Dear ----,

Our residence at Vevey, thus far, has been fruitful of pleasure. The
lake, with its changeful aspects and movement, wears better even than
the Oberland Alps, and we have now become thoroughly convinced of our
mistake in establishing ourselves at Berne, beautiful as is that place,
in 1828. The motive was a desire to be central, but Switzerland is so
small that the distances are of no great moment, and I would advise all
our friends who intend to pass a summer in the cantons, and who have
need of a house, to choose their station somewhere on the shores of the
Leman. Two steam-boats ply daily in different directions, and it is of
little consequence at which end one may happen to be. Taking everything
into consideration "_mon lac est le premier_" is true; though it may be
questioned if M. de Voltaire ever saw, or had occasion to see, half of
its advantages.

We never tire of the Leman, but spend two or three hours every day in
the boat. Sometimes we row in front of the town, which literally stands
in the water, in some places, musing on the quaint old walls, and
listening to the lore of honest John, who moves two crooked oars as
leisurely as a lady of the tropic utters, but who has seen great events
in his time. Sometimes even this lazy action is too much for the humour
of the moment, and we are satisfied with drifting along the shore, for
there is generally current enough to carry us the whole length of Vevey
in half an hour. Occasionally we are tossed about like an egg-shell, the
winds at a distance soon throwing this part of the sheet into commotion.
On the whole, however, we have, as yet, had little besides calms, and,
what is unusual in Switzerland, not a drop of rain.

We have no reason to suspect the lake to be unhealthy, for we are often
out until after sunset, without experiencing any ill effects. The shores
are everywhere bold about Vevey, though the meadows and the waters meet
near the entrance of the Rhone, some eight or ten miles from this place,
in a way to raise the thoughts of rushes and lilies, and a suspicion of
fevers. The pure air and excellent food of the mountains, however, have
done us all good thus far, and we are looking eagerly forward to the
season of grapes, which is drawing near, and which every body says make
those who are perfectly well, infinitely better.

I have not yet spoken to you of the greatest charm in the scenery of
Vevey, and the one which perhaps has given us the high