or avenue of sphinxes,
which, on either side, face the causeway which leads to the final gate
which gives entrance to the temple proper. In front of the pylons were
flag-staffs, and the lofty obelisks (one of which now adorns the
Thames Embankment) inscribed with deeply-cut hieroglyphic writing
glorifying the King, whose colossal statues were often placed between
them.

Each of the gateways, and the walls of the temple itself, are covered
with inscriptions, which give it a very rich effect, their strong
shadows and reflected lights breaking up the plain surface of the
walls in a most decorative way, and giving colour to their otherwise
plain exterior. Another point worth notice is that this succession of
gateways becomes gradually larger and more ornate, so that those
entering are impressed with a growing sense of wonder and admiration,
which is not lessened on their return when the diminishing size of the
towers serves to accentuate the idea of distance and immensity.

One of the striking features in the structure of these buildings is
that while the inside walls of tower or temple are perpendicular, the
outside walls are sloping. This was intended to give stability to the
structure, which in modern buildings is imparted by their buttresses;
but in the case of the temples it has a further value in that it adds
greatly to the feeling of massive dignity which was the main principle
of their design.

Entering the temple we find an open courtyard surrounded by a covered
colonnade, the pillars often being made in the form of statues of its
founder. This court, which is usually large, and open to the sky, was
designed to accommodate the large concourse of people which would so
often assemble to witness some gorgeous temple service, and beyond,
through the gloomy but impressive hypostyle[7] hall, lay the shrine of
the god or goddess to whom the temple was dedicated and the dark
corridors and chambers in which the priests conducted their mystic
rites.

[Footnote 7: One with a roof supported by columns.]

In a peculiar way the temple of Dendereh impresses with a sense of
mystic dignity, for though the pylons and obelisks have gone, and its
outside precincts are smothered in a mass of Roman debris, the
hypostyle hall which we enter is perhaps more impressive than any
other interior in Egypt. The massive stone roof, decorated with
illumination and its celebrated zodiac, is supported by eighteen huge
columns, each capped b