the general salubrity of its climate, so large a population as that of Tarma must be subjected, this retreat of convalescents from the coast and mineral districts is without a medical adviser of any consideration, except when chance throws among them one of the faculty of Lima, himself a confirmed invalid, or only in a state of recovery from consumption or spitting of blood. When the people of Tarma have put the seed into the ground, they usually occupy an entire month in mutual visiting and festivity: and they say of their neighbours of Jauja (eight leagues to the south of them), whose rejoicing is at harvest-home, that they distrust Providence, while they themselves piously rejoice and rest their hope in the Giver of their harvest; hence, they infer the wheat crops of the Jaujinos (whose granaries are in favourable years the most plentifully stored in all Peru) are often blighted and frosted, while the Tarmenian barley always flourishes. We would not quarrel with these contented people for the moral of this anecdote to the prejudice of their neighbours; but we wish they would themselves make better use of their advantages, and prepare good barley-bread, of which they know not the use, instead of depending upon others for their flour and wheat,—for never did we eat such bad bread, made of putrid flour, as we did in Tarma. Perhaps the immediately preceding visitation of an armed force might have been the occasion of so bad a bread-market. But we can recommend their quails, too soon fatigued to escape by flight, and therefore taken by dogs and unarmed Indians; and their pine apples, and coffee from the near Montaña and hacienda of Vitoc, are both very good, the latter excellent. The centre land of Peru abounds in streams and mountain torrents, subject at certain periods to sudden and tumultuous swells from the bursting of heavy thunder-clouds and continued pouring rain, or pelting hail and thick nocturnal snow-falls, which quickly melt before the shining sun, and fill the rivers to inundation. The consequence of this is, that though the weather may soon after become so fair and showerless as to invite the traveller to proceed on his journey, yet every now and then he may have deep rivers or foaming ravines to cross, where bridges of some sort become indispensable.