I was impatient to look about me, and on the evening of my first day took, with a young Scotch gentleman residing in the hotel, a walk as far as the gorge of St. Louis. It is the evening aspect of Mentone which I regard as my first and the additional excursion, and it is one of, if it be not, the most lovely. The moon was full and shining brightly. Now, the moonlight at Mentone is so clear and strong that everything comes out sharply, and all objects on which it rests are seen with almost the same distinctness as in daylight. Even quarter moon illuminates surprisingly. The great orb of night sheds her effulgence upon the grand, steep, abrupt mountains, upon the rugged rocks, upon the glittering trees, upon the hill–tops, upon the white houses, upon all I have already attempted to depict as contributing to the magnificence of the landscape. Bold and varied as everything looks, as usually seen when the sun is in the heavens, the soft, wondrous silvering on the parts which are moonlit, set in contrast against the deep, sombre, unrelieved blackness of the parts which are cast into shade, developes the features of the panorama, with an impressive _chiaro oscuro_ effect which can never be observed or attained in the broad light of day; while, turning round and looking upon the ocean below, we see the waves roll softly ashore in lambent lines of dazzling light, and the yielding water is dancing and glancing with the restrained restlessness of girlish glee, and tossing up little flickering tongues of fire, which cover the sea in the moonlight gleam as with thousands of short–lived electric sparks, darting up to snatch a kiss from their pale but glorious mother, and expiring in the vain and feeble effort. We had not far to go for this lovely tableau, which, when beheld for the first time, produces the sensation of being in the presence of a scene of enchantment. * * * * *