Then I was lighted along passages into the public part of the temple.
The priest with an acolyte began service at the middle altar.
Afterwards he proceeded to a side altar. At one stage of the service
he chanted a hymn which ran something like this:

From the virtues and the mercies of divine providence we
get faith, the worth of which is boundless.
The ice of petty care and trouble which froze our hearts
is melted.
It has become the water of divine illumination, bearing
us on to peace.
The more care and trouble, the greater the illumination
and the reward.

I knelt on the outside of the congregational group. It was cold as
the great doors were slid open from time to time and the kneeling
figures grew in number to about forty. Day broke and a few sparrows
twittered by the time the first part of the service was over.

The priest then took up his lamp and low table, and, coming without
the altar rail, knelt down in the midst of the congregation. In this
familiar relation with his people he delivered a homily in a
conversational tone. Buddha was to mankind as a father to his
children, he said. If a man did bad things but repented, his father
would be more delighted than if he got rich. The way of serving Buddha
was to feel his love. To ask of the rich or of a master was
supplication, but we did not need to supplicate Buddha. Our love of
Buddha and his love for us would become one thing. Carelessness, an
evil spirit, doubt: these were the enemies. Gold was beautiful to look
at, but if the gold stuck in one's eyes so that one could not see, how