robe him in different vestments, combinations of yellow and red, and change his caps.  The service always finishes at the solemn moment when the Living Buddha with the tiara on his head pronounces the pontifical blessing upon the congregation, turning his face to all four cardinal points of the compass and finally stretching out his hands toward the northwest, that is, to Europe, whither in the belief of the Yellow Faith must travel the teachings of the wise Buddha.

After earnest prayers or long temple services the Pontiff seems very deeply shaken and often calls his secretaries and dictates his visions and prophecies, always very complicated and unaccompanied by his deductions.

Sometimes with the words “Their souls are communicating,” he puts on his white robes and goes to pray in his shrine.  Then all the gates of the palace are shut and all the Lamas are sunk in solemn, mystic fear; all are praying, telling their rosaries and whispering the orison:  “Om!  Mani padme Hung!” or turning the prayer wheels with their prayers or exorcisings; the fortune tellers read their horoscopes; the clairvoyants write out their visions; while Marambas search the ancient books for explanations of the words of the Living Buddha.

CHAPTER XLI

THE DUST OF CENTURIES

Have you ever seen the dusty cobwebs and the mould in the cellars of some ancient castle in Italy, France or England?  This is the dust of centuries.  Perhaps it touched the faces, helmets and swords of a Roman Augustus, St. Louis, the Inquisitor, Galileo or King Richard.  Your heart is involuntarily contracted and you feel a respect for these witnesses of elapsed ages.  This same impression came to me in Ta Kure, perhaps more deep, more realistic.  Here life flows on almost as it flowed eight centuries ago; here man lives only in the past; and the contemporary only complicates and prevents the normal life.

“Today is a great day,” the Living Buddha once said to me, “the day of the victory of Buddhism over all other religions.  It was a long time ago—­on this day Kublai Khan called to him the Lamas of all religions and ordered them to state to him how and what they believed.  They praised their Gods and their Hutuktus.  Discussions and quarrels began.  Only one Lama remained silent.  At last he mockingly smiled and said: 

“’Great Emperor!  Order each to prove the power of his Gods by the performance of a miracle and afterwards judge and choose.’

“Kublai Khan so ordered all the Lamas to show him a miracle but all were silent, confused and powerless before him.

“‘Now,’ said the Emperor, addressing the Lama who had tendered this suggestion, ‘now you must prove the power of your Gods!’

“The Lama looked long and silently at the Emperor, turned and gazed at the whole assembly and then quietly stretched out his hand toward them.  At this instant the golden goblet of the Emperor raised itself from the table and tipped before the lips of the Khan without a visible hand supporting it.  The Emperor felt the delight of a fragrant wine.  All were struck with astonishment and the Emperor spoke: