On Wednesday the Viceroy of India received a state visit
from the Teshu Lama, the second in rank in the hierarchy of Tibet, and the Tongsa Penlop, the temporal ruler of Bhutan. Even Calcutta can scarcely have witnessed many ceremonies more picturesque. The Tibetans rode through the streets on shaggy bill ponies, the Lama himself being borne in a gorgeous sedan-chair, while the tail of his pony, which was led behind him, received the salutations of the faithful. Scarcely less remarkable was the Bhutanese retinue, clad in rich silks, bare-legged, and wonderfully batted. The visitors attended a race meeting, and seem to have been profoundly impressed by the spectacle of so many people,—more, they declared, than they had conceived existed in the world. We trust that the business discussed between them and Lord Minto was satisfactory, but in any case their mere presence is a signifi- cant proof of the achievement of the Tibetan Expedition. Who would have dared to prophesy five years ago that in a little while one of the most sacred and unapproachable of Tibetan Lamas would be sitting in a Calcutta grand-stand as the Viceroy's guest ?