they are set in rows very near together. Altogether
there are one thousand six hundred of them! There is no roof now, but in
the days of its glory this great house, which was built for the priest,
had nine, and was finished by a sheet of burnished copper which caught
the sun's rays and flashed far and wide beneath the clear blue sky. The
walls were decorated with glittering stones and the fittings were of the
most costly and beautiful kind. The wonder is how the priests found room
to walk about between those multitudinous columns which so filled the
space in their halls.

[Illustration: THE BRAZEN PALACE, CEYLON.]

One more sight in this city of ancient glory. Do you see across that
park-like space of short grass some fires glimmering weirdly in the dusk
which has now fallen round the most sacred object in Anuradhapura; I
won't say what it is. Come nearer. A heavy scent, like that of
tuberoses, greets us as we approach; it comes from the white waxy
blossoms of the frangipani lying in that cardboard saucer with all the
heads put outwards like the spokes of a wheel. In the centre is a pink
blossom. Those flowers are sold as offerings in this sacred place. Don't
stumble over that dark bundle, it is a sleeping child. Step cautiously
between the bright-eyed people who watch, furtively alert, like shy
woodland creatures, as they crouch low over their fires, for the evening
has suddenly become chilly with the loss of the sun. These are pilgrims
come from afar, and they will lie down to sleep just as they are in the
open. There are very few at this time of the year; but in June and
July, which are the principal months, thousands and thousands arrive
here, having crossed weary leagues to come. It is strange how the world
is linked up by its pilgrimages. We saw the pilgrims in the Holy Land
coming from afar to the Christian shrines, humble and devout, believing
all that was told them and carrying out in their poor lives much of
Christ's teaching; we saw them in crowded and uncomfortable ships
journeying from Mecca, the shrine of Mohammedanism; and now we see them
here reverently drawn to the only sacred place they know, there to pray
to something unseen and unknown, that they may be helped by a power
stronger than themselves. In all ages and all races man yearns for a
god, and if he knows not God he still worships dimly any strange god he
hears of.

We cross some brick pavement, and climb up a few worn steps on to a
platform s