ical reports. Their construction is remarkably solid. They do
not, like most large buildings in India or Europe, contain halls of
some size but are rather pyramids traversed by passages. But this
curious disinclination to build temples of the usual kind is not due
to any dislike of images. In no Buddhist country are they more common
and their numbers are more noticeable because there is here no
pantheon as in China and Tibet, but images of Gotama are multiplied,
merely in order to obtain merit. Some slight variety in these figures
is produced by the fact that the Burmese venerate not only Gotama but
the three Buddhas who preceded him.[187] The Shwe Dagon Pagoda is
reputed to contain relics of all four; statues of them all stand in
the beautiful Ananda Pagoda at Pagan and not infrequently they are
represented by four sitting figures facing the four quarters. A
gigantic group of this kind composed of statues nearly 90 feet high
stands in the outskirts of Pegu, and in the same neighbourhood is
a still larger recumbent figure 180 feet long. It had been forgotten
since the capture of Pegu by the Burmans in 1757 and was rediscovered
by the engineers surveying the route for the railway. It lies almost
in sight of the line and is surprising by its mere size, as one comes
upon it suddenly in the jungle. As a work of art it can hardly be
praised. It does not suggest the Buddha on his death bed, as is
intended, but rather some huge spirit of the jungle waking up and
watching the railway with indolent amusement.

In Upper Burma there are not so many large images but as one
approaches Mandalay the pagodas add more and more to the landscape.
Many are golden and the rest are mostly white and conspicuous. They
crown the hills and punctuate the windings of the valleys. Perhaps
Burmese art and nature are seen at their best near Sagaing on the bank
of the Irrawaddy, a mighty flood of yellow water, sweeping down smooth
and steady, but here and there showing whirlpools that look like
molten metal. From the shore rise hills of moderate height studded
with monasteries and shrines. Flights of white steps lead to the
principal summits where golden spires gleam and everywhere are pagodas
of all ages, shapes and sizes. Like most Asiatics the Burmese rarely
repair, but build new pagodas instead of renovating the old ones. The
instinct is not altogether unjust. A pagoda does not collapse like a
hollow building but understands the art of growing old