r, and from that time
on it is likely that many had speculated on the possibility
of sending intelligence by wire. Some experiments had been
made, and with a certain degree of success, but time still
waited for the hour and the man, and the hour and the man
met in that fertile October day in the cabin of the Sully.

"If it can go ten miles without stopping, I can make it go
round the world," said Morse to his fellow-passengers, his
imagination expanding in the ardor of his new idea.

"Well, captain," he said, with a laugh, on leaving the ship,
"should you hear of the telegraph one of these days as the
wonder of the world, remember that the discovery was made on
board the good ship Sully."

The inventor, indeed, was possessed with his new
conceptions, mad with an idea, as we may say, and glad to
set foot once more on shore, that he might put his plans in
practice.

This proved no easy task. He was none too well provided with
funds, and the need of making a living was the first
necessity that presented itself to him. He experimented as
much as he was able, but three years passed before his
efforts yielded a satisfactory result. Then, with a circuit
of seventeen hundred feet of wire, and a wooden clock,
adapted by himself to suit his purpose, he managed to send a
message from end to end of this wire. It was not very
legible. He could make some sense of it. His friends could
not. But all were much interested in the experiment. Many
persons witnessed these results, as shown in a large room of
the New York University, in 1837. They seemed wonderful;
much was said about them; but nobody seemed to believe that
the apparatus was more than a curious and unprofitable toy,
and capitalists buttoned their pockets when the question of
backing up this wild inventor's fancy with money was
broached.

But by this time Mr. Morse was a complete captive to his
idea. Body and soul he was its slave. The question of daily
fare became secondary; that of driving his idea over and
through all obstacles became primary. His business as an
artist was neglected. He fell into want, into almost abject
poverty. For twenty-four hours he went without food. But not
for a moment did he lose faith in his invention, or remit
his efforts to find a capitalist with sufficient confidence
in him to risk his money in it.

Failing with the private rich, he tried to obtain public
support, went to Washington in 1838, exhibited his apparatus
to interested