t can well be conceived. One would imagine the pulp
itself dissolved in the stomach; for you may eat of it until you are
filled up to the tongue, without feeling the least inconvenience. It is
so friendly to the constitution, that in ardent inflammatory fevers, it
is drank as the best emulsion. At Genoa, Florence, and Rome, it is sold
in the streets, ready cut in slices; and the porters, sweating under
their burthens, buy, and eat them as they pass. A porter of London
quenches his thirst with a draught of strong beer: a porter of Rome, or
Naples, refreshes himself with a slice of water-melon, or a glass of
iced-water. The one costs three half-pence; the last, half a
farthing--which of them is most effectual? I am sure the men are
equally pleased. It is commonly remarked, that beer strengthens as well
as refreshes. But the porters of Constantinople, who never drink any
thing stronger than water, and eat very little animal food, will lift
and carry heavier burthens than any other porters in the known world.
If we may believe the most respectable travellers, a Turk will carry a
load of seven hundred weight, which is more (I believe) than any
English porter ever attempted to carry any length of way.

Among the refreshments of these warm countries, I ought not to forget
mentioning the sorbettes, which are sold in coffee-houses, and places
of public resort. They are iced froth, made with juice of oranges,
apricots, or peaches; very agreeable to the palate, and so extremely
cold, that I was afraid to swallow them in this hot country, until I
found from information and experience, that they may be taken in
moderation, without any bad consequence.

Another considerable article in house-keeping is wine, which we have
here good and reasonable. The wine of Tavelle in Languedoc is very near
as good as Burgundy, and may be had at Nice, at the rate of six-pence a
bottle. The sweet wine of St. Laurent, counted equal to that of
Frontignan, costs about eight or nine-pence a quart: pretty good Malaga
may be had for half the money. Those who make their own wine choose the
grapes from different vineyards, and have them picked, pressed, and
fermented at home.

That which is made by the peasants, both red and white, is generally
genuine: but the wine-merchants of Nice brew and balderdash, and even
mix it with pigeons dung and quick-lime. It cannot be supposed, that a
stranger and sojourner should buy his own grapes, and make his own
provis