
"The attention shown me by Mr. Harman Visger and family, whom I have mentioned in a former letter, I shall never forget. He is a rich merchant, an American (cousin to Captain Visscher, my fellow passenger, by whom I was introduced to him). He has a family of seven children. I lived within a few doors of him, and was in and out of his house ever day…."
Four pages of this letter are, unfortunately, missing. It begins again abruptly:—
"… prevented by illness from writing you before.
"I shall endeavor to support myself, if not, necessity will compel me to return home an unfinished painter; it depends altogether on circumstances. I may get a good run of portraits or I may not; it depends so much on the whim of the public; if they should happen to fancy my pictures, I shall succeed; if not, why, I shall not succeed. I am, however, encouraged to hope….
"If I am prohibited from writing or thinking of politics, I hope my brothers will not be so ungenerous as to give me any….
"Mr. Allston's large picture is now exhibiting in the British Gallery. It has excited a great deal of curiosity and he has obtained a wonderful share of praise for it…. The picture is very deservedly ranked among the highest productions of art, either in ancient or modern times. It is really a pleasant consideration that the palm of painting still rests with America, and is, in all probability, destined to remain with us. All we wish is a taste in the country and a little more wealth…. In order to create a taste, however, pictures, first-rate pictures, must be introduced into the country, for taste is only acquired by a close study of the merits of the old masters. In Philadelphia I am happy to find they have successfully begun. I wish Americans would unite in the thing, throw aside local prejudices and give their support to one institution. Let it be in Philadelphia, since it is so happily begun there, and let every American feel a pride in supporting that institution; let it be a national not a city institution. Then might the arts be so encouraged that Americans might remain at home and not, as at present, be under the painful necessity of exiling themselves from their country and their friends.
"This will come to pass in the course of time, but not in my day, I fear, unless there is more exertion made to forward the arts than at present…."
In this he proved a true prophet, and, as we shall see later, his exertions were a potent factor in establishing the fine arts on a firm basis in New York.
"I am in very good health and I hope I feel grateful for it. I have not been ill for two days together since I have been in England. I am, however, of the walking-stick order, and think I am thinner than I was at home. They all tell me so. I'm not so good-looking either, I am told; I have lost my color, grown more sallow, and have a face approaching to the hatchet class; but none of these things concern me; if I can paint good-looking, plump ladies and gentlemen, I shall feel satisfied….
"We have had a dreadfully severe winter here in England, such as has not been known for twenty-two years. When I came from Bristol the snow was up on each side of the road as high as the top of the coach in many places, especially on Marlborough Down and Hounslow Heath."
His friend Mr. Visger thus writes to him from Bristol on April 1, 1814:—
"It gave me pleasure to learn that Mr. Leslie sold his picture of Saul, etc., at so good a price. I hope it will stimulate a friend of his to use his best exertions and time to endeavor even to excel the 'Witch of Endor.' I think I perceive a few symptoms of amendment in him, and the request of his father that he must support himself is, in the opinion of his friends here, the best thing that could have befallen him. He will now have the pleasure to taste the sweets of his own labor, and I hope will, in reality, know what true independence is. Let him not despair and he will certainly succeed.
"Excuse my having taken up so much of your time in reading what I have written about Mr. Leslie's friend; I hope it will not make the pencil work less smoothly.
"It gave us all great pleasure to hear that Mr. Allston's 'Dead and Alive Man' got the prize. It would be a great addition to our pleasure to hear that those encouragers of the fine arts have offered him fifteen hundred or two thousand guineas for it….
"There is an old lady waiting your return to have her portrait painted.
Bangley says one or two more are enquiring for Mr. Morse.
"You seem to have forgotten your friend in Stapleton prison. Did you not succeed in obtaining his release?"
This refers to a certain Mr. Benjamin Burritt, an American prisoner of war. Morse used every effort, through his friend Henry Thornton, to secure the release of Mr. Burritt. On December 30, 1813, he wrote to Mr. Thornton from Bristol:—
RESPECTED SIR,—I take the liberty of addressing you in behalf of an American prisoner of war now in the Stapleton depot, and I address you, sir, under the conviction that a petition in the cause of humanity will not be considered by you as obtrusive.
The prisoner I allude to is a gentleman of the name of Burritt, a native of New Haven, in the State of Connecticut; his connections are of the highest respectability in that city, which is notorious for its adherence to Federal principles. His friends and relatives are among my father's friends, and, although I was not, until now, personally acquainted with him, yet his face is familiar to me, and many of his relatives were my particular friends while I was receiving my education at Yale College in New Haven. From that college he was graduated in the year ——. A classmate of his was the Reverend Mr. Stuart, who is one of the professors of the Andover Theological Institution, and of whom, I think, my father has spoken in some of his letters to Mr. Wilberforce.
Mr. Burritt, after he left college, applied himself to study, so much so as to injure his health, and, by the advice of his physicians, he took to the sea as the only remedy left for him. This had the desired effect, and he was restored to health in a considerable degree.
Upon the breaking out of the war with this country, all the American coasting trade being destroyed, he took a situation as second mate in the schooner Revenge, bound to France, and was captured on the 10th of May, 1813.
Since that time he has been a prisoner, and, from the enclosed certificates, you will ascertain what has been his conduct. He is a man of excellent religious principles, and, I firmly believe, of the strictest integrity. So well assured am I of this that, in case it should be required, I will hold myself bound to answer for him in my own person.
His health is suffering by his confinement, and the unprincipled society, which he is obliged to endure, is peculiarly disagreeable to a man of his education.
My object in stating these particulars to you, sir, is (if possible and consistent with the laws of the country), to obtain for him, through your influence, his liberty on his parole of honor. By so doing you will probably be the means of preserving the life of a good man, and will lay his friends, my father, and myself under the greatest obligations.
Trusting to your goodness to pardon this intrusion upon your time, I am, sir, with the highest consideration,
Your most humble, obedient servant,
SAMUEL F.B. MORSE.
To this Mr. Thornton replied:—
DEAR SIR,—You will perceive by the enclosed that there is, unhappily, no prospect of our effecting our wishes in respect to your poor friend at Bristol. I shall be glad to know whether you have had any success in obtaining a passport for Dr. Cushing.
I am, dear sir, yours, etc.
H. THORNTON.
The enclosure referred to by Mr. Thornton was the following letter addressed to him by Lord Melville:—
SIR,—Mr. Hay having communicated to me a letter which he received from you on the subject of Benjamin Burritt, an American prisoner of war in the depot at Stapleton, I regret much that, after consulting on this case with Sir Rupert George, and ascertaining the usual course of procedure in similar instances, I cannot discover any circumstances that would justify a departure from the rules observed toward other prisoners of the same description.
There can be no question that his case is a hard one, but I am afraid that it is inseparable from a state of war. It is not only not a solitary instance among the French and American prisoners, but, unless we were prepared to adopt the system of releasing all others of the same description, we should find that the number who might justly complain of undue partiality to this man would be very considerable.
I have the honor to be, sir, your most obedient and very humble servant,
MELVILLE.
This was a great disappointment to Morse, who had set his heart on being the means of securing the liberty of this unfortunate man. He was compelled to bow to the inevitable, however, and after this he did what he could to make the unhappy situation of the prisoner more bearable by extending to him financial assistance, although he had but little to spare at that time himself, and could but ill afford the luxury of giving.
Great events were occurring on the Continent at this time, and it is interesting to note how the intelligence of them was received in England by an enthusiastic student, not only of the fine arts, but of the humanities, who felt that, in this case, his sympathies and those of his family were in accord:—
April 6, 1814.
MY DEAR PARENTS,—I write in much haste, but it is to inform you of a most glorious event, no less than the capture of Paris, by the Allies. They entered it last Thursday, and you may conceive the sensations of the people of England on the occasion. As the cartel is the first vessel which will arrive in America to carry the news, I hope I shall have the great satisfaction of hearing that I am the first who shall inform you of this great event; the particulars you will see nearly as soon as this.
I congratulate you and the rest of the good people of the world on the occasion. Despotism and Usurpation are fallen, never, I hope, to rise again. But what gives me the greatest pleasure in the contemplation of this occurrence is the spirit of religion and, consequently, of humanity which has constantly marked the conduct of the Allies. Their moderation through all their unparallelled successes cannot be too much extolled; they merit the grateful remembrance of posterity, who will bless them as the restorers of a blessing but little enjoyed by the greater part of mankind for centuries. I mean the inestimable blessing of Peace.
But I must cut short my feelings on the subject; were I to give them scope they would fill quires; they are as ardent as yours possibly can be. Suffice it to say that I see the hand of Providence so strongly in it that I think an infidel must be converted by it, and I hope I feel as a Christian should on such an occasion.
I am well, in excellent spirits and shall use my utmost endeavors to support myself, for now more than ever is it necessary for me to stay in Europe. Peace is inevitable, and the easy access to the Continent and the fine works of art there render it doubly important that I should improve them to my utmost.
I cannot ask more of my parents than they have done for me, but the struggle will be hard for me to get along and improve myself at the same time. Portraits are the only things which can support me at present, but it is insipid, indeed, for one who wishes to be at the head of the first branch of the art, to be stopped halfway, and be obliged to struggle with the difficulty of maintaining himself, in addition to the other difficulties attendant on the profession.
But it is impossible to place this in a clear light in a letter. I wish I could talk with you on the subject, and I could in a short time make it clear to you. I cannot ask it of you and I do not till I try what I can do. You have already done more than I deserved and it would be ingratitude in me to request more of you, and I do not; only I say these things that you may not expect so much from me in the way of improvement as you may have been led to suppose.
Morse seems to have made an excursion into dramatic literature at about this time, as the following draft of a letter, without date, but evidently written to the celebrated actor Charles Mathews, will testify:—
Not having the honor of a personal acquaintance with you, I have taken the liberty of enclosing to you a farce which, if, on perusal, you should think worthy of the stage, I beg you to accept, to be performed, if consistent with your plans, on the night appointed for your benefit.
If I should be so much favored as to obtain your good opinion of it, the approbation alone of Mr. Mathews will be a sufficient reward for the task of writing it.
The pleasure which I have so often received from you in the exercise of your comic powers would alone prompt me to make some return which might show you, at least, that I can be grateful to those who have at any time afforded me pleasure.
With respect to your accepting or not accepting it, I wish you to act your pleasure entirely. If you think it will be of benefit to you by drawing a full house, or in any other way, it is perfectly at your service. If you think it will not succeed, will you have the goodness to enclose it under cover and direct to Mr. T.G.S., artist, 82 Great Titchfield Street; and I assure you beforehand that you need be under no apprehension of giving me mortification by refusing it. It would only convince me that I had not dramatic talents, and would serve, perhaps, to increase my ardor in the pursuit of my professional studies. If, however, it should meet with your approbation and you should wish to see me on the subject, a line directed as above enclosing your address shall receive immediate attention.
I am as yet undecided what shall be its name. The character of Oxyd I had designed for you. The farce is a first attempt and has received the approbation, not only of my theatrical friends generally, but of some confessed critics by whom it has been commended.
With sentiments of respect and esteem I remain, Your most obedient humble
servant,
T.G.S.
As no further mention of this play is made I fear that the great Charles Mathews did not find it available. There is also no trace of the play itself among the papers, which is rather to be regretted. We can only surmise that Morse came to the conclusion (very wisely) that he had no "dramatic talents," and that he turned to the pursuit of his professional studies with increased ardor.