Samuel F. B. Morse, His Letters and Journals / In Two Volumes, Volume I.

by Samuel Finley Breese Morse

"To my friends here I know I seem to be cheerful and happy, but a cheerful countenance with me covers an aching heart, and often have I feigned a more than ordinary cheerfulness to hide a more than ordinary anguish.

"I am blessed with prosperity in my profession. I have just received another commission from the corporation of the city to paint a common-sized portrait of Rev. Mr. Stanford for them, to be placed in the almshouse."

The loss of his young wife was the great tragedy of Morse's life. Time, with her soothing touch, healed the wound, but the scar remained. Hers must have been, indeed, a lovely character. Professor Benjamin Silliman, Sr., one of her warmest friends, composed the epitaph which still remains inscribed upon her tombstone in the cemetery at New Haven. (See opposite page.)

IN MEMORY OF LUCRETIA PICKERING WIFE OF SAMUEL F.B. MORSE WHO DIED 7TH OF FEBRUARY A.D. 1825, AGED 25 YEARS.

SHE COMBINED, IN HER CHARACTER AND PERSON, A RARE ASSEMBLAGE OF EXCELLENCES: BEAUTIFUL IN FORM, FEATURES AND EXPRESSION PECULIARLY BLAND IN HER MANNERS, HIGHLY CULTIVATED IN MIND, SHE IRRESISTIBLY DREW ATTENTION, LOVE, AND RESPECT; DIGNIFIED WITHOUT HAUGHTINESS, AMIABLE WITHOUT TAMENESS, FIRM WITHOUT SEVERITY, AND CHEERFUL WITHOUT LEVITY, HER UNIFORM SWEETNESS OF TEMPER SPREAD PERPETUAL SUNSHINE AROUND EVERY CIRCLE IN WHICH SHE MOVED. "WHEN THE EAR HEARD HER IT BLESSED HER, WHEN THE EYE SAW HER IT GAVE WITNESS TO HER." IN SUFFERINGS THE MOST KEEN, HER SERENITY OF MIND NEVER FAILED HER; DEATH TO HER HAD NO TERRORS, THE GRAVE NO GLOOM. THOUGH SUDDENLY CALLED FROM EARTH, ETERNITY WAS NO STRANGER TO HER THOUGHTS, BUT A WELCOME THEME OF CONTEMPLATION. RELIGION WAS THE SUN THAT ILLUMINED EVERY VIRTUE, AND UNITED ALL IN ONE BOW OF BEAUTY. HERS WAS THE RELIGION OF THE GOSPEL; JESUS CHRIST HER FOUNDATION, THE AUTHOR AND FINISHER OF HER FAITH. IN HIM SHE RESTS, IN SURE EXPECTATION OF A GLORIOUS RESURRECTION.

With a heavy heart, but bravely determining not to be overwhelmed by this crushing blow, Morse took up his work again. He finished the portrait of Lafayette, and it now hangs in the City Hall in New York. Writing of it many years later to a gentleman who had made some enquiries concerning it, he says:—

"In answer to yours of the 8th instant, just received, I can only say it is so long since I have seen the portrait I painted of General Lafayette for the City of New York, that, strange to say, I find it difficult to recall even its general characteristics.

"That portrait has a melancholy interest for me, for it was just as I had commenced the second sitting of the General at Washington that I received the stunning intelligence of Mrs. Morse's death, and was compelled abruptly to suspend the work. I preserve, as a gratifying memorial, the letter of condolence and sympathy sent in to me at the time by the General, and in which he speaks in flattering terms of the promise of the portrait as a likeness.

"I must be frank, however, in my judgment of my own works of that day. This portrait was begun under the sad auspices to which I have alluded, and, up to the close of the work, I had a series of constant interruptions of the same sad character. A picture painted under such circumstances can scarcely be expected to do the artist justice, and as a work of art I cannot praise it. Still, it is a good likeness, was very satisfactory to the General, and he several times alluded to it in my presence in after years (when I was a frequent visitor to him in Paris) in terms of praise.

"It is a full-length, standing figure, the size of life. He is represented as standing at the top of a flight of steps, which he has just ascended upon a terrace, the figure coming against a glowing sunset sky, indicative of the glory of his own evening of life. Upon his right, if I remember, are three pedestals, one of which is vacant as if waiting for his bust, while the two others are surmounted by the busts of Washington and Franklin—the two associated eminent historical characters of his own time. In a vase on the other side is a flower-the helianthus—with its face toward the sun, in allusion to the characteristic stern, uncompromising consistency of Lafayette-a trait of character which I then considered, and still consider, the great prominent trait of that distinguished man."