CHAPTER VI.

Visit of Five Spies--Appearance before the Regent--Ki-Chan makes us

undergo an Examination--Supper at the expense of the Government--A night

of imprisonment with the Regent--Confidential communications of the

Governor of the Katchi--Domiciliary Visit--Seals affixed to all our

effects--Sinico-Thibetian Tribunal--Inquiry about the Geographical

Maps--Homage paid to Christianity, and to the French name--The Regent

assigns to us one of his Houses--Erection of a Chapel--Preaching of the

Gospel--Conversion of a Chinese Doctor--Religious Conferences with the

Regent--Recreation with a Magnifying Glass--Conversations with

Ki-Chan--Religious character of the Thibetians--Celebrated formula of the

Buddhists--Buddhist Pantheism--Election of the Tale-Lama--The Small-pox

at Lha-Ssa--Sepultures in use among the Thibetians.

As soon as we had presented ourselves to the Thibetian authorities,

declaring our characters and the object which had brought us to Lha-Ssa,

we availed ourselves of the semi-official position we had thus taken, to

enter into communication with the Thibetian and Tartar Lamas, and thus,

at last, to begin our work as missionaries. One day, when we were

sitting beside our modest hearth, talking of religious questions with a

Lama who was well versed in Buddhist learning, a Chinese dressed in

exquisite style suddenly appeared before us, saying that he was a

merchant and very desirous of buying our goods. We told him we had

nothing to sell. "How, nothing to sell?" "Not anything, except indeed

those two old saddles, which we do not want any longer." "Ah, exactly;

that is just what I am looking for; I want saddles." Then, while he

examined our poor merchandise, he addressed to us a thousand questions

about our country and the places we had visited before we came to

Lha-Ssa. Shortly afterwards there arrives a second Chinese, then a

third, and at last two Lamas, in costly silk scarves. All these visitors

insisted upon buying something from us; they overwhelmed us with

questions, and seemed, at the same time, to scrutinise with distrust all

the corners of our chamber.

We might say, as often as we liked, that we were not merchants--they

insisted. In default of silk, drapery, or hardware, they would like our

saddles; they turned them round and round in every way, finding them now

perfectly magnificent, now abominable. At last, after long haggling and

cross-questioning, they went off, promising to return.

The visit of these five individuals occasioned much serious reflection;

their manner of acting and speaking was not at all natural. Although

they came one after the other, yet they seemed perfectly to understand

each other, and to aim at the same end by the same means. Their desire

of buying something from us was evidently a mere pretext for disguising

their intentions: these people were rather swindlers or spies, than real

merchants. "Well," we said, "let us wait quietly; sooner or later we

shall see clearly into this affair."

As it was dinner time, we sat down to table, or rather, we remained at

the fireside, contemplating the pot, in which a good cut of beef had been

boiling for some hours. Samdadchiemba, in his quality of steward,

brought this to the surface of the liquid by means of a large wooden

spoon, seized it with his nails, and threw it on the end of a board,

where he cut it into three equal pieces; each then took his portion in

his cup, and with the aid of a few rolls baked in the ashes, we

tranquilly commenced our dinner without troubling ourselves very much

about swindlers or spies. We were at our dessert--that is to say, we

were about to rinse our cups with some buttered tea, when the two Lamas,

the pretended merchants, made their re-appearance. "The Regent," they

said, "awaits you in his palace; he wants to speak to you." "But," cried

we, "does the Regent, perchance, also want to buy our old saddles?" "It

is not a question about either saddles or merchandise. Rise at once, and

follow us to the Regent." The matter was now beyond a doubt; the

government was desirous of meddling with us--to what end? Was it to do

us good or ill, to give us liberty, or to shackle us? to let us live or

to make us die? This we could not tell. "Let us go to the Regent," we

said, "and trust for the rest to the will of our heavenly Father."

After having dressed ourselves in our best, and put on our majestic caps

of fox-skin, we said to our apparitor, "We are ready." "And this young

man," he said, pointing to Samdadchiemba, who had turned his eyes upon

him with no very affectionate expression. "This young man, he is our

servant, he will take care of the house in our absence." "No, no, he

must come too; the Regent wishes to see all three of you." Samdadchiemba

shook, by way of making his toilet, his great robe of sheepskin, placed,

in a very insolent manner, a small black cap over his ear, and we

departed all together, after padlocking the door of our lodging.

We went at a rapid pace for about five or six minutes, and then arrived

at the palace of the First Kalon, the Regent of Thibet. After having

crossed a large courtyard, where were assembled a great number of Lamas

and Chinese, who began to whisper when they saw us appear, we were

stopped before a gilt door, the folds of which stood ajar; our leader

passed through a small corridor on the left, and an instant after the

door was opened. At the farther end of an apartment, simply furnished,

we perceived a personage sitting with crossed legs on a thick cushion

covered with a tiger's-skin: it was the Regent. With his right hand he

made us a sign to approach. We went close up to him, and saluted him by

placing our caps under our arms. A bench covered with a red carpet stood

on our right; on this we were invited to sit down--we complied

immediately. Meantime the gilt door was closed, and there remained in

the saloon only the Regent and seven individuals, who stood behind

him--namely, four Lamas of a modest and composed bearing, two

sly-looking, mischievous-eyed Chinese, and a person whom, by his long

beard, his turban, and grave countenance, we recognised to be a

Mussulman. The Regent was a man of fifty years of age; his large

features, mild and remarkably pallid, breathed a truly royal majesty; his

dark eyes, shaded by long lashes, were intelligent and gentle. He was

dressed in a yellow robe, edged with sable; a ring, adorned with

diamonds, hung from his left ear, and his long, jet black hair was

collected together at the top of his head, and fastened by three small

gold combs. His large red cap, set with pearls and surmounted by a coral

ball, lay at his side on a green cushion.

When we were seated, the Regent gazed at us for a long while in silence,

and with a minute attention. He turned his head alternately to the right

and left, and smiled at us in a half mocking, half friendly manner. This

sort of pantomime appeared to us at last so droll, that we could not help

laughing. "Come," we said in French, and in an undertone, "this

gentleman seems a good fellow enough; our affair will go on very well."

"Ah!" said the Regent, in a very affable tone, "what language is that you

speak? I did not understand what you said?" "We spoke the language of

our country." "Well, repeat aloud what you said just now." "We said,

'This gentleman seems a good-natured fellow enough.'" The Regent,

turning to those who were standing behind him, said, "Do you understand

this language?" They all bowed together, and answered that they did not

understand it. "You see, nobody here understands the language of your

country. Translate your words into the Thibetian." We said, that in the

physiognomy of the First Kalon there was expressed much kindliness. "Ah!

you think I have much kindliness; yet I am very ill-natured. Is it not

true that I am very ill-natured?" he asked his attendants. They answered

merely by smiling. "You are right," continued the Regent; "I am kind,

for kindness is the duty of a Kalon. I must be kind towards my people,

and also towards strangers." He then addressed to us a long harangue, of

which we could comprehend only a few sentences. When he had finished, we

told him that, not being much accustomed to the Thibetian language, we

had not fully penetrated the sense of his words. The Regent signed to a

Chinese, who, stepping forward, translated to us his harangue, of which

the following is the outline. We had been summoned without the slightest

idea of being molested. The contradictory reports that had circulated

respecting us since our arrival at Lha-Ssa, had induced the Regent to

question us himself, in order to know where we came from. "We are from

the western sky," we said to the Regent. "From Calcutta?" "No; our

country is called France." "You are, doubtless, Peling?" "No, we are

Frenchmen." "Can you write?" "Better than speak." The Regent, turning

round, addressed some words to a Lama, who disappearing, returned in a

moment with paper, ink, and a bamboo point. "Here is paper," said the

Regent; "write something." "In what language--in Thibetian?" "No, write

some letters in your own country's language." One of us took the paper

on his knees, and wrote this sentence: "What avails it to man to conquer

the whole world, if he lose his soul?" "Ah, here are characters of your

country! I never saw any like them; and what is the meaning of that?"

We wrote the translation in Thibetian, Tartar, and Chinese, and handed it

to him. "I have not been deceived," he said; "you are men of great

knowledge. You can write in all languages, and you express thoughts as

profound as those we find in the prayer-books." He then repeated, slowly

moving his head to and fro, "What avails it to man to conquer the whole

world if he lose his own soul?"

While the Regent and his attendants were indulging in their raptures at

our wonderful knowledge, we heard on a sudden, in the courtyard of the

palace, the cries of the crowd and the sonorous noise of the Chinese

tamtam. "Here is the ambassador of Peking," said the Regent, "he wishes

to examine you himself. Tell him frankly what concerns you, and rely on

my protection; it is I who govern the country." This said, he quitted

the saloon with his retinue through a small secret door, and left us

alone in this judgment-hall.

The idea of falling into the hands of the Chinese made at first a

disagreeable impression upon us; and the picture of those horrible

persecutions which at different times have afflicted the christendoms of

China, seized upon our imagination; but we soon recovered our spirits in

the reflection that we were alone, and isolated as we were in the midst

of Thibet, could not compromise any one. This thought gave us courage.

"Samdadchiemba," we said to our young neophyte, "now must we show that we

are brave men, that we are Christians. This affair will perhaps proceed

to great lengths; but let us never lose sight of eternity. If we are

treated well, we shall thank God for it; if we are maltreated, we shall

thank him nevertheless, for we shall have the happiness of suffering for

the faith. If we are killed, the martyrdom will be a splendid crowning

of all our labours. To arrive, after a journey of only eighteen months,

in heaven, were not that a good journey? were not that happiness? What

do you say, Samdadchiemba?" "I have never been in fear of death; if I am

asked whether I am a Christian, you will see if I tremble."

This excellent frame of mind in Samdadchiemba filled our hearts with joy,

and completely dissipated the unpleasant impressions which this

misadventure had occasioned. We thought for a moment of considering the

questions that would probably be put to us, and the answers we should

give; but we rejected this counsel of mere human prudence, reflecting

that the moment had come for us to keep strictly to the injunction which

our Saviour addressed to his disciples, that "when they were brought

before the synagogues, governors, and kings, they should take no thought

how or what they should speak;" only it was agreed that we should salute

the Mandarin in the French way, and that we should not kneel before him.

We thought that, having the honour to be Christians, missionaries, and

Frenchmen, we might very fairly insist on standing erect before any

Chinese whatsoever.

After waiting a few moments, a young Chinese, elegantly dressed, and of

very graceful manners, came to inform us that Ki-Chan, grand ambassador

of the grand Emperor of China, wished to examine us. We followed our

amiable apparitor, and were ushered into a saloon decorated in the

Chinese style, where Ki-Chan was seated upon a sort of throne, about

three feet high, and covered with red cloth. Before him was a small

table of black laque, upon which were an inkstand, some pens, some sheets

of paper, and a silver vase filled with snuff. Below the throne were

four scribes, two on the right, and two on the left; the rest of the

saloon was occupied by a great number of Chinese and Thibetians, who had

put on their holiday dresses to attend the inquiry.

Ki-Chan, although sixty years old, seemed to us full of strength and

vigour. His face is, without contradiction, the most noble, elegant, and

intellectual we have seen amongst the Chinese. When we took off our caps

to him, and made him one of our best bows, "'Tis well, 'tis well," he

said; "follow your own customs. I have been told you speak correctly the

language of Peking. I want to talk with you for a moment." "We make

many blunders in speaking, but your marvellous understanding will know

how to remedy the obscurity of our words." "Why, that is pure Pekinese.

You Frenchmen possess a great facility for all learning. You are

Frenchmen, are you not?" "Yes, we are Frenchmen." "Oh, I know the

French; there were formerly a great many of them at Peking; I used to see

some of them." "You must have known them, too, at Canton, when you were

imperial commissioner?" This reminiscence furrowed the forehead of our

judge; he took an abundant pinch of snuff out of his box, and threw it up

his nose in a very bad humour. "Yes, that is true; I have seen many

Europeans at Canton. You are of the religion of the Lord of Heaven, are

you not?" "Certainly we are; moreover, preachers of that religion." "I

know, I know; you have come hither, doubtless, to preach that religion?"

"We have no other object." "Have you already travelled over a great

number of countries?" "We have travelled over all China, Tartary, and

now we are in the capital of Thibet." "With whom did you live when you

were in China?" "We do not answer questions of that sort." "And if I

command you to do so?" "We should not obey." Here the irritated judge

struck the table with his fist. "You know," we said, "that Christians

have no fear; why seek, then, to intimidate us?" "Where did you learn

Chinese?" "In China." "In what place?" "A little everywhere." "And

the Tartar, you know it? where did you learn it?" "In Mongolia, in the

Land of Grass."

After some other trifling questions, Ki-Chan, telling us that we must be

tired, invited us to seat ourselves. Then suddenly changing his tone and

manner, he addressed Samdadchiemba, who, with his hand on his hip, had

been standing a little behind us. "And you," he said, in a dry and angry

voice, "whence are you?" "I am from Ki-Tou-Sse." "What is Ki-Tou-Sse?

who knows that?" "Ki-Tou-Sse is in San-Tchouen." "Ah, you are from

San-Tchouen, in the province of Kan-Sou. Son of the central nation, on

your knees!" Samdadchiemba turned pale, his hand left his hip, and his

arm modestly glided down along his leg. "On your knees," repeated the

Mandarin, in a thundering voice. Samdadchiemba fell on his knees,

saying, "On my knees, standing or sitting, 'tis all the same to me: a man

of labour and fatigue, as I am, is not accustomed to take his ease."

"Ah, you are from Kan-Sou," said the judge, taking large pinches of

snuff; "ah! you are from Kan-Sou; you are a child of the central nation!

Very well; in that case, it is within my province to deal with you. Son

of the central nation, answer your father and mother, and take heed how

you tell lies. Where did you meet with these two foreigners? How did

you become attached to their service?" Samdadchiemba gave, with perfect

self-confidence, a long history of his life, which seemed to interest the

auditory; he then related how he had made our acquaintance in Tartary,

and the reasons that had induced him to follow us. Our young neophyte

spoke with dignity, and, moreover, with a prudence which we had not

expected. "Why did you adopt the religion of the Lord of Heaven? Don't

you know that this is forbidden by the grand Emperor?" "The _entirely

humble_ {172} adopted that religion, because it is the only true

religion. How could I suppose that the grand Emperor proscribed a

religion which orders man to do good and to avoid evil?" "That is true,

the religion of the Lord of Heaven is holy; I know it. Why did you enter

the service of these foreigners? Don't you know that the laws forbid

that?" "How should an ignorant man, as I am, know who is a foreigner,

and who not? These men always showed kindness to me, always exhorted me

to practise virtue; why was I not to follow them?" "How much wages do

they pay you?" "If I accompany them, it is to save my soul, and not to

get money. My masters have never let me want rice and clothes, and with

that I am satisfied." "Are you married?" "As I was a Lama, before

entering the religion of the Lord of Heaven, I have never been married."

The judge then laughingly addressed an indelicate question to

Samdadchiemba, who lowered his eyes and remained silent. One of us

rising, said to Ki-Chan: "Our religion not only prohibits the commission

of impure actions, but also the thinking or speaking of them; it is even

not permitted to us to listen to indecent expressions." These words

pronounced with calmness and solemnity, raised a slight blush on the face

of his excellency the ambassador of China. "I know," he said, "I know

the religion of the Lord of Heaven is holy; I know it, for I have read

its books of doctrine; he who should strictly keep all its precepts would

be a man without reproach." He made a sign to Samdadchiemba to rise;

then, turning to us, he said: "It is night, you must be tired; it is time

to take supper; you may go; to-morrow, if I want you, I will send for

you."

The ambassador Ki-Chan was quite right, it was very late, and the various

emotions which had been furnished to us in the course of the evening had

not by any means supplied the place of supper. On leaving the

Sinico-Thibetian pretorium, we were accosted by a venerable Lama, who

informed us that the First Kalon awaited us. We crossed the court,

illuminated by some red lanterns; turned on the right, to a perilous

staircase, which we ascended, prudently holding on by our conductor's

robe; then, after traversing a long terrace, in the dubious light of the

stars, we were introduced to the Regent. The large and lofty room was

splendidly lighted by butter-oil lamps, the walls, the ceiling, even the

floor, were all covered with gilding and brilliant colours. The Regent

was alone; he bade us sit down near himself on a rich carpet, and

endeavoured to express by his words, and still more by his gestures, how

deep an interest he felt in us. Above all, we clearly understood that he

was making arrangements to keep us from starving. Our pantomime was

interrupted by the arrival of a person, who left, upon entering, his

slippers at the door; it was the governor of the Cashmerian Mussulmen.

After having saluted the company, by raising his hand to his forehead,

and pronouncing the formula, "Salamalek" he leant against a column, in

the centre of the room, which supported the ceiling. The Mussulmen

governor spoke Chinese very well; and the Regent had accordingly sent for

him to act as interpreter. Immediately upon his arrival, a servant

placed before us a small table, and supper was served up to us at the

expense of the Thibetian government. We shall not say anything here as

to the Regent's _cuisine_; firstly, because our keen appetite did not

permit us to pay sufficient attention to the quality of the dishes;

secondly, because that day our minds were more occupied with politics

than with gastronomy. All of a sudden we missed Samdadchiemba; we asked

what had become of him: "He is with my servants," answered the Regent;

"do not trouble yourselves on his account, he shall not want for

anything."

During, and after the repast, there was much inquiry about France and the

countries we had visited. Then the Regent, pointing to the pictures that

adorned his room, asked whether we could ourselves paint any such. "We

cannot paint," was our answer; "study, and the preaching of the doctrine

of Jehovah are our only occupations." "Oh, don't tell me you cannot

paint; I know that the people of your country are very skilful in that

art." "Yes, those who make it their employment; but our clergymen are

not in the habit of exercising it." "Though you may not follow this art

specially, yet you are not quite unacquainted with it; you can,

doubtless, draw geographical maps?" "No, we cannot." "How! on your

journey did you never sketch, did you never make a map?" "Never." "Oh,

that is impossible!" The pertinacity of the Regent in questioning us on

this subject, made us pause to reflect; presently we expressed the

surprise we felt at all these inquiries. "I see," he said, "that you are

straightforward, honest men; I will speak frankly to you. The Chinese

are very suspicious, you are aware of that: you have been long enough in

China to know it as well as I do; well, they believe that you are

travelling through foreign kingdoms, on purpose to draw maps of them and

to explore them. If you do draw, if you do make geographical maps, admit

it without fear; rely on my protection." Evidently the Regent was afraid

of an invasion; he fancied, perhaps, that we were charged with laying

down the route for some formidable army, ready to overwhelm Thibet. We

endeavoured to dissipate his fears, and to assure him of the extremely

peaceful views of the French government. We admitted, however, that

amongst our effects there was a great number of drawings and geographical

maps, and that we had even a map of Thibet. At these words, the face of

the Regent was suddenly contracted; but we hastened to add, in order to

quiet him, that all our drawings and maps were printed, and that we were

not their authors. We took the opportunity to speak to the Regent and

the Cashmerian governor, of the geographical knowledge of the Europeans.

They were greatly astonished when we told them that, with us, children of

ten and twelve years old possessed an exact and complete idea of all the

kingdoms of the world.

The conversation extended far into the night. At last the Regent rose,

and asked us whether we did not feel in want of a little repose. "We

only awaited," we answered, "for the permission of the Kalon, to return

to our lodgings." "Your lodgings! I have ordered an apartment to be

prepared for you in my palace; you will sleep here to-night: to-morrow,

you can return to your house." We sought to excuse ourselves from

accepting the kind offer of the Regent; but soon became aware that we

were not at liberty to refuse what we had been simple enough to consider

a compliment. We were regular prisoners. We took leave of the Regent

rather coolly, and followed an individual, who, after crossing a great

many rooms and corridors, ushered us into a sort of closet, which we

might fairly call a prison, as we were not permitted to leave it for any

other place.

There had been prepared for us two couches, which, no doubt, were

infinitely superior to our own beds; nevertheless, we regretted our poor

pallets, whereon we had so long enjoyed a free and independent sleep

throughout our travels in the desert. Lamas and attendants of the Regent

came in great numbers to see us. Those who had gone to bed got up, and

soon we heard, in this vast palace, lately so calm and silent, doors

opened and shut, and the rapid steps of the curious sounding in the

passages. Crowds thronged around us and examined us with insupportable

avidity. In all those eyes staring at us there was neither sympathy nor

ill-will; they simply expressed vapid curiosity. To all these

individuals around us, we represented merely a kind of zoological

phenomenon. Oh, how hard it is to be exposed thus to an indifferent

multitude! When we thought that these troublesome people had

sufficiently stared and whispered, and ought now to be satisfied, we

informed them that we were going to bed, and that we should feel

extremely obliged if they would be kind enough to retire. Everyone

bowed: some of them even were polite enough to put out their tongues at

us; but nobody stirred. It was evident that they had a mind to know how

we should behave on going to bed. This desire seemed to us somewhat

misplaced; but we thought we would submit to it up to a certain point.

Accordingly we knelt down, made the sign of the cross, and recited,

aloud, our evening prayer. As soon as we commenced, the whispering

ceased, and a religious silence prevailed. When the prayer was finished,

we once more invited the crowd to leave us, and, in order to add efficacy

to our words, we extinguished the light. The crowd, thus plunged into

deep darkness, adopted the course of first having a hearty laugh, and

then retiring gropingly. We closed the door of our prison and laid down

to rest.

When stretched on the beds of the First Kalon, we felt much more disposed

to talk than to sleep. We experienced a certain pleasure in

recapitulating the adventures of the day. The feigned merchants who

wanted to purchase our saddles, our appearance before the Regent, the

examination we had undergone by the ambassador, Ki-Chan, our supper at

the expense of the public treasury, our long conversation with the

Regent: all this appeared to us a phantasmagoria. It seemed as though

our whole day had been a long nightmare. Our journey itself, our arrival

at Lha-Ssa, everything seemed incredible. We asked one another whether

it was true, that we, missionaries, Frenchmen, were really in the states

of the Tale-Lama, in the capital of Thibet, sleeping in the very palace

of the Regent. All these events, past and present, clashed in our heads.

The future, especially, appeared to us enveloped in dark, thick clouds.

How was all this to end? Would they say to us, "You are free; go

wherever you please?" Would they keep us in this prison? or would they

strangle us? These reflections were well calculated to chill the heart,

and to cause a head-ache. But trust in God is a grand thing in such

trials! How happy is one in feeling one's-self supported by Providence,

when one is thus left alone, abandoned, and destitute of succour. "Oh,"

said we to each other, "let us be prepared for the worst, relying upon

the protection of our Heavenly Father! Not a single hair will fall from

our heads without his permission."

We went to sleep amid these considerations, but our slumber was light and

disturbed. As soon as dawn appeared, the door of our cell was gently

opened, and the governor of the Katchi entered. He took a seat at our

side, between the two couches, and asked us in kind, affectionate tones,

whether we had spent a good night. He then presented to us a basket of

cakes, made by his family, and some dried fruits from Ladak. We were

deeply touched by this attention, which seemed to announce that we had

met with a sincere and devoted friend.

The governor of the Katchi was thirty-two years old; his face full of

nobleness and majesty, breathed at the same time, a kindness and candour

well calculated to arouse our confidence. His looks, his words, his

deportment, everything about him, seemed to express that he felt a very

lively interest in us. He had come to acquaint us with what would be

done during the day, with reference to us. "In the morning," he said,

"the Thibetian authorities will go with you to your lodgings. They will

put a seal upon all your effects, which will then be brought before the

tribunal, and be examined by the Regent and the Chinese ambassador, in

your presence. If you have no manuscript maps in your baggage you need

fear nothing; you will not be molested in any way. If, on the contrary,

you have any such maps, you would do well to let me know beforehand, as

in this case, we may perhaps find some way to arrange the affair. I am

very intimate with the Regent, (this we had, indeed, observed the night

before during our supper); and it is he himself who directed me to make

to you this confidential communication." He then added, in an under

voice, that all these [Picture: The Governor of Katchi] difficulties were

got up against us by the Chinese, against the will of the Thibetian

government. We answered the governor of Katchi, that we had not a single

manuscript map; and we then gave him, in detail, a statement of all the

articles that were in our trunks. "Since they are to be examined to-day,

you will judge for yourself whether we are people to be believed." The

countenance of the Mussulman brightened. "Your words," he said, "quite

reassure me. None of the articles you have described can at all

compromise you. Maps are feared in this country--extremely feared,

indeed; especially since the affair of a certain Englishman named

Moorcroft, who introduced himself into Lha-Ssa, under the pretence of

being a Cashmerian. After a sojourn there of twelve years, he departed;

but he was murdered on his way to Ladak. Amongst his effects they found

a numerous collection of maps and plans, which he had drawn during his

stay at Lha-Ssa. This circumstance has made the Chinese authorities very

suspicious on this subject. As you do not draw maps, that is all right;

I will now go and tell the Regent what I have heard from you."

When the governor of Katchi had left us, we rose, for we had remained in

bed, without ceremony, during his long visit. After having offered up

our morning prayer, and prepared our hearts to patience and resignation,

we ate the breakfast which had been sent to us by order of the Regent.

It consisted of a plate of rolls stuffed with sugar and minced meat, and

a pot of richly-buttered tea. But we gave the preference to the cakes

and dried fruit, which the governor of Katchi had presented to us.

Three Lama ushers soon came and announced to us the order of the day;

viz., that our luggage was to be inspected. We submitted respectfully to

the orders of the Thibetian authority, and proceeded to our lodgings,

accompanied by a numerous escort all the way. From the palace of the

Regent to our habitation we observed great excitement; they were sweeping

the streets, removing the dirt, and decorating the fronts of the houses

with large strips of poulou, yellow and red. We asked ourselves what all

this meant? for whom were all these demonstrations of honour and respect?

Suddenly we heard behind us loud acclamations, and turning round we saw

the Regent, who was advancing, mounted on a magnificent white charger,

and surrounded by numerous horsemen. We arrived at our lodgings nearly

at the same time with him. We opened the padlock by which the door was

fastened, and requested the Regent to honour us by entering the

apartments of the French missionaries.

Samdadchiemba, whom we had not seen since our audience with the Chinese

ambassador, was there too. He was quite stupified, for he could not

comprehend these proceedings. The servants of the Regent, with whom he

had passed the night, could not give him any information. We said to him

some words of encouragement, giving him to understand that we were not

yet quite on the eve of martyrdom.

The Regent took a seat in the middle of our room on a gilded chair, which

had been brought from the palace for this purpose, and asked whether what

he saw in our room was all we possessed? "Yes; that is all we possess;

neither more nor less. These are all our resources for invading Thibet."

"There is satire in your words," said the Regent; "I never fancied you

such dangerous people. What is that?" he added, pointing to a crucifix

we had fixed against the wall. "Ah, if you really knew what that was,

you would not say that we were not formidable; for by that we design to

conquer China, Tartary, and Thibet." The Regent laughed, for he only saw

a joke in our words, which yet were so real and serious.

A scribe sat down at the feet of the Regent, and made an inventory of our

trunks, clothes, and kitchen implements. A lighted lamp was brought, and

the Regent took from a small purse which hung from his neck, a golden

seal, which was applied to all our baggage. Nothing was omitted; our old

boots, the very pins of our travelling tent, were all daubed with red

wax, and solemnly marked with the seal of the Tale-Lama.

When this long ceremony was completed, the Regent informed us that we

must now proceed to the tribunal. Some porters were sent for, and found

in very brief time. A Lama of the police had only to present himself in

the street and summon, in the name of the law, all the passers by, men,

women, and children, to come into the house immediately and assist the

government. At Lha-Ssa, the system of enforced labour is in a most

prosperous and flourishing state; the Thibetians coming into it with

entire willingness and good grace.

When enough labourers were collected, all our goods were distributed

among them, and the room was completely cleared, and the procession to

the tribunal set out with great pomp. A Thibetian horse soldier, his

drawn sword in hand, and his fusil at his side, opened the procession;

after him came the troop of porters, marching between two lines of Lama

satellites; the Regent, on his white charger, surrounded by a mounted

guard of honour, followed our baggage; and last, behind the Regent,

marched the two poor French missionaries, who had, by way of suite, a no

very agreeable crowd of gapers. Our mien was not particularly imposing.

Led like malefactors, or, at least, like suspected persons, we could only

lower our eyes, and modestly pass through the numerous crowd that

thronged on our way. Such a position was, indeed, very painful and

humiliating; but the remembrance of our holy Saviour, dragged to the

pretorium, through the streets of Jerusalem, was sufficient to mitigate

the bitterness with which we were afflicted. We prayed to him to

sanctify our humiliations by his own, and to accept them in remembrance

of his Passion.

When we arrived at the tribunal, the Chinese ambassador [Picture:

Carrying goods to the Tribunal] attended by his staff, was already in his

place. The Regent addressed him: "You want to examine the effects of

these strangers; here they are; examine them. These men are neither

rich, nor powerful, as you suppose." There was vexation in the tone of

the Regent, and, at bottom, he was naturally enough annoyed at this part

of policeman which he had to play. Ki-Chan asked us if we had no more

than two trunks. "Only two; everything has been brought here; there

remains in our house not a rag, not a bit of paper." "What have you got

in your two trunks?" "Here are the keys; open them, empty them, and

examine them at your pleasure." Ki-Chan blushed, and moved back. His

Chinese delicacy was touched. "Do these trunks belong to me?" he said,

with emotion. "Have I the right to open them? If anything should be

missed afterwards, what would you say?" "You need not be afraid; our

religion forbids us rashly to judge our neighbour." "Open your trunks

yourselves; I want to know what they contain; it is my duty to do so; but

you alone have the right to touch what belongs to you."

We broke the seal of the Tale-Lama, the padlock was removed, and these

two trunks, which had been pierced by all eyes for a long time past, were

at last opened to the general gaze. We took out the contents, one after

another, and displayed them on a large table. First came some French and

Latin volumes, then some Chinese and Tartar books, church linen,

ornaments, sacred vases, rosaries, crosses, medals, and a magnificent

collection of lithographs. All the spectators were lost in contemplation

at this small European museum. They opened large eyes, touched each

other with the elbow, and smacked their tongues in token of admiration.

None of them had ever seen anything so beautiful, so rich, so marvellous.

Everything white they considered silver, everything yellow, gold. The

faces of all brightened up, and they seemed entirely to forget that we

were suspected and dangerous people. The Thibetians put out their

tongues and scratched their ears at us; and the Chinese made us the most

sentimental bows. Our bag of medals, especially, attracted attention,

and it seemed to be anticipated that, before we left the court, we should

make a large distribution of these dazzling gold pieces.

The Regent and Ki-Chan, whose minds were elevated above those of the

vulgar, and who certainly did not covet our treasure, nevertheless forgot

their character as judges. The sight of our beautiful coloured pictures

transported them quite out of themselves. The Regent kept his hands

joined, and preserved a continuous stare with his mouth open, whilst

Ki-Chan, showing off his knowledge, explained how the French were the

most distinguished artists in the world. "At one time," he said, "he

knew, at Peking, a French missionary, who painted portraits that were

quite alarmingly like. He kept his paper concealed in the sleeve of his

robe, took the likeness as it were by stealth, and, in a whiff, all was

done." Ki-Chan asked us if we had not watches, telescopes,

magic-lanterns, etc. etc. We thereupon opened a small box which no one

had hitherto remarked, and which contained a microscope. We adjusted its

various parts, and no one had eyes but for this singular machine, in pure

gold, as they took it to be, and which, certainly, was about to perform

wondrous things. Ki-Chan alone knew what a microscope was. He gave an

explanation of it to the public, with great pretension and vanity. He

then asked us to put some animalculae on the glass. We looked at his

excellency out of the corner of the eye, and then took the microscope to

pieces, joint by joint, and put it in the box. "We thought," said we to

Ki-Chan, with a formal air, "we thought, that we came here to undergo

judgment, and not to play a comedy." "What judgment!" exclaimed he,

abruptly; "we wished to examine your effects, ascertain really who you

were, and that is all." "And the maps: you do not mention them." "Oh,

yes--yes! that is the great point; where are your maps?" "Here they

are;" and we displayed the three maps we had; a map of the world, the two

hemispheres upon the projection of Mercator, and a Chinese empire.

The appearance of these maps seemed to the Regent a clap of thunder; the

poor man changed colour three or four times in the course of a minute, as

if we had shown our death warrant. "It is fortunate for us," said we to

Ki-Chan, "that we have met with you in this country. If, by ill luck,

you had not been here, we should have been utterly unable to convince the

Thibetian authorities that these maps are not our own drawing. But an

instructed man like yourself, conversant with European matters, will at

once see that these maps are not our own work." Ki-Chan was evidently

much flattered by the compliment. "Oh, it is evident," said he, at the

first glance, "that these maps are printed. Look here," said he to the

Regent; "these maps were not drawn by these men; they were printed in the

kingdom of France. You cannot distinguish that, but I have been long

used to objects, the productions of the Western Heaven." These words

produced a magical effect on the Regent. His face became radiant, and he

looked at us with a look of satisfaction, and made a gracious movement

with his head, as much as to say, "It is well; you are honest people."

We could not get off without a little geographical lecture. We yielded

charitably to the wishes of the Regent and the Chinese ambassador. We

indicated with our fingers on the map of Mercator, China, Tartary, and

Thibet, and all the other countries of the globe. The Regent was amazed

at seeing how far we were from our native land, and what a long journey

we had been obliged to make, by land and water, to come and pay him a

visit in the capital of Thibet. He regarded us with astonishment, and

then raised the thumb of his right hand, saying, "You are men like that,"

signifying, in the figurative language of the Thibetians; you are men of

a superlative stamp. After recognising the principal points of Thibet,

the Regent inquired whereabouts was Calcutta? "Here," we said, pointing

to a little round speck on the borders of the sea. "And Lha-Ssa: where

then is Lha-Ssa?" "Here it is." The eyes and finger of the Regent went

from Lha-Ssa to Calcutta, and from Calcutta to Lha-Ssa. "The Pelings of

Calcutta are very near our frontiers," said he, making a grimace, and

shaking his head. "No matter," he added, "here are the Himalaya

mountains."

The course of geography being ended, the maps were folded up again,

placed in their respective cases, and we passed on to religious subjects.

Ki-Chan had long since become acquainted with these matters. When he was

viceroy of the province of Pe-Tche-Ly, he had sufficiently persecuted the

Christians, to have numerous opportunities of making himself familiar

with everything connected with the Catholic worship; and he accordingly

now displayed his knowledge. He explained the images, the sacred vases,

the ornaments. He even informed the company that in the box of holy oils

there was a famous remedy for people at death's door. During all these

explanations the Regent was thoughtful and abstracted; his eyes were

constantly turned towards a large host-iron. These long pincers,

terminating in two large lips, seemed to act powerfully on his

imagination. He gave us an inquiring look, seeming to ask us if this

frightful implement was not something like an infernal machine. He was

only re-assured upon viewing some wafers that we kept in a box, for he

then comprehended the use of this strange object.

The worthy Regent was all joyous and triumphant, when he saw that we had

nothing in our possession calculated to compromise us. "Well," said he

to the Chinese ambassador with a sneer, "what do you think of these men?

What must we do with them? These men are Frenchmen, they are ministers

of the religion of the Lord of Heaven, they are honest men; we must leave

them in peace." These flattering words were received in the saloon with

a murmur of approbation, and the two missionaries, said, from the bottom

of their hearts, _Deo gratias_.

The porters shouldered our luggage, and we returned to our lodging with

undoubtedly greater alacrity and lighter hearts than when we had left it.

The news of our reinstatement soon spread through the town, and the

Thibetian people hastened from all quarters to congratulate us. They

saluted us heartily, and the French name was in every one's mouth.

Thenceforward the white Azaras were entirely forgotten.

When we had refurnished our apartments we gave some Tchang-Ka to the

porters, in order that they might drink our health in a pot of Thibetian

small beer, and appreciate the magnanimity of the French, in not making

people work for nothing.

Every one having gone away, we resumed our accustomed solitude, and

solitude inducing reflection, we discovered two important things. In the

first place, that we had not yet dined, and in the second, that our

horses were no longer in the stable. Whilst we were considering how to

get something quickly cooked, and how to find where our horses were, we

saw at the threshold of our door the governor of the Katchi, who relieved

us from the double embarrassment. This excellent man having foreseen

that our attendance at the court of inquiry would not allow us time to

make our pot boil, came, followed by two servants carrying a basket of

provisions, with an ovation he had prepared for us. "And our horses--can

you give us any information about them? We no longer see them in the

court?" "I was going to tell you about them; they have been since

yesterday evening in the Regent's stables. During your absence they have

felt neither hunger nor thirst. I heard you say you intended to sell

them--is it so?" "Oh, quite so, these animals ruin us; and yet they are

so thin, no one will buy them." "The Regent wants to buy them." "The

Regent!" "Yes, the Regent himself. Do not smile, it is no jest. How

much do you want for them?" "Oh, whatever he likes to give." "Well,

then, your horses are purchased," and so saying, the Cashmerian unrolled

a small packet he had under his arm, and laid upon the table two silver

ingots weighing ten ounces each. "Here," said he, "is the price of your

two horses." We thought our beasts, worn and attenuated as they were,

not worth the money, and we conscientiously said so to the governor of

the Katchi; but it was impossible to modify the transaction which had

been all settled and concluded beforehand. The Regent made out that our

horses, although thin, were of an excellent breed, since they had not

succumbed beneath the fatigues of our long journey. Besides, they had,

in his eyes, a special value, because they had passed through many

countries, and particularly because they had fed on the pastures of

Kounboum, the native place of Tsong-Kaba. Twenty extra ounces of silver

in our low purse was almost a fortune. We could be generous with it; so,

on the spot, we took one of the ingots and placed it on Samdadchiemba's

knees. "This is for you," we said; "you will be able with it to clothe

yourself in holiday dress from head to foot." Samdadchiemba thanked us

coldly and awkwardly; then the muscles of his face became distended, his

nostrils swelled, and his large mouth assumed a smile. At last, he could

not restrain his joy; he rose and made his ingot leap in the air twice or

thrice, crying, "This is a famous day!" And Samdadchiemba was right.

This day, so sadly begun, had been fortunate beyond anything we could

have expected. We had now, at Lha-Ssa, an honourable position, and we

were to be allowed to labour freely in the propagation of the gospel.

The next day was still more lucky for us than its predecessor; putting,

as it were, a climax to our prosperity. In the morning we proceeded,

accompanied by the Cashmerian governor, to the palace of the Regent, to

whom we desired to express our gratitude for the manifestations of

interest with which he had honoured us. We were received with kindness

and cordiality. He told us, in confidence, that the Chinese were jealous

of our being at Lha-Ssa; but that we might count on his protection, and

reside freely in the country, without any one having a right to interfere

with us. "You are very badly lodged," added he; "your room seemed to me

dirty, small, and uncomfortable. I would have strangers like you, men

come from so great a distance, well treated at Lha-Ssa. In your country

of France, do they not treat strangers well?" "They treat them

excellently. Oh, if you could but go there some day, you would see how

our Emperor would receive you." "Strangers are guests; you must leave

your present abode; I have ordered a suitable lodging to be prepared for

you in one of my houses." We accepted this generous offer with grateful

thanks. To be lodged comfortably and free of expense was not a thing for

men in our position to despise; but we appreciated, above all, the

advantage of residing in one of the Regent's own houses. So signal a

favour, such emphatic protection, on the part of the Thibetian

authorities, could not but give us with the inhabitants of Lha-Ssa great

moral influence, and facilitate our apostolic mission.

On leaving the palace, we proceeded, without loss of time, to visit the

house which had been assigned to us; it was superb--charming. The same

evening we effected our removal, and took possession of our new dwelling.

Our first care was to erect in our house a small chapel. We selected the

largest and best apartment; we papered it as neatly as possible, and we

then adorned it with holy images. Oh! how our hearts flowed with joy,

when we were at length allowed to pray publicly at the foot of the cross,

in the very heart of the capital of Buddhism, which, perhaps, had never

before beheld the sign of our redemption. What a comfort to us to be

able, at length, to announce the words of life to the ears of these poor

people, sitting for so many ages in the shadow of death. This little

chapel was certainly poor, but it was to our minds that hundredfold which

God has promised to those who renounce all things for his service. Our

hearts were so full, that we thought we had cheaply bought the happiness

we now enjoyed, by two years of suffering and tribulation in the desert.

Every one at Lha-Ssa visited the chapel of the French Lamas; many, after

satisfying themselves with asking us a few explanations as to the meaning

of the images they beheld, went away, putting off till some other time

further instruction in the holy doctrine of Jehovah; but several felt

inwardly struck, and seemed to attach a great importance to the study of

the truths we had come to announce. Every day they came to us regularly,

they read with attention the summary of the Christian religion, which we

had composed at the Lamasery of Kounboum, and entreated us to tell them

the "true prayers."

The Thibetians were not the only persons who seemed zealous to study our

holy religion. Among the Chinese, the secretaries of the ambassador

Ki-Chan often came to visit us, to hear about the great doctrine of the

west; one of them, to whom we lent some works written in

Tartaro-Mantchou, was convinced of the truth of Christianity and of the

necessity of embracing it, but he had not courage enough to make an open

profession of faith, whilst he was attached to the embassy; he wished to

wait until he should be free to return to his country. God grant that

his good intentions may not vanish.

A physician, a native of the province of Yun-Nan, displayed more courage.

This young man, since his arrival at Lha-Ssa, had led so strange a life,

that everyone called him the Chinese hermit. He never went out, except

to visit his patients, and ordinarily he only visited the poor. The

wealthy in vain solicited his attendance; he disdained to notice their

invitations, unless compelled by necessity to obtain some aid, for he

never took anything from the poor, to whose service he had devoted

himself. The time not absorbed in visiting his patients, he consecrated

to study; he passed, indeed, the greater part of the night over his

books. He slept little, and only took, throughout the day, one single

meal of barley-meal, never eating meat. You needed, indeed, only to see

him to be convinced that he led a hard and self-denying life; his face

was extremely pale and thin, and although he was not more than thirty

years old, his hair was almost entirely white.

One day, he paid us a visit while we were repeating our breviary in our

little chapel; he stopped short a few steps from the door, and awaited in

grave silence. A large coloured image, representing the Crucifixion, had

no doubt fixed his attention; for, as soon as we had finished our

prayers, he asked us abruptly and without staying to make the usual

salutations, to explain to him the meaning of that image. When we had

answered his question, he crossed his arms upon his chest, and without

uttering a single word, remained motionless, his eyes fixed upon the

image of the Crucifixion; he retained this position for nearly

half-an-hour; at length his eyes were filled with tears. He extended his

arms towards the Christ, fell on his knees, struck the earth thrice with

his forehead, and rose, exclaiming, "That is the only Buddha that men

ought to worship." He then turned to us, and after making a profound

bow, added, "You are my masters, accept me as your disciple."

All this surprised us greatly. We could not help believing that a

powerful impulse of grace had moved his heart. We briefly explained to

him the principal points of the Christian religion, and to all we told

him, he simply replied with an expression of faith truly astonishing, "I

believe!" We presented to him a small crucifix of gilt copper, and asked

him if he would accept it. His only answer was an earnest inclination of

the head. As soon as he had the crucifix in his hand, he solicited us to

give him a cord, and he immediately hung the cross round his neck; he

then asked what prayer he ought to recite before the cross? "We will

lend you," we said, "some Chinese books, wherein you will find

explanations of the doctrine, and numerous forms of prayer." "My

masters, that is well; but I wish to have a short and easy prayer, which

I can learn immediately, and repeat often and everywhere." We taught him

to say, "Jesus, Saviour of the world, have mercy on me." For fear of

forgetting these words, he wrote them on a piece of paper, which he

placed in a small purse, suspended from his girdle; he then went away,

assuring us that the recollection of this day would never be effaced from

his memory.

This young physician applied himself with ardour to learn the truths of

the Christian religion; but the most remarkable circumstance was, that he

took no pains to hide the faith he had in his heart. When he came to

visit us, or when we met him in the streets, he always had the crucifix

glittering on his breast, and he never failed to approach us with the

words, "Jesus, Saviour of the world, have mercy on me." It was the form

of saluting us which he had adopted.

Whilst we were making efforts to spread the evangelical seed amongst the

population of Lha-Ssa, we did not neglect the endeavour to sow the divine

seed also in the very palace of the Regent, and this not without the hope

of reaping there one day a precious harvest. Since our trial, so to

speak, our intercourse with the Regent had become frequent, and even

intimate. Almost every evening, when he had finished his labours of

ministry, he invited us to partake with him his Thibetian repast, to

which he always added for ourselves some dishes cooked in the Chinese

fashion. Our conversations generally extended far into the night.

The Regent was a man of extraordinary capacity; of humble extraction, he

had raised himself gradually, and by his own merits, to the dignity of

First Kalon. This had occurred three years before. Up to that time he

had always fulfilled arduous and laborious [Picture: The Regent of

Lha-Ssa] functions; he had frequently traversed, in all directions, the

immense regions of Thibet, either to make war or to negotiate with the

neighbouring states, or to inspect the conduct of the Houtouktou

governors of the various provinces. So active, so busy a life, so

apparently incompatible with study, had not prevented him from acquiring

a profound knowledge of Lamanesque works.

Everyone concurred in saying that the knowledge of the most renowned

Lamas was inferior to that of the Regent. The facility with which he

conducted public business was matter of especial admiration. One day we

were with him, when they brought him a great many rolls of paper,

dispatches from the provinces; a sort of secretary unrolled them one

after the other, and gave them to him to read, bending on one knee. The

Regent hastily ran his eye over them, without interrupting the

conversation with us. As soon as he had gathered the contents of a

dispatch, he took his bamboo stile, and wrote his orders at the bottom of

the roll, and thus transacted all his affairs with promptitude, and as if

for amusement. We are not competent to judge of the literary merit that

was attributed to the First Kalon. We can only say that we never saw

Thibetian writing so beautiful as his.

The Regent was very fond of engaging in religious discussions, and they

most frequently formed the subject of our conversations. At the

commencement, he said to us these remarkable words:--"All your long

journeys you have undertaken solely with a religious object. You are

quite right, for religion is the thing most essential to man. I see that

the French and the Thibetians have the same view on that subject. We do

not at all resemble the Chinese, who hold the soul of no account; yet

your religion is not the same as ours. It is important we should

ascertain which is the true one. Let us, then, examine both carefully

and sincerely; if yours is right, we will adopt it; how could we refuse

to do so? If, on the contrary, ours is the true religion, I believe you

will have the good sense to follow it." This arrangement seemed to us

excellent; we could not at the time desire better.

We commenced with Christianity. The Regent, always amiable and polished

in his conversation with us, said that, as we were his guests, our belief

ought to have the honour of priority. We successively reviewed the

dogmatical and moral truths. To our great astonishment, the Regent did

not seem surprised at anything we said. "Your religion," he incessantly

repeated, "is conformable with ours; the truths are the same: we only

differ in the explanations. Of what you have seen and heard in Tartary

and Thibet, there is, doubtless, much to blame; but you must not forget

that the numerous errors and superstitions you may have observed, were

introduced by ignorant Lamas, and that they are rejected by well-informed

Buddhists." He only admitted, between him and us, two points of

difference--the origin of the world, and the transmigration of souls.

The belief of the Regent, though it here and there seemed to approximate

to the Catholic doctrine, nevertheless resulted in a vast pantheism; but

he affirmed that we also arrived at the same result, and he did his best

to convince us of this.

The Thibetian language, essentially religious and mystic, conveys with

much clearness and precision all the ideas respecting the human soul and

divinity. Unfortunately, we were not sufficiently versed in this

language, and were compelled, in our conversations with the Regent, to

have recourse to the Cashmerian governor to interpret for us; but, as he

himself was not very skilful in rendering metaphysical ideas into

Chinese, it was often difficult to understand each other. One day, the

Regent said to us, "The truth is clear in itself, but if you envelope it

in obscure words, one cannot perceive it. So long as we are obliged to

communicate in Chinese, it will be impossible to make ourselves

intelligible to each other. We shall never be able to discuss the matter

to advantage, till you speak the Thibetian language fluently." We quite

concurred in the justice of this observation. We replied to the Regent,

that the study of the Thibetian tongue was a great object of solicitude

with us, and that we laboured hard at it every day. "If you like," said

he, "I will facilitate your acquisition of it." And thereupon he called

a servant and said to him a few words which we did not understand.

A youth, elegantly dressed, immediately came, and saluted us with much

grace. "This is my nephew," said the Regent; "I present him to you as at

once tutor and pupil; he will pass the whole day with you, and you will

thus have the opportunity of practising the Thibetian language; in

return, you will give him some lessons in Chinese and Mantchou." We

gratefully adopted this proposition, and were enabled, by this means, to

make rapid progress in the language of the country. The Regent was very

fond of talking about France, during our long visits; he asked us a

number of questions about the manners, customs, and productions of our

country. All we told him of the steam-boats, the railways, the balloons,

gas, telegraphs, the daguerrotype, our industrial productions, completely

amazed him, and gave him an immense idea of the grandeur and power of

France. One day when we were talking to him of observatories and

astronomical instruments, he asked if we would allow him to examine

closely the strange and curious machine which we kept in a box: he meant

the microscope. As we were in a better humour and infinitely more

amiable than when the officers inspected our property, we readily

satisfied the curiosity of the Regent. One of us ran to our residence,

and returned immediately with the wonderful instrument. While adjusting,

we tried to give our auditor, as well as we could, some notions of

optics, but seeing that the theory did not excite much enthusiasm, we

proceeded at once to the practice. We asked if one of the company would

be so good as to procure us a louse. The article was easier to find than

a butterfly. A noble Lama, secretary to his excellency the First Kalon,

had merely to put his hand under his silk dress to his armpit, and an

extremely vigorous louse was at our disposition. We seized it by the

sides with our nippers, but the Lama forthwith opposed this proceeding,

and insisted upon putting a stop to the experiment, on the ground that we

were going to cause the death of a living being. "Do not be afraid," we

said, "your louse is only taken by the skin; besides, he seems strong

enough to get over the pressure, even were it greater." The Regent who,

as we have before mentioned, had religious theories superior to those of

the common herd, told the Lama to be silent, and to allow us to proceed.

We continued the experiment, and fixed in the glass the poor little

beast, that struggled, with all its might, at the extremity of the

nippers. We then requested the Regent to apply his right eye, shutting

his left, to the glass at the top of the machine. "Tsong-Kaba!"

exclaimed the Regent, "the louse is as big as a rat." After looking at

it for a moment, he raised his head and hid his face with both hands,

saying, it was horrible to look at. He tried to dissuade the others from

examining it; but his influence failed to make any impression. Everyone,

in his turn, looked through the microscope, and started back with cries

of horror. The Lama secretary, seeing that his little animal scarcely

moved, advanced a claim in its favour. We removed the nippers, and let

the louse fall into the hands of its owner. But, alas! the poor victim

did not move. The Regent said, laughingly, to his secretary, "I think

your louse is unwell; go and see if you can get it to take some physic,

otherwise it will not recover."

No one wishing to see other living creatures, we continued the

entertainment, by passing a small collection of microscopical pictures

before the eyes of the spectators. Every one was charmed, and exclaimed

with admiration, "What prodigious capacity the French have!" The Regent

told us, "Your railways and your aerial ships no longer astonish me so

much; men who can invent such a machine as that, are capable of

anything."

The First Kalon was so delighted with the productions of our country,

that he took a fancy to study the French language. One evening, we

brought him, in accordance with his wish, a French alphabet, each letter

of which had the pronunciation written beneath it in Thibetian

characters. He ran his eye over it, and when we proposed to give him

some explanations, he replied, that they were not necessary, as what we

had written was quite clear.

The next day, as soon as we appeared in his presence, he asked us what

was the name of our emperor. "Our emperor is called Louis Philippe."

"Louis Philippe! Louis Philippe! very well." He then took his style, and

began to write. An instant afterwards he gave us a piece of paper, on

which was written, in very well formed characters, LOUY-FELIPE.

During the brief period of our prosperity at Lha-Ssa, we had also

tolerably intimate communication with the Chinese ambassador Ki-Chan. He

sent for us twice or thrice, to talk politics, or, as the Chinese phrase

it, to speak idle words. We were much surprised to find him so

intimately acquainted with the affairs of Europe. He spoke a good deal

about the English and Queen Victoria. "It appears," said he, "that this

woman has great abilities; but her husband, in my opinion, plays a very

ridiculous part; she does not let him meddle with anything. She laid out

for him a magnificent garden full of fruit-trees and flowers of all

sorts, and there he is always shut up, passing his time walking about.

They say that in Europe there are other countries where women rule. Is

it so? Are their husbands also shut up in gardens? Have you in the

kingdom of France any such usage?" "No, in France the women are in the

gardens, and the men in the state." "That is right, otherwise all is

disorder."

[Picture: Portrait of Ki-Chan]

Ki-Chan inquired about Palmerston; and whether he was still at the head

of foreign affairs. "And Ilu, {192} what has become of him? Do you know

him?" "He was recalled; your fall involved his." "That is a pity. Ilu

had an excellent heart, but he was devoid of prompt resolution. Has he

been put to death or banished?" "Neither the one nor the other. In

Europe they do not proceed to such extremities as you at Peking." "Ay,

truly; your Mandarins are more fortunate than we: your government is

better than ours: our Emperor cannot know everything, and yet he judges

everything, and no one may presume to object. Our Emperor tells us, That

is white; we prostrate ourselves and answer, Yes, that is white; he then

points to the same thing, and says, That is black; we again prostrate

ourselves and reply, Yes, that is black." "But if you were to say that a

thing cannot be at once white and black?" "The Emperor would perhaps say

to a person who exhibited such courage, You are right; but, at the same

time, he would have him strangled or beheaded. Oh, we have not like you

a general assembly of the chiefs (Tchoung-Teou-Y; so Ki-Chan designated

the Chamber of Deputies). If your Emperor wished to act contrary to

justice, your Tchoung-Teou-Y would be there to stop him."

Ki-Chan related to us the strange manner in which the great affair of the

English in 1839 had been managed at Peking. The Emperor convoked the

eight Tchoung-Tang who constituted his privy council, and spoke to them

of the events that had occurred in the south. He told them that some

adventurers from the western seas had manifested themselves rebellious

and insubordinate; that they must be taken and punished severely, in

order to give an example to all who might be tempted to imitate their

misconduct. After thus stating his opinion, the Emperor asked the advice

of his council. The four Mantchou Tchoung-Tang prostrated themselves and

said, "Tche, tche, tche, Tchou-Dze-Ti, Fan-Fou." (Yes, yes, yes; such is

the command of the master.) The four Chinese Tchoung-Tang prostrated

themselves in their turn, and said, "Che, che, che, Hoang-Chang-Ti,

Tien-Ngen." (Yes, yes, yes; it is the celestial benefit of the Emperor.)

After this, nothing further had to be said, and the council was

dismissed. This anecdote is perfectly authentic, for Ki-Chan is one of

the eight Tchoung-Tang of the empire. He added that, for his part, he

was persuaded that the Chinese were incapable of contending against the

Europeans, unless they altered their weapons and changed their old

habits; but that he should take care not to say so to the Emperor,

because, besides that the suggestion would be futile in itself, it would

perhaps cost him his life.

Our frequent conferences with the Chinese ambassador, the Regent, and the

Cashmerian governor, contributed not a little to secure for us the

confidence and consideration of the inhabitants of Lha-Ssa. On seeing

the number of those who came to visit us, and to be instructed in our

holy religion, augment from day to day, we felt our hopes enlarge and our

courage increase. Yet, amidst these consolations, one thought constantly

vexed us; it was that we could not present to the Thibetians the

inspiring spectacle of the pompous and touching festivals of Catholicism.

We were convinced that the beauty of our ceremonies would have a powerful

influence over the minds of these people, so eager after all that

appertains to external worship.

The Thibetians, as we have already observed, are eminently religious;

but, with the exception of a few contemplative Lamas, who withdraw to the

summits of mountains and pass their lives in the hollows of rocks, they

are very little disposed to mysticism. Instead of confining their

devotion within their inner hearts, they like, on the contrary, display

by outward acts; and accordingly pilgrimages, noisy ceremonies in the

Lamaseries, prostrations on the tops of their houses, are practices

extremely to their taste. They always have in their hands the Buddhist

rosary, turning and twisting it, and incessantly murmur prayers, even

when they are engaged in business.

There exists at Lha-Ssa a very touching custom, and which we felt a sort

of jealousy at finding among infidels. In the evening, just as the day

is verging on its decline, all the Thibetians stay business, and meet

together, men, women and children, according to their sex and age, in the

principal parts of the town, and in the public squares. As soon as

groups are formed, everyone kneels down, and they begin slowly and in

undertones to chant prayers.

The religious concerts produced by these numerous assemblages create

throughout the town an immense solemn harmony, which operates forcibly on

the soul. The first time we witnessed this spectacle, we could not help

drawing a painful comparison between this pagan town, where all prayed

together, and the cities of Europe, where people would blush to make the

sign of the cross in public. The prayer which the Thibetians chant in

these evening assemblies, varies according to the seasons of the year;

that, on the contrary, which they repeat on their rosary, is always the

same and only consists of six syllables--_Om mani padme houm_. This

formula, which the Buddhists call, by abbreviation, the mani, is not only

in everyone's mouth, but you see it written everywhere about, in the

streets, in the squares, and in houses. On all the flags that float

above the doors, or from the summit of the public edifices, there is

always a mani printed in Landza, Tartar, and Thibetian characters.

Certain rich and zealous Buddhists maintain, at their own expense,

companies of Lama sculptors, whose business it is to diffuse the mani.

These singular missionaries travel, chisel and mallet in hand, over hill,

dale, and desert, engraving the sacred formula upon the stones and rocks.

According to the opinion of the celebrated orientalist Klaproth, "Om mani

padme houm" is merely the Thibetian transcription of a Sanscrit formula

brought from India to Thibet. Towards the middle of the seventh century

of our era, the famous Hindoo Tonmi-Sambhodha introduced writing into

Thibet; but as the Landza alphabet, which he had at first adopted, seemed

to King Srong-Bdzan-Gombo too complex and too difficult to learn, he

invited the learned personage to draw up an easier writing, better

adapted to the Thibetian tongue. Accordingly, Tonmi-Sambhodha shut

himself up for awhile, and composed the Thibetian writing now in use, and

which is merely a modification of Sanscrit characters. He also initiated

the king into the mysteries of Buddhism, and communicated to him the

sacred formula "Om mani padme houm," which spread rapidly through all the

countries of Thibet and Mongolia.

This formula has, in the Sanscrit language, a distinct and complete

meaning, which cannot be traced in the Thibetian idiom. Om is, among the

Hindoos, the mystic name of the Divinity, with which all their prayers

begin. It is composed of A, the name of Vishnu; of O, that of Siva; and

of M, that of Brahma. This mystic particle is also equivalent to the

interjection O, and expresses a profound religious conviction; it is, as

it were, a formula of the act of faith; mani signifies a gem, a precious

thing; padma, the lotus; padme, the vocative of the same word. Lastly,

houm is a particle expressing a wish, a desire, and is equivalent to our

Amen. The literal sense, then, of this phrase is this:

Om mani padme houm.

O the gem in the lotus, Amen.

The Buddhists of Thibet and Mongolia have not been content with this

clear and precise meaning, and have tortured their imaginations in their

endeavours to find a mystic interpretation of each of the six syllables

composing the sentence.

They have written an infinity of voluminous books, wherein they have

piled one extravagance on another, to explain their famous mani. The

Lamas are wont to say that the doctrine contained in these marvellous

words is immense, and that the whole life of a man is insufficient to

measure its breadth and depth. We were anxious to know what the Regent

thought of this formula. This is what he said on the subject: "Living

beings, in Thibetian semdchan, and in Mongol amitan, are divided into six

classes--angels, demons, men, quadrupeds, birds, and reptiles. {195}

These six classes of living beings correspond to the six syllables of the

formula 'Om mani padme houm.' Living beings, by continual

transformations, and according to their merit or demerit, pass about in

these six classes until they have attained the apex of perfection, when

they are absorbed and lost in the grand essence of Buddha; that is to

say, in the eternal and universal soul, whence emanate all souls, and

wherein all souls, after their temporary evolutions, are destined to meet

and become fused.

"Living beings have, according to the class to which they belong,

particular means of sanctifying themselves, of rising to a superior

class, of obtaining perfection, and arriving, in process of time, at the

period of their absorption. Men who repeat very frequently and devotedly

'Om mani padme houm,' escape falling, after death, into the six classes

of animate creatures corresponding to the six syllables of the formula,

and obtain the plenitude of being by their absorption into the eternal

and universal soul of Buddha."

We know not whether this explanation, which was given to us by the Regent

himself, is generally adopted by the learned Buddhists of Thibet and

Mongolia. We may, however, observe, as it appears to us, that it bears

some analogy with the literal meaning: Oh, the gem in the lotus, Amen.

The gem being the emblem of perfection, and the lotus of Buddha, it may

perhaps be considered that these words express the desire to acquire

perfection in order to be united with Buddha, to be absorbed in the

universal soul. The symbolic formula, Oh, the gem in the lotus, Amen,

might then be paraphrased thus: Oh, may I obtain perfection, and be

absorbed in Buddha, Amen.

According to the explanation of the Regent, the mani would be, as it

were, the summary of a vast pantheism, the basis of the whole belief of

the Buddhists. The learned Lamas say that Buddha is the necessary, the

independent Being, the Beginning and End of all things. The earth, the

stars, mankind, everything that exists is a partial and temporal

manifestation of Buddha. Everything was created by Buddha; in this

sense, that everything proceeds from him, as light proceeds from the sun.

All creatures sprung from Buddha, have had a beginning, and will have an

end; but in the same way that they have necessarily sprung from the

universal essence, they will necessarily return to it. It is as the

rivers and the torrents produced by the waters of the sea, and which,

after a course, more or less long, proceed again to lose themselves in

its immensity. So Buddha is eternal; his manifestations also are

eternal; but in this sense, that there have been manifestations, and that

there always will be manifestations, though taken separately, they have a

beginning and an end.

Without inquiring too nicely whether this agrees or not with what

precedes, the Buddhists admit, besides, an unlimited number of divine

incarnations. They say that Buddha assumes a human body, and comes to

dwell among men, in order to aid them in acquiring perfection, and to

facilitate for them their reunion with the universal soul. These Living

Buddhas constitute the numerous class of Chaberons, whom we have

frequently noticed before. The most celebrated Living Buddhas are--at

Lha-Ssa, the Tale-Lama; at Djachi-Loumbo, the Bandchan-Remboutchi; at the

Grand Kouren, the Guison-Tamba; at Peking, the Tchang-Kia-Fo, a sort of

grand almoner of the imperial court; and in the country of the Ssamba, at

the foot of the Himalaya mountains, the Sa-Dcha-Fo. This last has, they

say, a somewhat singular mission. He prays night and day, in order to

get the snow to fall continuously on the summit of the Himalaya; for,

according to a Thibetian tradition, there exists behind these lofty

mountains a savage and cruel people, who only await the subsidence of the

snow to come over and massacre the Thibetian tribes, and to take

possession of the country.

Although all the Chaberons are, without distinction, Living Buddhas,

there is, nevertheless, among them, a hierarchy, of which the Tale-Lama

is the head. All the rest acknowledge, or ought to acknowledge, his

supremacy. The present Tale-Lama, as we have said, is a child of nine

years old, and he has now for six years occupied the palace of the

Buddha-La. He is a Si-Fan by birth, and was taken from a poor and

obscure family of the principality of Ming-Tchen-Tou-Sse.

When the Tale-Lama dies, or to speak Buddhickly, when he has laid aside

his human envelope, they proceed to the election of his successor, in the

following manner: Prayers are directed to be offered up, and fasts to be

performed in all the Lamaseries. The inhabitants of Lha-Ssa especially,

as being the most interested in the affair, redouble their zeal and

devotion. Every one goes a pilgrimage round the Buddha-La and the "City

of Spirits." The Tchu-Kors are perpetually turning in everybody's hands,

the sacred formula of the mani re-echoes day and night, in all the

streets of the town, and perfumes are burnt in profusion everywhere.

Those who think they possess the Tale-Lama in their family, give

information of the belief to the authorities of Lha-Ssa, in order that

there may be established, in the children so indicated, their quality of

Chaberons. In order to be able to proceed to the election of the

Tale-Lama, there must be discovered three Chaberons, authentically

recognised as such. The candidates come to Lha-Ssa, and the Houtouktous

of the Lamanesque states meet in assembly. They shut themselves up in a

temple of the Buddha-La, and pass six days in retirement, fasting and

praying. On the seventh day, they take a golden urn, containing three

fish, likewise of gold, upon which are engraved the names of the three

little candidates for the functions of the divinity of the Buddha-La.

They shake the urn, the eldest of the Houtouktous draws out a fish, and

the child whose name is thus designated by lot is immediately proclaimed

Tale-Lama. He is then conducted, in great pomp, to the street of the

City of Spirits, every one devoutly prostrating himself on his passage,

and is placed in his sanctuary.

The two Chaberons in swaddling clothes, who have contested for the place

of Tale-Lama, are carried back by their nurses to their respective

families; but to compensate them for not having succeeded, government

makes them a present of 500 ounces of silver.

The Tale-Lama is venerated by the Thibetians and the Mongols like a

divinity. The influence he exercises over the Buddhist population is

truly astonishing; but still it is going too far to say that his

excrements are respectfully collected, and made into amulets which

devotees enclose in pouches and carry round their necks. It is equally

untrue that the Tale-Lama has his arms and head encircled with serpents,

in order to strike the imagination of his worshippers. These assertions,

which we read in some geographies, are entirely without foundation.

During our stay at Lha-Ssa, we asked a good many questions on this point,

and every one laughed in our faces. Unless it could be made out that,

from the Regent to our argol merchant, all conspired to hide the truth

from us, it must be admitted that the narratives, which have given

circulation to such fables, were written with but very little caution.

It was not possible for us to get a sight of the Tale-Lama; not that

there is any great difficulty made in admitting the curious, or devotees,

to see him, but we were prevented by a rather singular circumstance. The

Regent had promised to take us to the Buddha-La, and we were upon the

point of fulfilling this notable visit, when all of a sudden an alarm was

started that we should give the Tale-Lama the small-pox. This malady

had, in fact, just manifested itself at Lha-Ssa, and the people declared,

that it had been brought from Peking, by the great caravan which arrived

a few days before. As we had formed part of that caravan, we were asked

whether it would not be better to postpone our visit, in order that we

might not expose the Tale-Lama to the risk of catching the disease. The

proposition was too reasonable to admit of our making any objection.

The fear which the Thibetians have of the small-pox is something

inconceivable. They never mention its name even, without a sort of

stupor, as though they were speaking of the greatest scourge that could

by possibility desolate mankind. And, indeed, there is no year in which

this malady does not make fearful ravages at Lha-Ssa, and the only remedy

which has hitherto suggested itself to the government as a preservative

for the population against this fearful epidemic, is to proscribe the

wretched families who are seized with it. As soon as the small-pox has

declared itself in a house, all the inhabitants must dislodge, and

repair, whether they will or not, far from the city to the summits of the

mountains, or the depths of the valleys. No one may hold any

communication whatever with the poor wretches, who soon die of hunger and

privation, or become the prey of wild beasts. We did not fail to make

the Regent acquainted with the precious means used by the European

nations to preserve themselves from the disorder; and one of the chief

circumstances, which procured for us the good-will and protection of the

Regent, was his hope that we might one day introduce vaccination into

Thibet. The missionary who should be fortunate enough to endow the

Thibetians with so invaluable a blessing, would assuredly acquire over

their minds an influence capable of competing with that of the Tale-Lama

itself. The introduction of vaccination into Thibet by the missionaries

would, not improbably, be the signal of the downfall of Lamanism, and of

the establishment of the Christian religion among these infidel tribes.

People afflicted with the itch and leprosy, are numerous at Lha-Ssa.

These cutaneous diseases are engendered by the want of cleanliness, more

peculiarly prevalent among the lower classes of the population. Cases of

hydrophobia are not unfrequent among the Thibetians; and one is only

surprised that this horrible malady does not commit greater ravages, when

one bears in mind the terrible multitudes of gaunt, famishing dogs that

are always prowling about the streets of Lha-Ssa. These animals, in

fact, are so numerous in that city, that the Chinese contemptuously say,

that the three great products of the capital of Thibet, are Lamas, women,

and dogs--Lama, Ya-Teou, Keou.

This marvellous infinitude of dogs arises from the extreme respect which

the Thibetians have for these animals, and the use to which they apply

them in burying the dead. There are four different species of sepulture

practised in Thibet; the first, combustion; the second, immersion in the

rivers and lakes; the third, exposure on the summit of mountains; and the

fourth, which is considered the most complimentary of all, consists in

cutting the dead body in pieces, and giving these to be eaten by the

dogs. The last method is by far the most popular. The poor have only as

their mausoleum the common vagabond dogs of the locality; but the more

distinguished defunct are treated with greater ceremony. In all the

Lamaseries, a number of dogs are kept _ad hoc_, and within them the rich

Thibetians are buried. {200}

[Picture: Chinese and Tartar female Head-dresses]

[Picture: Tibetian Theatre]