and pedestals, and an altar on which were a bullock and
two pigs, each carefully scraped and dressed and lying with
heads towards the statue and tablet. In several other temples,
notably in the one to the Five Generations of Ancestors, other
animals were lying, some evidently offered the day before and
others awaiting the worship of the day now beginning.
Altogether I counted nineteen sacrificial animals--one bullock,
eight sheep and ten pigs. The great temple is of noble proportions,
with an overhanging roof of enormous size but constructed
on such graceful lines as to be exquisitely beautiful.
But within dust reigns, while without as usual the grass and
weeds grow unchecked.

Last of all we visited the library, though the name is a
misnomer, for there are no books in it and our courteous guides
said there never had been. We ascended the narrow stairs
leading from the vast, empty, dusty room on the lower floor
through an equally empty second story to the third and topmost
story, which is the home of hundreds of doves. Going
out on the narrow balustrade under the eaves in the gray dawn
of the morning, I looked upon the gorgeous gilded roof of the
temple near by and then down upon the many ancient buildings,
the darkly solemn pines, the massive monuments resting
on ponderous stone turtles, and the group of Chinese standing
among the shadows and with faces turned curiously upward.
Suddenly a dove flew over my head and then the sun rose
slowly and majestically above the sombre tree-tops, throwing
splendid floods of light upon us who stood aloft. But the
Chinese below were in the sombre shades of a night that for
them had not yet fully ended. I would fain believe that the