a
table at the back of the altar are seven images of Buddha in pure gold,
the right hand of each pointed upward. On the thumb and fingers of each
hand glitters a king's ransom in rings of sapphires, emeralds and
rubies, while from the center of each palm flashes a rosette of
diamonds. High up toward the rafters, at the apex of the golden
pyramid, in a sort of recess toward which the fingers of the seven
images are pointing, sits an image of Buddha, perhaps twelve inches
high, said to be cut from one enormous emerald--whence the temple's
name. As a matter of fact, it is made of jade and is of incalculable
value. Set in its forehead are three eyes, each an enormous diamond.
The history of this extraordinary idol is lost in the mists of
antiquity. Tradition has it that it fell from heaven into one of the
Laos states, being captured by the Siamese in battle. Since then it has
been repeatedly lost, captured or stolen. Its story, like that of so
many famous jewels, might fittingly be written in blood.

It is the custom in Siam for every man to spend a portion of his life
in a monastery. This rule applies to everyone from the poorest peasant
upward, the king and all the male members of the royal family having at
some period worn the yellow robe of a monk. This curious custom is, no
doubt, an imitation of the so-called Act of Renunciation of Gautama,
the future Buddha, who, at the age of twenty-nine, moved by the
sufferings of humanity, renounced his rights to his father's throne
and, abandoning his wife and child, devoted the remainder of his life
to religion. Just as every American boy is expected to go to school, so
every Siamese youth is expected to enter a monastery, the stern
discipline enforced during this period accounting, I have no doubt, for
the docility which is so noticeable a part of the Siamese character.
While I was in Siam I was the guest one day of the officers' mess of
the crack regiment of the household cavalry. Though my hosts, with few
exceptions, spoke fluent English, though several of them had been
educated at English schools and universities, and though the
conversation over the mess table was of polo and racing and big game
shooting and bridge, I learned to my astonishment that every one of
these debonair young officers, with their worldly manners and their
beautifully cut uniforms, had at one time shaved his head, donned the
yellow robe of a monk, and begged his food from door to door. In view
of the