At all the winter resorts in the Riviera, there are found English churches, also chapels in connection with the Established or the Free Church of Scotland. In the East Bay, Mentone, a Church-of-England chapel has existed for a number of years. More recently, for the accommodation of residents in the West Bay, a neat and commodious chapel, known as St John’s, has been erected at the entrance to the Route de Turin. It is built in the Gothic style, and with the trees about it reminds us of that usually interesting object, an English parish church. Services are here frequent throughout the week and on Sundays. The chapel has a good organ, and also an effective choir, which is aided by the voices of young ladies who kindly volunteer their assistance. The Free Church of Scotland has a mission chapel in the Rue Pieta, a narrow cross thoroughfare. It consists of the first floor of a house on a common stair, with windows commanding a view of an orange-garden adjoining the Hôtel de Ville. The situation is central, but not otherwise satisfactory. Yet here, during the season, a congregation of about fifty persons, Scotch, English, and American, ordinarily meet on Sundays. The expenses are defrayed by voluntary contribution at the door in going out. I attended on several occasions, and it was not without emotion that I joined in the simple psalmody of ‘The Martyrs,’ while overlooking gardens blazing with orange-trees and other sub-tropical vegetation. These chaplaincies are of use, not alone as regards the appointed services of public worship. The ministers may be said to form a pastorate to the whole English-speaking community, irrespective of national distinction. The reputation of Mentone as a health-resort has reached the United States (where Dr Bennet’s work is, I believe, fully as well known as in England), and every season numbers of Americans in a jaded state of health make it a place of abode. I heard of a family who had come eight successive winters from Philadelphia, every year crossing and recrossing the Atlantic, as if it were a holiday trip. Last season I had the honour of becoming acquainted with an American clergyman, of most apostolic character and appearance, Bishop Whipple of Minnesota, whose health had been grievously impaired by arduous professional labours at his distant see, and who here sought for its restoration. Among the visitors generally, denominational differences are in a great degree laid aside. When distant from home and friends, and when life is perhaps felt to be waning, sectarian and other distinctions in a great measure disappear. The consolations of the Gospel are thankfully accepted from any kindly disposed administrator. As far as I could learn, the several ministers are zealous in their sacred calling, and hold themselves ready to help on any occasion, when their services, secular or spiritual, are in request. A little incident, which occurred in the season 1868–69, is worth relating.