waters below. Add to these the fitful ripple of the coquettish breeze,
the burnished blazonry of the surrounding vegetation, the budding charms
of spring joined to the sensuous opulence of autumn, and you have a
scene of lovely glamour it were but vain impertinence to describe. Earth
seemed to have gathered for her adorning here elements more
intellectual, poetic, and inspiring than she commonly displays to pagan
eyes.

These islands at the gateway of the river are, like the bank in the
gulf, but accumulations of the sand borne down before the torrent, that,
suddenly swollen by the rains, rushes annually to the sea. The one on
which the temple stands is partly artificial, having been raised from
the bed of the Meinam by the king P'hra Chow Phra-sat-thong, as a work
of "merit." Visiting this island some years later, I found that this
temple, like all other pyramidal structures in this part of the world,
consists of solid masonry of brick and mortar. The bricks made here are
remarkable, being fully eight inches long and nearly four broad, and of
fine grain,--altogether not unlike the "tavellae" brick of the Egyptians
and ancient Romans. There are cornices on all sides, with steps to
ascend to the top, where a long inscription proclaims the name, rank,
and virtues of the founder, with dates of the commencement of the island
and the shrine. The whole of the space, extending to the low stone
breakwater that surrounds the island, is paved with the same kind of
brick, and encloses, in addition to the P'hra-Cha-dei ("The Lord's
Delight"), a smaller temple with a brass image of the sitting Buddha. It
also affords accommodation to the numerous retinue of princes, nobles,
retainers, and pages who attend the king in his annual visits to the
temple, to worship, and make votive offerings and donations to the
priests. A charming spot, yet not one to be contemplated with unalloyed
pleasure; for here also are the wretched people, who pass up and down in