"I have said the demonstration at Commencement was in bad taste. Why? you will say. Because Commencement day brings together the alumni of the college from all parts of the Union, from the South as well as the North. They are to meet on some common ground, and that common ground is the love that all are supposed to bear to the old Alma Mater, cherished by memories of past friendships in their college associations. The late Commencement was one of peculiar note. It was the first after the return of peace. The country had been sundered; the ties of friendship and of kindred had been broken; the bonds of college affection were weakened if not destroyed. What an opportunity for inaugurating the healing process! What an occasion for the display of magnanimity, of mollifying the pain of humiliation, of throwing a veil of oblivion over the past, of watering the perishing roots of fraternal affection and fostering the spirit of genuine union! But no. The Southern alumnus may come, but he comes to be humiliated still further. Can he join in the plaudits of those by whom he has been humbled? You may applaud, but do not ask him to join in your acclamations. He may be mourning the death of father, brother, yes, of mother and sister, by the very hands of those you are glorifying. Do not aggravate his sorrow by requiring him to join you in such a demonstration.

"No, my dear cousin, it was in bad taste to say the least of it, and it was equally impolitic to intercalate such a demonstration into the usual and appropriate exercises of the week. You expect, I presume, to have pupils from the South as heretofore; will such a sectional display be likely to attract them or to repel them? If they can go elsewhere they will not come to you. They will not be attracted by a perpetual memento before their eyes of your triumph over them. It was not politic. It is no improvement for Christian America to show less humanity than heathen Rome. The Romans never made demonstrations of triumph over the defeat of their countrymen in a civil war. It is no proof of superior civilization that we refuse to follow Roman example in such cases.

"My dear cousin, I have written you very frankly, but I trust you will not misunderstand me as having any personal reproaches to make for the part you have taken in the matter. We undoubtedly view the field from different standpoints. I concede to you conscientious motives in what you do. You are sustained by those around you, men of intellect, men of character. I respect them while I differ from them. I appeal, however, to a higher law, and that, I think, sustains me."

His strong and outspoken stand for what he believed to be the right made him many enemies, and he was called hard names by the majority of those by whom he was surrounded at the North; and yet the very fearlessness with which he advocated an unpopular point of view undoubtedly compelled increased respect for him. A proof of this is given in a letter to his daughter, Mrs. Lind, of December 28, 1865:—

"I also send you some clippings from the papers giving you an account of some of the doings respecting a statue proposed to me by the Common Council. The Mayor, who is a personal friend of mine, you see has vetoed the resolutions, not from a disapproval of their character, but because he did not like the locality proposed. He proposes the Central Park, and in this opinion all my friends concur.

"I doubt if they will carry the project through while I am alive, and it would really seem most proper to wait until I was gone before they put up my monument. I have nothing, however, to say on the subject. I am gratified, of course, to see the manifestation of kindly feeling, but, as the tinder of vainglory is in every human heart, I rather shrink from such a proposed demonstration lest a spark of flattery should kindle that tinder to an unseemly and destructive flame. I am not blind to the popularity, world-wide, of the Telegraph, and a sober forecast of the future foreshadows such a statue in some place. If ever erected I hope the prominent mottoes upon the pedestal will be: 'Not unto us, not unto us, but to God be the glory,' and the first message or telegram: 'What hath GOD wrought.'"

He says very much the same thing in a letter to his friend George Wood, of January 15, 1866, and he also says in this letter, referring to some instance of benevolent generosity by Mr. Kendall:—

"Is it not a noticeable fact that the wealth acquired by the Telegraph has in so many conspicuous instances been devoted to benevolent purposes? Mr. Kendall is prominent in his expenditures for great Christian enterprises, and think of Cornell, always esteemed by me as an ingenious and shrewd man, when employed by me to set the posts and put up the wire for the first line of Telegraphs between Washington and Baltimore, yet thought to be rather close and narrow-minded by those around him. But see, when his wealth had increased by his acquisition of Telegraph stock to millions (it is said), what enlarged and noble plans of public benefit were conceived and brought forth by him. I have viewed his course with great gratification as the evidence of God's blessing on what He hath wrought."

It has been made plain, I think, that Morse was essentially a leader in every movement in which he took an interest, whether it was artistic, scientific, religious, or political. This is emphasized by the number of requests made to him to assume the presidency of all sorts of organizations, and these requests multiplied as he advanced in years. Most of them he felt compelled to decline, for, as he says in a letter of March 13, 1866, declining the presidency of the Geographical and Statistical Society: "I am at an age when I find it necessary rather to be relieved from the cares and responsibilities already resting upon me, than to take upon me additional ones."

In many other cases he allowed his name to be used as vice-president or member, when he considered the object of the organization a worthy one, and his benefactions were only limited by his means.