The Nicean peasant is frugal and industrious, he takes no regular meal, not even a breakfast, until after the conclusion of the labours of the day, contenting himself with an occasional refreshment of bread, wine, and fruit; at night he makes amends for this abstinence, but even now rarely partakes of animal food, his favourite and indispensable fare being soup, prepared with macaroni and vegetables, and mixed up with a large quantity of oil. The land around the city is divided into small parcels or farms, seldom consisting of more than twelve or fourteen acres each, and which are principally covered with vines, olives, and fruit-trees, the intermediate spaces being filled up with abundance of vegetables, and small quantities of grain, the chief supply of this important article being derived from different parts of the Mediterranean. The proprietor retains the actual possession of the farm, but the _fermier_ cultivates it, collects its produce, and carries it to market; he is bound also to plant, every year, a stipulated number of vines, from three to six hundred, according to the size of the farm; and at his sole expense to repair the walls and fences. The proprietor provides him a house, pays the contribution _foncier_, and incurs half the expense of manure, and of the animals necessary for carrying on the various operations of the concern. The proprietor and fermier then share the produce in equal proportions, except as relates to the olives, of which the former takes three-fifths. The ground is entirely cultivated by a kind of hoe, termed _piochê_; the valuable instrument, the plough, being unknown in the whole country; nor do they here seem acquainted with the use of carts, as even the manure is conveyed in baskets, or barrels, on the backs of mules. We now took leave of St. Rosalie; nor could I, without the highest regret, tear myself away from its rural charms, not least amongst which was the vine covered alley, “impervious to the noontide ray,” which had so often offered us delightful shade, and refreshment, during the most intense atmospheric heats; and where so many happy moments had glided away in interesting conversation, and the rational amusement of reading, frequently enlivened by the vocal powers of Madame M⸺ and her youngest daughter. I thought I could have reposed for ever in this semblance of an earthly paradise; and yet there was something which, in my situation, I felt still wanting to make me completely blest. “Rapt in the soft retreat, my anxious breast Pants still for something unpossessed; Whence springs this sudden hope, this warm desire? To what enjoyment would my soul aspire? ’Tis love! extends my wishes and my care, Eden was tasteless ’till an Eve was there. Almighty Love! I own thy powerful sway, Resign my soul, and willingly obey.”—CHURCH. CHAP. XI. NICE.