rness-makers, almost every stall showing some pretty colour
and Rembrandtesque lamplight effect.

The entrance was like that of other pagodas, two white griffins looking
up at the sky, with busy modern life at their feet. There was a long
approach of shallow steps between double rows of red pillars with much
wood-carving overhead, and panels of poor fresco; but it was rather dark
to see details, and the stall-holders from either side were departing,
and we could see little but the flare of these ladies cheroots. As we
got up towards the centre of the temple, a light or two appeared, and
worshippers came in from the shadowy outside. As the candle light
increased it showed that we were under gilded Italian renaissance
arches, and in the centre, where the four arcades met, were lofty
elaborate ornate iron gates round a centre of great light.

Before the gates were curious umbrellas of pink and white silk, and
pendant chrystals and ornate vases of china and lacquer with peacocks
feathers in them; and a golden chest and huge silver bowl (full of
flower-petals) were in shadow to one side.

More and more candles and hanging glass lamps from green-coloured beams
were lit, and gradually worshippers collected and knelt before the great
gates facing the strong light with the blue evening shadows behind them.
They brought with them strange tokens in shapes like marriage cakes but
in brilliant colours, gold, emerald, pink, and vermilion; these they
placed on the pavement in front of them. There were dark-robed people,
men and women from somewhere towards China, some of them old and
tottering, and Chinese, Burmese, Shans, Kachins, Karens, and people of
Asia that I could not place, all kneeling, sitting, and bowing in the
warm glow of light that comes from the great golden Buddha behind the
gates. Amongst them were golden and red lacquered boxes and bowls and a
melee of effects and things, that suggested a curiosity shop, yet withal
a _bigness_ in the golden arches and a simplicity of worship that was
simply grand. Ghost of Rembrandt!--could you have but seen this and
depicted it in your most reverend and inspired moment! Or Rubens--he
would have caught the grandeur of effect, but would he also have caught
the meekness and the piety of the old women's and men's faces.

There was a dog and a Chinese boy beside the peacock feathers, in a blue
silk shirt and trousers edged with black; a Burmese woman sweeping; two
little brown half na