row that the trunks on a mule struck the rock, and mule and trunks were precipitated over. The perpendicular fall seemed about twenty feet, after which there was a descent, abundantly steep, of 150 or 200 feet. We felt perfectly satisfied that mule and trunks were knocked to pieces, and were not a little astonished to see both brought up wonderfully slightly injured by their roll. After fourteen hours' hard work we arrived at the village of Enen, which we estimated to be not more than sixteen miles from our encamping-ground in the jungle. During our ascent of the Hezarchem we were joined, while resting from the great exertions we were obliged to make, by four Eelyats of the Khojawend tribe. They accosted us in the loud rude tone which is not uncommon among the wilder portions of the people of this class, and, being answered in nearly the same manner, they became much irritated. One of the Eelyats raised his stick as if with the intention of making a blow, but it was speedily wrested from him by St, who was a very powerful man, though in the short struggle which took place we were much alarmed by the danger they both ran of falling over the precipice. The Eelyats immediately afterwards scampered away. On the 7th we proceeded fourteen miles, to the village of Melikfâris, in the district of Lâr. At the fifth mile we commenced ascending the fatiguing pass of Kendewân. We had now bid adieu to Mâzenderân, and entered the province of Irak; the forests had vanished, and nothing met the eye but the naked sterility which characterizes Irak the barbarous, as the Arabs call it, to distinguish it from their own provinceIrak of the Arabs. We ascended Kendewân to the banks of the Keraj river, which we had crossed at the second march from Tehrân, and which here has its source. On the 9th we marched seventeen miles, to the village of Ehâr, having passed through a long valley called Shahristânek, or little city, from the crowd of villages it contains. We were now separated from Tehran only by the first range of Elboorz, which lay close on our right: a few hours would have brought us, by a path over these hills, to Tehrân, had not we received intelligence that the quantity of snow would render the passage inconvenient. Our horses were now worn out from bad food, fatigue, and lameness, which made it desirable that we should get back to our quarters without delay. This we did the next day. We travelled a short distance over the same description of hilly country, which was, however, rendered more lively by a much greater number of villages than we had hitherto seen. We then ascended with much trouble the last range of Elboorz, and,' having got to the top, we saw Tehrân, twelve miles to the S.S.W. The tents of the English party at the capital were visible eight miles from us at the village of Goolehek, where they had encamped to avoid the heat and pestilential atmosphere of Tehrân. U. S. JOURN, No. 117, Aug. 1838. 2 K PETITION OF LAUNCELOT SUBCUT, M.D., ASSISTANT SURGEON. London, June, 1838. MR. EDITOR,-As you have generously lent the aid of your influential periodical in behalf of the Medical Staff of the Army, if you would publish the following copy of a humble memorial from an officer stationed at Madras, its "prayer" would, most probably, meet a favourable reception. PHILO-ESCULAPIUS. To the Heads of the Medical Board, the Petition of Launcelot Subcut, a King's Assistant-Surgeon, Respectfully shows, Your petitioner's aid Your petitioner's not unaware, it is true, That the hardships he knows, your Wisdoms once knew; For the Company's servants get many good things May it therefore" (to use the set form of petitions) For the keep of a few tawny rascals in rice! That in future your slave may wash down his dry ration Your Wisdoms' petitioner "ever will pray.' (Signed) LAUNCELOT SUBCUT, M.D. H.M. Regiment of Foot. DIARY OF A RUN TO THE NORTH COAST OF FRANCE." THE hills are so steep, before and to the westward of St. Brieux, that we were frequently obliged to get out, not only to walk up, but to walk down besides. In an agricultural sense this part of Brittany is very rich, and the condition of the farmers very comfortable, in their sense-that is, good clothes, and plenty to eat. At the grand hotel of the town and feeding-house royal, I made my way into the bureau as quickly as possible, to secure a place on to Brest by the Rhennes diligence, if possible; taking my hat off very politely to a very businesslike and very grave young lady, the daughter of the house, who was officiating at the desk. She nodded assent to my supplications for a seat on, with a sober air of consequence such as a First Lieutenant or Captain gives to a Midshipman asking for twenty-four hours' leave of absence to make a fool of himself ashore. I profoundly bowed myself backwards into the salle à-manger, where two abigails were clearing away le beau reste of the table, where some forty or fifty had just dined. Putting on the most winning smile a hungry man can muster, I ventured to ask if it were possible to oblige my animal propensity in the knife and fork way? They were very busy, very; so I put the question, in a less general form, to the girl next me, insidiously adding, "Voyez donc, ma chère amie, je meurs de faim." To which she replied, very drily, “Demandez au chef. Je n'en sais rien, moi." Hoity toity! French girls are very odd and brusque. Now, from Dover to John o' Groats, no maid-servant at an inn would have so answered: there was not even a Monsieur put in. All Frenchwomen are very exact, whatever their condition, in adding Monsieur to every sentence, when answering a stranger; but I conclude these abigails were so pestered with their animals at feeding-time, that all their better sympathies were long since worn out. I was goose enough to be vexed at their uncivil indifference, and bounced into the kitchen, where I saw the said chef, the lord of the ascendant; but with such a stoical face, and such a thorough emptiness of his casseroles, that I once more turned on my heel in despair. Two hours were before me, so I reconnoitred the chief street, though nothing in the shape of an inn or restaurant hove in sight. I applied at several marchands-nobody knew where I was likely to get anything to eat! In the mean time another difficulty arose. I had no change. I tried the question at two shops, and at the very coach-office where we got down. In vain I recommended my sovereign to them: they shook their heads, poor innocents! Some thought it might be worth a Napoleon, but then the coin was strange, the risk of changing it into five-franc pieces not tempting. I was in a peck of troubles. At last an old woman obligingly showed me the way to the heart of the town, where lived a ci-devant merchant, who very civilly changed a couple of pounds sterling for me in his own private parlour. What it is to travel beyond the influences of a sovereign! Catch me again at a French country-town without francs and sous. I made the old woman's heart glad with ten sous, and, after listening to the band of the 2nd Regiment, who were practising in * (Concluded.) a large room au premier for next day, and observing two English young ladies escorted by a French officer among the listeners, I set to work in good earnest to restore nature. My propitious stars guided me once more along the main street (passing my inhospitable hotel) to a little obscure auberge, the Red Cross. There was a settle in the kitchen, in our country public-house fashion. A most glorious stew regaled my nostrils as I entered. The landlady was very civil, and very expeditious. I have not eaten so satisfactory a dinner since I left London, although but off a single dish; so I went back to the Grand Hôtel and bureau with all the placid indulgence of a philosopher for the uncivil indifference of the landlord and his ladies. One must never decide hastily. The daughter, Miss Graveairs, was kind enough to say she was very sorry for the mistake. As she was a very fine girl, and in the midst of most complex check and counter-check on the way-bill with Monsieur le Conducteur, I got into the coach in a very forgiving mood; but let nobody arrive at any Grand Hôtel after the regular dinner-hour. All these mishaps came of my riding a steeple-chase across the country, in a rattle-trap opposition service. And now, Nox atra cavâ circumvolat umbra. We were not long on the road before we were all unloaded to walk down a tremendous steep and long hill, then re-packed for the tedious night. It makes a monstrous difference in long journeys, whether people can sleep in a corner, or wedged between two, in spite of jolting, &c. I never could, not even dose, so as to lose some of the long-drawn length of way of a long night. 20th."Time and the hour." We drove down the steep hills into Morlaix at seven o'clock; the place already full of peasants, and thousands pouring in along the roads to the annual fair held here, a mixture of fair and fête. These simple Bretons put one in mind of Spaniards, or of the middle ages. Indeed, all is here unchanged among these children of the soil. They are exactly the same they must have been under Henry IV., perhaps long before. Their dress is very striking, all black-necks bare, long hair over their shoulders, long waistcoats over the hips, short, wide-sleeved, square-skirted coats, worked long button-holes very thick set, and immensely broad-brimmed, low-crowned felt hats, with a gay cordon of many colours round them, and a fine tassel. Some of the men we passed were fine-grown fellows, some of the women very comely. They have a Spanish cast of face, long and grave. This is the country that did not, never could, understand or enter into the French Revolution, first or second. They are simple, ignorant, and superstitious, content with their King and their Seigneurs. Loyal to a proverb, no wonder they were led on by the Jacquelins and Georges to destruction and death so often, seldom even to a partial victory. Poor things! Happily those disturbed and cruel times are but matters of hearsay to the youth of the present day. They seldom see a paperfew can read one-so that politics, or what's going on in the world beyond their own fields, or the chief towns in the department, is to them as indifferent as the affairs of the New Zealanders. The chief inhabitants of the towns, indeed, are to themselves a sort of strangers, not speaking the same language, nor dressed like them, with no identity of feeling in any way. While the coach changed horses, I observed them lookin things with the most naïve curiosity, particularly at us travellers. Many of the young men and women had perhaps come twenty or thirty miles, and never seen a town or a shop before. I thought their primitive rusticity quite charming. Such a picture is not to be seen in England, nor Scotland, since the dress is done away with; nor in Ireland, not even, I fear, in the wilds of Conemara. No, there is no distinction but rags left among us. In this France, and Germany, and Italy, have the advantage. We must not think costume is nothing. With moral feeling, with beauty, with the charm of variety over the face of the earth, with a desirable simplicity to the uninformed, with the love of country, it has everything to do. How silly, how culpable are the overwise, who want to rob us of the charms of prejudice and the imagination! The Turks are sunk to nothing since their change of dress. What do the twos and threes look like we meet in town? Morally and physically, it has made them contemptible; I cannot fancy them Turks. Thus the butcher Mahmoud, like a wilful child, has cut, slashed, and destroyed, but creates nothing; besides, he began at the wrong end. Morlaix has always been an active port, building many ships. The river or inlet comes up to the centre of the town, where it suddenly stops between high hills on both sides. But few vessels lie at the wharfs. They are building a new Town Hall close to the arch that gives passage to the small stream running through the centre of the place. I expected to have seen a town of more consequence, and better shops; but it was a dull rainy morning, and all was seen to disadvantage. After we wound up the opposite hill clear of the suburbs, we still met the peasantry on foot and on horseback strung along the road by hundreds, coming on to the fair; many of the women on pillions behind the cavaliers, some riding alone, their Dobbins cutting all sorts of capers, frightened at the strange sight of our lumbering diligence. The country carries the same rich features to Landernau, the commercial port of Brest, where there is little or nothing of trade stirring. This town stands on an inlet of the great harbour on a small river,—a dirty, hugger-mugger place, with the main street full of busy travellers for commercial houses, the inns full in the same way. The five leagues on to Brest is over a poorer and more monotonous track; but this same town must be repassed whatever direction one may want to take, south or north; the ferry of nine miles south across the bay, and the direct road to Quimper, being very rarely used, so that the longest way round, back this same road, is the nearest, it may be called the only way. A few brigs and sloops are lying on the mud, but trade is at best but trifling. The only things one sees any bustle in throughout France are cotton and wine. All the rest are invisible details, answering the strict necessities, always excepting whatever Government undertakes, which is sure to be vigorously and ably carried on. Brest is a small compact handsome town, lying on the slope of a gentle declivity to the bay or harbour, and strongly fortified on all sides. A small tide-river, the Penfield, runs at the foot of it through abrupt rocks, cutting off a suburb called Recouvrance, which is likewise fortified; the sea-face everywhere bristling with cannon. Nothing is seen to seaward beyond the vast circumference of the harbour, which is from six to eight miles across the men of war lie within a mile of the town. At this moment there is a frigate and half-a-dozen brigs, |