“Mr. Csoma’s hamlet is at the extreme upper limit of the village of Kanum, at an absolute elevation of 9500 feet. Around him are the romantic abodes of monks, whose religious ceremonies, their pious incantations, &c., have a singular affinity to Romish customs. Below is the monastery, containing the Encyclopædia, but it is also converted into what seems a more substantial purpose with the people, for on my return to Kanum in the beginning of November I found it filled with grapes, and about thirty whole sheep hung up for winter consumption, yet poor Mr. Csoma can hardly afford to taste even a piece of one. The climate here, though warm in summer, is singularly dry, and to this circumstance more than temperature is owing the preservation of animal food for months. There are several convents at this village, but the exactions are far from rigorous, and Mr. Csoma told me, with an air of derision, that many of the nuns became mothers, and in fact enter the convents if they cannot get married or do better; their choice is therefore a prudential measure when they are liable to fare worse: there is much sense though no merit in this. Mr. Csoma showed me some improvements he had made to his cottage; one was a fireplace, which has cost him twelve rupees, and here I could not help feeling with sympathy the value of such a sum to a man, whose whole earthly happiness consists in being merely able to live and devote himself to mankind, with no other reward than a just appreciation and honest fame, while I was at the same time daily and no doubt foolishly expending more than enough to give comfort and effect to a mind so noble; feeling, as I did, how little he wanted for himself and how little I valued that which to him provided food for body and mind. Two rustic benches and a couple of ruder chairs are all the furniture in his small abode; but the place looks comfortable and the volumes of the Tibetan works, the ‘Kahgyur’ and ‘Stangyur,’ his manuscripts, and papers are neatly piled up around him. Had Mr. Csoma greater pecuniary resources, he would invite learned men from Teshi Lhunpo, Lassa, and with their assistance study the Mongol language, which he considers the key to Chinese literature. There are many valuable works in the libraries of those ancient cities which are likely never to become an acquisition to our knowledge but through the labours of such a genius as Mr. Csoma. His great aim and unceasing anxiety is to get access to Mongolia and make himself acquainted with the language and people of that strange and very ancient country. The study of dialects to him is no labour, grounded as he is in a perfect knowledge of classical literature and more or less familiar with the structure of every spoken language; but he wants books to revive his early impressions.