First, to speak of the nationalities of the aspirants; the students in the three great colleges are not solely natives of Tibet; they comprise Mongols proper, and also Khams, who belong to a somewhat different race. In fact it is customary to place Mongols first in point of numbers, then Tibetans, and last of all Khams. These three groups of students are as distinct in their characteristics as they are in their nationalities. Tibetans, generally speaking, are a very quiet, courteous, and intelligent set of students, but are not at all inclined to be diligent—indeed they are as a rule as lazy as they can be. The fact that they are very dirty in their habits seems to come from this their national weakness of being extremely and eternally idle. During winter days, for instance, a Tibetan bonze who possesses the ordinary means of living will simply do no work, beyond attending to the routine of chanting the sacred text in the service-hall, and making trips to the monastery kitchen for his ration of tea. When the weather is fine he spends all his leisure hours basking in the warm sun and squatting naked in front of his cell. Nothing can be more significant of his instinctive indolence than the sight of him as he sits dozing there the whole day long, putting on his head to dry a waste scrap of some woollen stuff, with which he occasionally blows his nose. Such behavior, excusable only in an old or decrepit person, is nothing unusual in many of the young Tibetan priests. How lazy and sluggish the average Tibetans are, it is almost beyond the power of Westerners to imagine.

Not so with the Mongols: one never sees them enjoying themselves in such an indolent fashion. They study very hard and always take a very active part in the catechetical exercises, principally because they are alive to the purpose for which they have come so far from their home and country. Four hundred out of the five hundred Mongols are generally fine students; while the ratio has to be inverted in the case of Tibetans, four hundred and fifty out of five hundred of whom are but trash. In consequence of this, the bulk of the “students militant” or warrior-priests of whom I have already spoken are Tibetans, Khams and Mongols being seldom found among them. Mongols are studious and progressive, but one common fault with them is that they are very quick-tempered, so that the slightest thing causes them to flare up in tremendous rage. Being always conscious of the fact that they are the most assiduous of the students, and that the largest number of the winners of the doctor’s degree always come from amongst them, they are very proud and uppish. This Mongolian pride makes most Mongols, even those that try to be calm and well-balanced, to be pitied for their narrow-mindedness and petulance, in spite of all their other numerous good qualities. A Mongol has it in him to become a great leader like Genghis Khan; but the career of that great conqueror was but a meteoric burst of short-lived splendor, and, like him, the Mongols as a nation seem to be incapable of consolidating their national greatness on anything like a permanent basis, or of carrying out any schemes calculated to secure the permanent progress and improvement of their country.

The Khams, on the other hand, are infinitely superior in this respect both to the Mongols and the Tibetans, and this in spite of the fact that their country is generally supposed to be no better than a den of thieves and robbers. A Kham is excitable, but he does not lose his temper like a Mongol: indeed, he can be admirably patient and persevering when he wills. In point of physique, too, he is far ahead as a rule of both the others. The Khams are chivalrous men, blunt and outspoken, and averse to flattery. My observations among the students of Sera lead me to infer that more open-hearted, unaffected students are to be found among the Khams than among any other of the nationalities represented there. Mongols will occasionally demean themselves by fawning upon others in order to gain some object dear to their hearts, but the worst sinners in this respect are the Tibetans—so much so that the Khams, unless they are thoroughly Tibetanised Khams, are unwilling to enter into friendship with them. It is said to the honor of the Khams that even their robbers are honorable and will often give a helping hand to the poor and weak, and rescue those who stand in imminent peril. The Kham women and children, as a rule, share in the apathetic appearance of the men. They are often very unbecomingly dressed and have none of the attractiveness of the Tibetan women, who, like their husbands, fathers, and brothers, are generally well-spoken and affable in outward demeanor, however full of thorns and brambles their innermost hearts may be.

I have been able to give here only a brief and cursory notice of some of the characteristic features of the principal tribes that inhabit these unfrequented regions of Central Asia, with a few of the most essential of the points of difference between them. I might carry my subdivision much further, and speak of the Khams as Mankhams, Bas, Tsarongs, etc., but that would involve a very long and not very profitable discourse, and I therefore pass on to topics of greater interest.

To interpret correctly the aspirations of Tibetan Lamas, their ideals, or the final goal which they strive to attain, it may safely be said that their main purpose in entering the priesthood is only to procure the largest possible amount of fortune, as well as the highest possible fame in that entirely secluded world of theirs. To seek religious truth and to practise religious austerities with a view to acquiring knowledge and character sufficient to carry out the noble work of delivering men and leading them to salvation, is not at all what they wish to do. If they study, they do so as a means of gaining reputation, of extending their influence, and mainly of accumulating wealth. They simply desire to escape from the painful struggle of life in the world of competition, and to enjoy lazy and comfortable days on earth as well as in heaven. Nine hundred and ninety-nine out of a thousand seem to have no conception of the problems of the future life, and there is nothing deep in their religious life. “It is more blessed to receive than to give” is their motto, and hence the monastic life, study and service, in its fullest sense, goes in their eyes for nothing. The reason why these priests and scholars, who ought to be the noblest and most unselfish of all men, have been brought to this state of apostasy, seems to be this.

In Tibet, the social estimation of priest and scholars is made, not according to their learning or virtue, nor yet according to the amount of good they have done for their fellow-men, but entirely according to the amount of property which they possess. Thus, a priest who owns an estate of a thousand dollars, however mean and ignorant he may be, is much more influential and far more highly esteemed in society than a learned and virtuous priest who lives on a small income. They believe in the almighty dollar, and twist S. Paul’s saying: “Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I can remove mountains, and have not” money, “I am nothing.” They are earnest therefore in making money, in whatever way they find profitable. Some of them, as I have said, are engaged in trade or industrial enterprises, and others in agriculture or stock-farming. Besides, it is their custom to appropriate to themselves the remuneration which they receive when they visit laymen’s houses for the purpose of chanting the Sacred Text for them, in accordance with their priestly duty.

It is pitiful to contemplate the condition of the students who, without scholarship or support, are preparing in the colleges for their degrees. They live hard struggling lives of study in the midst of want, and yet the only stimulus that encourages them is the expectation that they will be able to enjoy the comfortable life of high priests, when they have got through the prescribed course of study and have achieved the Doctorate. They do really suffer, but their sufferings are not, so far as I know, those of the man of self-denial who strives hard and struggles against difficulties for the noble ambition of winning souls to salvation, or for some humanitarian purpose; they are exceedingly patient in suffering, simply with the hope of reaping ease and comfort in the latter part of their lives. After a hard monastic life of some twenty years when they have completed the whole course of study, these poor students will have the honor of getting the Doctor’s degree, a title implying the highest learning, but in undue proportion costly; for besides spending nearly half their lives in toils and struggles to get it, they have to give a grand feast to all their schoolmasters to celebrate their graduation. It is true, the feast consists only of meat gruel, a sort of porridge of meat mixed with rice, but the quantity given is enormous, as there are many capacious stomachs to be filled.

To give a feast of this sort requires some five hundred yen at the very least, each bowlful costing over twenty-five sen. Of course, the poverty-stricken priests cannot possibly provide the money themselves, but fortunately the diploma has its use this time; their credit has so much improved that the wealthy priests who turned up their noses at needy students are very willing now to supply them with the necessary money, simply because they have the degree and chance to pay interest. By the means of this convenient credit transaction they can procure the means of giving the necessary banquet and the wealthy priests get not only credit for their generosity, but also interest for their money. But nothing is more disappointing than the future life of those poor priests, who will probably never succeed in paying off the burden of debt, or, if exceptionally fortunate, they may succeed in doing so only after long and hard struggles. It is a sad thing to contemplate, but such is the hard lot of most Tibetan priests.