At Turbia, we come full in sight of the town of Monaco, perched on a rocky peninsula jutting into the sea, and still walled all around as it was in the days when it required to hold out against foreign enemies. Divided from it on the east by a small port, rises Monte Carlo, a plateau now noted for its gaming establishment, the only authorised resort of the kind in the south of Europe. The only other place on the route calling for a word of observation is Roccabruna, a cluster of antique buildings, the capital of a commune, jumbled up in a strange manner with huge brown rocks, that look as if they had been suddenly arrested on tumbling down the lofty hill behind them. From this we have a continued descent to Mentone. As we advance, the scene opens, and turning a corner of the road, we see the place of our destination stretching along the curve of a beautiful bay, backed by low hills, covered with evergreens, while behind these rises a semicircular range of arid mountains, towering several thousand feet high, and forming the screen from the north, that, constituting Mentone an Undercliff, gives it that peculiar mildness and dryness of climate for which it has attained celebrity. A drive for a mile along an avenue of plane-trees, environed with olive-grounds and villas, brings us to the spot where we are to spend the winter. CHAPTER II. The approach downhill from Roccabruna to Mentone offers one of the most pleasing sights in the Riviera. Before us is the town, skirting the sea-shore, backed by hills clothed in evergreens of varying tints. On our right is the wide expanse of the Mediterranean; and in the distance to the east are seen the headlands of Ventimiglia and Bordighera. It is a peaceful, secluded scene, and, lying full in the blaze of sunshine, comes up to our ideas of what is befitting as a resort for those in quest of health, or who wish to reside for a time away from the turmoil of the outer world. It is customary to say of Mentone, that here civilisation ends. We have arrived at the last town in France. Going farther in this direction, we enter Italy, where, generally speaking, matters are in a less advanced condition. The whole of Mentone is comprehended in the curve of a bay, which, from Cap Martin on the west to Cap Murtola on the east, may measure five to six miles, by following the line of coast; but the curve is divided near the centre by a projecting ledge of rocks, on which stands a conspicuous square bastion or martello tower, forming an outwork of the older part of the town. The sweep of the shore is therefore broken into two bays, the western and eastern, a circumstance which imparts a divided character to the place. As regards the residences of strangers, there may indeed be said to be two towns, distinctly cut off from each other; the only channel of communication between them being a confined thoroughfare amidst old buildings.