It was not warm enough to warrant our venturing to drive, and we decided to go by rail. Soon after leaving the station at Nice, we crossed the torrent bed of the river Paillon, but were still in the town or suburbs of Nice, and in the midst of orange gardens, the fruit shining, like everything else, in the brilliant sun. At the other end of a long tunnel we reached Villefranche, where the gulf of that name presents a large natural harbour, in which one or more men–of–war are sometimes to be seen. From this point the railway hugs the coast, passing under or through the hills by tunnels, whereby many fine points of view are missed, and particularly the sight of Eza, a curious town perched on a precipitous rock, formerly a Saracen free–booter’s stronghold. The Corniche road is more inland, and commands the whole prospect uninterruptedly. As the train emerged from these tunnels successively, bay after bay, filled with the beautiful blue Mediterranean water, hemmed in by rocky promontories, upon which lonely trees sometimes grow, met our sight, but, most tantalizingly, immediately after disappeared from view, eclipsed by the next tunnel. At last, after rather more than half way to Mentone, the bold, peculiar rocky promontory of Monaco, for which we had been watching, appeared, stretching out like a tongue of land, or rather a long steep rock, into the ocean. The view of Monaco either from west or from east is very striking. The rock is from 200 to 300 feet high, and dips perpendicularly into the ocean, crowned by the town, the handsome palace of the Prince of Monaco, and by fortifications. It is inaccessible on three sides, and can only be reached by a fortified road upon the east side sloping up the side of the rock. Upon the north end, which is also steep and inaccessible, it is connected at the bottom by a low narrow belt of land. I shall, however, recur to Monaco in describing a visit to Monte Carlo, which lies about half a mile to the eastward. After leaving Monaco station, the passenger, looking down, sees on the ground below, and leading up to Monte Carlo, a number of villas, pure and bright in their colouring, looking so clean and tidy in the sunshine with which on this occasion we were again favoured. Monte Carlo is not well seen from the railway, as the line and station lie below and even in part under it. All trains stop both at Monaco and Monte Carlo, and at the latter place they generally set down and take up a considerable number of people, who resort either to the gaming tables, or to the delightful gardens which surround them, or to the music room of the Casino. Leaving Monte Carlo, we came in sight of another long projecting though not precipitous point of land, or rising hill ground, covered with trees, principally dark pines. This, the promontory of Cape Martin, is the west boundary and termination of the western protecting arm of Mentone. It necessitates another long