Morse, with his Puritan background and training, was not much edified by the ritual of the Catholic Church, and, after describing it, he adds:—­

“I looked around the church to ascertain what was the effect upon the multitude assembled.  The females, kneeling in their chairs, many with their prayer-books reading during the whole ceremony, seemed part of the time engaged in devotional exercises.  Far be it from me to say there were not some who were actually devout, hard as it is to conceive of such a thing; but this I will say, that everything around them, instead of aiding devotion, was calculated entirely to destroy it.  The imagination was addressed by every avenue; music and painting pressed into the service of—­not religion but the contrary—­led the mind away from the contemplation of all that is practical in religion to the charms of mere sense.  No instruction was imparted; none seems ever to be intended.  What but ignorance can be expected when such a system prevails?...

“Last evening we were delighted with some exquisite sacred music, sung apparently by men’s voices only, and slowly passing under our windows.  The whole effect was enchanting; the various parts were so harmoniously adapted and the taste with which these unknown minstrels strengthened and softened their tones gave us, with the recollection of the music at the church, which we had heard in the morning, a high idea of the musical talent of this part of the world.  We have observed more beautiful faces among the women in a single day in Avignon than during the two weeks we were in Paris.”

After a three days’ rest in Avignon, visiting the palace of the Popes and other objects of interest, and being quite charmed with the city as a whole and with the Hotel de l’Europe in particular, the little party left for Marseilles by way of Aix.  The air grows balmier as they near the Mediterranean, and they are delighted with the vineyards and the olive groves.  The first sight of the blue sea and of the beautiful harbor of Marseilles rouses the enthusiasm of the artist, and some days are spent in exploring the city.

The journal continues:—­

“Thursday, January 28. Took our seats in the Malle Poste for Toulon and experienced one of those vexations in delay which travellers must expect sometimes to find.  We had been told by the officer that we must be ready to go at one o’clock.  We were, of course, ready at that time, but not only were we not called at one, but we waited in suspense until six o’clock in the evening before we were called, and before we left the city it was seven o’clock; thus consuming a half-day of daylight which we had promised ourselves to see the scenery, and bringing all our travelling in the night, which we wished specially to avoid.  Besides this, we found ourselves in a little, miserable, jolting vehicle that did not, like the diligence, suffer us to sleep.

“Thus we left Marseilles, pursuing our way through what seemed to us a wild country, with many a dark ravine on our roadside and impending cliffs above us; a safe resort for bandits to annoy the traveller if they felt disposed.”