t is by lofty mountains, part of the Atlas range, is
extremely picturesque. As the steamers, however, only remain a few hours
at each of the stopping-places, there is scarcely time fully to enjoy
the varied and charming views. It seemed to us as if a vast diorama had
passed before us, leaving on the mind not an indelible picture, but a
mere shadowy outline of headlands and bays, rocky promontories and sunny
sloping shores. With the exception of the port of Algiers, there is,
properly speaking, no harbor on this part of the African coast: there
are only open roadsteads, where, exposed to the full roll of the sea,
vessels ride uncomfortably at anchor. The journey is in consequence
rather trying: nevertheless, we had not long reached terra firma before
we acknowledged ourselves amply compensated for the fatigues and little
unpleasant accompaniments of the sea-voyage.

Philippeville offers to the traveller no great attractions. Its
situation is pretty, and it possesses some Roman remains, the
examination of which may occupy pleasantly and profitably enough the
unavoidable interval between the landing and the start for the South.
After resting but one night, we set out for Constantine, the capital of
the province of that name. There is nothing whatever of interest between
the sea and the city--nothing till you arrive within sight of
Constantine itself. Then, indeed, when from the plain below you get your
first view of the town, perched like an eagle's nest upon its rocky
height, you can at once realize the appropriateness of its singular
name--"the City in the Air." It is so high above you it seems midway
between earth and heaven. Its situation is indeed unique and most
strangely picturesque. Security must have been the chief motive for the
selection of such a site, and certainly few cities present more
formidable barriers to the advance of a foe. The plateau of rock upon
which the town is built forms a kind of peninsula, inaccessible on all
sides except one, and there the ascent is long and steep, as we found to
our cost each time we descended to the level of the valley. This plateau
is joined to the rest of the table-land as by an isthmus: at all other
points it is surrounded by a profound chasm, through which flows the
river Roumel--a chasm so deep and narrow that it is only when quite near
it you become aware of its existence. For the sake of internal safety a
wall has been built round the top of the precipice, and at cer