Another reminder that he was but human, and that he could not expect to sail serenely along on the calm, seas of popular favor without an occasional squall, was given to him just at this time.  Professor Joseph Henry had requested the Regents of the Smithsonian Institute to enquire into the rights and wrongs of the controversy between himself and Morse, which had its origin in Henry’s testimony in the telegraph suits, tinged as this testimony was with bitterness on account of the omissions in Vail’s book, and which was fanned into a flame by Morse’s “Defense.”  The latter resented the fact that all these proceedings had taken place while he was out of the country, and without giving him an opportunity to present his side of the case.  However, he shows his willingness to do what is right in the letter to Colonel Shaffner of February 22, from which I have already quoted:—­

“Well, it has taken him four years to fire off his gun, and perhaps I am killed.  When I return I shall examine my wounds and see if they are mortal, and, if so, shall endeavor to die becomingly.  Seriously, however, if there are any new facts which go to exculpate Henry for his attack upon me before the courts at a moment when I was struggling against those who, from whatever motive, wished to deprive me of my rights, and even of my character, I shall be most happy to learn them, and, if I have unwittingly done him injustice, shall also be most happy to make proper amends.  But as all this is for the future, as I know of no facts which alter the case, and as I am wholly unconscious of having done any injustice, I must wait to see what he has put forth.”

In a letter to his brother Sidney, of February 23, he philosophizes as follows:—­

“I cannot avoid noticing a singular coincidence of events in my experience of life, especially in that part of it devoted to the invention of the Telegraph, to wit, that, when any special and marked honor has been conferred upon me, there has immediately succeeded some event of the envious or sordid character seemingly as a set-off, the tendency of which has been invariably to prevent any excess of exultation on my part.  Can this be accident?  Is it not rather the wise ordering of events by infinite wisdom and goodness to draw me away from repose in earthly honor to the more substantial and enduring honor that comes only from God? ...  I pray for wisdom to direct in such trials, and in any answer I may find it necessary to give to Henry or others, I desire most of all to be mindful of that charity which ’suffereth long, which vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, hopeth all things, thinketh no evil.’”

This check to self-laudation came at an appropriate moment, as he said, for just at this time honors were being plentifully showered upon him.  It was then that he was first notified of the bestowal of the Spanish decoration, and of the probability of Portugal’s following suit.  Perhaps even more gratifying still was his election as a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences of Sweden, for this was a recognition of his merits as a scientist, and not as a mere promoter, as he had been contemptuously called.  On the Island of Porto Rico too he was being honored and feted.  On March 2, he writes:—­