reformers. But
though almost every feature of Lamaism finds a parallel somewhere in
India, yet too great insistence on its source and historical
development hardly does justice to the originality of the Tibetans.
They borrowed a foreign faith wholesale, but still the relative
emphasis which they laid on its different aspects was something new.
They had only a moderate aptitude for asceticism, meditation and
metaphysics, although they manfully translated huge tomes of Sanskrit
philosophy, but they had a genius for hierarchy, discipline and
ecclesiastical polity unknown to the Hindus. Thus taking the common
Asiatic idea that great and holy men are somehow divine, they made it
the principle of civil and sacerdotal government by declaring the
prelates of the church to be deities incarnate. Yet in strange
contrast to these practical talents, a certain innate devilry made
them exaggerate all the magical, terrifying and demoniac elements to
be found in Indian Tantrism.

The extraordinary figures of raging fiends which fill Tibetan shrines
suggest at first that the artists simply borrowed and made more
horrible the least civilized fancies of Indian sculpture, yet the
majesty of Tibetan architecture (for, judging by the photographs of
Lhasa and Tashilhumpo, it deserves no less a name) gives another
impression. The simplicity of its lines and the solid, spacious walls
unadorned by carving recall Egypt rather than India and harmonize not
with the many-limbed demons but with the calm and dignified features
of the deified priests who are also portrayed in these halls.

An atmosphere of mystery and sorcery has long hung about the
mountainous regions which lie to the north of India. Hindus and
Chinese alike saw in them the home of spirits and wizards, and the
grand but uncanny scenery of these high plateaux has influenced the
art and ideas of the natives. The climate made it natural that priests
should congregate in roomy strongholds, able to defy the cold and
contain the stores necessary for a long winter, and the massive walls
seem to imitate the outline of the rocks out of which they grow. But
the strange shapes assumed by mists and clouds, often dyed many
colours by the rising or setting sun, suggest to the least imaginative
mind an aerial world peopled by monstrous and magical figures. At
other times, when there is no fog, distant objects seem in the still,
clear atmosphere to be very near, until the discovery that they are
r