heaps on silver dishes all round the room. The place was crowded with
priests and leading Buddhists, and we Europeans panted and gasped for
air in that stifling, over-scented atmosphere. Presently the
Hereditary Keeper of the Tooth, who was not a priest but the lineal
descendant of the old Kings of Kandy, knelt down and recited a long
prayer. At its conclusion eight men staggered across the room, bearing
a vast bell-shaped shrine of copper about seven feet high. This was
the outer case of the tooth. The Hereditary Keeper produced an archaic
key, and the outer case was unlocked. The eight men shuffled off with
their heavy burden, and the next covering, a much smaller, bell-shaped
case of gold, stood revealed. All the natives present prostrated
themselves, and we, in accordance with our orders, bowed our heads.
This was repeated six times, the cases growing richer and more heavily
jewelled as we approached the final one. The seventh case was composed
entirely of cut rubies and diamonds, a shimmering and beautiful piece
of work, presented by the Buddhists of Burmah, but made, oddly enough,
in Bond Street, W.1.

When opened, this disclosed the largest emerald known, carved into the
shape of a Buddha, and this emerald Buddha held the tooth in his
hand. After prolonged prostrations, the Hereditary Keeper took a
lotus-flower, beautifully fashioned out of pure gold without alloy,
and placed the tooth in it, on a little altar heaped with frangipani
flowers. The uncovering was over; we three Europeans left the room in
a half-fainting condition, gasping for air, suffocated with the
terrific heat, and stifled with the heavy perfumes.

The octagonal tower over the lake, familiar to all visitors to Kandy,
contains the finest Buddhist theological library in the world. The
books are all in manuscript, each one encased in a lacquer box, though