ried to steal his invention from him.

They pretended to have invented telegraphs.

The nations of Europe did not treat him justly.

But, little by little, the telegraph lines were built over the
country.

Little, by little, the world came to know and love the name of
Samuel F.B. Morse.

Honors of all sorts were given him.

But, through all, he was the same kind, patient man.

The Sultan of Turkey was the first foreign prince to honor Mr.
Morse.

But he was followed by many others.

You have noticed that Mr. Morse never had a chance to enjoy a home.

In 1847, he bought a beautiful home upon the Hudson.

In the following year he married Miss Griswold, a lady born at Sault
Ste. Marie.

They called their new home Locust Grove.

There they enjoyed life greatly.

Professor Morse had a telegraph instrument in his study.

He afterwards bought a beautiful home in New York City.

There they spent their winters.

These words were written by a friend to Mrs. Morse, alluding to her
husband:--

"Though he did not 'snatch the thunder from the heaven,' he gave the
electric current thought, and bound the earth in light."

To Mr. Morse belongs also the honor of the submarine telegraph.

A successful telegraph of this kind was laid near New York City.

Other gentlemen became interested in this.

Chief among these were Mr. Cyrus W. Field and his brother David
Dudley Field.

The story of the cable laid across the Atlantic is a long one.

But Mr. Morse lived to see this, too, a success.

When Mr. Morse was eighty years of age, his statue was erected in
Central Park, New York.

This was done by the telegraph operators of the country.

It represented Mr. Morse as sending the first message of the
telegraph, "What hath God wrought."

Mr. Morse was present when the statue was unveiled.

In 1872 he became very ill.

His busy life was at an end.

The whole country mourned, as news flashed over the wires that
Professor Morse was dying.

The light was going out of those bright, kind eyes.

The fingers that harnessed the steed, Lightning were powerless.

The great brain, that had worked so hard for the world, was ready
for rest.

The great heart, that never kept an unkind thought, ceased to beat.

All America mourned for him.

Messages were received from Europe, Asia and Africa, paying tribute
to the dead.

Few men have lived such lives as did Samuel Finley Breese Morse.

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