estern coast of the Black Sea, and landed on the
following morning in Varna."

We may pass over the "delightfully keen impressions" which Mr Paton
records as produced by the contrast between the shores of Bulgaria and
the Syrian climes he had lately left; the practical result of which was,
that "a rattling blast from the Black Sea, more welcome than all the
balmy spices of Arabia," made it advisable to don a pea-jacket! The
fortifications of Varna, we are informed, were thoroughly repaired in
1843; "and from Varna to Roustchouk is three days' journey--the latter
half of the road being agreeably diversified with wood, corn, and
pasture, and many of the fields enclosed." A reference to the map will
show that this "agreeably diversified" road passes under the famous
lines of Shumla, and through many fields of fierce and stubborn fight
between Turk and Russ, in the days before the Sultan was delivered over
by his allies to his enemy, on the faith of a _military_ report from a
man who had never seen a regiment of regular troops under arms![1]--but
Mr Paton appears to consider such matters as exclusively the province
of _militaires_, and passes on at once to Roustchouk, which he found "a
fortress of vast extent; but, as it is commanded by the heights from
which I was descending, it appeared to want strength if approached from
the south. The ramparts were built with great solidity; but rusty old
dismounted cannon, obliterated embrasures, and palisades rotten from
exposure to the weather, showed that to stand a siege it must undergo a
considerable repair." Several days were devoted to a general
reconnoissance of the place; but the result was not satisfactory--"I
must say that Roustchouk pleased me less than any town of its size I had
seen in the East. The streets are dirty and badly paved, without a
single good bazar or cafe to kill time in, or a single respectable
edifice of any description to look at." A dinner with a Bulgarian family
led us to expect some details of domestic economy; but, in place of
this, we are regaled with the bad French of a hybrid Frank, who assured
_Author_ that Bukarest was equal to Paris or London; and when forced to
admit that he had never seen either of those capitals, covered his
retreat by maintaining that it was at least far superior to Galate and
Braila! Hearing, however, that the Defterdar, an Egyptian Turk, had
resided many years in England, and spole English fluently, Mr Paton
sought an inte