By this time I may say I had quite made friends with some of the priests, who had put the students back from obstructing my view. A day or two after this, sitting in the courtyard with the usual crowd, there was a sudden crash behind me and a yell from some of my onlookers ; but it was only fear. A brick had been heaved over the wall—at me, I suppose—but it did no harm. Another day, either the same or another young Lama (I had not taken enough notice to distinguish) again persisted in standing in front of me, and I was, through my boy, remonstrating, when a priest saw the trouble ; without a moment's hesita tion he plucked off his beads (great, heavy things, often carried over the left ear), and going up to the youth started to belabour him over his shaven head with them ; and on the youth going off, followed him up and thrashed him right round the courtyard. Coming back to me, he smiled broadly, and told my boy to tell me, if I was bothered again, I was to thrash my tormenters well ; but his punish ment sufficed—I had no more trouble with them.
I had one day a most amusing argument, without words, with one of the priests. I noticed he was talking to my boy and others, and pointing to my picture and to the subject. I found that he said, as the boy put it to me, " Your picture no proper." " Why ? " said I. The picture was the accompanying illustration. There are three doors to the temple, and in front of the centre one, on the stone courtyard, is a rough wooden chair (it is hidden by the figures in my picture) on which, at certain ceremonies, the living Buddha of this temple would sit. From my point of vision that chair appeared to be under the farthest west door (in reality it is in front of the centre door); and, as the priest knew it was in the centre, he said I was wrong. I pulled him forward and held a pencil up in front of his nose, and told my boy to tell him to look past that and see where the chair came ; then I walked him along till in front of the central door, and again made him look past the pencil, and then farther still ; this time he found the chair was under the eastern door ; then back to my picture, and again showed him how it was I got it where it appeared to me. He then understood, and most solemnly kowtowed
to me, and lectured and demonstrated to the crowd all about it. For many days this same priest would bring others to show them the wonders of perspective drawing as shown to him by a barbarian artist ; and I think this little incident helped to give me greater comfort and quiet for my work in this temple, where, with the little exception mentioned, I had a quiet time and was always greeted smilingly.
I frequently took my lunch here, and was watched most curiously by the crowd—Lamas, coolies, and occasionally Mongolians—many of whom, in the train of the Dalai Lama, were lodged at this temple.
In one of the temples in this lamaserai is the enormous Buddha, seventy feet high ; and, going up the staircase to look on the awful countenance of this image, one sees the big prayer-wheels. A simple method of getting in plenty of prayer ! It is better to look out from the balcony over those beautiful roofs, which make one wonder how the people who conceive and execute such beautiful things can yet make their gods so hideously, fearsomely ugly. There is, I believe, a rule that a building once inhabited by an emperor must, on his ascending the throne, become a temple. As emperor he is the Son of Heaven, and therefore no mortal can follow him and dwell in it. It seems to me that must mean a great multiplication of temples. I have heard and read that there are from two to three thousand Lamas here ; certainly the number is large.
Their dress is most distinctive—a brilliant yellow robe, with just inside the long wide sleeves a bit of blue showing, • and the same colour again on their shoes ; with dark red under-robe, and an enormous yellow hat, shaped helmet fashion, the ridge of it feathered. The form is supposed to represent a sacred mountain in Tibet.