Nice, ‘the Queen of the Mediterranean,’ has suddenly risen into beauty and importance. Facing the south, close on the sea-shore, with a fringe of verdant hills on the north, its situation has raised it to a high rank as a winter health-resort, and its reputation in this respect has been augmented by vigorous efforts, public and private, to render it attractive to strangers. Formerly, visiting the town while it belonged to Italy, there appeared to be a general stagnation. Great endeavours had stopped short, and there was obviously much half-done work. In the hands of the French, a new spirit has been infused into the place. Streets just begun have been completed, and handsome quays with boulevards stretch along both sides of the Paillon, over which several new bridges have been thrown. One of these deserves to be styled something more than a bridge. It is so broad as to afford space for a public garden, in the centre of which is erected a statue of Masséna, a native of whom, as of Garibaldi, the Nizzards are justly proud. Nominally, the Paillon is a torrent, but it usually is little else than a bed of dry gravel; the only water in it being a few puddles, in which numbers of women are seen washing clothes in the ordinary continental style. The Paillon offers a fair specimen of one of those numerous torrents in the Riviera that are flooded only on the occasion of snows melting, or heavy rains falling in the mountains, when, rushing impetuously down, the tumultuous waters bear all before them. [Illustration: Promenade des Anglais, looking westward; Jardin Public on right.]