things which have
fallen under your notice. We shall no doubt agree when we shall have
opportunity to compare notes, and each is made acquainted with all that
the other knows. I confidently expect an honorable peace in the course of
six months, but may be deceived, as the future course of things cannot be
foreseen.

"The present is one of the finest and most promising seasons I ever knew;
the harvest to appearance will be very abundant. Heaven appears to be
rewarding this part of the country for their conduct in opposing the
present war."

Perhaps the good father did not mean to be malicious, but this is rather
a wicked little thrust at the son's vehemently expressed political views.
On this very same date, July 10, 1813, Morse writes to his parents:--

"I have just heard of the unfortunate capture of the Chesapeake. Is our
infant Hercules to be strangled at his birth? Where is the spirit of
former times which kindled in the hearts of the Bostonians? Will they
still be unmoved, or must they learn from more bitter experience that
Britain is not for peace, and that the only way to procure it is to join
heart and hand in a vigorous prosecution of the war?

"It is not the time now to think of party; the country is in danger; but
I hope to hear soon that the honor of our navy is retrieved. The brave
Captain Lawrence will never, I am sure, be forgotten; his career of glory
has been short but brilliant.

"All is rejoicing here; illuminations and fireworks and _feux de joie_
for the capture of the Chesapeake and a victory in Spain.

"Imagine yourself, if possible, in my situation in an enemy's country and
hearing songs of triumph and exultation on the misfortunes of my
countrymen, and this, too, on the 4th of July. A less ardent spirit than
mine might perhaps tolerate it, but I cannot. I do long to be at home, to
be in the navy, and teach these insolent Englishmen how to respect us....

"The Marquis Wellington has achieved a great victory in Spain, and bids
fair to drive the French out very soon. At this I rejoice as ought every
man who abhors tyranny and loves liberty. I wish the British success
against everything but _my country_. I often say with Cowper: 'England,
with all thy faults, I love thee still.'

"I am longing for Edwards' comparison between poetry and painting, and to
know how he will prove the former superior to the latter. A painter
_must_ be a poet, but a poet need not be a painter. How will he get over