a million of the common sort of his subjects to death; but he was, at that time, athirst for some victim of rarer eminence and sanctity than any of those whom he had already brought to their end. He died at last a pious priest, and left some suitable gifts behind him. Something like this is not unknown even at the present time. There are monks, I am told, in those places, who have passed their lives in crime, and who find it expedient to retire to these choice retreats (making them places of refuge, like the temples of the ancient Jews and Greeks) to die pleasantly chanting Omita-Foh! "
Such holy ones, rescued from the grasp of justice and the jaws of the pit, take good care, nevertheless, to live as long as they can. Some Buddhists are doubtless sincere, if judged by the laws of their own faith ; and many of them, whom I came across, I found hospitable and kind to strangers. They seldom failed, however, to let me know if the presents I chanced to give them were not quite equal to those which other visitors had bestowed.
Early next morning a mute and aged monk conducted me to view the *' Thousand- fathom Precipice." A heavy cloud was hanging like a pall over the scene as I followed the guide along a mountain path. At length we reached a summit that stood out bold and clear, though still wet with vapoury rain ; and there, in a small rest-house, perched upon one of the rocks, we sat down to listen to the roar of the fall and the foaming torrent beneath. The monk next led me to where, clinging to a tree, I could lean over the edge of the precipice and get a look right down into the abyss; but there was nothing to be made out save a sea of mist, through which the deafening roar of the waters could be heard as they leapt from rock to rock in their descent to the valley more than 1,000 feet below. The sun gradually shone out, and by its aid we descended to the
