od,
whose likeness is that of a devil, carries the wind-bag; and the
Thunder-god, who is also shaped like a devil, carries a drum and a
drumstick.[33] The second gate is called the Gate of the gods Nio, or
the Two Princes, whose colossal statues, painted red, and hideous to
look upon, stand on either side of it. Between the gates is an
approach four hundred yards in length, which is occupied by the stalls
of hucksters, who sell toys and trifles for women and children, and by
foul and loathsome beggars. Passing through the gate of the gods Nio,
the main hall of the temple strikes the eye. Countless niches and
shrines of the gods stand outside it, and an old woman earns her
livelihood at a tank filled with water, to which the votaries of the
gods come and wash themselves that they may pray with clean hands.
Inside are the images of the gods, lanterns, incense-burners,
candlesticks, a huge moneybox, into which the offerings of the pious
are thrown, and votive tablets[34] representing the famous gods and
goddesses, heroes and heroines, of old. Behind the chief building is a
broad space called the _okuyama_, where young and pretty waitresses,
well dressed and painted, invite the weary pilgrims and holiday-makers
to refresh themselves with tea and sweetmeats. Here, too, are all
sorts of sights to be seen, such as wild beasts, performing monkeys,
automata, conjurers, wooden and paper figures, which take the place of
the waxworks of the West, acrobats, and jesters for the amusement of
women and children. Altogether it is a lively and a joyous scene;
there is not its equal in the city.

[Footnote 33: This gate was destroyed by fire a few years since.]

[Footnote 34: Sir Rutherford Alcock, in his book upon Japan, states
that the portraits of the most famous courtesans of Yedo are yearly
hung up in the temple at Asakusa. No such pictures are to be seen now,
and no Japanese of whom I have made inquiries have heard of such a
custom. The priests of the temple deny that their fane was ever so
polluted, and it is probable that the statement is but one of the many
strange mistakes into which an imperfect knowledge of the language led
the earlier travellers in Japan. In spite of all that has been said by
persons who have had no opportunity of associating and exchanging
ideas with the educated men of Japan, I maintain that in no country is
the public harlot more abhorred and looked down upon.]

At Asakusa, as indeed all over Yedo, are