any foreign power to
require it, but how much more so when that power is an ally!

If France continues on the same course she has pursued for the last year
or two, the opportunity Italy waits for will not be far distant, as
evidently her present rulers are bent on estranging her from the rest of
Europe, and are doing all they can to provoke another war. If that day
should unhappily come, Italy will naturally look for the sympathy of
England, which, with her own magnificent seaboard and England's maritime
and naval power in the Mediterranean, would prove the most powerful
alliance. But meanwhile Italy has only to be patient, develop her
industries, mature her strength, and pursue the upright tenor of her
way.

Immediately on arriving at the station, you see what a gay and busy
place this is. The society is far more _doubtful_ and mixed than at
Cannes, where you feel pretty sure of every one. But Nice being so close
to Monaco and Monte Carlo, there is a constant stream of--well, I might
almost say adventurers, passing through the town, hoping to return with
their expenses liberally recouped from the "tables"--of course, in most
cases a delusion and a snare. It is said that Nice itself is a little
Monte Carlo, and unquestionably there is a great deal of card-playing
going on openly in the _cafes_, while the stationers' shop-windows
literally teem with books professing to teach the secrets of roulette,
how to win at Monte Carlo, and all the other gambling paraphernalia.
This being the case, it is small wonder that private gambling is also
carried on to a great extent, besides the races, etc., which are
fostered and supported by the owners of the gambling saloons at Monte
Carlo, and the crowd one meets at the Nice station much resembles such
as we unfortunately meet at a London suburban station during a race
week. These are the _lovers of sport_, who demoralize and spoil the
peace and beauty of a place both at home and abroad.

We put up at the St. Jullien, a quiet, pleasant hotel; but our comfort
was somewhat disturbed by the fact of our luggage having most
vexatiously miscarried, and not making its appearance for forty-eight
hours after our arrival. In France, after having seen your luggage
registered and labelled, you are generally content to trouble no more
about it till it reaches its destination; but it is really very
necessary to _see it put into the train_, for, despite the otherwise
good system, the porters are