MISERIES AND ENNUI OP CAMP LIFE. 249 tunately we have had latterly to give up the cliase, as from behind almost every bush peep out hostile lances, and horrible murders daily occur. I lie all day on my angareb, constantly smoking, and, like a dreamer, keep my eyes fixed on the dusty partition of our hut, scarce hearing the dull words of the ignorant Turks, and alloAving the tiTue to pass on in idle listlessness. Thus do men alter ; I am vexed with myself, but the unendurable heat soon changes my anger against myself, into curses at this broiling, monotonous lifej the camp, and all in it. But I cannot venture outside the scribal without running the risk of being massacred, and the life and doings inside tlie fence are all too ftimiliar to me. On all sides arc heard nothing but grumblings about want of money, food, and everything else ; then, each abuses the other, the Pascha comes in for his full share, and all round are complaints of the present, and praises of past times under Churschid Pascha. Only a small German country town could show dulness similar, and there other things would be better. The few books I carry with me I have read over a dozen times, and all that remains for me is thought, though my mind is so dulled and worn, that I almost at once fall into dreamy fancies and castlebuildings ;— gigantic plans! immense fortune,— careless, luxurious old age,— purchase of landed estates in some happy, fair land, improvement of them,— fiimily happiness, &c. These coloured and handsome women are not calculated, even for a short time, to afford amusement to an educated man ; one can indeed only look on them as dumb conductors, as no one spark of feeling seems to be ever drawn from them. They themselves are unconscious of their unhappy lot, to be thus througliout all these lands condemned to slavery. All feelings here die away and become blunted, save only the remembrances of earlier life in one's native country, and especially the joys of one's student years and intercourse Avith youthful friends. Then come the thoughts of Avine, beer, and clear cold water, and the food of home, not delicacies, but the plainest fare. How often do we talk over the sauer-kraut, potatoes, hams, sausages, and pork and broad beans !

These may all be trifles, Imt if a man wants them for many years, and is exposed to all the annoyances of such a climate, he will soon feel how dear such thinirs will become. I have now