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round the temple, leaving a broad passage or aisle behind them. 

 These were all images of Buddha, and were distinguished from 

 the others by each having on his head the representation of a 

 flame (like the " cloven tongues as of fire " that sat on the 

 apostles). You know that the Buddha is a sort of spirit, which 

 comes down from generation to generation on different indi- 

 viduals, converting them for the time into a sort of incarnate 

 God — whence, I suppose, the multiplication of images. And 

 as there is some truth, perhaps, lying hid under every supersti- 

 tion, we have here a recognition, running back into times long 

 preceding the Christian era, of a sensible revelation from the 

 Deity to mankind. Of this the flame on the head seems a 

 fitting emblem. The universal expression of the faces of these 

 Buddhas was melancholy and devotional. The images were all 

 painted bright yellow. Some were of solid rock hewn out of 

 the mountain, but the greater portion were built of brick and 

 mortar. The place is kept in perfect repair. We did not 

 witness the mass, which I regretted ; but in one of the temples 

 the perfume of incense remaining from the last celebration was 

 very obvious. On the face of the rock outside, the guide 

 pointed to a long writing, deeply and sharply cut in some old 

 characters not now known, which no doubt gives an account of 

 the temples. Dr. Hincks would have taken a rubbing, which 

 I did not, being unprepared therefor. 



After leaving Damboul, the road became much more open. 

 Here two species, one shrubby, the other tree-like, of Gadoid 

 Euphorbias, which I had seen previously here and there, became 

 so abundant as to be very striking objects. The largest of these 

 we cultivate at Glasnevin ; but here were trees of it forty feet 

 high at least. I walked through them to enjoy the novel aspect 

 of such enormous succulents. On this hill, under a blazing sun, 

 and growing on dry shrubs, I found the only epiphyte in flower 

 which I saw on my whole route. It was a yellow Epidendrum 

 with spotted stems. Rain had not fallen for nearly five months, 

 yet this plant was in flower. Its roots did not cling to the 

 shrubs, but hung loosely in the air, and looked dried up to half 

 their diameter, but were yet alive at the core. I found only 

 one other orchid. 



