mission to
see the temple, and to walk in the gardens. A monk advanced in
years, but still full of vigour and vivacity, accompanied me. I
saw several others, of different ages, who were walking there.
But what surprised me was to see a great many of them amusing
themselves by various agreeable and sportive games with young
girls elegantly dressed, listening to their songs, and joining in
their dances. The monk, who accompanied me, listened with great
civility and kindness to the questions I put to him concerning
his order. The following is the sum of his answers to my numerous
interrogations. The God Faraki, whom we worship, is so called
from a word which signifies the _fabricator_. He made all that
we behold--the earth, the stars, the sun, etc. He has endowed
men with senses, which are so many sources of pleasure, and we
think the only way of shewing our gratitude is to use them. This
opinion will, doubtless, appear to you much more rational than
that of the faquirs of India, who pass their lives in thwarting
nature, and who inflict upon themselves the most melancholy
privations and the most severe sufferings.

As soon as the sun rises, we repair to the mountain you see before
us, at the foot of which flows a stream of the most limpid water,
which meanders in graceful windings through that meadow--enamelled
with the loveliest flowers. We gather the most fragrant of them,
which we carry and lay upon the altar, together with various
fruits, which we receive from the bounty of Faraki. We then sing
his praises, and execute dances expressive of our thankfulness,
and of all the enjoyments we owe to this beneficent deity. The
highest of these is that which love produces, and we testify
our ardent gratitude by the manner in which we avail ourselves
of this inestimable gift of Faraki. Having left the temple, we
go into several shady thickets, where we take a light repast;
after which, each of us employs himself in some unoppressive
labour. Some embroider, others apply themselves to painting,
others cultivate flowers or fruits, others turn little implements
for our use. Many of these little works are sold to the people,
who purchase them with eagerness. The money arising from this
sale forms a considerable part of our revenue. Our morning is
thus devoted to the worship of God and to the exercise of the
sense of Sight, which begins with the first rays of the sun.
The sense of Taste is gratified by our dinner, and we add to it