the lungs, resort to Upper Egypt, Nubia, and Abyssinia for a change of climate, and we know with decided benefit. The inhabitants of Nubia and Abyssinia, on the other hand, when labouring under the same affections, come down to the lower or alluvial country with equal advantage.

There has been much of romance in the pictures that have been drawn of the climate and advantages of Italy. Whatever may be the malady of the patient, he must be prepared to meet with inconveniences which will constantly remind him of what he has lost by leaving home. Except in the capital cities, but few houses will be found with any accommodations that merit the name of what we Anglo-Americans understand by the significant word comfort. Most of them, he will ascertain to his sorrow, are not provided even with the necessaries of life. He must, too, often expect to encounter, after a long day's travel, meager arrangements for fire to counteract the chill of the evening, and a cold stone floor instead of a cheering carpet to tread upon before he can reach his not less comfortless bed.

I must here be permitted to protest against what I deem a reprehensible, if not cruel and wicked practice that some professional men fall into, of recommending or sanctioning, and sometimes even themselves urging the poor sufferer from pulmonary disease, after all the resources of our art have failed, to abandon his home, his family, and his friends, with the vain hope of recovering his health in a foreign land. The moment the disease appears to be confirmed, we have believed it to be our sacred duty to advise every patient to make himself as comfortable as possible in his own country, and within the immediate circle of his own family or relatives, that he may partake, to the fullest extent and up to

the last sad moments of his life, of all the rational and soothing enjoyments of their sympathies, and all the luxuries of home, rather than die in a land of strangers.

We are aware that nothing is more common than a fallacious and flattering hope, which a pulmonary patient is prone to indulge in, and that the future is always painted in his imagination with the warm and glowing tints and rainbow hues of a bright and glorious dawn, even when the night-pall of death is drawing its curtains around, and the unconscious victim has reached even the dark confines of the grave. And however painful to the medical attendant to do or say that which shall chill or dampen the sanguine and delightful anticipations of recovery in his patient, he has but one course to pursue, which is, to do his duty.

MALTA.

We next, in the order of progression of what is now, since the general introduction of steam upon the Mediterranean, becoming an everyday fashionable tour, embarked in a French steam-ship of war for Malta, so famed for its Knights of St. John in the times of the crusaders. We passed by the Island of Stromboli at night, and saw the light of its volcano in active operation, reflected to a great distance upon the sea. We continued our course through the straits between Calabria and Sicily, passing by the classic rocks of Scylla and Charybdis, which ancient poetry made so formidable to the inexperienced mariner, but which present to the eye no eddying currents or whirlpools at all comparable in fierceness, or impetuosity of movement, to our own unrivalled and domestic Hellgate, as it was graphically christened by our Dutch burgomasters of the olden time, who were never in the habit of calling things by their wrong names. We shall probably have our poets, too, in some future time, who will do justice to this extraordinary natural curiosity, and make much better capital out of it than Virgil and others did of Scylla and Charybdis. For certain it is that the Pot, and Hog's Back, and Gridiron, are infinitely more dangerous ledges of sunken rocks, and exhibit a far more terrific spectacle at low tide, than anything we saw on the coast of Sicily or Italy; though they may not yet have had a Vesuvius, a Stromboli, or an Etna, to give interest to the surrounding scenery, otherwise as charmingly picturesque, perhaps, as any spot in the world.

Coasting by Sicily, we saw Syracuse and Etna in

the distance, and shortly after made the Island of Malta. An incident here occurred which might have proved of fatal consequence to us all. By some unlucky accident, when arrived within five miles of the island, we found our coal nearly gone; and, to add to our misfortune, one of the boilers sprang aleak or burst, inundating the fire-room and after-cabin, and causing no small degree of consternation. It was somewhat ludicrous, in the midst of this actual danger, to observe its influence upon different temperaments. Our little captain swore lustily, and commenced firing signals of distress. The French crew stood around with their hands in their pockets, taking it very coolly, except every now and then damning the boiler because it was English, and swearing that if it had been French they could have run over the island "rough shod," with or without coal. Our motley group of passengers were most of them prodigiously alarmed; and while some fortified their nerves with Dutch courage in liberal potations of brandy and water, one of our countrymen, who had been familiar, probably, with some of the really terrific and murderous explosions frequent upon our American waters, and looked upon our present dilemma as a mere bagatelle, seized the leisure moment as a fitting occasion to book up his journal, until the shipping of a heavy sea diluted his ink and knocked his pen from his hand. A steamer now happily came out to our relief, and we were soon all safely under way for the port.

This island is little more than a rock in the ocean, and does not, therefore, exhibit any remarkable appearances of fertility. We entered by an extremely narrow pass, flanked on either side by high rocky cliffs, and immediately, as if by enchantment, a superb land-locked bay expanded before us, presenting on one side the town

of Valetta, and, on the other, country villas and a large quarantine establishment, which, upon examination, we would pronounce by far the most capacious and best located and conducted of any we saw in the Mediter

ranean.

In this harbour we found ourselves safely moored in the midst of the heavy line-of-battle-ships or "wooden walls" of Old England; Malta being a naval rendezvous of inconceivable importance to the British government; and its value infinitely enhanced by the perfect security and ample room and depth which its port offers, being sufficient to hold a vast fleet, and so sheltered as to afford complete protection from the dangers of the sea and from every wind. Though less capacious than many of the admirable harbours on the French coast, it is much better protected, and, taken altogether, is the finest harbour which we saw in the Mediterranean. In viewing the facilities which the French, and English, and Spanish possess for their naval armaments in these seas, we could not help but feel an ardent wish that our own cherished and gallant navy might also here find a safe abiding-place, and proudly see their own star-spangled banner floating on some elevated rock that they could call their own.

The town of Valetta is situated upon a rocky promontory, and, though in sight of Sicily, presents in the character of its architecture the first evidences of an Oriental city. The population is made up of the greatest imaginable medley of all nations, being a sort of half-way-house to the East. From its being so great a resort of naval officers and of travellers, it furnishes the best of society. To reach the town you ascend a cliff by a variety of curious steps cut in the rock, which are fatiguing and tedious. The population is very numer