"When Allston was painting his 'Dead Man Restored to Life,' in London," says Mr. Tuckerman, in his Book of the Artists, "he first modeled his figure in clay, and explained to Morse, who was then his pupil, the advantages resulting from a plan so frequently adopted by the old masters. His young countryman was at this time meditating his first composition—a dying Hercules—and proceeded at once to act upon this suggestion. Having prepared a model that exhibited the upper part of the body—which alone would be visible in the picture—he submitted it to Allston, who recognized so much truth in the anatomy and expression that he urgently advised its completion. After six weeks of careful labor, the statue was finished and sent to West for inspection. That venerable artist, upon entering the room, put on his spectacles, and as he walked around the model, carefully examining its details and general effect, a look of genuine satisfaction beamed from his face. He rang for an attendant and bade him call his son. 'Look here, Raphael,' he exclaimed, as the latter appeared; 'did I not always tell you that every painter could be a sculptor?' We may imagine the delight of the student at such commendation. The same day one of his fellow pupils called his attention to a notice issued by the Adelphi Society of Arts, offering a prize for the best single figure, to be modeled and sent to the rooms of the association within a certain period. The time fixed would expire in three days. Morse profited by the occasion, and placed his 'Dying Hercules' with the thirteen other specimens already entered. He was consequently invited to the meeting of the society on the evening when the decision was to be announced, and received from the hands of the Duke of Norfolk, the presiding officer, and in the presence of the foreign ambassadors, the gold medal. Perhaps no American ever started in the career of an artist under more flattering auspices; and we can not wonder that a beginning so successful encouraged the young painter to devote himself assiduously to study, with a view of returning to his own country fully prepared to illustrate the historical department of the art."

Morse spent four years in Europe in close study, and was then obliged to return to America by lack of means to carry on his education in the Old World. He had not indeed reached the high degree of proficiency which he had hoped to obtain before returning home, but he was possessed of natural talents and acquired skill, which fairly entitled him to recognition as one of our leading artists. This recognition never came to him, however, and his artist life in this country was a series of sorrowful disappointments. He found no opportunity of devoting himself to the higher branches of his art, and was obliged to confine himself entirely to portrait painting as a means of livelihood. His artist career is thus referred to by Mr. Tuckerman:

"Morse went abroad under the care of Allston, and was the pupil of West and Copley. Hence he is naturally regarded by a later generation as the connecting bond that unites the present and the past in the brief annals of our artist history. But his claim to such recognition does not lie altogether in the fact that he was a pioneer; it has been worthily evidenced by his constant devotion to the great cause itself. Younger artists speak of him with affection and respect, because he has ever been zealous in the promotion of a taste for, and a study of, the fine arts. Having entered the field at too early a period to realize the promise of his youth, and driven by circumstances from the high aims he cherished, misanthropy was never suffered to grow out of personal disappointment. He gazed reverently upon the goal it was not permitted him to reach, and ardently encouraged the spirit which he felt was only to be developed when wealth and leisure had given his countrymen opportunities to cultivate those tastes upon the prevalence of which the advancement of his favorite pursuit depends. When, after the failure of one of his elaborate projects, he resolved to establish himself in New York, he was grieved to find that many petty dissensions kept the artists from each other. He made it his business to heal these wounds and reconcile the animosities that thus retarded the progress of their common object. He sought out and won the confidence of his isolated brothers, and one evening invited them all to his room ostensibly to eat strawberries and cream, but really to beguile them into something like agreeable intercourse. He had experienced the good effect of a drawing club at Charleston, where many of the members were amateurs; and on the occasion referred to covered his table with prints, and scattered inviting casts around the apartment. A very pleasant evening was the result, a mutual understanding was established, and weekly meetings unanimously agreed upon. This auspicious gathering was the germ of the National Academy of Design, of which Morse became the first president, and before which he delivered the first course of lectures on the fine arts ever given in this country."

In 1829 Mr. Morse went abroad for the purpose of completing his art studies. He remained in Europe for more than three years, residing in the principal cities of the Continent. During his absence he was elected "Professor of the Literature of the Fine" in the University of the City of New York. He set out on his return home to accept this professorship in the autumn of 1832, sailing from Havre on board the packet-ship "Sully."

As has been stated, he had manifested a decided fondness for Chemistry and Natural Philosophy while at Yale College, where he was a pupil of Professor Silliman in the former science, and of Professor Day in the latter, and after his departure from college he had devoted all his leisure time to the pursuit of these studies. So great was his fondness for them that some of his friends declared their belief that he ought to abandon art and devote himself to science. In 1826-27 he had delivered, at the Athenæum in New York, the course of fine-art lectures to which reference has been made, and on alternate nights of the same season Professor J. Freeman Dana had lectured upon electro-magnetism, illustrating his remarks with the first electro-magnet (on Sturgeon's principle) ever seen in this country. Morse and Dana had been intimate friends, and had often held long conversations upon the subject of magnetism, and the magnet referred to had at length been given to the former by Professor Torrey. The interest which he had thus conceived in this instrument had never diminished, and his investigations and studies had never ceased, so that at the time of his departure from France in the "Sully," in 1832, he was one of the best informed men upon the subject to be found in any country.

Among his fellow-passengers were a number of persons of intelligence and cultivation, one of whom had but recently witnessed in Paris some highly interesting experiments with the electro-magnet, the object of which was to prove how readily the electric spark could be obtained from the magnet, and the rapidity with which it could be disseminated. To most of the passengers this relation was deeply interesting, but to all save one it was merely the recital of a curious experiment. That one exception was Mr. Morse. To him the development of this newly-discovered property of electricity was more than interesting. It showed him his true mission in life, the way to his true destiny. Art was not his proper field now, for however great his abilities as an artist, he was possessed of genius of a higher, more useful type, and it was henceforth his duty to employ it. He thought long and earnestly upon the subject which the words of his fellow-passenger had so freshly called up, pacing the deck under the silent stars, and rocked in his wakeful berth by the ocean whose terrors his genius was to tame, and whose vast depths his great invention was to set at naught. He had long been convinced that electricity was to furnish the means of rapid communication between distant points, of which the world was so much in need; and the experiments which his new acquaintance had witnessed in Paris removed from his mind the last doubt of the feasibility of the scheme. Being of an eminently practical character, he at once set to work to discover how this could be done, and succeeded so well that before the "Sully" reached New York he had conceived "not merely the idea of an electric telegraph, but of an electro-magnetic and chemical recording telegraph, substantially and essentially as it now exists," and had invented an alphabet of signs, the same in all important respects as that now in use. "The testimony to the paternity of the idea in Morse's mind, and to his acts and drawings on board the ship, is ample. His own testimony is corroborated by all the passengers (with a single exception), who testified with him before the courts, and was considered conclusive by the judges; and the date of 1832 is therefore fixed by this evidence as the date of Morse's conception, and realization also—so far as the drawings could embody the conception—of the telegraph system which now bears his name."

But though invented in 1832, it was not until 1835 (during which time he was engaged in the discharge of the duties of his professorship in the University of the City of New York) that he was enabled to complete his first recording instrument. This was but a poor, rude instrument, at the best, and was very far from being equal to his perfected invention. It embodied his idea, however, and was a good basis for subsequent improvements. By its aid he was able to send signals from a given point to the end of a wire half a mile in length, but as yet there was no means of receiving them back again from the other extremity. He continued to experiment on his invention, and made several improvements in it. It was plain from the first that he needed a duplicate of his instrument at the other end of his wire, but he was unable for a long time to have one made. At length he acquired the necessary funds, and in July, 1837, had a duplicate instrument constructed, and thus perfected his plan. His telegraph now worked to his entire satisfaction, and he could easily send his signals to the remote end of his line and receive replies in return, and answer signals sent from that terminus. Having brought it to a successful completion, he exhibited it to large audiences at the University of New York, in September, 1837. In October, 1837, Professor Morse filed a caveat to secure his invention, but his patent was not obtained until 1840.

He now entered upon that period of the inventor's life which has proved so disastrous to many, and so wearying and disheartening to all—the effort to bring his invention into general use. It was commonly believed that, although the invention was successful when used for such short distances as had been tried in the City of New York, it would fail when tested by longer lines. Morse was confident, however, that this was not the case, and in December, 1837, he went to Washington to solicit from the Government an appropriation for the construction of an experimental line from Washington City to Baltimore—a distance of forty miles. This line he declared would thoroughly test the practicability and utility of the telegraph. His petition was laid before Congress, and a committee appointed to consider it. He stated his plan to this body, and proved its practicability by actual experiments with his instruments. Considerable interest in the subject was thus aroused in Congress and throughout the country, but he derived no benefit from it. If men spoke of his telegraph, it was only to ridicule it, or to express their doubts of its success. This was especially the case in Congress, and it was very uncertain whether that body would sustain the report from the committee in favor of the invention. The session wore away in this manner, and at length ended without any action being taken in the matter.

Having failed to secure the assistance of Congress, Professor Morse went to Europe in the spring of 1838, for the purpose of enlisting the aid of the governments there in bringing his invention into use. He was unsuccessful. In England a patent was refused him, and in France he merely obtained a worthless brevet d'invention. He tried several other countries, but was equally unsuccessful in all, and he returned home almost disheartened, but not entirely cast down. For four years he had to struggle hard for a living. He was very poor, and, as one of his friends has since declared, had literally "to coin his mind for bread." His sturdy independence of character would not allow him to accept assistance from any one, although there were friends ready and even anxious to help him in his troubles. Alone and manfully he fought his way through these dark days, still hopeful of success for his invention, and patiently seeking to improve it wherever opportunity presented itself. At length, in 1840, he received his long-delayed patent from the General Government, and, encouraged by this, determined to make another effort to bring his telegraph into use.

He was not able to do so until the session of Congress of 1842-43, when he presented a second petition to that body, asking its aid in the construction of an experimental line between Baltimore and Washington. He had to encounter a great degree of skepticism and ridicule, with many other obstacles, not the least of which was the difficulty of meeting the expense of remaining in Washington and urging his invention upon the Government. Still he persevered, although it seemed to be hoping against hope, as the session drew near its close, and his scanty stock of money grew daily smaller. On the evening of the 3d of March, 1843, he returned from the Capitol to his lodgings utterly disheartened. It was the last night of the session, and nothing had been done in the matter of his petition. He sat up late into the night arranging his affairs so as to take his departure for home on the following day. It was useless to remain in Washington any longer. Congress would adjourn the next day, and his last hope of success had been shattered.