. Like a tree it
may become cleft or overgrown with moss but it remains picturesque. In
the neighbourhood of Sagaing there is a veritable forest of pagodas;
humble seedlings built by widows' mites, mature golden domes reared by
devout prosperity and venerable ruins decomposing as all compound
things must do.

The pagoda slaves are a curious institution connected with temples.
Under the Burmese kings persons could be dedicated to pagodas and by
this process not only became slaves for life themselves but involved
in the same servitude all their posterity, none of whom could by any
method become free. They formed a low caste like the Indian Pariahs
and though the British Government has abolished the legal status of
slavery, the social stigma which clings to them is said to be
undiminished.

Art and architecture make the picture of Burma as it remains in
memory and they are the faithful reflection of the character and ways
of its inhabitants, their cheerful but religious temper, their love of
what is fanciful and graceful, their moderate aspirations towards what
is arduous and sublime. The most striking feature of this architecture
is its free use of gold and colour. In no country of the world is
gilding and plating with gold so lavishly employed on the exterior of
buildings. The larger Pagodas such as the Shwe Dagon are veritable
pyramids of gold, and the roofs of the Arakan temple as they rise
above Mandalay show tier upon tier of golden beams and plates. The
brilliancy is increased by the equally lavish use of vermilion,
sometimes diversified by glass mosaic. I remember once in an East
African jungle seeing a clump of flowers of such brilliant red and
yellow that for a moment I thought it was a fire. Somewhat similar is
the surprise with which one first gazes on these edifices. I do not
know whether the epithet flamboyant can be correctly applied to them
as architecture but both in colour and shape they imitate a pile of
flame, for the outlines of monasteries and shrines are fanciful in the
extreme; gabled roofs with finials like tongues of fire and panels
rich with carvings and fret-work. The buildings of Hindus and Burmans
are as different as their characters. When a Hindu temple is imposing
it is usually because of its bulk and mystery, whereas these buildings
are lighthearted and fairy-like: heaps of red and yellow fruit with
twining leaves and tendrils that have grown by magic. Nor is there
much resemblance to Ja