224 Travels in Italy 



and, for the honour of Piedmontese grazing, ate as fine, sweet, 

 and fat a piece of roast beef as I would ever wish to do in England, 

 and such as would not be seen at the table d'hote at the quatre 

 nations in seven years — if in seven ages. An English master 

 and mistress of the table, with roast beef, plum pudding, and 

 porter, made me drop for a moment the idea of the formidable 

 distance that separated me from England. Unknown and un- 

 recommended at Nice, I expected nothing but what could be 

 shot flying in any town; but I found in Mr. Green both hos- 

 pitality, and something too friendly to call politeness. In the 

 evening we had another walk among gardens, and conversed 

 with some of the proprietors on prices, products, etc. The 

 description Mr. Green gives me of the climate of Nice in the 

 winter is the most inviting that can be imagined; a clear blue 

 expanse is constantly overhead, and a sun warm enough to be 

 exhilarating, but not hot enough to be disagreeable. But, Sir, 

 the vent de bize ! We are sheltered from it by the mountains ; 

 and as a proof that this climate is vastly more mild than where 

 you have felt that wind, the oranges and lemons which we have 

 in such profusion will not thrive either in Genoa or Provence, 

 except in a very few spots, singularly sheltered like this. He 

 remarked, that Dr. Smollet, in his description, has done great 

 injustice to the climate, and even against the feelings of his own 

 crazy constitution; for he never was so well after he left Nice 

 as he had been at it, and made much interest with Lord Shel- 

 burne to be appointed consul, who told him, and not without 

 some foundation, that he would on no account be such an enemy 

 to a man of genius ; — that he had libelled the climate of Nice so 

 severely, that if he was to go again thither the Nissards would 

 certainly knock him on the head. Mr. Green has seen hay made, 

 and well made, at Christmas. 



2ist. Commenced my first Italian journey; of my two 

 military companions, one was as stupid as a brick-bat, and the 

 other too lively for me: — there are few things more repugnant 

 to my nerves than the vivacity of inanity; I am not young 

 enough for it. Here was also a friar, who made no compensation 

 for the deficiencies of his countrymen: — low, vulgar, and 

 ignorant; could speak no French, and but little Italian : Hooked 

 in vain for so many of his Piedmontese words in my dictionary 

 that I was soon tired of following him. We dined at Scareno, 

 and slept at Sospello, at both which places we joined the com- 

 pany of another vetturino, consisting of the Piedmontese colonel 

 I had met at the table d'hote, his brother an abbe, and another 



