Then at other times a sentence of the Law is repeated by each monk in turn; or a chant is set up consisting of such words as: Praise be to the Buddha! or praise be to some Bodhi-sattva! followed by a recital of all his names, titles, and epithets; or mystical sentences and syllables are ejaculated. The result is said to be a chaos of voices and a deafening confusion of sounds. The chief instruments used in the services are a spiral shell, a long trumpet of copper or brass (sometimes more than ten feet long), a large drum, flutes, cymbals, and horns—the last being sometimes made of the thigh-bones of human beings[145]. The ritual is imposing, and still more so when a living Buddha is present. It has been described by M. Huc, and I here give the substance of his account[146]. In front of the chief idol, and on a level with the altar, is a gilded seat for the living Buddha or Grand Lāma of the Monastery. The whole space of the temple, from one end to the other, is occupied by long low seats almost level with the ground, stretching right and left of the Grand Lāma’s throne. These are covered with carpets, a vacant space being left between each row for the Lāmas to pass and repass. When the hour of prayer is come, a Lāma, whose office it is to summon the choir, places himself in front of the grand entrance of the temple and blows with all the force of his lungs into a conch-shell trumpet, the sound of which is audible for a league round. This effectually rouses the Lāmas and calls them together. Each then takes his mantle and official hat of ceremony, and repairs to the interior court. The trumpet sounds again, and when its note is heard for the third time, the great door is suddenly thrown open; the living Buddha enters, and takes his seat in front of the image on the altar. Then the Lāmas, after depositing their red boots in the vestibule, advance towards him barefoot, and adore him by three prostrations. This done, they seat themselves on the long seats according to their dignity, cross-legged and face to face. As soon as the director of the ceremonies has given the signal by tinkling a little bell, everyone murmurs the prescribed prayers, unrolling the formularies on his knees. After this recitation, there is profound silence for a minute. Then the bell is again rung, and a hymn or chant in two choruses begins. The Tibetan prayers, ordinarily arranged in verses, and written in metrical style, are well adapted to harmony; but sometimes at certain pauses indicated by the rubric, the Lāma musicians execute a strain in little accord with the gravity of the psalmody. The result is a stunning noise of bells, cymbals, drums, tambourines, conch-shells, trumpets, and pipes. Each musician sounds his instrument with a sort of fury, and each strives to outdo his neighbour in the noise he can produce. (Huc’s Travels, i. 88, abridged.)