The wild flowers were beginning to come out, purple anemones, white violets, &c., but nothing like the wealth of the woods we had just left in Korea. The monasteries were pitched aloft in inaccessible-looking spots, terrace above terrace. When we reached the gorge where we were to stay, it looked well-nigh impossible for the carts to make the ascent. At the entrance gate they halted, and a group of men came forward to help push them up over the rocks. Each cart had two mules, and they pulled with right goodwill, so that in a few minutes of pushing, pulling, and shouting, the carts had been rushed up through the second gateway on to the platform where they were to be housed. Much disappointment was shown by the monks at the non-appearance of our friend the doctor, who was evidently a favourite here as everywhere, but heavy work at the hospital and other reasons had prevented his accompanying us. Up and up the rock-cut steps we climbed to the guest-room, which had been bespoken for our use, and a more attractive spot it would have been impossible to find. Far below the mountain torrent murmured, and wild pigeons and kites added their notes to the music of the brook. I sat down to sketch shortly after our arrival, and the scene was precisely the one to charm a Chinese artist of the old school. I found myself insensibly imitating the reproductions I possess of work done by noted artists of three hundred years ago. A tiny bright green bird perched on a tree close by, and soon the gong began to sound for evening worship. A few monks made their way up the flights of steps to where a faint glimmer of light showed from within the main temple, bowing and kneeling at intervals on the way. Evening settled down and we repaired to our cell, thinking of the lovely rose-coloured dawn when I would paint the scene. Alas! next morning showed a leaden sky, and by the time we had finished breakfast large snowflakes came floating down. The scene melted away before our eyes, and soon the ground was white with snow, and the weather showed no signs of clearing. The disappointment was a bitter one; our one day, our only opportunity gone, and the long cold hours of the day without any occupation to fill them. Fidus Achates brought us a charcoal brazier, but it was poor comfort. After lunch, however, the clouds broke and the snow ceased falling, so we went out to prospect. We were guided by our servant Jim down the gorge and up another, where we came to a long flight of steps leading up to a small Taoist temple, with beautiful wooden carvings round the shrines, and a thoroughly picturesque little courtyard with various plants in it, and brass ornaments brilliantly polished. Altogether it formed a charming picture, and had all the appearance of being carefully tended. A curious sundial and various ornamental tablets were arranged in the court, and there were also the conventional pair of trees on either side of the steps leading to the principal shrine. The