trustees of the British Museum, knowing themselves already to be deeply in Mr Layard's debt, refuse to further his great efforts, except by the paltry (and refused) pittance of £12 a-month; and, at the same time, they furnish Colonel Rawlinson with the sum of £2000 to proceed with excavations at Koyunjik, (three hundred miles from his residence,) and at Susa, which is one-third of the distance. In the approaching session of Parliament, we hope that Mr Layard's services to England and to art will be more generously appreciated than they have hitherto been; and that, at all events, we shall not be left to labour under the disgrace of pecuniary debt to that enterprising gentleman. We have now reached our traveller's goal, and must make brief work of his returning tour, in order to spare some columns to the consideration of the Ansayrii, the most important matter in the work. After a residence of some weeks at Mosul, and at the several neighbouring excavations, Mr Walpole accompanied Mr Layard in a tour through the fastnesses of Koordistan: and here we must find space for one or two glimpses at those unknown regions, and the life that awaits the traveller there. Before we begin to ascend the hill country, we look back: "On either side, the mountain falls away with jut and crag almost perpendicularly to the plain; at the foot, hills rise above hills in irregular and petulant ranges, like a stormy sea when the wind is gone, and nothing save its memory remains, lashing the waves with restless motion. Westward lies the vast plain, its surface broken by the mounds of imperial cities long passed away. "One moment the eye rests on the Tigris as it glides its vast volume by; then, out upon the plain, the desert broken by the range of Singar, again on to distance where earth and air mingle imperceptibly together. To the south, over a varied land, is Mosul, the white glare of its mosque glistening in the sun; to the south and east, a sea of hills, wave after wave, low and irregular. The Zab, forcing its way, takes a tortuous course to its companion; farther on, they join their waters, and run together to the vast worlds of the south. Beyond are Arbela and the Obeid. Kara Chout and its crags shut out the view, passing many a spot graven on the pages of the younger world. "What a blank in history is there around those vast cities, now brought to light! A few vague traditions, a few names whose fabulous actions throw discredit on their existence, are all that research has discovered. Even the nations following after these we know but dimly--tradition, garlanded by poetry, our only guide.