alan is exceedingly venerable in his
appearance. He is about sixty-eight years of age, his hair gray, and
worn long in the neck, with a good deal of curl to it. His gait is
quick, and he has much the manner of the venerable Dr. Beecher. This
patriarch of Geneva is very cheerful, knows every one, and has a word
for every one. He told me that he loved Americans, but that they had
spoiled his habitation by stealing two of his daughters, who, he
explained to me, were married to excellent clergymen in the United
States.

We met with great kindness in this city from Mr. Delorme, a gentleman
who once resided in New York. He invited us to accompany his family on
an excursion to the summit of the Saleve, a mountain in Savoy, which is
three thousand one hundred and fifty feet above the lake. We went in two
carriages, and stopped at a village on the mountain side, where we had
cakes, coffee, and wine. Here, in a sweet little arbor, surrounded with
roses, we gazed at Mont Blanc, and on a near summit could very clearly
trace the profile of Napoleon. He looks "like a warrior taking his
sleep." The illusion surpasses in accuracy of expression any thing that
I know of that is similar; there are chin, nose, eye, and the old cocked
hat, while the eternal vapor over the summit of the peak forms the
feather.

We looked down in a ravine and saw the Aar with its icy stream. The
carriages went round to meet the party, and the ascent was made. The
mountain seems to hang over Geneva, though several miles off. We were
greatly pleased with a few good houses, in fine positions; but Savoy is
not Switzerland. Here Popery is rampant and pauperism evident. Beggars
beset our carriages, and the people looked squalid.

[Illustration: Swiss Cottage.]

I forgot to tell you how much we were pleased with the cottages in
Switzerland; they are quite cheerful looking,--some very fine
affairs,--but many are not very unlike our western log-houses.

We returned to Geneva at about ten, and found at our friend's house a
most sumptuous repast provided for our entertainment. I never sat down
at a more elegant supper table. Every luxury seemed placed before us,
including the richest wines of the Rhine.

The Roman salad, a peculiar kind of lettuce, which we saw in France, and
here again, seemed to us all as quite different from our ordinary kinds;
and I have at Genera obtained four or five varieties of the seed for
home cultivation.

While at this city we procu