tled at Villa
Franca, a very good sort of a man, who practises for a certain salary,
raised by annual contribution among the better sort of people; and an
allowance from the king, for visiting the sick belonging to the
garrison and the gallies. The whole may amount to near thirty pounds.

Among the inconveniences of this climate, the vermin form no
inconsiderable article. Vipers and snakes are found in the mountains.
Our gardens swarm with lizzards; and there are some few scorpions; but
as yet I have seen but one of this species. In summer, notwithstanding
all the care and precautions we can take, we are pestered with
incredible swarms of flies, fleas, and bugs; but the gnats, or couzins,
are more intolerable than all the rest. In the day-time, it is
impossible to keep the flies out of your mouth, nostrils, eyes, and
ears. They croud into your milk, tea, chocolate, soup, wine, and water:
they soil your sugar, contaminate your victuals, and devour your fruit;
they cover and defile your furniture, floors, cielings, and indeed your
whole body. As soon as candles are lighted, the couzins begin to buz
about your ears in myriads, and torment you with their stings, so that
you have no rest nor respite 'till you get into bed, where you are
secured by your mosquito-net. This inclosure is very disagreeable in
hot weather; and very inconvenient to those, who, like me, are subject
to a cough and spitting. It is moreover ineffectual; for some of those
cursed insects insinuate themselves within it, almost every night; and
half a dozen of them are sufficient to disturb you 'till morning. This
is a plague that continues all the year; but in summer it is
intolerable. During this season, likewise, the moths are so
mischievous, that it requires the utmost care to preserve woollen
cloths from being destroyed. From the month of May, 'till the beginning
of October, the heat is so violent, that you cannot stir abroad after
six in the morning 'till eight at night, so that you are entirely
deprived of the benefit of exercise: There is no shaded walk in, or
near the town; and there is neither coach nor chaise to hire, unless
you travel post. Indeed, there is no road fit for any wheel carriage,
but the common highway to the Var, in which you are scorched by the
reflexion of the sun from the sand and stones, and at the same time
half stifled with dust. If you ride out in the cool of the evening, you
will have the disadvantage of returning in the d