k up a bargain, and they launched forth in
company upon the lake.

This casual meeting was the commencement of an agreeable and friendly
intercourse. Jean Descloux, besides being a very good boatman, was a
respectable philosopher in his way; possessing a tolerable stock of
general information. His knowledge of America, in particular, might be
deemed a little remarkable. He knew it was a continent, which lay west of
his own quarter of the world; that it had a place in it called New Vevey;
that all the whites who had gone there were not yet black, and that there
were plausible hopes it might one day be civilized. Finding Jean so
enlightened on a subject under which most of the eastern savans break
down, the American thought it well enough to prick him closely on other
matters. The worthy boatman turned out to be a man of singularly just
discrimination. He was a reasonably-good judge of the weather; had divers
marvels to relate concerning the doings of the lake; thought the city very
wrong for not making a port in the great square; always maintained that
the wine of St. Saphorin was very savory drinking for those who could get
no better; laughed at the idea of their being sufficient cordage in the
world to reach the bottom of the Genfer See; was of opinion that the trout
was a better fish than the fera; spoke with singular moderation of his
ancient masters, the bourgeoisie of Berne, which, however, he always
affirmed kept singularly bad roads In Vaud, while those around its own
city were the best in Europe, and otherwise showed himself to be a
discreet and observant man. In short, honest Jean Descloux was a fair
sample of that homebred, upright common-sense which seems to form the
instinct of the mass, and which it is greatly the fashion to deride in
those circles in which mystification passes for profound thinking, bold
assumption for evidence, a simper for wit, particular personal advantages
for liberty, and in which it is deemed a mortal offence against good
manners to hint that Adam and Eve were the common parents of mankind.

"Monsieur has chosen a good time to visit Vevey," observed Jean Descloux,
one evening, that they were drifting in front of the town, the whole
scenery resembling a fairy picture rather than a portion of this
much-abused earth; "it blows sometimes at this end of the lake in a way to
frighten the gulls out of it. We shall see no more of the steam-boat after
the last of the month."

The American c