sused, much to the reproach of the
municipal authorities.

On the hill-side, almost buried amid the trees, is the little villa
where her Majesty the Queen so quietly resided last autumn; while at the
large hotel just below, Mr. Spurgeon rested from his Tabernacle labours,
and, it is to be hoped, got rid of his painful rheumatism.

Straight up this road, on the slope of the hill, is an ancient aqueduct,
and a milestone denoting where the French and Italian territories meet.
My wife was much interested in this precise point of division, and I
laughingly assisted her to place a foot on each territory, thereby
establishing her as the queenly Colossus of two great countries; but she
was greatly relieved by a very short reign. A little higher up on the
left are the beautiful mountain gardens of Dr. Bennett. By his kind
courtesy, all visitors are welcome to roam about therein, though, of
course, within certain hours. It is indeed a wonderful example of
botanical skill combined with excellent taste. Every inch of ground,
right up to the rocky mountain-side, is turned to advantage, for the
production both of the most lovely flowers and ferns and also for
miniature aqueducts and water-courses to refresh them. I have never
before seen a collection of flowers, ferns, and trees brought to so
great a perfection under such difficulties. All are most systematically
named and classified.

A little further on is the Italian custom-house, picturesquely situated
on a promontory, and commanding a very fine view of the sea and
surrounding country. Every person and vehicle has here to undergo the
usual delightful examination by the custom-house officials. This is the
high-road to Ventimiglia and Genoa, and a _high_ road indeed it is,
running right along the edge of the cliff, forming a most magnificent
drive, and commanding grand views.

Not far from here is the residence, with its superb gardens, of Mr.
Hanbury. Some friends who have visited these gardens assure me they even
surpass those of Dr. Bennett. It is said that next time the Queen visits
Mentone, she will take up her abode at this house. Mr. Hanbury is
equally courteous in welcoming visitors to his beautifully cultivated
grounds and gardens.

Mentone is more sheltered than either Cannes or Nice, the mountains
encircling the town more closely; there is consequently more
hill-climbing, and fewer extended walks and excursions for invalids. It
was occasionally bleak and cold after