But the most remarkable relic of the past is not of brick or stone; it is a tree, the _Bo_ tree, sacred beyond all others, since tradition asserts that it sprang from a branch of the very tree under which, at Gaya in the Ganges Valley, Gautama attained his Buddhahood. If this be really the tree planted in the year 288 B.C., it is one of the oldest in the world with a recorded history. At the entrance to the sacred enclosure we pass 43 the stalls of the sellers of lotos blossoms which the pilgrims buy to offer at the shrine. Inside is the tree with its 44 raised terrace and altars piled with flowers, its priests 45 and groups of worshippers at prayer. It is a very different scene from the Hindu temple or Mohammedan mosque. In many of the old buildings of the Sinhalese kingdom there are elaborate carvings and paintings; here we have a fine 46 specimen of an interior. Both the buildings and their ornaments prove that the people were well advanced in some of the arts of civilization. But the native arts and crafts are almost dead, killed by foreign trade and cheap goods. We may still see at 47 Kandy the weaving of the native or _Dumbara_ cloths, and 48 the working in silver and brass; but these are barely kept alive by people interested in the past. The Sinhalese generally have no industries apart from agriculture, and even in this they keep to the old and primitive methods and crops, leaving to Europeans, aided by imported Tamil coolies, the real agricultural development of the country. The next generation may see a change, as the Sinhalese of to-day are learning to appreciate the value of education. There are over a quarter of a million children attending the schools provided or supported by the Government, and a beginning has also been made with technical training. Here we have a village school, with the classes being held in the 49 open air, as the building is too small for the crowd of 50 scholars. But it takes many years of education to change the ideas and habits of a conservative people, and it will be long before the familiar figure of the professional letter-writer 51 disappears from the steps of the post office. We must look for modern progress not in the ruined cities but in the new plantation districts of the hill country. The railway will again carry us in comfort through the slopes of the planting country to Niuwara Eliya, up in the clouds, six thousand feet above the sea, the health resort of the planters and European residents.