The service began with the customary calling for Buddha. The Abbot tapped upon a bamboo cane; every one leant forward, their faces pressed down, and their foreheads resting upon the floor. The palms of their hands were extended beyond their heads in an attitude of reverence and humility. This prostration was accompanied by the intoning of a Thibetan chant, to the accompaniment of a brass gong, struck with a horn handle by the Abbot himself. Further prostrations followed upon the part of the entire assemblage, the women joining in this part of the service. For the most part they squatted silently and reverently in their corner of the temple. As the different services concluded the Abbot shifted the offerings before the main altar to their appointed stations before the smaller shrines, when the prayers proceeded afresh. Protracted overtures were made to the picture of the Ten Judges, before which the service apparently became fully choral. One priest danced amazing and grotesque steps, strangely reminiscent of a Kaffir war-dance, the sole of one foot striking the floor to the accompaniment of a clash of cymbals as the other leapt into the air. Another priest played upon the cracked bell, and a third kept up a dull, monotonous thumping on the drum. The sole idea of the priests, as conveyed to my mind by their celebration, seemed to be the breaking up of the solemn silence of the night by the most amazing medley of noises. At intervals, in the course of the unmusical colloquy between the drums, the cymbals, and the big bell, the monks chanted their dirges, which were, in turn, punctuated by the dislocated tapping of the Abbot’s brass bell and wooden knocker.