by the monastery, which was also perhaps the most romantic bit of scenery to be encountered there. Above these steps the path winds beneath a forest, and around a rich undergrowth of ferns and flowering shrubs, and finally seems suddenly to terminate in a cave. This cave in reality forms the passage through which the dell is approached. A small idol stood at the foot of the rocks, on the right of the entrance, and there was incense burning before its shrine. As we ascended a narrow path cut in the face of the rocks, we obtained a full view of the monastery. There it stood with its broad eaves, carved roofs and ornamental balustrades, propped up on the face of a precipice 200 feet in height, and resting above this awful abyss on nothing more durable than a slender-looking framework of wooden beams.
There were only three monks in residence here; one a mere boy, the second an able-bodied youth, and lastly the abbot, who was old, infirm and blind. I was accommodated with an apart- ment commanding a good view of the valley far beneath, and built out of thin pine planks, plastered over with lime. Inside this chamber were a pine table, a pine chair and a pine bed, and on the latter the same unyielding wooden pillow which forms its usual cheap and durable appurtenance. As for the bedstead itself, it was a kind of square chocolate-coloured well of wood; and in this unluxurious contrivance I had to pass the nights, which were here extremely cold. My coolies slept in the apartment beneath, packed together like sardines, to keep themselves warm. Every evening at about sunset, my friends, dressed in their yellow canonicals went up into the temple to pray. The fervour of a long-winded prayer was much impaired in my eyes when I found that it was meaningless mummery to the young devotee who chanted it. On one of the altars I saw
