degree which may be the custom of his country, but I am inclined to consider a fault in one so situated. In his conversation and expressions he is frequently disconsolate, and betrays it in involuntary sentiment, as if he thought himself forlorn and neglected. He can form no idea of the spirit in which Government will receive his works, and almost fears they may not be considered with that indulgence which is due to his research. Yet he told me, with melancholy emphasis, that on his delivering up the Grammar and Dictionary of the Tibetan language, and other illustrations of the literature of that country, he would be the happiest man on earth, AND COULD DIE WITH PLEASURE ON REDEEMING HIS PLEDGE. He showed me with great animation a printed work upon poesy, in which he pointed out the original of a translation from the Mahabharut, written in a number of the Oriental Quarterly; a great part of that work (the Sanskrit edition) is supposed to be lost, and the discovery of Mr. Csoma in the Tibetan books leads to the conclusion, that the whole of the Mahabharut may yet be preserved in the monasteries of that country, which seem to have afforded an asylum to literature at a very early period, even before its retrogression in India. In a small pocket abridgment of (I think Robertson’s) ‘India,’ Mr. Csoma showed me an extract of a poem from the Sanskrit, at the same time holding in his hands the original passage in the Tibetan. [33] The systems of philosophy contained in those immense compilations he says are very numerous, and he thinks will astonish the learned in Europe; some of them are sublime in conception. I was naturally anxious to know the contents of the books of medicine, of which there are five volumes, and characters of 400 diseases he had collected and arranged. They treat copiously on physiology; and, in fact, there is no knowing yet what they do not contain. In his brief memoir to Government, [34] the five volumes upon medicine were alluded to, but in Mr. Wilson’s observations on that paper they are not noticed, at which Mr. Csoma seems disappointed, and has strangely concluded that his assertion was discredited, but consoles himself with the prospect of disclosing many facts even much more unexpected. The Lama has informed him that at Teshi Lhunpo the anatomy of the human body is represented in wooden cuts or prints (for I forget which) in so many different attitudes. He also observes, that the art of lithography has long prevailed in that city and at Lassa, where learning has flourished from a very remote period.