aut, takes its annual airing
from the lofty temple at Tanjore, drawn by hundreds of worshipers.

It is exhibited by the official priests, and only on special
occasions, with tokens of profound reverence. It was shown to the
Prince of Wales in 1875, and to his two sons in 1882. The author well
remembers a personal experience in the crypt of a certain Roman
Catholic Church in Italy, where he was being shown a collection of
"sacred" relics, pieces of the "true cross," etc., together with a
lot of "holy" vestments rendered heavy by pretended gems of great
value wrought into the texture of the clothing.

"Do you," was asked of the attendant priest at the time, "who are so
intelligent, believe in the genuineness of these pretended stones?"

"They have their use," was his evasive reply.

"You certainly know that these so-called emeralds, rubies, and
sapphires, are of glass and worthless?" we continued.

The answer was a cool shrug of the shoulders and a hasty covering up
of the garments. The author knew too much about gems to be easily
deceived, and the priest had permitted him to scrutinize them more
closely than was usual. The original gems, if real ones had ever been
used, had been purloined by priestly connivance, and false stones
supplied to fill their place.

A far more interesting and probably much more genuine relic than the
tooth which is so reverently preserved in the Kandy temple is a rudely
engraved metallic dish or "alms pot," which is said to have been the
personal property of Buddha,--the receptacle for the coins contributed
by the mass of the people in charity. The Singhalese priests of to-day
carry a similar brass bowl for a like purpose, and are not at all
backward in making their demands for contributions from strangers.

These Kandian priests of the yellow robe are low-bred and ignorant.
We speak of them as a body. There are some brilliant exceptions, but
as a rule they have few qualities calculated to command respect.
Cleanliness with them is also one of the lost arts, notwithstanding
the pretended multiplicity of their baths, while their ceaseless habit
of chewing the repulsive betelnut and expectorating the red saliva in
all directions is extremely disgusting, equaled only by the filthy
habits of tobacco-chewers.

We have said that the mouldy old Buddhist Temple of the Tooth at Kandy
was the most interesting and attractive object to all strangers, but
there is also here a tree, if tradition is c