Quitting England towards the end of October, and pursuing the journey across France to the shores of the Mediterranean, a visible change of climate usually occurs about half-way between Lyons and Marseilles. We leave the cloudy northern skies, and get gradually into the serene sunshine of the south. The sensation of warmth increases during the day, and at night a lustrous planet shines almost like a moon in the star-spangled heavens. The vegetable world assumes new forms. The mulberry-groves remind us of silk-worms and the tasteful industries of Lyons and St Etienne. Approaching Marseilles, tracts are covered with almond-trees, which, on our return journey in spring, are seen to clothe the country with a mantle of delicate purple blossom. Passing onward, the aloe and prickly pear grow by the wayside, and are planted as hedges; and we observe that in the fields the small tufted plant producing the yellow _Immortelles_ (a species of _Helichrysum_) is cultivated as a branch of husbandry. The railway from Marseilles, though only a single line, has been a costly and remarkable undertaking, for it is carried through numerous tunnels and along heavy embankments near the sea-shore. No doubt, we lose the picturesque scenery of the Estrelles by this modern method of transit; but yet we are afforded glimpses of many beautiful valleys and rocky mounts, garnished with fig and orange trees, these last coming prominently into notice on crossing the Var and getting into the vicinity of Nice. The olive, first seen as a shrub in Provence, now attains to the dimensions of a tree, which, planted profusely on hill-sides, imparts a greenness to the landscape even in winter.