_March 23rd._--We set off this morning to visit Potou.[4] After lauding on the beach, we proceeded along a spacious paved path to a monastery, in a very picturesque spot under the grey granite hills. We entered the buildings, which were like all other Buddhistic temples --the same images, &c.--and were soon surrounded by crowds of the most filthy and miserable-looking bonzes, some clad in grey and some in yellow. All were very civil, however, and on the invitation of the superior--who had a much more intelligent look than the rest--we went into an apartment at the side of the temple and had some tea. After a short rest we proceeded on our way, and mounted a hill about 1,500 feet in height, passing by some more temples on the way. I never saw human beings apparently in a lower condition than these bonzes, though some of the temples were under repair, and on the whole tolerably cared for. The view from the top of the hill was magnificent, and there was glorious music here and there, from the sea rolling in upon the sandy beach. We met some women (not young ones) going up the hill in chairs to worship at the temples, and found, in some, individuals at their devotions. In one there was a monk, hidden behind a great drum, repeating in a plaintive tone, over and over again, the name of Buddha, 'ameta fo,' or something like that sound. I observed some with lumps on the forehead, evidently produced by knocking it against the ground. The utter want of respect of these people for their temples, coupled with this asceticism and apparent self-sacrifice in their religion, is a combination which I cannot at present understand. It has one bad effect, that in the plundering expeditions which we Christians dignify with the name of war in these countries, idols are ripped up in the hope of finding treasure in them, temple ornaments seized, and in short no sort of consideration is shown for the religious feelings of the natives. The following notice of the same sacred island occurs in one of his despatches:--