more than the average at home for second–class fare for a similar distance. However, the cost necessarily varies according to the quantity of luggage registered. To most Italians, who register none, it would be so much less; to many ladies who cannot travel without innumerable dresses, so much more. Upon escaping from San Remo, the railway leaves the coast line and keeps a little inland—at least it nowhere cuts off any of the coast towns from the sea; nor could it well do so, as nearly all are built close upon the beach. It therefore proceeds rather behind them or through their outskirts; and, partly owing to this and partly to the numerous—vexatiously numerous—tunnels through which the railway is, from the hilly nature of the country, constrained to run, the views had, of the towns at least, cannot be equal to what is obtained by driving along the Corniche road. These Italian towns are exceedingly picturesque, both in appearance and in situation, and there can be no doubt that one misses much by travelling by rail, although it must be added that the route between San Remo and Genoa by no means equals that between Nice and San Remo. Clear, pleasing photographs of the towns on the line are published, and may give one some idea of them; but they are not, with one or two exceptions, the views seen from the railway. All views from railway carriage windows, however, even where no ogre sits to pull down the blinds, labour under disadvantage, and are too transient, and often too detached and interrupted, to enable passengers to catch and retain in memory general views of any place which a railway passes. On this occasion we had the carriage to ourselves, and eagerly availed ourselves of the opportunity to draw up blinds and gaze out right and left. * * * * *