With no recourse open to him but an appeal to Parliament, a long and expensive proceeding with little apparent possibility of success, Morse went to France, hoping for a more favorable reception.  He found the French cordial and appreciative.  French experts watched his tests and examined his apparatus, pronouncing his telegraph the best of all that had been devised.  He received a patent, only to learn that to be effective the invention must be put in operation in France within two years, under the French patent law.  Morse sought to establish his line in connection with a railway, as Wheatstone had established his in England, but was told that the telegraph must be a Government monopoly, and that no private parties could construct or operate.  The Government would not act, and Morse found himself again defeated.  Faring no better with other European governments, Morse decided to return to America to push the bill for an appropriation before Congress.

While Morse was in Europe gaining publicity for the telegraph, but no patents, his former fellow-passenger on the Sully, Dr. Charles Jackson, had laid claim to a share in the invention.  He insisted that the idea had been his and that he had given it to Morse on the trip across the Atlantic.  This Morse indignantly denied.

Congress would now take no action upon the invention.  A heated political campaign was in progress, and no interest could be aroused in an invention, no matter what were its possibilities in the advancement of the work and development of the nation.  Smith was in politics, the Vails were suffering from a financial depression, Professor Gale was a man of very limited means, and so Morse found himself without funds or support.  In Paris he had met M. Daguerre, who had just discovered photography.  Morse had learned the process and, in connection with Doctor Draper, he fitted up a studio on the roof of the university.  Here they took the first daguerreotypes made in America.

Morse’s work in art had been so much interrupted that he had but few pupils.  The fees that these brought to him were small and irregular, and he was brought to the very verge of starvation.  We are told of the call Morse made upon one pupil whose tuition was overdue because of a delay in the arrival of funds from his home.

“Well, my boy,” said the professor, “how are we off for money?”

The student explained the situation, adding that he hoped to have the money the following week.

“Next week!” exclaimed Morse.  “I shall be dead by next week—­dead of starvation.”

“Would ten dollars be of any service?” asked the student, astonished and distressed.

“Ten dollars would save my life,” was Morse’s reply.

The student paid the money—­all he had—­and they dined together, Morse remarking that it was his first meal for twenty-four hours.

Morse’s situation and feelings at this time are also illustrated by a letter he wrote to Smith late in 1841.