Signs of the extent to which religion forms part of everyday life strike the most casual observer. The country is full of pagodas, monasteries, theins,[185] images of the Buddha, zayats. Pagodas vary in size from the stately Shwe Dagôn to the humble fane on the outskirts of a village. It may be worth while to explain that a pagoda is not a temple in which worshippers pay their devotions. It is a solid structure, often built over sacred relics, of varying type, the most prevalent being that of the great pagoda at Rangoon. Some pagodas are richly gilded, others merely whitewashed. Each is crowned with a ti, if possible studded with jewels. The very topmost pinnacle is often an inverted soda-water bottle, a primitive shield against lightning. Monks must have monasteries. These also differ in glory, from the great buildings, richly ornamented with carving covered with gold, founded by the King or Queen or some high official, which adorn the royal city, to the mat and thatched hut which shelters the poor village monk. A Burman who amasses wealth, the farmer who has an abundant harvest and good prices, the merchant whose venture has been successful, the rich broker or money-lender, does not hoard his gains. He spends them on jewels for his wife and daughters, on silks for these ladies and himself, on building a monastery, or a pagoda, a zayat, incidentally on a pwè[186] or an ahlu.[187] The builder of a pagoda is a Paya-taga, of a monastery a Kyaung-taga, honorific titles in familiar use, as common as the title of Colonel is said to be in the United States. Laymen are associated in religious observances. A monastery has a lay attendant, a Kappiya-taga, who makes it his business to see that the building is maintained and duly swept and garnished. Every eighth day is set apart by the pious for religious observances, for meditation, for visiting a pagoda, for attendance at a monastery to hear the Law expounded. Each year there is a long Lenten period (Wa), when abstinence and religious practices are enjoined on the faithful, when good Buddhists refrain from marrying, when monks remain secluded in their monasteries, undertaking no journeys. A monk reckons his monastic life by the number of Lents he has observed. All this sounds rather gloomy, and in theory Buddhism ought to have a depressing effect. It teaches the transitoriness and mutability of this world and of all human things. No personal God smiles on his worshippers or listens to their prayers. This life is an evil in itself, a period to be spent in the acquisition of merit, in preparation for the ascent to a higher plane. The goal of every man’s striving is the blessed rest of Nirvana (Neikban), a state, not of annihilation, but of rest for many ages from passion and all transitory disturbance. For even the rest of Nirvana is not eternal. After many æons, it may be, the unceasing round begins again. The practical effect of this austere creed is quite different. Nowhere