Professor Morse said in 1856 that it was not in England alone that he had experienced unwonted kindness, but in every place he had visited,—in Copenhagen, in St. Petersburgh, in Berlin, throughout Germany, Belgium, France, he had everywhere received distinguished marks of regard—and that he was unable to recall a single unpleasant occurrence to mar the gratifying impression which he carried with him to his Transatlantic home. The first foreign honour he received as an acknowledgment of his invention came from the Sultan of Turkey, who sent him the decoration, set in diamonds, of the Order of Glory, and this was the first decoration which the Sultan conferred on an American citizen. Italy bestowed on him the Cross of a Knight of Saints Lazaro and Mauritio; Prussia the Gold Medal of Scientific Merit in a gold snuff-box; Spain the Cross of Knight Commander de Numero of the Order of Isabella; Austria the Gold Medal of Scientific Merit; and Portugal the Cross of a Knight of the Tower and Sword.

In 1858 he again left New York and went to Paris, where his fellow-countrymen entertained him at a banquet. A movement was then set on foot to make him some recompense for the use of his invention in Europe. At a conference of delegates of ten leading Governments, held in Paris to consider the subject, Count Walewski said that the honorary distinctions which several sovereigns had conferred on Professor Morse had beyond doubt been appreciated by him as valuable marks of high esteem; but these had been insufficient to supply the place of the pecuniary compensation which his sacrifices and his labours seemed destined to procure him, and which were so much the more justly called for, since electro-magnetic telegraphing,—independently of the immense services which it renders by the rapidity of transmitting news and correspondence,—also brings to the Governments that have a monopoly of it profits in money which are already considerable, and must continue to increase. With a conviction that there was justice as well as generosity in acceding to the claim of Mr. Morse, who was now subject to the infirmities of age, after devoting the whole of his small fortune to the experiments and voyages necessary to arrive at the discovery and application of his process, the Emperor’s Government had solicited the various States, to whose gratitude Professor Morse had a right, to contribute to the remuneration due to him. It was agreed that the different Governments should contribute in proportion to the number of instruments that they had in use; and it was found that they had altogether 1,284 Morse instruments in operation, of which France had the highest number, namely 462. On September 1st, 1858, Count Walewski addressed to him the following letter from the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs:—“I have the honour to announce with lively satisfaction that a sum of 400,000 francs will be remitted to you in four annuities, in the name of France, Austria, Belgium, the Netherlands, Piedmont, Russia, the Holy See, Sweden, Tuscany, and Turkey, as an honorary gratuity, and as a reward, altogether personal, of your useful labours. Nothing can better mark than this collective act of reward the sentiment of public gratitude which your invention has so justly excited. The Emperor had already given you a testimonial of his high esteem when he conferred on you, more than a year ago, the decoration of a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour. You will find a new mark of it in the initiative which His Majesty wished that his Government should take on this occasion, and the announcement I now make to you is a brilliant proof of the eager and sympathetic response that his proposition has met with from the States I have just enumerated.”

The latter years of the Professor’s life were mostly spent in retirement at his country residence—a delightful house, near Poughkeepsie, on the eastern bank of the Hudson, where he appeared to possess everything that could promote his comfort or gratify his taste. It was an Italian villa, called Locust Grove, surrounded by very picturesque grounds containing deep ravines and lofty forest trees. Here he cultivated beautiful gardens, and adorned the spot with all the chasteness of an artist’s taste. Here he was surrounded by a lively and affectionate family. Here he delighted to entertain his old friends with accounts of his early struggles and disappointments. Here he was placed in communication with the busy world of work and thought by means of the agency which his own genius had created—the Morse telegraph. But here, amid the repose of Nature, he was not idle. In the sunshine of fortune and fame he was as sympathetic and kind as when under the chilly blasts of adversity. He knew well that

“’Tis easy to resign a toilsome place

But not to manage leisure with a grace;

Absence of occupation is not rest,

A mind quite vacant is a mind distress’d.”

Much of his leisure time was spent in assisting struggling inventors and artists, and in doing works of charity. He purposely devoted one-tenth of his income to Christian benevolence, and in honour of his father he gave 10,000 dollars as an endowment for a Morse lectureship on the relation of the Bible to the sciences. Occasionally he was drawn from his retirement to receive some tribute of respect from his fellow-countrymen; for in his own country where no titles or decorations are conferred, the sunset of his useful life was made radiant by some exceptional marks of public favour.

On the eve of the last day of 1868 he was entertained at a public banquet in Delmonico’s, New York, when some of the most eminent men in the United States paid high tributes to his genius. In the toast of “Our Guest,” Professor Morse was described as the man of science who explored the laws of Nature, wrested electricity from her embrace, and made it a missionary in the cause of human progress. Professor Morse was as rich in humility as his admirers were in eulogy. He said that, in tracing the birth and pedigree of the American telegraph, “American is not the highest term of the series that connects the past with the present. There is at least one higher term,—the highest of all,—which cannot and must not be ignored. If not a sparrow falls to the ground without a definite purpose in the plans of Infinite Wisdom, can the creation of an instrument so vitally affecting the interests of the whole human race have an origin less humble than the Father of every good and perfect gift? I am sure I have the sympathy of such an assembly as is here gathered together, if in all humility, and in the sincerity of a grateful heart, I use the words of Inspiration in ascribing honour and praise to Him to whom first of all and most of all it is pre-eminently due. ‘Not unto us, not unto us, but to God be all the glory’—not what hath man, but ‘what hath God wrought?’”

In April, 1870, it was announced in the public press that the telegraph operators of the United States intended to raise a memorial of the father of their craft, and from all parts of civilised America subscriptions for that purpose were sent to the executive committee, of which Mr. Jas. D. Reid was the chairman. When, six months afterward, information of the movement was officially communicated to the aged Professor, he replied:—“I am astonished and deeply impressed with the evidence of such an unexampled universality of kind and friendly feeling from those whom I have loved to call my children. I know by early experience some of their trials, and can therefore sympathise with them; and I should be false to my convictions if to those who have called me Father, I should be recreant in manifesting my grateful thanks for their expressed sentiments of affection and respect.”