MISERIES AND ENNUI OP CAMP LIFE. 249 tunately we have had latterly to give up the chase, 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 allowing the time 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 life, the camp, and all in it. But I cannot venture outside the seriba without running the risk of being massacred, and the life and doings inside the fence are all too familiar to me. On all sides are 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 lresent, 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 cany with me I have read over a dozen times, and all that remains for me is tliought, thougli my mind is so dulled and worn, that I almost at once fall into dreamy fancies and castlebuildings ;— gigantic plans! inmiense fortune,— careless, luxurious old age,— purchase of landed estates in some happy, fair land, improvement of them,— family happiness, &cl These coloured and handsome Avomen are not calculated, even for a short time, to afford anuisemcnt to an educated man ; one can indeed only look on them as dumb conductors, as no one spark of feelingseems to be ever drawn from them. They themselves are unconscious of tlieir unhajjpy lot, to be thus throughout all these lands condemned to slavei-y. All feelings here die away and become blunted, save only the reniend)ranoes of earlier life in one's native country, and especially tlie joys of one's student years and intercourse with .youthful friends. Then come the thoughts of wine, beer, and clear cold water, and tlie food of home, not delicacies, but the plainest fare. How often do we talk over the sauer-kraut, jiotatoes, hams, sausages, and ])ork and broad beans I These may all be trifles, l»ut 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 sueli tilings will become. I have now