“Donnerwetter!” he exclaimed, “why, they actually have their guns with them!” The pace was so furious that he had been under the impression that they were galloping past with the teams only; for he had thought it impossible for artillery to move at such speed drawing their field‐pieces. The other officers of the Allied Armies were equally amazed at the sight. “It is positively dangerous!” said a German. “C’est incroyable! Ça ne peut pas!” cried an excited Frenchman. “Say, that’ll show the Dagoes that they’ve got something still to learn,” said a pleased Yankee. The Temple of Heaven consists of long, low buildings of the conventional Chinese architecture, with wide, upturned eaves. We found it empty but for a few memorial tablets of painted or gilded wood. Emerging through a small gate and crossing a tiny marble bridge, we strolled through the park to another temple, the conical roof of which rose above the trees. It was known to the British troops in Pekin as the Temple of the Sun; whether the name is correct or not I cannot say.[3] [Illustration: FIELD‐MARSHAL COUNT VON WALDERSEE REVIEWING THE ALLIED TROOPS IN PEKIN] Passing the cavalry camp we came to a flight of steps, which led up to a terrace. On ascending this we found a huge gateway to the left. We passed through, and then, little susceptible as we were to artistic emotions, we stopped and gazed in silent admiration as the full beauty of the building stood revealed. The temple, circular in shape, stands on a slight eminence, surrounded by tiers of white marble balustrades. Its triple roof, bright with gleaming blue tiles and golden knob, blazed in the sun, the spaces between the roofs filled with gay designs in brilliant colours. The walls were of carved stone open‐work with many doors. It rose, a dream of beauty and grace, against a dark green background of leafy trees, the loveliest building in Pekin. Within, all was bare. An empty altar, a painted tablet, a few broken gilt stools were all that pillaging hands had spared. The massive bronze urns which stood outside, too heavy to be carried away, had lost their handles, wrenched off for the mere value of the metal. Quitting the temple and passing through a door in a low wall, we came to a broad open space, in which stood a curious construction which bears the proud title of “Centre of the Universe.” Three circles of white marble balustrades, one within the other, rose up to a paved platform, round which were large urns. Here once a year the Emperor comes in state to offer sacrifice to the _manes_ of his ancestors. Close by was the Temple of the Moon, in design similar to that of the Sun, but much smaller and with only a single roof.