ADAM'S SECOND EDEN 
127 
impression of the surpassing splendor of 
this jewel show. While the strangers 
gape at the treasure heap, the guardians, 
dressed in old Kandyan costumes — • 
bunchy skirts, short jackets, and flaring 
turbans — have swept away the offerings 
of the last ceremony, and the worshipers 
advance ecstatic and kneel to lay their 
heaps of white flowers on the silver 
tables until they overflow and the silver 
floor is piled deep with blossoms and 
garlands. The grandest guardian of 
them all extends a gold tray as large as 
a table top, on which the alien's offering 
of a silver rupee looks no larger than an 
anna or a pice. 
In the octagonal library overlooking 
the lake there is a great collection of 
sacred books, old Pali texts written on 
strips of palm leaves and bound in covers 
of carved ivory, ebony, and sandalwood, 
beaten silver, and gold. There is also a 
great literature of modern Buddhism by 
western writers. Buddhist priests from 
Burma, Siam, and Japan come to study 
in this library, and all those strange Occi- 
dentals who have adopted the Buddhist 
faith— Colonel Olcott, Madame Blavat- 
sky, Allan McGregor, and Mrs. Besant — 
have left their names and taken instruc- 
tion here, although these rather intelli- 
gent and scholarly Kandyan priests smile 
and shake their heads at the mention of 
mahatmas, yogis, and all the hocus-pocus 
of the theosophist ofl^shoots of the north- 
ern school. 
There is preaching in the temple and 
chanting of the sacred books on each 
night of the full moon. On the full- 
moon nights of June, July, and August^ — 
the anniversaries of the chief events in 
the life of Gautama Buddha, the Great 
Renunciation, the Great Enlightenment, 
and the entry into Nirvana — there are 
greater services, the August festival last- 
ing for a fortnight, with elephant pro- 
cessions every night. 
I went one full-moon night to the 
services in a new temple deep in a dell 
off Lady McCarthy's Road, at the far 
end of Kandy. The people were coming 
and going all night long, and there were 
stalls for the sale of fruits, rice, and 
drinks at the eate. Children ran about 
and played in the temple courts or slept 
on their mothers' knees. 
A circle of priests sat in an inner 
sanctuary and between dark and dawn 
chanted the whole text of the Tripitakas, 
or "Three Baskets" (of wisdom), relays 
of yellow-robed celebrants succeeding 
one another every two hours. They 
chanted in deep, resounding voices, as 
steady and continuous as the roar of the 
surf, without break, quaver, or pause, 
sitting motionless for each two hours' 
turn. In this same way Buddhist priests 
have repeated the sacred texts every full- 
moon night for 25 centuries, the oral ver- 
sion passed on and kept pure in this way. 
The drives and walks around Kandy 
are enough to occupy one for weeks. 
One drives to far temples on picturesque 
hills and pinnacle rocks, to tea estates, 
to the Botanical Garden, and to the river 
bank every afternoon to watch the tem- 
ple elephants enjoy their bath and a 
water carnival. New roads are always 
being made, and Lady McCarthy's Road, 
Lady Gordon's Road, Lady Longden's 
Drive, and Lady Blake's Drive are 
named for as many chatelaines of Gov- 
ernment House, who interested them- 
selves in developing the beauties of 
Kandy. Lady Morton's Walk is more 
fascinating than them all, and strikes 
straight up the forested hillside back of 
the King's Pavilion into an enchanted 
jungle, winding far around on the hills, 
with views out and down on the lake and 
the town. 
The Peradeniya Gardens, four miles 
away, present every beautiful and useful 
tree, plant, and flower that will grow in 
this ideal climate of eternal June. One 
walks in wonderland down one avenue 
of giant rubber trees, along another of 
royal palms, past groups of talipot, pal- 
myra, and soaring areca palms, gigantic 
fans of travelers' palms, clumps of giant 
bamboo soaring a hundred feet in air, 
groves of nutmeg and cinnamon trees, 
ponds of victoria regia, thickets of tree 
ferns, mats of blue iridescent ferns, and 
long borders of sensitive plants. 
The orchid-house delights one, with all 
its hundreds of baskets and pieces of 
mossy branches hanging in the open air, 
only mat awnings sheltering the treas- 
