On the political side the true achievement was not the formal Treaty, but the going to Lhasa. We taught the Tibetans that their mysterious capital could not be shut against our troops, and that Russian promises were less real than British performances. We showed ourselves strong, and, above all things, humane, and we earned respect, and, it would also appear, a kind of affection. When the venerable Regent solemnly blessed the Commissioner and General Macdonald for their clemency, and presented each with a golden image of Buddha--an honour rarely granted to the faithful, and never before to an unbeliever--he gave expression to the general feeling of the people. Tibet was enveloped once more in its old seclusion--a deeper seclusion, indeed, since we guaranteed it. A final result was that we vindicated our claim to protect our subjects and those who served us. We took our Gurkhas into the forbidden land, which their native traditions had invested with a miraculous power, and showed them the truth. As for Bhutan, up to 1904 it was as obscure as Tibet and its people were strangers. They were now, in the Commissioner's phrase, "our enthusiastic allies." Their ruler in his Homburg hat joined us in the march, and acted as master of ceremonies in introducing us to the Lhasa notables. Nearly twenty years have passed, and much water has since run under the bridges. In 1906 China adhered to the Treaty, and in 1907 came the Anglo-Russian Convention which provided for the secluding of the country by both Powers, and recognized China's suzerain rights. In 1909 the Dalai Lama, who had been restored, was ejected by Chinese troops, and in 1910 he was at Darjeeling, a refugee claiming our hospitality. Once again he was reinstated, and he has ever since been a faithful ally of Britain. At the outbreak of the Great War he offered 1,000 Tibetan troops, and informed the King that lamas through the length and breadth of Tibet were praying for the success of the British arms and for the happiness of the souls of the fallen.