ng of the angel."

This sounds almost like a prophetic vision, written by the pencil of the
man who, in a few years from then, was to make the lightning go and come
at his bidding.

"_July 4._ This anniversary of the day of our national birth found but
two Americans in Venice. We met in the evening over a cup of coffee and
thought and talked of the happiest of countries. We had no patriotic
toasts, but the sentiments of our hearts were--'Peace be within thy walls
and prosperity within thy palaces.' Never on any anniversary of our
Independence have I felt so strongly the great reason I have for
gratitude in having been born in such a country. When I think of the
innumerable blessings we enjoy over every other country in the world, I
am constrained to praise God who hath made us to differ, for 'He hath not
dealt so with any nation, and as for his judgments, we have not known
them.' While pestilence and famine and war surround me here in these
devoted countries, I fix my thoughts on one bright spot on earth; truly
(if our too ungrateful countrymen would but see it), truly a terrestrial
paradise."

This attack of nostalgia was probably largely due to atmospheric
conditions, for at least one thunderstorm seems to have been a matter of
daily occurrence. This, added to the noisome odors arising from the
canals, affected his health, for he complains of feeling more unwell than
at any time since he left home. It must, therefore, have been with no
feelings of great regret that he packed his belongings and prepared to
leave Venice with a companion, Mr. Ferguson, of Natchez, on the 18th of
July. His objective point was Paris, but he planned to linger by the way
and take a leisurely course through the Italian lake region, Switzerland,
and Germany. The notebooks give a detailed but rather dry account of the
daily happenings. It was, presumably, Morse's intention to elaborate
these, at some future day, into a more entertaining record of his
wanderings; but this was never done. I shall, therefore, pass on rapidly,
touching but lightly on the incidents of the journey, which were, in the
main, without special interest. The route lay through Padua, Vicenza,
Verona, and Brescia to Milan. From Vicenza a side trip was made to the
watering-place of Recoaro, where a few days were most delightfully spent
in the company of the English consul at Venice, Mr. Money, and his
family.

"Recoaro, like all watering-places, is beginning to be the res