commissions?

With great respect, Sir,
Your most obedient servant,
S.F.B. MORSE.

While this letter was written in 1834, the final decision of the
committee was not made until 1837, but I shall anticipate a little and
give the result which had such a momentous effect on Morse's career.
There was every reason to believe that his request would be granted, and
he and his friends, many of whom endorsed by letter his candidacy, had no
fear as to the result; but here again Fate intervened and ordered
differently.

Among the committee men in Congress to whom this matter was referred was
John Quincy Adams, ex-President of the United States. In discussing the
subject, Mr. Adams submitted a resolution opening the competition to
foreign artists as well as to American, giving it as his opinion that
there were no artists in this country of sufficient talent properly to
execute such monumental works. The artists and their friends were,
naturally, greatly incensed at this slur cast upon them, and an indignant
and remarkably able reply appeared anonymously in the New York "Evening
Post." The authorship of this article was at once saddled on Morse, who
was known to wield a facile and fearless pen. Mr. Adams took great
offense, and, as a result, Morse's name was rejected and his great
opportunity passed him by. There can be no reasonable doubt that, had he
received this commission, he would have deferred the perfecting of his
telegraphic device until others had so far distanced him in the race that
he could never have overtaken them.

Instead of his having been the author of the "Evening Post" article, it
transpired that he had not even heard of Mr. Adams's resolution until his
friend Fenimore Cooper, the real author of the answer, told him of both
attack and reply.

This was the second great tragedy of Morse's life; the first was the
untimely death of his young wife, and this other marked the death of his
hopes and ambitions as an artist. He was stunned. The blow was as
unexpected as it was overwhelming, and what added to its bitterness was
that it had been innocently dealt by the hand of one of his dearest
friends, who had sought to render him a favor. The truth came out too
late to influence the decision of the committee; the die was cast, and
his whole future was changed in the twinkling of an eye; for what had
been to him a joy and an inspiration, he now turned from in despair. He
could not, of course, realize at the time tha