ever, to collect into one chapter the remarks I have to make upon the tea cultivation in this important part of the country.

As I arrived at Tsong-gan-hien early in the day, I stopped there only three hours. This was sufficient to enable me to take a survey of the town, and to obtain some refreshment both for myself and my men. At the end of that time I got into my chair and took the road for Woo-e-shan, which was only forty or fifty le further on. As soon as we were clear of the town the road seemed entirely different from that which we had been travelling on before. The fact is we had left the great tea highway,-that had ended at the town we just passed. Our road was now more narrow and less frequented. The travellers in chairs, the coolies with tea-chests on their shoulders, and all that motley band which we had seen on our journey across the mountains, had disappeared, and we were now journeying alone.

CHAPTER XIII.

Woo-e-shan-Ascent of the hill - Arrive at a Buddhist temple

Description of the temple and the scenery reception - Our dinner and its ceremonies.

Strange rocks My

- An interesting con

versation An evening stroll - Formation of the rocks-Soil

View from the top of Woo-e-shan A priest's grave - A view by moonlight-Chinese wine-Cultivation of the tea-shrub-Chains and monkeys used in gathering it — Tea-merchants - Happiness and contentment of the peasantry.

As soon as I was fairly out of the suburbs of Tsonggan-hien I had my first glimpse of the far-famed Woo-e-shan. It stands in the midst of the plain which I have noticed in the previous chapter, and is a collection of little hills, none of which appear to be more than a thousand feet high. They have a singular appearance. Their faces are nearly all perpendicular rock. It appears as if they had been thrown up by some great convulsion of nature to a certain height, and as if some other force had then drawn the tops of the whole mass slightly backwards, breaking it up into a thousand hills. By some agency of this kind it might have assumed the strange forms which were now before me.

Woo-e-shan is considered by the Chinese to be one of the most wonderful, as well as one of the most sacred, spots in the empire. One of their manuscripts, quoted by Mr. Ball, thus describes it:

"Of all the mountains of Fokien those of Woo-e are the finest, and its water the best. They are awfully high and rugged, surrounded by water, and seem as if excavated by spirits; nothing more wonderful can be seen. From the dynasty of Csin and Han, down to the present time, a succession of hermits and priests, of the sects of Tao-cze and Fo, have here risen up like the clouds of the air and the grass of the field, too numerous to enumerate. Its chief renown, however, is derived from its productions, and of these tea is the most celebrated."

I stood for some time on a point of rising ground midway between Tsong-gan-hien and Woo-e-shan, and surveyed the strange scene which lay before me. I had expected to see a wonderful sight when I reached this place, but I must confess the scene far surpassed any ideas I had formed respecting it. There had been no exaggeration in the description given by the Jesuits, or in the writings of the Chinese, excepting as to the height of the hills. They are not "awfully high;" indeed, they are lower than most of the hills in this part of the country, and far below the height of the mountain ranges which I had just crossed. The men who were with me pointed to the spot with great pride, and said, "Look, that is Woo-e-shan! have you anything in your country to be compared with it?"

The day was fine, and the sun's rays being very powerful I had taken up my position under the spreading branches of a large camphor-tree which grew by the roadside. Here I could willingly have

remained until night had shut out the scene from my view, but my chairbearers, who were now near the end of their journey, intimated that they were ready to proceed, so we went onwards.

The distance from Tsong-gan-hien to Woo-e-shan is only about 40 or 50 le. This is, however, only to the bottom of the hills, and we intended to take up our quarters in one of the principal temples near the top. The distance we had to travel was therefore much greater than this. When we arrived at the foot of the hill we inquired our way to the temple. "Which temple do you wish to go to?" was the answer; "there are nearly a thousand temples on Woo-e-shan." Sing-Hoo explained that we were unacquainted with the names of the different temples, but our object was to reach one of the largest. We were directed, at last, to the foot of some perpendicular rocks. When we reached the spot I expected to get a glimpse of the temple we were in search of somewhere on the hill side above us, but there was nothing of the kind. A small footpath, cut out of the rock, and leading over almost inaccessible places, was all I could see. It was now necessary for me to get out of my chair, and to scramble up the pathway -often on my hands and knees. Several times the coolies stopped, and declared that it was impossible to get the chair any further. I pressed on, however, and they were obliged to scramble after me with it.

It was now about two o'clock in the afternoon; there was scarcely a cloud in the sky, and the day was fearfully hot. As I climbed up the rugged steep,

the perspiration streaming from every pore, I began to think of fever and ague, and all those ills which the traveller is subject to in this unhealthy climate. We reached the top of the hill at last, and our eyes were gladdened with the sight of a rich luxuriant spot, which I knew at once to be near a Buddhist temple. Being a considerable way in advance of my chairbearers and coolies, I sat down under the shade of a tree to rest and get cool before I entered its sacred precincts. In a few minutes my people arrived with smiling countenances, for they had got a glimpse of the temple through the trees, and knew that rest and refreshment awaited them.

The Buddhist priesthood seem always to have selected the most beautiful spots for the erection of their temples and dwellings. Many of these places owe their chief beauty to the protection and cultivation of trees. The wood near a Buddhist temple in China is carefully protected, and hence a traveller can always distinguish their situation, even when some miles distant. In this respect these priests resemble the enlightened monks and abbots of the olden time, to whose taste and care we owe some of the richest and most beautiful sylvan scenery in Europe.

The temple, or collection of temples, which we now approached, was situated on the sloping side of a small valley, or basin, on the top of Woo-e-shan, which seemed as if it had been scooped out for the purpose. At the bottom of this basin a small lake was seen glistening through the trees, and covered