by the growth of the " Corsican Upstart's"
power. At all events, the last moments of the
patriot are clouded by political memories and
anxieties; and his last words, gasped out with
difficulty, take the shape of a patriotic burst,
"O my country!" Here is yet more of the
sublime. The man of the subsidies; the
political recruiting sergeant of continental states;
he who in his cabinet has singly done battle with
the huge fighting Colossus, is now gasping on
his dying bed, and feels with despair that he is
worsted in the encounter. " O my country!"
Alas! even at this sacred moment we cannot be
safe from intrusion. The ejaculations of the
dying cannot be respected. Relations, and
children of relations, go down in the columns
of newspapers, and do fierce battle over the
ejaculation. It must have been spoken. No
one heard it: every one heard it. Competent
authority repudiates; and competent authority
confirms. Between the two, however, the
ejaculation has been sadly shaken, and cannot
be quoted with respectability.

MY PERSIAN TENT.

IT is towards three o'clock in the afternoon.
We are toiling along under a burning sun, and
the fine dust from the barren stony roads is
blinding. Meshed Kerrim pricks to the front,
the bony rakish chesnut he rides setting back its
ears and preparing for business. The Pilgrim*
turns round in his saddle as he passes me, and
makes a salutation half respect and half friendship.
His short greasy black beard glitters in
the sun, and his white teeth sparkle. There is a
brief laughing parley, and then away they go,
Pilgrim and Gholaum galloping a headlong race,
up hill and down dale, across country. They
are gone forward to prepare the tent.† We shall
loiter behind and ride up when the tea and
kalion are ready, and the tent door stands
propped up and open to receive us.

* See "On the Road to Persia," in No. 185.

† For a rich traveller, it is better to have two
complete sets of tents, that one may be sent on
always at night, and be ready pitched for his
arrival next day.

There is sharp work unloading the mules, but
in five minutes I see already that my home is
rising. First, the stout poles are stuck into the
ground, and then, all hands joining with extraordinary
alacrity, the canvas flutters out to the
wind, and is soon pegged down in the form of a
double hayrick. Then there is a good deal of
rope-work and buttoning inside. Carpets, rugs,
cushions, and a bath are brought in with a
rapidity Asiatics display under no other
circumstances than tent-pitching.

"Bouyourum!" cries Meshed Kerrim, heartily,
as I ride up; and Mehemet Beg re-echoes the
Turkish welcome. Both of them are out of
breath, and panting.

"Marshallah!" I answer, as a sort of bravo;
and, strutting into my home, lay my full length,
all parched and scorched, upon the carpet, glad
enough to get out of the sunshine. Presently
comes tea, and I have learned quite to love
my tea-things, and look upon them as friends.
Perhaps they are worth threepence. One cracked
tumbler, a brass tray, and a tin sugar-saucer
and a cream-jug, but they are served to me
with as much stately decorum as if they were
of Sèvres and gold. Then in comes heaved
bravely two heavy muffrushes, a fair horse-load.
These are portable bundles made of strong
carpet bound with leather. They can be carried
at full gallop without danger to their contents,
and they contain everything wanted on the road.
Beds, bedding, cushions, tent, stools and tables,
change of clothes, washing things, writing-
desk, gun-cases, boots, dressing-gown, slippers,
powder, shot, great-coats, and mackintosh, now
turned out in a disorderly heap for Harry, my
English servant, to arrange in their proper
places for the night.

Soon my tent becomes a very pretty picture.
It is divided into three rooms or compartments:
reception-room, bedroom, and dressing-room.
It is fitted up with every convenience, and all
the rude necessaries of a wanderer's life. Its
double walls are well kept down by stones and
sand-bags to exclude the wind, and it is quite
snug and comfortable. My arms lie piled in the
centre, a bright pretty heap. The walls are
decorated with such simple keepsakes and
souvenirs of the home-land as I carry about
with me. A heap of game of varied feather
are hung up on a forked stick, stuck into the
ground in one corner; an English pointer,
and two large Khoordish greyhounds, are
stretched fast asleep in another. I am seated
cross-legged on some comfortable cushions, and,
spread upon the carpet, are my tea-things, and a
water-pipe or kalion. English Harry is cleaning
my guns. Out of doors I hear the low
neighing of horses, as their corn is brought to
them, the drowsy tinkling of the mule-bells, and
the hoarse shout of the village guards, who are
arriving to protect us through the night. As
the evening draws on there comes from the
neighbouring hill-side the chuck of the feeding
partridge gossiping with its mate, sometimes the
report of a stray shot and the sharp squeal of a
wounded hare. I feel wonderfully free and well,
and I can imagine no condition of human life
in which a healthy man may be happier. No
wonder the roving Arabs despise the effeminate
inhabitants of towns who exchange fresh air and
liberty for the miserable henroosts in which
they live.

By-and-by the village gossips begin to drop
in for tea and talk. Among them is a blacksmith,
an ingenious man, who has become
acquainted with me by shoeing a mule. He
expresses a lively interest in my welfare, and
informs me, as a scientific fact which has come
under his observation, that man is a wedge-
shaped article, thickest at the top. I inquire if
he considers that this remark applies generally
to the heads of his acquaintance? He says no;
that nails and many other objects have heads
which are necessary to the comeliness of their
appearance; he wishes his words to be understood