Samuel F. B. Morse, His Letters and Journals Volume I Part 27

My fear with regard to the measure of my affection toward her was not that I might fail of 'loving her as my own flesh,' but that I should put her in the place of Him who has said, 'Thou shalt have no other G.o.ds but me.' I felt this to be my greatest danger, and to be saved from this _idolatry_ was often the subject of my earnest prayers.

"If I had desired anything in my dear Lucretia different from what she was, it would have been that she had been _less lovely_. My whole soul seemed wrapped up in her; with her was connected all that I expected of happiness on earth. Is it strange, then, that I now feel this void, this desolateness, this loneliness, this heart-sickness; that I should feel as if my very heart itself had been torn from me?

"To any one but those who knew dear Lucretia what I have said might seem to be but the extravagance of an excited imagination; but to you, who knew the dear object I lament, all that I have said must but feebly shadow her to your memory."

[Ill.u.s.tration: STUDY FOR PORTRAIT OF LAFAYETTE Now in New York Public Library]

It was well for him that he found constant occupation for his hand and brain at this critical period of his life. The Fates had dealt him this cruel blow for some good reason best known to themselves. He was being prepared for a great mission, and it was meet that his soul, like gold, should be purified by fire; but, at the same time, that the blow might not utterly overwhelm him, success in his chosen profession seemed again to be within his grasp.

Writing to his parents from New York, on April 8, 1825, he says:--

"I have as much as I can do, but after being fatigued at night and having my thoughts turned to my irreparable loss, I am ready almost to give up.

The thought of seeing my dear Lucretia, and returning home to her, served always to give me fresh courage and spirits whenever I felt worn down by the labors of the day, and now I hardly know what to subst.i.tute in her place.

"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 a.s.sEMBLAGE 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 SUNs.h.i.+NE 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 crus.h.i.+ng 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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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 circ.u.mstances 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 Was.h.i.+ngton and Franklin--the two a.s.sociated 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."

Morse, like many men who have excelled in one branch of the fine arts, often made excursions into one of the others. I find among his papers many sc.r.a.ps of poetry and some more ambitious efforts, and while they do not, perhaps, ent.i.tle him to claim a poet's crown, some of them are worthy of being rescued from oblivion. The following sonnet was sent to Lafayette under the circ.u.mstances which Morse himself thus describes:--

"Written on the loss of a faithful dog of Lafayette's on board the steamboat which sank in the Mississippi. The dog, supposing his master still on board, could not be persuaded to leave the cabin, but perished with the vessel.

"Lost, from thy care to know thy master free Can we thy self-devotion e'er forget?

'Twas kindred feeling in a less degree To that which thrilled the soul of Lafayette.

He freely braved our storms, our dangers met, Nor left the s.h.i.+p till we had 'scaped the sea.

Thine was a spark of n.o.ble feeling bright Caught from the fire that warms thy master's heart.

His was of Heaven's kindling, and no small part Of that pure fire is His. We hail the light Where'er it s.h.i.+nes, in heaven, in man, in brute; We hail that sacred light howe'er minute, Whether its glimmering in thy bosom rest Or blaze full orb'd within thy master's breast."

This was sent to General Lafayette on the 4th of July, 1825, accompanied by the following note:--

"In asking your acceptance of the enclosed poetic trifle, I have not the vanity to suppose it can contribute much to your gratification; but if it shall be considered as an endeavor to show to you some slight return of grat.i.tude for the kind sympathy you evinced towards me at a time of deep affliction, I shall have attained my aim. Gladly would I offer to you any service, but, while a whole nation stands waiting to answer the expression of your smallest wish, my individual desire to serve you can only be considered as contending for a portion of that high honor which all feel in serving you."

Concealing from the world his great sorrow, and bravely striving always to maintain a cheerful countenance, Morse threw himself with energy into his work in New York, endeavoring to keep every minute occupied.

He seems to have had his little daughter with him for a while, for in a letter of March 12, 1825, occurs this sentence: "Little Susan has had the toothache once or twice, and I have promised her a doll if she would have it out to-day--I am this moment stopped by her coming in and showing me the _tooth out_, so I shall give her the doll."

But he soon found that it would be impossible for him to do justice to his work and at same time fulfil his duties as a parent, and for many years afterwards his motherless children found homes with different relatives, but the expense of their keep and education was always borne by their father.

On the 1st of May, 1825, he moved into new quarters, having rented an entire house at No. 20 Ca.n.a.l Street for the sum of four hundred dollars a year, and he says, "My new establishment will be very commodious for my professional studies, and I do not think its being so far '_up town_'

will, on the whole, be any disadvantage to me."

"May 26, 1825. I have at length become comfortably settled and begin to feel at home in my new establishment. All things at present go smoothly.

Brother Charles Walker and Mr. Agate join with me in breakfast and tea, and we find it best for convenience, economy, and time to dine from home,--it saves the perplexity of providing marketing and the care of stores, and, besides, we think it will be more economical and the walk will be beneficial." While success in his profession seemed now a.s.sured, and while orders poured in so fast that he gladly a.s.sisted some of his less fortunate brother artists by referring his would-be patrons to them, he also took a deep interest in the general artistic movement of the time.

He was, by nature, intensely enthusiastic, and his strong personality ever impressed itself on individuals and communities with which he came in contact. He was a born leader of men, and, like so many other leaders, often so forgetful of self in his eager desire for the general good as to seriously interfere with his material prosperity. This is what happened to him now, for he gave so liberally of himself in the formation of a new artistic body in New York, and in the preparation of lectures, that he encroached seriously on time which might have been more lucratively employed.

His brother Sidney comments on this in a letter to the other brother Richard: "Finley is well and in good spirits, though not advancing very rapidly in his business. He is full of the Academy and of his lectures-- can hardly talk on any other subject. I despair of ever seeing him rich or even at ease in his pecuniary circ.u.mstances from efforts of his own, though able to do it with so little effort. But he may be in a better way, perhaps, of getting a fortune in his present course than he would be in the laborious path which we are too apt to think is the only road to wealth and ultimate ease."

We have seen that Morse was one of the founders of an academy of art in Charleston, South Carolina, and we have seen that, after his departure from that city, this academy languished and died. Is it an unfair inference that, if he had remained permanently in Charleston, so sad a fate would not have overtaken the infant academy? In support of this inference we shall now see that he was largely instrumental in bringing into being an artistic a.s.sociation, over which he presided for many years, and which has continued to prosper until, at the present day, it is the leading artistic body in this country.

When Morse settled in New York in 1825 there existed an American Academy of Arts, of which Colonel Trumbull, the celebrated painter, was the president. While eminent as a painter, Trumbull seems to have lacked executive ability and to have been rather haughty and overbearing in his manner, for Morse found great dissatisfaction existing among the professional artists and students.

At first it was thought that, by bringing their grievances before the board of directors of the Academy, conditions might be changed, and on the 8th of November, 1825, a meeting was called in the rooms of the Historical Society, and the "New York Drawing a.s.sociation" was formed, and Morse was chosen to preside over its meetings. It was not intended, at first, that this a.s.sociation should be a rival of the old Academy, but that it should give to its members facilities which were difficult of attainment in the Academy, and should, perhaps, force that inst.i.tution to become more liberal.

It was not successful in the latter effort, for at a meeting of the Drawing a.s.sociation on the evening of the 14th of January, 1825, Morse, the president, proposed certain resolutions which he introduced by the following remarks:--

"We have this evening a.s.sumed a new att.i.tude in the community; our negotiations with the Academy are at an end; our union with it has been frustrated after every proper effort on our part to accomplish it. The two who were elected as directors from our ticket have signified their non-acceptance of the office. We are therefore left to organize ourselves on a plan that shall meet the wishes of us all.

"A plan of an inst.i.tution which shall be truly liberal, which shall be mutually beneficial, which shall really encourage our respective arts, cannot be devised in a moment; it ought to be the work of great caution and deliberation and as simple as possible in its machinery. Time will be required for the purpose. We must hear from distant countries to obtain their experience, and it must necessarily be, perhaps, many months before it can be matured.

"In the mean time, however, a preparatory, simple organization can be made, and should be made as soon as possible, to prevent dismemberment, which may be attempted by outdoor influence. On this subject let us all be on our guard; let us point to our public doc.u.ments to any who ask what we have done and why we have done it, while we go forward minding only our own concerns, leaving the Academy of Fine Arts as much of our thoughts as they will permit us, and, bending our attention to our own affairs, act as if no such inst.i.tution existed.

"One of our dangers at present is division and anarchy from a want of organization suited to the present exigency. We are now composed of artists in the four arts of design, namely, painting, sculpture, architecture, and engraving. Some of us are professional artists, others amateurs, others students. To the professed and practical artist belongs the management of all things relating to schools, premiums, and lectures, so that amateur and student may be most profited. The amateurs and students are those alone who can contend for the premiums, while the body of professional artists exclusively judge of their rights to premiums and award them.

"How shall we first make the separation has been a question which is a little perplexing. There are none of us who can a.s.sume to be the body of artists without giving offence to others, and still every one must perceive that, to organize an academy, there must be the distinction between professional artists, amateurs who are students, and professional students. The first great division should be the body of professional artists from the amateurs and students, const.i.tuting the body who are to manage the entire concerns of the inst.i.tution, who shall be its officers, etc.

"There is a method which strikes me as obviating the difficulty; place it on the broad principle of the formation of any society--universal suffrage. We are now a mixed body; it is necessary for the benefit of all that a separation into cla.s.ses be made. Who shall make it?

"Why, obviously the body itself. Let every member of this a.s.sociation take home with him a list of all the members of it. Let each one select for himself from the whole list _fifteen_, whom he would call professional artists, to be the ticket which he will give in at the next meeting.

"These fifteen thus chosen shall elect not less than _ten_, nor more than _fifteen_, professional artists, in or out of the a.s.sociation, who shall (with the previously elected fifteen) const.i.tute the body to be called the National Academy of the Arts of Design. To these shall be delegated the power to regulate its entire concerns, choose its members, select its students, etc.

"Thus will the germ be formed to grow up into an inst.i.tution which we trust will be put on such principles as to encourage--not to depress--the arts. When this is done our body will no longer be the Drawing a.s.sociation, but the National Academy of the Arts of Design, still including all the present a.s.sociation, but in different capacities.

"One word as to the name 'National Academy of the Arts of Design.' Any less name than 'National' would be taking one below the American Academy, and therefore is not desirable. If we were simply the 'a.s.sociated Artists,' their name would swallow us up; therefore 'National' seems a proper one as to the arts of design. These are painting, sculpture, architecture, and engraving, while the fine arts include poetry, music, landscape gardening, and the histrionic arts. Our name, therefore, expresses the entire character of our inst.i.tution and that only."