exceptions are so few, that it is fair to say, that from the king upon the throne, to the lowest lazzaroni in the streets, they are all knaves.” Eating and drinking are more expensive here than at Rome, which is said to be owing to heavier duties; but it must be confessed that you are better treated at the _trattorie_, and better served. There is no bargaining at these places; they have printed lists of their articles, with the prices affixed. If you prefer ordering a dinner altogether, you may have an excellent one for six carlines, or, if you wish to be luxurious, for ten, when you will have eight dishes, besides various little things to excite the appetite, fruit, and wine of a better quality than that commonly drunk. There cannot be a stronger contrast than between Rome and Naples. In the former city every thing breathes repose; the streets are not deserted, but you meet only with persons going soberly about on their several occasions; and except perhaps, for about an hour in an evening in the Corso, there is no crowd, no bustle. If you pass beyond the walls, you may walk for miles along the silent and open roads of the Campagna, and see only a few shepherds tending their flocks. Here it is one everlasting tumult, every street seems crowded, the whole population is out of doors, and in incessant motion. You look along the Toledo (the principal street in Naples) and see nothing but heads, and here and there a carriage passing among them at a quick pace, while the driver is incessantly calling out “_Badi_,” to warn the foot passengers to get out of his way. Accidents seem unavoidable, yet they rarely happen, and the punishment is, I understand, very severe. The roads about the city are everywhere full of people, the same incessant motion prevails everywhere. The Neapolitans are very noisy, yet they are fond of answering by signs rather than by words, and in the shops I find them very sparing of their replies and of their trouble. When I have had occasion to ask for anything not quite in common use, one shopkeeper has replied very civilly “_No, signore_,” a second answers plain “_No_,” a third thinks he has it, but does not know where it is. If I will call again, perhaps he may find it; a fourth merely screws up his mouth into a semicircle, and a fifth cocks up his chin, both of which are Neapolitan negatives. However you must take care what you are about, for another screw of the mouth means yes, and when they have to give you any direction, they point with the chin. This language of signs and inarticulate sounds is not that of nature, it is just as arbitrary and conventional as that of words.