Steadily pressing onward, with constant reinforcements trooping from every avenue, the crush became alarming, but finally we entered a wide park and in relief the people spread like a great, black wave over the green lawn thinning to an obelisk peak toward a shining temple, with glistening steeples topped with huge golden globes. The bronze portals stood wide and, carried along by the rush of devout Centaurians, I entered a place dark with the chill of a sepulchre. My eyes accustomed to the brilliant sunlight at first could distinguish nothing, but gradually the darkness lifted. I was in a house of worship crowded with a kneeling, reverent congregation. Ignorant of what they worshipped, I would not kneel, but squatted upon the cold, tiled floor, and peered through the dim light. A long hall, wide, windowless, with lofty domed ceiling and rounded walls hung with rich tapestries and exquisite wood etchings. In the roof was a circular opening about twenty feet in diameter—this admitted all the light and ventilation. No wonder the place was cold, dark and filled with close vapors. Directly beneath this opening four massive, yet transparent, columns rose, and in the center a figure stood heavily draped, with face upturned and arms hanging limply at the sides. In the dimness at first I took this form for a fifth column. The congregation was a silent one, no psalm singing, minister or priest; yet all were reverently, devoutly engrossed. Gradually the light grew brighter, clearer, and long, slanting rays of the sun filtered through the opening. Longer, stronger, grew these slants of light and heat penetrating the darkest corner. Then suddenly the sun itself appeared, a round, burning disc, high in the heavens directly above the opening. The Temple was flooded with light, and the figure I took for a statue moved, flinging up its arms in worshipful adoration, chanting weirdly in low tones. As the sun moved so did the form. I caught a glimpse of the face and fell against my neighbor with a loud, startled cry, but my voice was drowned in the great volume of music that filled the place. These people with lifted faces and outstretched arms sang ardently—sang to the Sun. And the woman upon whom I feasted my eyes stood in all her marvelous loveliness amid the burning rays of this fiery god, in truth a Priestess of the Sun. As the sun gradually sailed over the opening the rays became shorter, more oblique, casting odd black shadows, and finally the Temple was once more in darkness. The song ended abruptly, the congregation rose and quietly dispersed; services were over. I remained, intending to examine this peculiar Temple of a fiery religion, but the lid slid suddenly over the opening above and hastily I groped my way to the door, thankful there were no seats to stumble over. Out in the hot sunshine again I mingled with the crowd that hurried in various directions and wandered about the city for hours.