ng any sign of contrition; but when at
length Doctor Dwight said to him, "Morse, you are no painter; this is a
rude attempt, a complete failure," he was touched to the quick, and
could not keep back the tears.

The canvas, executed by Morse at the age of nineteen, of the landing of
the Pilgrims, which may be seen at the Charlestown City Hall, is
certainly not a masterpiece. Yet the lad was determined to learn to
paint, and to this end accompanied Allston to Europe, where he became a
pupil of West, and, it is said, also of Copley.

West had become the foremost painter of his time in England when our
ambitious young artist was presented to him, but from the beginning he
took a great interest in the Charlestown lad, and showed him much
attention. Once in after years Morse related to a friend this most
interesting anecdote of his great master: "I called upon Mr. West at his
house in Newman Street one morning, and in conformity to the order given
to his servant Robert always to admit Mr. Leslie and myself even if he
was engaged in his private studies, I was shown into his studio.

"As I entered a half-length portrait of George III. stood before me on
an easel, and Mr. West was sitting with his back toward me copying from
it upon canvas. My name having been mentioned to him, he did not turn,
but pointing with the pencil he had in his hand to the portrait from
which he was copying, he said, 'Do you see that picture, Mr. Morse?'

"'Yes, sir,' I said, 'I perceive it is the portrait of the king.'

"'Well,' said Mr. West, 'the king was sitting to me for that portrait
when the box containing the American Declaration of Independence was
handed to him.'

"'Indeed,' I answered; 'and what appeared to be the emotions of the
king? What did he say?'

"'His reply,' said Mr. West, 'was characteristic of the goodness of his
heart: "If they can be happier under the government they have chosen
than under me, I shall be happy."'"[11]

Morse returned to Boston in the autumn of 1815, and there set up a
studio. But he was not too occupied in painting to turn a hand to
invention, and we find him the next winter touring New Hampshire and
Vermont trying to sell to towns and villages a fire-engine pump he had
invented, while seeking commissions to paint portraits at fifteen
dollars a head. It was that winter that he met in Concord, New
Hampshire, Miss Lucretia P. Walker, whom he married in the autumn of
1818, and whose death in February, 1825