priests, six or eight in number, and then the relatives and friends of
the deceased. At the grave the priests and assistants chanted a moment,
the coffin was lowered, the earth thrown upon it, and then an elder
priest muttered something over the grave, and, with an instrument
consisting of a silver ball with a small handle, made the sign of the
cross over the body, which ceremony was repeated by each one in the
procession, to whom in succession the instrument was handed.

[Footnote 1: This must be a mistake.]

"There were, indeed, two or three real mourners. One young man in
particular, to whom the female might have been related as wife or sister,
showed all the signs of heartfelt grief. It did not break out into
extravagant gesture or loud cries, but the tears, as they flowed down his
manly face, seemed to be forced out by the agony within, which he in vain
endeavored to suppress. The struggle to restrain them was manifest, and,
as he made the sign of the cross at the grave in his turn, the feebleness
with which he performed the ceremony showed that the anguish of his heart
had almost overcome his physical strength. I longed to speak to him and
to sympathize with him, but my ignorance of the language of his country
locked me out from any such purpose....

"Accustomed to the proper and orderly manner of keeping the Sabbath so
universal in our country, there are many things that will strike an
American not only as singular but disgusting. While in Paris we found it
to be customary, not only on week days but also on the Sabbath, to have
musicians introduced towards the close of dinner, who play and sing all
kinds of songs. We supposed that this custom was a peculiarity of the
capital, but this day after dinner a hand-organ played waltzes and songs,
and, as if this were not enough, a performer on the guitar succeeded,
playing songs, while two or three persons with long cards filled with
specimens of natural history--lobsters, crabs, and shells of various
kinds--were busy in displaying their handiwork to us, and each concluded
his part of the ceremony by presenting a little cup for a contribution."

The letter ends here, and, as I have found but few more of that year, we
must depend on his hurriedly written notebooks for a further record of
his wanderings.

Leaving Dijon on January 18, Morse and his companions continued their
journey through Chalons-sur-Saone, to Macon and Lyons, which they reached
late at night. The ne