To this Morse replied:—­

“I send you a sketch of the Morse coat of arms, according to your request, to do as you please with it.  I am no advocate of heraldic devices, but the motto in this case sanctions it with me.  I wish to live and die in its spirit:—­

“‘Deo non armis fido.’”

I have said that many on whom Morse relied proved faithless, and, while I do not intend to go into the details of all these troubles, it is only right that, in the interest of historical truth, some mention should be made of some of these men.  The one who, next to F.O.J.  Smith, caused the most trouble to Morse and his associates, was Henry O’Reilly.  Mr. Reid, in his “Telegraph in America,” thus describes him:—­

“Henry O’Reilly was in many respects a wonderful man.  His tastes were cultivated.  His instincts were fine.  He was intelligent and genial.  His energy was untiring, his hopefulness shining.  His mental activity and power of continuous labor were marvellous.  He was liberal, generous, profuse, full of the best instincts of his nation.  But he lacked prudence in money matters, was loose in the use of it, had little veneration for contracts, was more anxious for personal fame than wealth.  He formed and broke friendships with equal rapidity, was bitter in his hates, was impatient of restraint.  My personal attachment to him was great and sincere.  We were friends for many years until he became the agent of F.O.J.  Smith, and my duties threw me in collision with him.”

It was not until some years after his first connection with the telegraph, in 1845, that O’Reilly turned against Morse and his associates.  This will be referred to at the proper time, but I have introduced him now to give point to the following extract from a letter of his to Morse, dated December 28, 1845:—­

“Do you recollect a person who, while under your hands for a daguerreotype in 1840-41, broke accidentally an eight-dollar lens?  Tho’ many tho’t you ‘visionary’ in your ideas of telegraphic communication, that person, you may recollect, took a lively interest in the matter, and made some suggestions about the propriety of pressing the matter energetically upon Congress and upon public attention.  You seemed then to feel pleased to find a person who took so lively an interest in your invention, and you will see by the enclosed circular that that person (your humble servant) has not lost any of his early confidence in its value.  May you reap an adequate reward for the glorious thought!”

It was one of life’s little ironies that the man who could thus call down good fortune on the head of the inventor should soon after become one of the chief instruments in the effort to rob him of his “adequate reward,” and his good name as well.  Morse had such bitter experiences with several persons, who turned from friends to enemies, that it is no wonder he wrote as follows to Vail some time after this date:—­