Thetempleisveryhandsome，thebaldachinoissuperb，andthebronzesandbrassesonthealtararespeciallyfine。Abroadrayofsunlightstreamedin，crossedthemattedfloor，andfellfulluponthefigureofSakya-muniinhisgoldenshrine；andjustatthatmomentashavenpriest，insilk-brocadedvestmentsoffadedgreen，silentlypasseddownthestreamoflight，andlitthecandlesonthealtar，andfreshincensefilledthetemplewithadrowsyfragrance。Itwasamostimpressivepicture。Hiscuriosityevidentlyshortenedhisdevotions，andhecameandaskedmewhereI
hadbeenandwhereIwasgoing，towhich，ofcourse，IrepliedinexcellentJapanese，andthenstuckfast。
Alongthepavedavenue，besidestheusualstonetroughforholywater，thereareononesidethethousand-armedKwan-non，averyfinerelief，andontheotheraBuddha，thronedontheeternallotusblossom，withanironstaff，muchresemblingacrozier，inhishand，andthateternalapathyonhisfacewhichisthehighesthopeofthosewhohopeatall。Iwentthroughawood，wheretherearesomemournfulgroupsofgravesonthehillside，andfromthetemplecamethesweetsoundofthegreatbronzebellandthebeatofthebigdrum，andthen，morefaintly，thesoundofthelittlebellanddrum，withwhichthepriestaccompanieshisceaselessrepetitionofaphraseinthedeadtongueofadistantland。Thereisaninfinitepathosaboutthelonelytempleinitssplendour，theabsenceofevenpossibleworshippers，andthelargepopulationofAinos，sunkinyetdeepersuperstitionsthanthosewhichgotomakeuppopularBuddhism。IsatonarockbythebaytillthelastpinkglowfadedfromUsu-takiandthelastlemonstainfromthestillwater；andabeautifulcrescent，whichhungoverthewoodedhill，hadset，andtheheavensblazedwithstars:
“Tenthousandstarswereinthesky，Tenthousandinthesea，Andeverywavewithdimpledface，Thatleaptupontheair，Hadcaughtastarinitsembrace，Andheldittremblingthere。“
ThelonelinessofUsuBayissomethingwonderful——ahousefullofemptyroomsfallingtodecay，withonlytwomeninit——oneJapanesehouseamong500savages，yetitwastheonlyoneinwhichIhavesleptinwhichtheyboltedneithertheamadonorthegate。Duringthenighttheamadofelloutoftheworn-outgrooveswithacrash，knockingdowntheshoji，whichfellonme，androusingIto，whorushedintomyroomhalf-asleep，withavaguevisionofblood-