86 GRAPE CULTURE AND WINE-aiAKING. 



equal the wild grandeur of the lakes of Wisconsin or Minnesota 

 before the hand of civilization robbed them of half their beauty. 

 Those thousand lakes, lying calm, peaceful, under a cloudless sky ; 

 that solemn stillness ; the deep dark foliage of a thousand differ- 

 ent tints and shades in autumn — all this, when once seen, can 

 never be forgotten, and the lakes of Switzerland lose half their 

 beauty by the comparison. 



At the village of Neufchatel we changed cars for Geneva. 

 Near this place the soil is reddish, and its wine has some renown. 

 The cultivation of the vine is carried on with great industry, but 

 the soil is poor, and requires a great deal of manure. The vine- 

 yards lie three fourths up of the side of the mountains ; beyond 

 them are the fruit-trees, and near the top are either bare rocks or 

 dense forests. We arrived in Geneva after traveling eight hours 

 continually among vineyards from one mile to three and a half 

 wide. Not a spot as large as an ordinary brick-yard was left un- 

 cultivated, with the exception of where the old vines have been 

 cut out to give the ground the necessary three years' rest. 



Upon our arrival at this ancient town, celebrated for its watch- 

 es, we were obliged to drive around some time before we could 

 obtain lodgings, as at present there is a convention here of minis- 

 ters of all Protestant denominations. At last, however, we found 

 rooms and a good supper, to which we did ample justice. 



Sepiemler 8. — Having taken a carriage, we drove around the 

 city and along the shore of the lake which lies at its side, on the 

 mirror-like surface of which floated dozens of swans. The bridge 

 across the river at the lower end of the lake is a great work of 

 art. The neighborhood of the city is picturesque ; the bold, tow- 

 ering rocks, always capped with everlasting snow, inspire the 

 traveler on a September day to wish himself in one of those crev- 

 ices, where he might breathe an atmosphere rather lower in tem- 

 perature than 85°. After seeing all the sights, we drove to the 

 hotel, discharged the driver, and started to have our revolvers 

 cleaned up and reloaded, as we had to cross the Alps. From 

 thence we went to the United States Consul to have our passports 

 vis(^d ; not that it was required, but to avoid the annoyance of 

 running to the Consulate, perhaps not finding the Consul in, and, 

 above all, paying your tribute of one dollar for his signature. 



Coming from the Consul we met Mr. Samuel Brannan and his 

 lady. Mrs. Brannan, with lier children, live here, in a very fine 

 villa, surrounded by extensive grounds, adjoining the town; a 



