It is a strange city, unlike any in the Western World, and if we cannot “see the lions,” we may perhaps “see the elephants” and many novel and interesting things. You have already become somewhat familiar with the copper-colored complexion, the black eyes, black hair and black teeth, the scanty clothing and shaven heads of the people. We will confine our excursion to-day to the Menam River, the Broadway of Bangkok, while the hundreds of canals that intersect it at every angle may be considered the less-important streets. You find the river a busy scene, but need have no fears of a collision with any of the innumerable boats of every size and description that pass, for the Siamese are very skillful boatmen. Your attention is already attracted by the beautiful _wat_, or temple, with its surroundings, on our right. Is it not a beautiful spot, so prettily laid out with fine shade trees, flowering plants and well-swept walks? There are about two hundred wats in Bangkok consecrated to the worship of Buddha. Some of them have groves several acres in extent, containing pagodas, image-houses, priests’ dwellings and salas, or lounging-places. They occupy the pleasantest parts of the city, and the deluded people spend vast sums on these temples and their idols, expecting in this way to make merit for themselves. You will not wonder that they are anxious to make all the merit they can when their religion teaches them that at death their soul enters the body of some animal――a bird, it may be, or a snake, an elephant or a buffalo――unless they have made enough merit to be born something better and higher. [Illustration: BANGKOK ON THE MENAM.] Observe the exterior of this temple. What a gay appearance the neat-colored tiles give the roof! The front, how laboriously carved and how richly gilded! The doors and windows too are more or less carved and gilded. Now we will go inside. The scenes with which these inner walls are so gayly painted are chiefly from the life of Buddha, and see, in the farther end, on an ornamental throne, is an immense gilt image of this deity in a sitting posture. This is made of brick and mortar, but idols are sometimes of gold, silver, brass, ivory, wood and stone. All have the same self-complacent, sleepy look. Look! a worshiper has followed us in. Watch his movements. See him prostrate himself before the idol, touching his forehead three times to the floor, and now he lays his simple offering of flowers upon the altar. Mark the complacency of his countenance as he leaves, no doubt feeling that he has added not a little to his stock of merit. [Illustration: HOUSE-SPARROW.] But we must return to our boat and move on up the river, for I hope to have time to visit the royal temple and perhaps some others.