On the fifteenth of June we left Southampton by the steamboat _Wonder_, for Havre de Grace, and then proceeded immediately to Paris. After having our passports countersigned, we continued our journey through the beautiful country of southern France. We passed through Lyons, and arrived in Marseilles in about four days from Paris. We then embarked on the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean for Antibes, the last French port. By disembarking there we escaped being detained six days in quarantine, under the burning sun of Genoa. We then traveled to Nice, the first town in Italy. Here Catholicism began to show itself more prominently--priests were very numerous. Images of the Holy Virgin, with the infant Jesus in her arms, were to be seen on the corner-house of every street and on the front of many others. We left Nice by diligence, and traveled by the shores of the Mediterranean. It was the feast-day of John the Baptist; labor was entirely suspended, and all seemed to enjoy themselves in honor of that great man. We certainly saw some hundreds of priests--rather a gloomy introduction. On the twenty-fifth of June we arrived at Genoa. Here we called upon the Lord, and offered the praise and gratitude of our souls for His providence. We had accomplished this journey of nearly twelve hundred miles much quicker than we had anticipated. From the time we left England we had only spent three nights in bed. June 27th. This is the feast-day to St. Peter. Again all work is suspended, and the people enjoying themselves. Jesus said, the fathers killed the Prophets, and their children build their tombs and garnish their sepulchres. The fathers beheaded John and crucified Peter; this week we have witnessed feastings and rejoicings in honor of their names. Pleasing reflections--_starvation!--bonds!--imprisonment!--martyrdom_!--and subsequent generations paying us divine honors.