er. In this truthful narrative, he forms an admirable
portrait. He was a convert of M. Gabet, and had imbibed a sort of hazy
notion of Christianity, which was often curiously mingled with
reminiscences of his early creed. Strange scruples would sometimes
assail him; as on one occasion, when his "spiritual fathers" had, to
their great satisfaction, succeeded in getting some fish:

We took the fishes, and went to the edge of the little lake
that lay close to our tent. We were no sooner there, than we
saw Samdadchiemba running towards us in great haste. He quickly
untied the handkerchief that held the fish. "What are you going
to do?" he inquired, anxiously. "We are going to scale and
clean the fish." "Oh! take care, my spiritual fathers; wait a
little--we must not commit sin." "Who is committing sin?" "Look
at the fish--see, many are still moving; you must let them die
quietly. Is it not a sin to kill any living thing?" "Go and
bake your bread," we replied, "and leave us alone. Have you not
got rid of your ideas of metempsychosis yet, eh? Do you still
believe that men are turned into beasts, and beasts into men?"
The features of our Dchiahour relaxed into a broad grin.
"_Ho-le! Ho-le!_" said he, slapping his forehead; "what a
blockhead I am--what was I thinking about? I had forgotten the
doctrine,"... and he turned off quite abashed at having given
his ridiculous warning. The fish was fried in mutton fat, and
proved excellent.

We hope we shall not be accused of Buddhistic tendencies if we say that
there appears to us something more amiable in the Dchiahour's misgivings
than in the unpitying orthodoxy of his spiritual fathers. Be that as it
may, the anecdote shows that the practices of a religion will often
cling to a man long after its tenets appear to have been totally
eradicated from his mind. We must add, however, that when the day of
trial came, Samdadchiemba boldly confessed his faith as a Christian, and
even stood a very fair chance of becoming a martyr, in spite of his
backslidings, on the subject of metempsychosis. Well might the
missionaries value their neophyte, for (with one doubtful exception) no
new convert was added to their church during their long and perilous
journey. Although hospitably, and even courteously received every
where--under the humblest Mogul tent and in the wealthiest
Lama-houses--though listened to