of those whom they sought to persuade. On the
frontiers of Mongolia, the Chinese dress, which they had hitherto worn,
was laid aside; the long tress of hair, that had been cherished since
they left France, was pitilessly sacrificed, to the infinite despair of
their Chinese congregation; and they assumed the habit generally worn by
the Lamas, or priests of Thibet. In the opinion of the Tartars, Lamas
are alone privileged to speak on religious matters; and a layman, or
"black man"[13] (to use their own expression), who should presume to
converse on things spiritual, would excite laughter and contempt. It
was, therefore, good policy to adopt a dress which insured the respect
and attention of their hearers. The costume was one which would have
been rather startling to a priest who, without transition should have
exchanged for it the black _soutaine_ of the Romish church. It consisted
in a yellow robe, fastened on one side with five gilt buttons and
confined at the waist by a long red sash, a red jacket with a violet
collar, and a yellow cap with red tuft. Nor was this all. The same
conciliatory spirit which had dictated the change of costume, presided
over the whole conduct of the travellers; and we find them heroically
declining the hot wine offered by their Chinese host of the frontier
inn, saying, good humoredly, that good Lamas must abstain from wine and
tobacco.

We dwell purposely on these details, because they show the spirit in
which the journey was undertaken, and explain the confidence with which
the travellers were received beneath the Mogul tents, and initiated into
all the details of life in the wilderness. We find them associating
without repugnance with the Tsao-Ta-Dze, or stinking Tartars (so called
by the Chinese, who are themselves far from irreproachable on the score
of cleanliness), purchasing second-hand clothes well besmeared with
mutton fat, and enjoying their Tartar tea as though it had been the
_cafe au lait_ of their native land. This tea, by the bye, deserves a
few words of notice. It differs materially from the tea of the Chinese;
for whereas the latter use only the young and tender leaves of the
plant, the Tartar tea is composed of the coarse leaves, and even some of
the branches, which are pressed into moulds of about the size and
thickness of a brick. When it is to be used, a piece of the brick is
broken off, pulverized, and boiled, a handful of salt is then thrown in,
and the liquid continue