That story may either have been changed into history by some early chronicler who had nothing better to do; or, and this is more likely, some princess at Dessau may really have made herself known by her kindness to poor people, and then the mere wish of the poor that some good fairy might reward her would easily have become mixed up with the old legends about wise women appearing in various animal disguises, and bestowing their blessing, or even some substantial gift in the shape of a gold ring, on their deserving friends. Certain it is that the gold ring of Frau Kröte is preserved with religious care to the present day. It is kept in a small safe, carefully hidden away in the wall of the old castle. The Duke only has the key which opens the safe, and when it was last shown to me by the reigning Duke the greatest precaution was taken against every possible accident, and, more particularly, against the danger of the ring falling on the floor, which, as I was informed, would have portended some dire misfortune to the reigning family.

F. MAX MÜLLER.

THE CITY OF LHÁSA.

It seems strange that at this advanced period in the world's history there should still remain any city of importance which has never yet been visited by any European now living. Nevertheless the huge city of Lhásá, the capital of Tibet, the Rome of the vast family of Northern Buddhists, occupies at the present day that unique position. Three only, or, at the most, four, natives of Europe during the past hundred years have managed to reach the confines of the mysterious metropolis. It is already forty-five years since the two last of these adventurous heroes, the French missionaries Huc and Gabet, made their residence of six weeks, and were then expelled from the Grand Lama's stronghold. Twenty-five years have elapsed since the Abbé Huc, the survivor, died, after giving to the world his charming series of volumes concerning Tibet, Mongolia, and China. In the meantime many Indian sportsmen have boasted in recent years of having ' entered Tibet;' but on cross-examination it is always made evident that they have not penetrated at the furthest a dozen miles beyond the actual frontier-line of Tibet proper, even at the Ladak side of the country. As to reaching Lhásá itself, neither Englishman, Frenchman, nor Russian has in our own time advanced to within 200 miles of that coveted goal. Alas! that the dauntless traveller Pryevalski should have been cut off, the dream of his life unrealised. However, although no European now existent has ever been even near to the forbidden city, yet it is equally strange that the topography, defences, and general features of Lhásá, as she stands at the present day, are tolerably familiar to several English officials in India. The very names of the streets are recorded; whilst two independently-drawn plans of the city are now in the hands of the Government; or were in its hands, for it is whispered that one-the most correct-has been lost!

We have been enabled to procure by degrees this recent and accurate account of the greater portion of Tibet by a somewhat ingenious machinery. At Darjiling there has been established an institution known as the Bhutia School, where certain lads of the Sikkim clan of Tibetans are clothed and educated at the Government

expense. English is taught them by a Bengali master, and Tibetan by a resident lama. From these a few of the more promising are drafted elsewhere, to be trained in surveying and the use of observing instruments; and ultimately, if they seem discreet and of the proper metal, they are despatched as secret explorers beyond the Himalayas. It is from the private reports and observations of these trained emissaries that at length a fair half of the inhabited parts of Tibet has been described and mapped out with some degree of minuteness. The explorers, from their thorough knowledge of the language and manners of the people, usually succeed in deceiving the Tibetan guards stationed at every accessible pass along the frontier line. As the authorities have long ago become aware of our tactics, when within the forbidden land, the utmost guile is still essential. But our agents are true masters of craft. Observing instruments and diaries can be hidden in the cylinders of their prayer-wheels, and detection is rarely their lot. Thus, A. K. resided for a whole year in Lhásá; and by the help of his Buddhist rosary measured nearly every street in the place. Again, through the observations of N. S., M. H., and L., the dimensions of lakes, heights of mountains, and the latitude and longitude of numerous fortresses and towns, have been accurately determined and recorded.

But the most remarkable exploring adventure of all remains to be mentioned. This was a secret enterprise under the auspices of the Indian Government; but it was the performance, not of one of the trained spies who are of Tibetan extraction, but of a Bengali, one Sarat Chandra Dás. This gentleman was at one time headmaster of the Darjiling Bhutia school; and there he was seized with a perfect mania for the study of the Tibetan language and literature. His learning and general abilities soon attracted Government notice. Though a Bengali by birth and education, he acquired a marvellous acquaintance with colloquial Tibetan, which differs greatly from the literary language. Accordingly he was taken into special Government employment; and, although holding, as he still does, the nominal office of Inspector of Schools, has been constituted ever since a confidential referee in all technical matters relating to Tibet. In the year 1881 Sarat Chandra Dás offered to undertake a secret journey to Lhásá in the disguise of a Tibetan lama. He had already accomplished an expedition of this kind, wherein he had managed to reach Tashi-lhumpo, the second capital of Tibet. Having been furnished by Government with money, and with various costly presents to reward any great Tibetan officials who might befriend him, he set out from Darjiling, on our side of the Himalayas, one dark night in November 1881. He was accompanied by a Sikkim lama of the Red Cap Buddhist school, one Lama U-gyen Gyats'ho, a resident at Darjiling. The pair had to leave Darjiling and traverse even the quasi-friendly state of Sikkim with the utmost secrecy; otherwise

information would have reached the Tibetan frontier before them in the magical manner it always does, and the travellers would have been inevitably stopped. They entered Tibet viâ Nipal over the dangerous Kanglachhen Pass, 17,000 feet high; and, after the most arduous and surprising adventures, and after visiting many places and monasteries hitherto undescribed, Babu Sarat Chandra Dás at length saw before him the glittering domes of the mysterious Lhásá. They resided in Lhásá not longer than two weeks, but he seems to have made good use of that time in visiting everything that was notable, even obtaining an interview with the Grand Lama. His return journey occupied six months; and he did not reach Darjiling until the 27th of December, 1882. The narrative of his travels is really most fascinating reading. It was written in the outward form of a confidential report to Government, but has been only privately printed and is not allowed to be made public. If published we believe it would prove one of the most delightful books of travel ever written. Its simple narrative style-most creditable to a Bengali— is relieved by the introduction, every few pages, of Tibetan legendary lore of a very interesting kind. The suppression of this narration seems somewhat of an injustice to the worthy Babu's reputation.

Notwithstanding governmental secrecy-both that which is necessary, and that which seems unnecessary-it has been the good fortune of the writer of this paper, not only to inspect copies of the native explorers' reports, but also to read the narrative communicated by Chandra Dás. The information thus derived has been, further, supplemented by interviews with the leading natives who have visited Tibet. With such trustworthy materials in his hands and head, the writer feels himself justified in presenting to the curious a new description of the city of Lhásá, its buildings and its inhabitants.

After crossing the magnificent valley of the Yaru Tsang-po, the great west-to-east river which traverses Tibet for a length of 500 miles, you find yourself again in the meshes of a network of ravines and radiating mountain ranges. But, down into the Tsang-po from the north-east, making for itself a narrow valley amid this rocky region, there runs a lesser stream known as the Kyi Chhu, or River of Happiness, which strikes the main river in longitude 90° 42'. Some fortyfive miles up this branch stream, where the narrow valley has widened out into a broad and fertile plain, with the mountains frowning in wondrous embattlements to the north and north-west and north-east of it, has been built the capital of Tibet. Lhá-sá, or in English 'the Seat of the Gods,' is well situated in this verdant flowery plain. You see its domes overlaid with gilding, glittering from afar. To the northwest, just outside the city proper, rises the abrupt conical hill known as Potala; and terraced on this hill stand temples and palaces and chhortens in a curious jumble. Turn your eyes eagerly towards those tiers upon tiers of buildings which tower up yon mount; for, encaged

within one of them, is most certainly to be found the central object of veneration in the Buddhist world, the Dalai Lama of Tibet! And look straight ahead of you, as you ride due east along the main road to the sacred city; and, lo! there is seen another lofty mound crowned with domed palaces. That is Chokpoi Ri, whereon stands the Waidurya Ta-ts'ang (Lapis-lazuli school'), the medical University of Tibet, where 300 students are being constantly trained for the profession.

But we are still five miles from our goal; and this plain which surrounds Lhásá deserves further attention. Its elevation above sea-level is 11,600 feet or so; but even that height allows it to be a valley compared with the altitudes we have just been traversing-quite 14,000 feet, with here and there a shoulder ascending to over 16,000 feet. The plain over which we are riding is a wonderfully fruitful one. It is skirted on the south by the Kyi river, and is watered, moreover, by another smaller stream from the north, the Toi-lung, which flows into the Kyi, just where we are, some five miles west of Lhásá. All this land is carefully irrigated by means of dykes and cross channels from both rivers. Fields of buckwheat, barley, pea, rape, and linseed lie in orderly series everywhere. The meadows near the water display the richest emerald-green pasturage. Groves of poplar and willow, in shapely clumps, combine with the grassy stretches to give in places a park-like appearance to the scene. Several hamlets and villages, such as Cheri, Daru, and Shing Dongkhar, are dotted over these lands. A fertile plain truly for a besieging army!

Presently we come to a region of suburban character. Large and small houses-shall we call them 'villas' ?-seated in gardens and flanked by orchards, the homes to which the non-ecclesiastical gentry of Lhásá retreat after business hours. Immediately outside the city are several groves and parks. A large and beautiful park, the Norpu Linga ('Grove of Precious Gems'), abuts at the south-west quarter. The river flows due east and west near the city, keeping an average distance of a mile from its southern boundary. Here lies a marshy flat of sand-banks and dykes, over which the Kyi is constantly encroaching; and canals and embankments have been made to save Lhásá from submersion.

And now you are about to enter the magic city herself. She is famous for her gilded domes and gold-plated spires; and as you approach the gates, the morning sun flashes in quite a splendid manner from the burnished ganjiras of the Ramo-chhe and Cho-khang temples, and is glinted back, as from a hundred heliographs, from the golden domes high up on the Potala hill to your left. You enter Lhásá from the west by the Pargo Kaling gate. You find yourself at once in a broad roadway, with trees planted boulevard-wise on either side, green in foliage in spite of their decrepit trunks. The houses which line the road are lofty and whitewashed, roofed in a very pretty fashion th Chinese tiles, glazed and blue. Every house has long, narrow rwie

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