mii^o -m?^

OR,

Life IN AM Ancjent Buddhist City

Rev. S.LANGDON.

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,'V' >

LIFE IN AN ANCIENT BUDDHIST CITY

PRIXTED BY
KPOT'nSWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE

THE

APPEAL TO THE SERPENT

fife in ail ^mmi gulib^ist Oi^itg

A STORY OF CEYLON IN THE FOURTH CENTURY A.D.

BY THE

KEY. SAMUEL LANGDON

ME.MBEll OF THE ROYAL At-IATIC SOCIETY (CEYLON)
AUTHOH OP 'MY MISSION GAIIDKN ' ' PCNCHI NONA, A STORY OF
VILLAGE LIFE IN CEYLON ' ETC.

THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY

56 Paternoster Row, 65 St Paul's Churchyard
AND 164 Piccadilly

/^/C

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. OX MIHINTALA 11

II. THE WESTERN FOREIGNEHS iU

III. IN THE PREACHING HALL .49

IV. AT THE astrologer's 63

V. THE JEWESS 74

VI. OUT OF THE CITY .1)0

VII. THE NEW RELIGION 103

VIII. THE BURNT HAND 114

IX. THE PANSALA 129

X. PASTORAL 141

XI. THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD .... 156
XII. WITH THE ' RECONCILERS ' 172

XIII. OMENS AND REFLECTIONS 184

XIV. WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S . . . 197
XV. LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH 210

XVI. CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE . . . . 225

XVII. IN WHICH ABHAl'O THERO GOES TO MIHINTALA FOR

THE LAST TIME 239

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

PAGE

XVIII. FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS 251

XIX. TROUBLE AT ' SARANA ' 262

XX. AT THE 'BRAZEN PALACE' 279

XXI. THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT £95

XXII. THE MONSOON COMES . . .... .S04

XXIII. AFTER THE BIONSOON 3]2

THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT

CHAPTER I.

ON MIHINTALA.

Men, driven by fear, go to many a refuge,

To mountains and forests, to groves and sacred trees.

BUDDHAGOSHA.

To Mihintala, men had gone as to a refuge during many
centuries, even before the time in which our story opens.
The natural features of the hill, and its solitary majesty,
had invested it in the earliest days with a sacred cha-
racter. To the builders of Anuradhapura it was a
favoured habitation of the gods, and it is possible that
the nearness of the holy mountain influenced their
decision as to the locality in which the royal city should
be built, as much as the constellation under which it
was founded, and from which its name was partly
derived.'

The old Pali chronicles are full of the praises of the

' Founded about 450 B.C. by Prince Anuradho, and called after
the constellation of that name.

12 ON MIHINTALA

sacred hill. Before it had been honoured as the spot
selected for the introduction of Buddhism, it was called
' The Superb Missa.' And if that epithet was ineant to
describe the view to be obtained from its summit, or
from the' peak which forms the most sacred feature of
the hill, called by the old historian Mahanamo 'The
Delightful Ambatthalo,' the adjective was well deserved,
as anybody will say wh,o has had the opportunity of
looking from its giddy heights on the vast plain which
surrounds it, and enjoying one of the jBnest views to be
obtained even in Ceylon .1^ Probably, nobody makes the
ascent now without' trying to realise in some way the
magnificent vision which lay spread beneath when the
great city came up close to the ' holy mountain ' itself,
if it did not include it ; when a road, lined with shrines
and statues, called by Tennent the Via Sacra^ con-
nected this vast natural dagoba with the scarcely less
imposing artificial hills erected by the kings of the
' great dynasty.'

On the adornment of the hill the pious kings had
lavished much wealth, skill, and labour. No sacrifice
was too great and no offering too valuable to be devoted
to the enrichment of the hill on which Buddhism was
first preached to the Sinhalese. And the entire hill,
with its two thousand steps cut out from the hard
granite rock, its aqueducts of solid stone, its great gal-
leries, wiharas,^ the massive sculptures of Buddhas,
kings, and sacred symbols, formed one great monument
to Mahindo, the Indian Apostle of Buddhism, who,
more than three hundred years before the Christian
era, brought the doctrines of Gautama, the Buddha, to
Ceylon.

' Temples or image-houses.

ON MIHINTALA 13

It is impossible for one to stand there now, looking
down on the forest-covered plain, without being deeply
impressed, as he thinks not only of the wilderness beauty
of the scene, but of the historical associations which
cluster around the mountain, and of the story of the
ancient city which once covered with a busy life so vast
a portion of the plain below. There I stood some time
ago, trying to realise, with the help of old chroniclers
and modern writers, some idea of the life on the plain
in the days of Anuradhapura's glory. And as I stood
thinking of the ' might-have-beens,' of magnificent
pageants, of gorgeous processions of kings and priests,
of the great tank-makers and dagoba-builders, of con-
tending armies, of bloody struggles between Sinhalese
and Damilos, of the millions of men and women who
had marched in a vast procession of life across the
plain through the centuries, shouting the three ' Saranas '
or ' Refuges,' their only hope, and of the ' holy moun-
tain ' standing immovable in the midst of it all ; and as
I thought also of the faint glimpse which an ancient
Greek traveller ' gives us of a Christian church existing
in Ceylon in those early centuries, a dream of the past,
which may possibly have some meaning for the present,
outlined itself dimly before my mind, and this was what
I saw:

It was the afternoon of a fine day, early in the
month of Jattho, which corresponds in the Buddhist
calendar to our month of May. A great festival was to
be held on Mihintala, and everything betokened that
it was to be celebrated with the utmost magnificence.
A grand torchlight procession was to be made that

' Cosmas Indicopleustes, about__5-iO A.D.

14 ON MIHINTALA

night to the shrine of Mahindo, in which the king
himself, Sri Meghawarna, would take part, in honour
of the recent arrival in Anuradhapura of the sacred
tooth-relic, which, it was stated, had been rescued
more than eight hundred years before from the funeral
pyre of the Buddha, and which had now been sent
to Ceylon with much secrecy from Kalinga, that it
might be saved from falling into the possession of the
Brahmins, the victorious opponents of Buddhism in
India.

This was to be only one of a series of functions to
be held in celebration of the great event which had
filled the royal city with rejoicing. Mihintala was
covered with garlands, which made it look as if the
entire mountain had blossomed into flower. A hundred
arches of beautiful design, ornamented with fruits
and flowers, and festooned with moss and the young
palm-leaf, had been erected on the stairs of the
ascent, and over the street which nearly surrounded
the foot of the hill. The dagoba domes, the galleries,
and the statues on the summit and on the hillside,
had been similarly adorned with banners and with
flowers.

Small groups of visitors wander about the hill to
look at the preparations, in a variety of costumes which
indicate various ranks and nationalities. There is one
small group standing near the gallery known as the
' Bed of Mahindo,' where the father of Ceylon Buddhism
breathed his last, which attracts our attention. From
the way in which this group is regarded — we might
almost say worshipped — by other visitors to the hill, as
well as by their attire and general bearing, we gather
that it is composed of persons of distinction. One of

ON MIHINTALA 15

them, wlio appears to be altogether a stranger to the
place, is an elderly man of average height, with clearly
cut features, clean shaven, a dark countenance with
bright eyes, and a most intelligent expression. A loose
muslin robe covers the tunic and closely fittiug shirt in
which he is clad. This is Dharma Sen, a visitor of
high rank from India. He is accompanied by Detu,
the royal artist, the king's younger brother, who is
dressed in the heavy fantastic costume of the Sinhalese
nobles.

Within the last few days these two have been re-
newing an acquaintance formed some years ago, when
Detu visited the celebrated ' Deer-park ' monastery at
Sarnath, near Benares, for the purpose of studying the
carving and sculpture for which that monastery had
become famous throughout the Buddhist dominions of
India and Ceylon.

One of the little group is a Buddhist priest.
He would be the first of the three to attract atten-
tion, but we have taken him last because we wish to
describe him more particularly, as he forms one of
the principal personages in this story of the old city.
We may as well say at once that he is its hero.
His figure is tall and commanding. It is a figure
which is strikingly set off by the yellow robe which
indicates the Buddhist mendicant, thrown lightly and
gracefully over the left shoulder, leaving the right
arm free. His head and face are not so completely
shaven as is the general rule with his brethren,
but the hair is closely cut. He is much taller and
of lighter complexion than is usual amongst the
Sinhalese. His eyes are large and often bright
and restless-looking ; and often again they settle into

1 6 ON MIHINTALA

a far-reacliing gaze like that of a stone Buddha in
meditation.

Comparatively young as he is, about thirty, Abhayo
holds a high position in the adjoining monastery, and
is known far and wide as the leading Tliero ' of Mihin-
tala, though much the junior, and therefore inferior in
official rank, to several members of the community.
But he stands high in royal favour because of his
great gifts ; and his reputation with the people as a
preacher is unequalled. But his colleagues shake
their shaven heads when his eloquence is referred to,
and everybody knows that significant shake of the head,
which means a ' but,' and indicates that there is a flaw
somewhere. In this case it means that the character
discussed is singular and — ' bring your ear down ! ' —
' unorthodox.' His colleagues, while acknowledging
his talents, regard him as a man of mysterious habits,
with a conceit acquired in travel, which makes him
dissatisfied with the life of the monastery. They
had begvm to say also amongst themselves that his
travel had given him a want of reverence for sacred
things.

He had travelled as the companion of Detu, the
artist prince, in the journey to India already referred to.
They were fast friends, the prince and the priest,
though as unlike as possible in temperament. Detu's
life was apparently devoted to the purposes of his art,
and was characterised by great calmness. To the
ordinary observer he appeared phlegmatic ; not so to

' This is in Pali the equivalent of Presbyter or Elder. It is
applied to members of the priesthood of a certain standing. Honori-
fics and Sinhalese terms, where they are not really necessary, are
dispensed with, as far as possible, in the story.

ON MIHINTALA 17

his intimate friends, or to his pupils, to whom he volun-
tarily gave lessons in carving in wood and stone, and
who regarded their teacher with enthusiastic admiration.
The prince would appear to a casual observer better
fitted for the passionless repose of the priestly office
than his friend, the impassioned preacher, the restless
monk.

The three stood for a time, looking in silence on
the view which presented itself to their gaze, while
the prince's retinue, composed of Sinhalese men of
high rank, kept at a respectful distance. It was
getting near the time of sunset, and a cool, gentle
breeze shook the garlands of flowers which covered
Mihintala. A magnificent sweep of country lay
before the three friends, comprising the greater part
of the dominion immediately under the rule of King
Meghawarna. It was a vast plain, stretching away
with faint undulations to the sea on the east and
west, and on into the north country as far as the
eye could see. To the south the view was broken
by solitary hills which appeared to be crowned with
rocky fortresses, and then stretched on beyond to the
mountain ranges which marked the hill-country of
Malaya.

' Is it not a splendid vision ? ' said Detu, waving
his hand towards the great city in the west, inter-
spersed with groves and rice-fields, and turning to his
Indian friend.

' It is a splendid vision, as you say. You may well
be proud of such a land as this. Do the people share
your pride in the natural beauty of the land ? '

' I fear not. But some of my pupils are becoming
appreciative. To most of our people, however, if we

1 8 ON MI HI NT ALA

talked in this glowing way of the scenery, we should
be regarded as if describing a dream.'

' And a dream it is,' said the priest, ' and, like a
dream, it may at any moment fade. Let the embank-
ments with which our kings have formed those beautiful
lakes, which shine like inland seas, be broken down, and
what would remain of the picture then ? What would
become of those vast tracts of living green, in the
thousands of rice-fields that we see, on which the peace
and comfort of the village homes which cluster around
the sacred domes depend, as well as the existence of
the city itself? Every day, as I look out on this great
city with its gilded palaces and its immense dagobas,
and down into its busy streets, and then let my
eye wander over that sea of green, dotted with the
white domes, and watch the curling smoke rise
above the forest, I ask myself, ' How long ? ' and in
my dream it dissolves like the cloud yonder, which the
sun is breaking into such glorious fragments, and
the city lies in ruin, and the vast plain is a desolate
solitude.'

As he spoke, his eyes brightened into a look
that was fiery ; when he finished, they settled down
again into the old far-off gaze of the meditating
Buddha.

' We may congratulate ourselves,' said Detu, ' that
the dream is not very likely to be realised. But that
kind of talk is just like our friend. Nothing seems to
satisfy him. Now, I rejoice in the beauty on the
surface of things. This wonderful view of the city and
surrounding country thrills me with delight whenever
I behold it, and I do not feel like thanking my friend
for pointing out the possibilities of decay and destruc-

ON MIHINTALA 19

tion underneath. While I am rejoicing in the beauty
of the countenance, he is saddened with the thought of
the struggles and sorrows of the soul. The thought
of the troubles of the rice-cultivators in the villages
yonder — who, after all, are mostly the serfs of the
Pansala ^ — mars all the enjoyment of the scenery for
him. I suppose it is all right for a priest to have such
views, though very few of his brethren would agree
with him. But I am forgetting that you are not ac-
quainted with the objects of interest to be seen from
here. Let me point them out ! '

' Both Nature and art appear to me alike magnificent
from this point of view,' replied JJharma Sen. ' One
could stand here for ever looking on such a scene as
this. I think I can understand, however, the feeling of
our friend the Thero. Often have I looked in that way
from the towers on the topes of Sarnath, and reflected
on the transitoriness of all things except the eternal
rest. And I have lived to see something like our
friend's dream begin to come over the glories of that
hallowed spot, and the " order " established by the
Vanquisher breaking up under the fierce assaults
of the Brahmans of Benares. But enough of this ;
tell me, prince, what is that stupendous pile yonder
which seems to vie in massiveness with Mihintala
itself?'

' That is the k bhayagiri (the mountain without
fear). The temple near, as well as the dagoba itself,
forms a monument of a king's gratitude. It was built
more than four hundred years ago by Walagam Bahu,
to commemorate the assistance reudered him by the

' Eesidence of Buddhist monks.

B 2

:50 ON MIHINTALA

great priest Tisso in the expulsion of the Malabar in-
vaders. The immense dome which is nearer, flashing
like gold, surmounted by what looks like a spark of
fire, is Ruwanweli, the last work of the great king
Dutugemunu. There, on the platform beneath, the
king was brought out to die, that he might depart
gazing on that great work of his life. It was not com-
plete then, but was made to look complete with a
covering of cloth. The plates of burnished metal have
been laid on in more recent times. The thing which
sparkles like fire at the top is a piece of crystal, placed
there for protection from the fierce lightnings which
sometimes stream over the city in the changes of the
monsoons. Naturally, to me, the most interesting of
the dagobas ^ is the massive one away more to the north
there, the Jetawanarama, built by my father, Maha Sen.
The smaller dagoba, nearly in the centre of the city,
is the oldest, the most beautiful, and most venerated of
all, surrounded as it is with the most hallowed associa-
tions. That is the Thuparama, built more than six
hundred years ago by Devenipiya Tisso, to whose con-
version to the faith of the Buddhas the hill on which
we stand may be regarded as a monument. It was
built to enshrine the sacred relic, the divine collar-bone
of the hoi}* Tathagato.^ It is fitting that the unspeak-
ably precious treasure which the princess has brought
us should find its resting-place near.' ^

' The word ' dagoba ' is derived from DMtu Gabhhaii = a relie
receptacle. For detailed descriptions of the principal dagobas see
Tennent's Ceylon and Burrows's Buried Cities of Ceylon. The Ab-
ha3^agiri dagoba was originally 405 feet high — fifty feet higher than
St. Paul's, London.

-' One of the titles of Buddha.

8 It is said that the sacred tooth-relic, of which the Buddhists in

ON MIHINTALA 21

' Do the people know of the difficulty with which
the treasure was brought? ' inquired Dharma Sen.

' Why, all the city is filled with admiration at the
ingenuity which led the princess to conceal the holy
relic in the luxuriant tresses of her hair. Our poets
are already singing hymns in her praise, as well they
might to one who has come like a bright goddess from
the heaven of Indra, with such blessing to Lanka. ^
Henceforth our country will be envied of all the king-
doms of the earth, for the j)ossession of this treasure,
and the memory of the princess honoured with the
most illustrious names that Anuradhapura has ever
known. But what passes my comprehension is this,
that the Brahmans, who were so anxious to secure the
palladium, should have allowed it to pass so easily out
of their reach. But, of course, they would never have
expected that it would be carried off in that manner.
It must have been a great sacrifice on the part of the
king. It was like taking away the eye of the Kalinga
kingdom.'

' The metaphor is scarcely inappropriate, my lord
prince ; it was the eye-tooth ! ' This was said in Sin-
halese, with a little chuckle, by a stout personage who
had now entered the gallery, and who knew enough of
Pali, the language in which the friends had been talk-
ing, to understand what the prince was saying as he
approached.

' This is Kapuranda, our great astrologer and phy-

Ceylon are so proud, was brought to Anuradhapura early in the
fourth century in the manner indicated in the story. It is not likely,
however, that the present relic in Kandy is the one originally
brought.

' The ancient name for Ceylon.

22 ON MIHINTALA

sician,' said the prince, introducing the new-comer to
his Indian friend. ' You have not seen in all India, I'll
warrant, a greater man of science than he. You would
scarcely think him to be a man who spends his nights
in searching out the mysteries of the stars, and his days
in practising the healing art. His familiarity ' (this in
an aside) ' is the result of high royal favour, which, how-
ever, he has lately lost in great measure through the
influence of the Thero, who has no high opinion of his
honesty,' Then addressing the astrologer, ' But let
me give thee a word of caution, my big man of science,
to speak a little more respectfully of the divine gift
which to-day makes our country the envy of all the
heavens of the gods, especially in the presence of the
Thero.'

The astrologer, who was breathing like a porpoise,
from the difficulty of the ascent, laughed, shaking his
fat sides, in compliment to the prince's allusions to
his great rotundity of person. And then, with a
little leering look towards the priest, putting the
palms of his hands together as if in adoration, re-
plied : ' My lord, the priest will forgive me, I know,
since it is rumoured that he himself does not always
speak with reverence of the holy places and sacred
relics. My lord knows that I am punctual in all the
fasts and observances, and that the feast-days never see
me absent from the reading of the Bana,^ though I am
not a priest.'

The priest appeared to ignore the astrologer's exist-
ence. He had been absorbed in meditation, and had
apparently heard nothing of what was passing. Sud-

' The Buddhist__.Scnptures.

ON MIHINTALA 23

denly he broke out with the exclamation : ' Great
Buddha ! Can it be possible that these vast monuments
of laborious uselessness can appropriately do honour to
such a life as thine ? ' Then, turning to Dharma Sen,
and pointing to the Abhayagiri Dagoba, which, in the
light of the setting sun, threw a great dark shadow over
the city, he said : ' Look at that, the glory of kings, a
dark shadow of death for the people ! The shadow is
significant. That building contains bricks enough to
build a city. The wealth and labour expended on it,
employed in the supply of water, would have made a
nation happy with a more lasting source of joy than
even the possession of the sacred tooth itself. I do
not forget,' he added, ' the works of beneficence wrought
by the late king, thy royal father, prince. Generations
to come will bless his memory for that glorious gift,'
pointing with his long naked right arm to the shining-
expanse of the Mineri Lake in the east, 'when these
immense dagobas are overgrown with forest and trampled
under foot of beasts.'

' He, he, he ! ' chuckled the little fat astrologer,
with a look which said, ' I told you so.'

' You would think my friend was sitting in the ros-
trum of the preaching-hall,' said the prince ; while the
Indian noble appeared to be impressed, and looked as if
he thought it marvellous that a priest should talk in
that strange fashion.

The prince went on describing the most prominent
objects in the city which lay spread out like a map at
their feet — the royal palace with its magnificent halls
and its pleasure-gardens, the palace of the queen, the
royal harem and the beautiful bathing tanks. Palace
after palace and temple after temple were indicated.

24 ON MIHINTALA

and their historical associations recounted. The glit-
tering roof of the lofty Brazen Palace, built by Dutu-
gemunu to contain cells for the accommodation of a thou-
sand priests, shone like a sheet of gold. The sacred
Bo-tree, almost in the middle of the city, from which all
the more important streets appeared to radiate like the
spokes of a wheel from the axle-tree, was of course
pointed out as the central glory of the capital, though
the tree itself was scarcely discernible, but the struc-
tures which constituted, or belonged to, the Maha
Wihara,^ on which the wealth of successive kings had
been lavished, left no doubt as to the position of the
sacred tree.

The description grew vivid, and the speaker's face
glowed with an unwonted enthusiasm as he talked
of monuments which were commemorative of great
national victories. The Elala Dagoba, not far from
the Holy Tree, he said, was a monument which had
been erected to honour the memory of a brave foe
and a magnanimous king. It was on that spot that
Elala, the Damilo chief, was slain in war by Dutuge-
munu, and there the victorious king raised that lofty
pile in honour of his courageous enemy.

' You appear to be full of Dutugemunu here,' said
the visitor. ' He must have been a remarkable man
and a good friend of the faith.'

' None more so in all our history. He built monas-
teries for the priests, of which the Brazen Palace was

' The great temple attached to the sacred Bo-tree. The Bo- or
Boddhi-tree, still living in Anuradhapura — the ' oldest historic tree
in the world ' — grew from a branch of the Peepul {Ficvs religiosa),
tinder which Gautama attained Buddhaship, brought from India to
Ceylon by the sister of Mahindo, and planted by King Pia Tisso
307 B.C.

ON MIHINTALA 27

the largest and finest. And at the '' shout of refection"
thousands of the yellow-robed brethren appeared in
response to the royal invitation to the daily meal. The
rice-fields which you see stretching away into the dim
distance, like seas of vivid green, are the gifts with
which the priesthood has been endowed by pious kings,
and chiefly by the king of whom we have been talking,
whose glory it was to call himself " the slave of the
order." The city itself may be said to have been a gift
to the priesthood.'

' All for the priest and nothing for the people ! '
interjected the Thero.

'At any rate, the Pansalas have no cause of com-
plaint,' was the rejoinder. ' But let me get on with
the description, for the light will soon be gone. It
was Dutugemunu who made the pleasure-gardens on
this side of the city, and set them apart for the service
of the priests.'

The gardens were bright with yellow robes moving
hither and thither over the green sward, and amongst
trees covered with an abundant variety of foliage and
flower. Some of them were ablaze with a crimson
splendour, but the white of the champaka was the most
prevalent colour. And these varied contrasts made the
gardens a striking and beautiful scene to look down
upon in the light of the setting sun.

' Away towards the south, and not far from the
Tissa-wewa, the immense tank which lies there glitter-
ing yonder, beyond the tomb of Elala, you will observe
the towers of the Isuru Muni Wihara, so called from the
Esara Munis' (illustrious ascetics), 'who were fed on
that spot by the pious king Tisso.

' Now look away to the west again, in the direction

28 ON MIHINTALA

of the king's palace. That is the secular quarter of the
city, and there, between that big dagoba and the palace,
you perceive the gleam of the small lake where you
bathed this morning, and near which is the building in
which I have the honour of entertaining you. The
small street away to the north of the lake marks the
place where the community of Western foreigners
resides.'

' I have heard of them,' returned Dharma Sen, ' the
white merchants who are not of our faith. It is a
wonder that the late king tolerated them after his
return to the religion of his fathers. But I presume
they are not like the Wytulians, and are not a source
of danger to the kingdom. I should like to know more
of them.'

' If report speaks truly, the Thero could tell you
much more about them than I can. Hitherto they
have not appeared dangerous, and have confined their
religious practices very much to themselves. Perhaps
the Thero will tell you of them afterwards.'

' You spoke just now of the ancient temple of
Isuru Muni. Is it not somewhere near that famous
spot that the holy sisters live ? ' asked Dharma
Sen.

' Yes. Not far from the temple towers you may
observe a large rock rising out of a small garden, where
it is just possible that you may see figures moving,
which but for their white robes would be invisible.
They are the female recluses to whose use the garden
and the rock-chambers, with certain buildings that can
scarcely be seen now, were devoted by the most
religious monarch whose name I have mentioned so
frequently already.'

ON MIHINTALA 29

' That is to say, Dutugemunu ! " said the Indian
visitor, with a smile. ' Then that is where the princess
is lodged. It will please Aniila well to have such
opportunities of study and research as such a place must
afford.'

' Anula ; what Anula ? ' asked the prince, with
sudden interest. ' Not the beautiful daughter of our
old friend the guardian of the chief temple at
Sarnath ? '

' The same. She was one of our party, and joined
the suite of the princess on the way, at the request of
the princess herself. On her father's death, she made
a vow that she would visit the holiest places in the
south. Admiration has been given her freely in
every place, not only because of the beauty of her
person, but because of the excellent qualities of her
mind, and her devotion to the faith of the great Sakya.'
At Dantapura, where we stayed for a time, she
astonished the royal court and the most learned of the
city by the ease with which she wrote and conversed
in Pali, in matters pertaining to the faith. It was
chiefly through her influence that the princess came,
and the secret mode of conveying the city's chief
treasure was due in great measure to Anula's ready
wit.'

' This is news, friend. I had no knowledge that
you were so accompanied. We have been so full of the
princess that we have overlooked most of her com-
panions. This will be of interest to the Thei'o, who
knew her at Sarnath, as the beautiful girl who could
read the inscriptions on the pillars with which Asoka

' The tribal name of Gautama, the Buddha.

30 ON MIHINTALA

adorned your ancient city. But, after all, of what
interest can such news be for one who has renounced
the world for the ascetic life ? '

A low chuckling laugh from behind, at which the
prince frowned, indicated that the astrologer was still
in the neighbourhood.

The priest looked as if he had heard not, but there
was a faint tremor in his voice as he said, ' Our friend
has not yet seen the statue of the great king Tisso,
nor has he seen the stones on which are engraven the
regulations for " the order." The day will soon have
left the sky, and we should lose no time in seeing that
excellent work of thine, my prince.'

They turned towards the wihara, where, on a great
pedestal of granite, stood the statue of Mahindo's royal
convert, the first of the Anuradhapura kings to walk in
the ' eight-fold way.'

The visitor made a slight motion with his hands as
if of reverence. The astrologer, who still attached
himself to the company, bowed himself before it as
abjectly as the corpulence of his person would permit,
while an expression of disgust flashed into the face of
the priest, as he looked at the little squat figure of the
astrologer in obeisance.

The artist did not expect enthusiastic admiration
from his Indian friend, whose eyes had been accustomed
to the exquisite work in stone with which the temples
and palaces in the kingdom of Benares were decorated,
and he was not disappointed at receiving no rapturous
compliments.

' It is a piece of excellent work,' said Dliarma Sen ;
' but why did you not make it more massive, like your
colossal Buddhas ? '

ON MIHINTALA 3 1

' There was a thought of that when the late king,
Maha Sen, gave the order, and the king would have
wished it so. But it was agreed in council with the
priests that such massive shapes should be reserved for
the Blessed One alone, because the greatness of that
wisdom can only be represented in such greatness of
mass, and but feebly then. It was done in our work-
shops, under my direction, but you know how greatly
I am indebted for whatever skill I possess to what I saw
in India.'

' Your workmen must also be skilful to carve so well
as this.'

' Our workmen, with few exceptions, are from
India. My countrymen, alas ! have but little skill in
the arts. We are indebted for much to India. But
listen ! what is that ? '

It was the shout of praise — ' Sddhu ! Sddhu ! ' rising
from hundreds of voices on the sacred hill. Coming out
of the image-house, the little party found that the sun
had set, and that the pilgrims on the mountain, their
numbers greatly increased, were all gazing intently on
the eastern sky, up into which banners of red light
were apparently streaming, to form the splendid pheno-
menon known as ' Buddha's rays.'

It was witnessed by the crowd with the greatest
enthusiasm, while many bowed before it in the attitude
of worship. And when it was found that at that
auspicious moment a procession of nuns, accompanying
two ladies of the Princess of Kalinga's retinue, on a
visit to the shrine of Mahindo, was ascending the stairs
of Mihintala, the enthusiasm knew no bounds, and the
reverence and praises were diverted from the sudden
glory of the sky to the procession.

ON MIHINTALA

The popular attention was fixed not so much on the
nuns with shaven heads and white robes as on the
two stately figures at the head of the procession, also
clothed in white, but with robes of richer material and
unshaven heads, who carried on trays bedecked with
flowers offerings for the shrine. They were both hand-
some, and formed a striking contrast in personal
appearance to the shaven-headed nuns. One of them
was Anula. The prince recognised her at once. The
priest looked away at the sky, but with an inward
struggle which he managed well to conceal, and then
turned again into the image-house. Her appearance
was such as would rivet the attention of utter strangers,
to say nothing of those who were acquainted with her
qualities of mind. Her head was well shaped and well
carried. The face, statuesque in its lines, with the dark
beauty of her race and country, but without insipidity.
There were dark eyes that could flash into fire at a
word, with a passion which was kept subdued in con-
tinual exercises of devotion.

On reaching the wihara, and having laid their
offerings on the stone altar, the ladies prostrated them-
selves on the ground, pronouncing the three Saranas,'
' I take refuge in the Buddha. I take refuge in the
doctrine. I take refuge in the order.' This done,
Anula, notwithstanding her great self-control, could
scarcely refrain from an exclamation of surprise, as she
recognised in the attendant priest, standing by the
altar, the tall form of Abhayo, immovable and emotion-
less as a statue.

A few brief moments, and the visitors had gone.

' The Buddhist confession of faitli, commonly called the Tim
<Sar«wa, or 'Three Eefuges.'

ON MIHINTALA 33

The priest walked around tlie hill to the rock-cells,
saying to himself, ' It was a necessary penance,' And
as he walked the night fell, and a thousand lamps
seemed to burst into sudden flame all over the hill. It
was the illumination in honour of the sacred relic.

CHAPTER II.

THE WESTEKX FOREIGNERS.

How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land ?

Psalm cxxxvii. 4.

Reference has already been made to the mingling of
nationalities on Mihintala. Not only were various
Buddhist nations represented in Anuradhapura, but the
trade in ivory and precious stones brought to the city
large numbers of the merchants of the West, whose
distinguishing costumes might often be seen in the
principal streets. The majority of them had come
from Alexandria ; and those who, by frequent visits or
long residence, had acquired the language, often dis-
coursed in the houses of the Sinhalese nobles, with a
well-concealed indifference to the gems for which they
were bargaining, of the glories of that queenly city, of
its temples, churches, palaces, and schools, and of the
Museum Avhich made the Brazen Palace of Anuradha-
pura sink into insignificance.

The Sinhalese listener would receive these stories
of the greatness and splendour of the Western city, of
the Pharos, and of the mighty monuments on the
banks of the Nile, with a ' grain of salt.' It was a
traveller's tale, and it had long been an unchangeable
article of faith with him that nothing in the world

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 35

could exceed in magnificence and majesty the vast
buildings and stupendous piles with which Dutuge-
niunu had adorned the mighty city in which he dwelt.
He was not so impressed by the vividness of the de-
scription as to neglect his interest in the bargain. And
we may be sure that the Alexandrian gem merchant
had not altogether lost sight of the thing in hand, while
apparently absorbed in his memories of the wonderful
city which he called ' Home.'

Some of these traders were Jews, who would turn
their faces away, and utter anathemas under their
breath when they passed the statues of Buddha ; or
they would speak with indignation of ' the groves of
Baal ' when they met the pilgrim processions bound for
the ' illustrious Bo.'

Others were Greek Christians, some of whom were
more than tolerant of the idolatry and superstition by
which they were surrounded. Some of them were
more than half pagan themselves, and would often make
their language ' strong,' by mingling the names of the
Grecian gods with the holiest names of the Christian
faith. A few were cosmopolitan in their religious
tastes, believing that all religious systems had a
common basis, and they might be seen worshipping
with the Syrians on the Christian Sabbath, and laying
garlands before the shrine in the lluwanweli image-
house a few days after. This ' universal charity ' might
have been born of cowardice; — it might have been
thought useful in the ' interests of trade,' or it miglit
have been owing to the absence of any real and deep-
seated religious feeling, and often it was undoubtedly
due to the most superficial acquaintance with the re-
liu'ions which were affected.

c 2

36 THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS

But certain it is that their eclecticism gained for
those who professed it great popularity amongst the
Sinhalese, who made much of the foreign converts,
is they called them, from Alexandria, the centre of
Western thought and learning ; and would speak of
their standing in Alexandrian society, and their learn-
ing, in the most exaggerated terms, in order to enhance
the value of the conversion. Looked at from a purely
worldly or business point of view, the eclectic life was
a success. It gave the man who followed it the en-
trance to society which would otherwise be barred to
him, and it also furnished him with splendid oppor-
tunities for the purchase of gems.

Let us follow a young Greek of this class down the
street which leads to the sacred Bo, and on towards the
palace from the Isuru Muni temple, the oldest in the
city.

It is the morning of the day on which our story
opens, and the city is busy with all the excitement of
the occasion. Alypius is in a hurry, an unusual thing
for him, for he glories in being able to maintain an
equable calm, and in never being excited. His figure
is of the average height. He wears a toga fastened
by a brooch evidently of great value, which, with the
jewels which flash on his fingers, may be taken as
indications of some wealth. The toga is thrown back
over the shoulders — exhibiting the neat and closely
fitting tunic underneath — that he may walk the faster.
His face shows that he is in deep thouglit. The face is
undoubtedly Greek, with the straight features which
3haracterise the Grecian statues. The eyes, however,
are too close together, and just now the eyebrows are
owered. The. face and head indicate power, and migjit

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 37

be called handsome but for a certain sinister look about
the eyes, and the fact that he never looks you straight
in the face. There was a lack of sincerity in the
expression even when, as now, he was absorbed in an
unusually exciting vein of thought. It was the look of
a man who could not be sincere, even with himself.

Groups of yellow-robed monks pass him unnoticed.
Small processions conveying distinguished pilgrims
under canopies of white cloth, with all sorts of floral
decorations, are met without the beaming smile of
' universal charity' with which Alypius usually greets
such spectacles. He turns down by a preaching hall —
where yellow robes pass in and out among the great stone
pillars of exquisite workmanship — to be out of the
crowd, when, just as he reaches the Elala Dagoba, he
finds the crowd bigger than ever. Men are clearing
the way with the cracking of long whips, and shouting
the titles of Kirti Sri Meghawarna, the king, who has
been visiting the Thuparama, to worship the sacred
tooth, and is now on his way to the Isuru Muni temple.

There is no help for it, he must stop till the pro-
cession has passed, and very long the time seems to
the impatient Greek. Suddenly the whips stop their
cracking, the bands of music cease, the tomtoms are
hushed, and the shrill pipes are silent. A universal
quiet pervades the crowd as the king's elephant kneels,
and the king, in obedience to the traditional veneration
which the Sinhalese maintain for the memory of the
chivalric chief of the Damilos, walks past the mound
which covers the ashes of Dutugemunu's great foe.
The king, like most great bodies, moves slowly. His
corpulence, which is a great virtue in the eyes of his
subjects, will not admit of haste. The ministers of the

38 THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS

king and the chiefs who follow are nearly as corpulent,
or, if they are not, they try to make up for it in appear-
ance with folds of many yards of muslin about their
waists, which compels them to adopt that undignified
method of locomotion called ' waddling.'

The dark face of Sri Meghawarna is almost as Greek
in its outlines as that of Alypius himself. The young
Greek has often been struck with the similarity of type
in the contour of face which many of the people of this
Eastern land bear to that of the Greek colonists of
Alexandria, and has caught himself wondering some-
times whether they may not be, after all, branches of the
same stock. The crown which rests on the king's head
is not unlike a mitre in shape, broad at the top and
adorned with splendid jewels and a nodding plume.

Alypius bows low to the ground and puts on the
' universal charity ' smile as the king and his ministers
pass, and then he rushes by the tail of the procession
with an imprecation in Greek, stumbling against a
priest, who says laughingly :

' What, my eclectic friend ? You are generally
more careful in picking your way.'

Alypius was about to do reverence, when he saw that
he was standing before the towering form of the Mihin-
tala Thero, whose eyes always appeared to look right
through him, and in whose presence he never felt at
ease.

' I was hurrying to the house of Joseph the Syrian,
when I was met and delayed by the royal procession.
What brings the king and you abroad so early? I
suppose it is this precious tooth.'

' That sneer, Alypius, sits very ill on lips which have
pronounced the " three refuges " at the Dalada shrine.'

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 39

The Greek blushed to the roots of his hair, but
immediately retorted : ' It is not more anomalous than
the There's own frequent visits to the family of the
Syrian disciple of the Nazarene. What would the
fathers and brethren of the sacred college say to that,
my lord ? But my anxiety now is to visit that same
family, which, as the Thero knows, is abundant reason
for anxiety and haste.' And saying this he rushed off,
while the priest walked to the Brazen Palace, into the
great hall of which he passed.

Alypius was not long in reaching the ' foreign
quarter ' of the city where the Christian community
dwelt, and where the merchants of the West chiefly
resided. There was a little church in the centre of this
community, small and insignificant compared with the
splendid temples and mighty piles of the great heathen
city, but it was a most sacred and precious thing to
many of these exiles. That plain building of stone and
mud was very dear to the heart of Joseph the Syrian.
It was suggestive to him of many happy memories and
hallowed associations. He had come, a political exile
from Antioch, with his young wife first to a small colony
of his own people in South India, and then, attracted
by the wonderful stories which had been told him about
Lanka and its jewels, he threw in his lot with a firm of
gem merchants, and settled in the royal city. He had
not been there long before he succeeded, with the help
of his friends, in building a house for the worship of God.
And after a time a presbyter, Thomas, of the Syrian
Church, whom he had known in old days, came to act as
minister to the little community.

The presbyter was a man of great reserve. He was
known to but few beyond the small congregation to

40 THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS

which ho ministered, and they knew him as the ' one-
armed Christian priest.' It was said that by some
accident he had lost his right arm. He never referred
to it himself, and the deftness with which he used his
left hand in turning pages of manuscript seemed to
make the absence of the right scarcely felt. He always
appeared in a long, thin black robe, which covered his
person, with the exception of his long, active left arm.
Though not a very old man, his appearance, with his
loug beard and long hair, was scarcely less venerable
than that of his friend Joseph, who was some few years
older. There were lines in his face that indicated sad
memories and much suffering in his past life ; but with
that past few, if any, were acquainted except his friend
Joseph. And perhaps it was that knowledge which
made the merchant regard the minister with a tender
reverence, given to a life sanctiiied by trials which
were greater than any he himself had been called on to
endure.

All these arrangements for worship were, to the
surprise of Joseph, made without opposition from the
Buddhist authorities. Buddhist princes, in Ceylon at
any rate, have not often been intolerant in regard to
other religions, except when associated in their minds
with political danger. Even through the revolution
which followed the recantation of the Wytulian heresy
by Maha Sen, when the king's zeal was turned against
the heretics, the little Christian community had re-
mained untouched. Perhaps it was too insignificant for
the zeal of the penitent king.

To Joseph the church was a bright bit of home in
the strange heathen land. The plain walls and pierced
windows, without ornament, in order that they might

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 41

emphasise the contrast between the purity and spiritu-
ality of the Christian faith and the idolatry in the
midst of which it was set, as a light in a dark place,
the solemn liturgy set in Scripture phraseology, and
the simple ritual, all lessened the exile bitterness in
Joseph's heart, and made him feel that he was still in
his Father's House. And over the rostrum where the
preacher was wont to sit with the roll of the Gospel
manuscript in his hand, Joseph had given expression
to this thought of home in the Hebrew characters cut
in stone, which formed the word ' Bethel.'

This feeling of attachment to the Bethel had been
strengthened by another tie. Joseph's wife, llachel,
the companion of his exile, had died many years ago,
leaving him a baby-girl to fill the place occupied by
her in his heart and home. The mother was buried in
the little church, just under the sacramental table, and
there Joseph held up the infant daughter to receive
baptism, and he called her name Irene, for he said,
' God hath sent the dove to me in my grief, to tell me
that the world is not destroyed.'

He built his house as near to the church as he pos-
sibly could. There was nothing pretentious about it.
It was a square building of stone, and in that respect
differed from the mud houses of most of his Sinhalese
neighbours. It also differed from them in having a
flat roof, while the Sinhalese houses w^ere thatched.
Joseph used to say in the dry season that he wondered
the people did not see the advantage of the flat roof
and its canopy of plaited leaves ; but in the burst of
the monsoon he would acknowledge that the advantage
was a doubtful one. Like the houses of the better class
amongst the Sinhalese, the buildings connected with it

42 THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS

were arranged in quadrangular form, every room look-
ing into a square which Joseph's Greek and Italian
friends called the atrium. This part of the house was
Irene's delight, and Joseph had gratified her desires to
the full in its adornment. In it she trained with the
utmost care plants of the kinds which flourished in the
land of her fathers, which the gem merchants, out ot
their affection for J osepli and his daughter, had brought
her.

And Joseph would sit in the verandah looking at
the flowers and dreaming of his old home, or he and
his friend Thomas would sit in the hall watching the
lithe and graceful figure of Irene, as she, with the help
of her little Sinhalese maid Kumari, trained the flowers
and tended the birds. Irene was accustomed to say-
that she would not exchange that little spot for all the
palace of the chief queen, with its cool corridors and
its richly sculptured bathing tanks. And Joseph said
that looking there was like being in church, that it
took him altogether away from the hea.then city, and
made him re-live his childhood and youth.

And truly there was not a more beautiful sight in
Anuradhapura, even on that day of magnificent spec-
tacles, than was presented on this morning within the
quadrangle of the house of Joseph the Syrian. Irene,
moving about amidst rare dwarf palms, was assisting
the tendrils of a beautiful passion-flower to grasp the
next highest bar of a trellised arch, unconsciously
showing the full beauty and grace of her figure. Tall
and queenly she looked as she stood there in her simple,
white, loose morning costume, her long black hair folded
and bound up, Grecian fashion, with a fillet of jasmine,
which Kumari had brought her. Kumari stood by her,

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 43

looking with profound admiration on tlie grace and
beauty of lier mistress. This state of mind was almost
chronic with the little Sinhalese maiden. She herself
made an effective contrast. The bright, dark-eyed,
dark-skinned beauty of the girl in her more tightly
fitting Sinhalese dress made an admirable though
not intentional set-off to the beauty of the fair young
Syrian.

Joseph was sitting on his favourite couch in the
verandah, and father and daughter talked, as the
latter attended to the plants nearest to the old man's
seat.

' Do you think, my father, that the Thero is at all
impressed with the truths of our Holy Religion ? His
eyes were filled with tears the other day while Thomas
was reading and you were interpreting the story of
the death and resurrection of Lazarus from the manu-
script of the Holy Gospel by John the Elder.'

' Yes, daughter, I noticed that, and immediately
after it he had that look in his eyes characteristic in
some of his moods which I have never seen in other
men except one, whom I heard when I was a mere
youth in Antioch. He often looked in his excitement
while talking as if his soul had been earned away and
his eyes were trying to follow it, and so sometimes
does our friend the Thero. Of the story of Bethany,
he said, speaking in that absent way : " Great Buddha,
there is nothing in thy life like that. If thou hadst
the sympathy, thou hadst not the power — not the
power." He repeated the last words over and over
again. It was evidently that which had struck him
most in the story.

' On my asking him why he apostrophised Buddha

44 Til^ \VESTlLRN FOREIGNERS

when lie knew him to be in Nirvana, ho replied that it
was a habit which most of them had in their times of
self-forgetfulness. " Does it not seem at such times," ho
went on to say, "as if an instinct compelled us to cry
out to a God somewhere in the universe ? But the
masses of the people never realise the meaning of
Nirvana. Buddha is for them but one of their many
gods. It is difficult, extremely difficult;" and then
ho paused and turned the talk, and asked me if I
had ever heard the story of " Buddha and the mustard
seed." '

' What was it, father mine ? I had left the hall
before that ; tell it me, I pray thee, while I train these
tendrils of the passion-flower. How like poor human
souls they look as they feel about in space for something
to rest upon ! '

' He said that, shortly after Gautama had obtained
the knowledge of deliverance by his long fast under
the tree of wisdom, a young girl, by name Kisagotami,
who had been married to a wealthy man, came to him
one day in great distress. She had one child, but when
the beautiful boy covild run alone he died. Hie young
girl, in her love for it, carried the dead child clasped to
her bosom. She had been directed by a mendicant
who said : " The Buddha can give you medicine ; go to
him." She w^ent to Gautama, and doing homage to
him, said : " Lord and Master, do you know any medicine
that will be good for my child ? " " Yes, I know of
some," said the Teacher. Now it was the custom for
patients or their friends to provide the herbs which the
doctors required, so she asked what herbs he would
want. " I want some mustard seed," he said ; and when
the poor girl eagerly promised to bring some of so

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 45

common a drug, lie added, " You must get it from some
house where no son or husband, or parent or slave, has
died." " Very good," she said, and went to ask for
it, still carrying her dead child with her. The people
said, " Here is mustard seed, take it ; " but when she
asked : " In my friend's house has any son died, or a
husband, or a parent, or slave ? " they answered :
" Lady ! what is this you say ? The living are few, the
dead are many ! " She returned to the Buddha, saying :
" My Lord, I have not found the mustard seed ; the
people tell me that the living are few and the dead are
many." He exhorted her to take comfort from the fact
that she was not alone in her suffering, which she did,
and became a disciple.'

' I can understand how he would contrast the two
stories. He must see that none but a living Saviour
can deliver the world.'

'My daughter, to us it is a marvel that any can
resist the influence of that Gospel which the holy Apostle
Paul said was " the power of God unto salvation to him
that believeth " ; but nothing can be harder than for a
man to cast off the creed of the generations of his
people, of his birth, even though it be the cold, dark
atheism of Gautama. How long have we declared
Jesus in this idolatrous city, and with what results ?
Do not Thomas and I, as we look out from the roof
on their heathen processions as they go to the Idol
tree, ciy with all our hearts : " How long ? Lord !
how long ? " By the way, Prudentius, the Italian
merchant, was telling us yesterday that acts of wor-
ship are being paid now in Christian churches in
Kome to relics which are said to have been miraculously
discovered.'

46 THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS

' Surely that cannot be in a Christian church, my
father ! But were you not saying the other clay that the
natural man is always an idolater ? '

' It is true, my child ; and even with the best — and
God knows that I am not among them — our sacred
places are apt to become idolatrous shrines.' And
Joseph sighed as he thought of the slab under the com-
munion-table in the little church, hoAv he had looked
towards it in his devotions, as if it had been the door of
heaven.

' But about the Tliero, my father ; he is good and
sincere, I know, and will follow the light when he sees
it. He is different from other wearers of the robe, if
one may judge from the stories Kumari sometimes tells
me of them.'

' Yes, child, head and shoulders above them spiritu-
ally as well as physically. He is a great orator, they
say, in his native tongue, and is appointed by roj'al
command to give the address to-morrow night at the
dedication of the new hall in honour of this new objecu
of idolatry, the sacred tooth.'

' How I should like to be there ! Would it be
possible, my father ? '

' Peace be to this house ! ' This was said by the
young Greek gem merchant, who had stood in the
entrance for a few moments in astonishment at the
beauty of the scene.

' And likewise to thee, Alypius,' replied Joseph, rising
to welcome the visitor, while Irene, with a slight incli-
nation of the head, drawing on a veil, went on quietly
with her Avork.

' My daughter and I were just talking of our friend
the Mihintala Thero' (Aly plus's brow darkened), ' and of

THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS 47

the dedication of tlie neAv preaching hall at the king's
palace, in honour of the relic. Thou Avert saying, child,
thou wouldest like to be there ; but knoAvest thou not
that any such act of thine would be construed into a
participation in the sin of idolatry, with which this fair
land is cursed ? '

This AA^as said as much for the benefit of Alypius
as Irene. His ' universal charity ' and ' philosophical
affinities' in religion Avere not at all agreeable to the
Syrian, and often made their intimate business relation-
ships repugnant to him.

' But this is not to be an occasion for the worship
of false gods or relics. If report speaks truly, the
priest has but scant reverence for such things himself.
Kumari says that her mother Avill take me to the part
of the hall which the Avomen occupy.'

' We Avill see, child ; but I like it not. In the
meantime Alypius and I have business of importance
to discuss.'

The men withdreAv to a room Avhich Avas Joseph's
place of business, from Avhence came sounds as of
earnest persuasion on the part of the young Alexandrian,
and opposition on Joseph's part. The young man had
made himself almost indispensable to the old Syrian
merchant, who had trusted the plausible Greek and
had admitted him into the firm of dealers of Avhicli he,
up to that time, had been chief. There Avere many
things in the younger man's character beside his eclec-
ticism AA^iich displeased Joseph, but he had on tAvo or
three occasions rendered important services in busi-
ness, and, in common gratitude, Joseph felt loth to
think evil of him.

If Alypius AA^as sincere anywhere it was in this house.

48 THE WESTERN FOREIGNERS

About the sincerity of his own ardent affection for the
fair daughter of his partner there could be no doubt.
But his love was not returned. His presence chilled
Irene, and his quick perceptions soon discovered that
fact. But he could wait, he said to himself.

CHAPTER in.

IN THE PREACHING HALL.

Earnest among the thoughtless, awake among the sleepers, the
wise man advances like a racer, leaving behind the hack.

BUDDHAGOSHA,

There was a vast crowd gathered that evening at the
new hall. The relic had been exhibited to many thou-
sands of people, and a royal procession had taken the
shrine which was to cover it through the principal
streets of the city and down the sacred way to Mihin-
tala on the previous night. The first Bana-reading in
the new hall lately built by the king, and dedicated to
the tooth, was to be one of the chief events in the cele-
bration of the week. The hall itself was of considerable
dimensions, but it had been made larger by means
of huge verandahs and pandals on wooden pillars,
decorated with a variety of leaves and fruit, and covered
with plaited leaves, so that a multitude of people could
be accommodated, who could look between the elegantly
carved pillars of the hall and see all that passed, if they
were not able to hear all that Avas said.

' The Mihintala Tliero has a voice like a bell,' Irene
heard a Sinhalese man say to his neighbour, as she
passed the outskirts of the crowd with Kumari's

§0 IN THE PREACHING HALL

mother, to a place outside the pillars of the hall, but
near enough to see and hear well, allotted to distin-
guished ladies.

' There is no doubt that we shall be able to
hear him,' responded the other ; ' but the question is
whether wo ought, as good Buddhists, to listen to
what a man has to say who, if rumour may be credited,
has so little reverence for our holy relics and sacred
places.'

' Let us not judge harshly, my friend. The l^ing
and the artist prince favour him, though, it is said,
rather for his skill in speech than for his opinions. He
has travelled much, and he doubtless has seen much in
other religions and peoples that he likes. Our Thero
may be affected somewhat by what he has seen in
foreign lands. On the other hand, look at that Greek
there, pushing his way in at the right. He has
travelled more than the Thero, and knows all the
religions of the world, and yet they say that he has
come to the conclusion that ours is the best, and I
know he has pronounced the ^ refuges," and taken
" Sil." ' •

' People say that he wants to start a new religion,
to be made up of the best in all religions; but look,
there come the priests ! '

A long procession of yellow-robed, shaven-headed
monks entered at the end of the hall, and ranged
themselves on an elevated platform erected for them, so

' The ten silas are ten precepts for rcgnlating the conduct of
BiicMhist priests. The first iive arc binding on all good Buddhists.
These may be observed either for a definite or indefinite time, gain-
ing proportionate merit for the person who observes them, who be-
gins the observance by having the precepts repeated to him by a
priest. This is called ' taking Sil.'

IN THE PREACHING HALL 5 1

tliat none should be above tliem, witli their faces turned
slightly away from that part of the hall set apart for
females. (On such occasions the rule of the order,
that no mendicant may look at the face of a woman,
was strictly observed, though in the streets and in
ordinary life it was not so closely adhered to.) Fore-
most came the old high priest of Thuparama, but con-
spicuously above them all might be seen the Mihintala
Thero.

The Indian visitors, a prince of Kalinga, with
Dharma Sen and others, sat on the left of the platform,
and with them was Detu, who acted as interpreter, when
anything of special importance was said, for the visftors,
who, although they could converse in Pali, of course as
yet knew but little of Sinhalese.

At the back of the hall, on a framework covered
with baked clay, were pictures taken from scenes in
the life of Gautama, painted under the prince's super-
intendence. On the sides of the platform there were
also rude pictures illustrating the Jatakas or Birth-
stories.

Alypius had managed to get very near the platform,
and was engaged in conversation with a priest who
appeared to be an old acquaintance. There was a
cynical sneer on his face, which the priest did not see
as he looked on the pictures, which, it must be confessed,
were but uncouth and rude specimens of art, while he
said in a smooth, laudatory tone : ' It is a wonderful
l^roduction. A^ery realistic indeed, and must have
an effect in educating the people with regard to the
life of the Blessed One. They are beginning to put
pictures, I hear, in our — I mean — in Christian churches
now.'

»2

p m THE PREACHING IT ALL

Detu was not satisfied with the work ; he said to
his Indian friends, half in apology : ' We are not
painters. We do try to execute something worth
looking at in sculpture, but even in that we are far
behind you. It may come to us in time. You will
see that some of the scenes are the carvings in your
temples reproduced from memory. But here comes
my royal brother the king.'

The bands of music were giving vent to their most
deafening sounds as Sri Meghawarna entered the hall,
followed by his ministers and attendant chiefs, with
Sinhalese men of high rank, who carried lamps which
emitted sweet perfumes, holding them down low near
the monarch's feet as he walked. It was an imposing
spectacle. Alypius remarked to his friend the priest
that the whole scene reminded him of the representa-
tions of Egyptian ceremonies which he had seen in
carvings and paintings in some of the old temples and
palaces on the banks of the Nile. In fact, there was
the most striking resemblances between that ancient
faith and that of the last of the Buddhas.

' Is that a bit of your new universal religion ? '
asked the priest.

But all further conversation was stopped. The
king had seated himself on the gorgeous throne-seat,
while all the multitude bowed their heads low in
reverence, and those who could do so on the out-
side prostrated themselves on the ground. The priests
alone stood upright, in token of the supremacy of
the ' order,' to which even kings must bow. Gautama
had taught them that they were not to do reverence to
any mortal ; the caste of Buddhist mendicants was to
be worshipped, even by Brahmans.

IN THE PRE ACHING HALL 53

Soon after the king was seated a young priest went
into the rostrum, and, sitting there with a book of ola
leaves spread before him, read the Buddhist Scriptures
from one of the three Pitakas, which contain the doc-
trines of Gautama.

This ended, the Mihintala Thero came forward.
After a breathless pause, which lasted for a few seconds,
during Avhich he appeared to be in profound meditation,
he chanted a few stanzas of Pali verse. It sounded
like a dirge, a Avail of bitter sadness, as if it contained
the sorrows and disappointments of a life. The voice
was thin and penetrating to begin with. It was
delivered, apparently, with little effort at first, and
there was the far-away look in the speaker's eyes, as
if the king and the multitude were not present, and
the soul were struggling to attain distant heights,
which soon grew into a mighty passion of earnest-
ness.

Irene could not understand the Pali ; indeed, but
few, comparatively, of those present could. She knew
Sinhalese Avell, for Joseph and she had studied it to-
gether, that they might be of service, as he had said, to
the cause of their Lord and ]\Iaster ; but she felt the
struggle and sorrow in the quotations, just as if she
knew every word. Sympathetic natures can often read
without words.

Anula, the Indian lady, had heard the Avords re-
peated a hundred times, but felt that she had never
known them before. Was it possible that there could
be all that suggestion of doubt and disappointment in
them ? Did the Blessed One speak the words with all
that depth of sorrow ? She had been accustomed to
priests who spoke like machines, who always spoke

54 IN THE PREACHING HALL

tlie sacred words mechanically. This was a new ex-
perience. It was a man who felt and thought, and not
a statue. And so she pondered as the Thero left the
Pali to speak in the language of the people, a language
which she as yet could not understand, but which she
determined soon to acquire.

The stanzas repeated by the Thero were the follow-
ing :—

Long have I wanderefl ! long !

Bound by the chain of life,

Through many births :

Seeking thus long in vain,

Whence comes this life in man, his consciousness,

his pain ?
And hard to bear his birth.
When pain and death but lead to birth again.
Found ! It is found !
O Cause of Individuality !
No longer shalt thou make a house for me :
Broken are all thy beams,
Thy ridge-pole shattered :
Into Nirvana now my mind has past :
The end of cravings has been readied at last !

' Thus spake the All-wise, the Blessed One,' he
went on, ' on attaining the knowledge of all things
under the Tree of Wisdom. So he describes his search,
the object of his seeking and struggling, and the victory
gained at last. It is a picture of the hope and the
hopelessness of even what is best in human life. Life
is full of desire, and we are taught that desire is the
curse of existence. The Holy One teaches us to look
forward with hope to the rest of Nirvana, where desire
and life are together extinguished. But in order to
this there must be a repression in our own heart and
life of every wishful thought and feeling. This is the

IN THE PREACHING HALL 55

one great conquest in humanity. The only conquerors
are the Arhats,^ who have overcome desire and con-
quered self. As the hosts of Mara tempted the Lord
of all the worlds, so are we tried by our desires and
passions.' (He pointed to the pictures of the struggle
with Mara, the prince of evil, whose seductive daughters
were represented on the painted clay, as beseeching
Gautama, and trying to allure him Avith their beauty,
away from his quest, and from the throne of his firm
resolve under the sacred Bo.) ' That is the struggle of
life. To resist Mara is to live, nay, to die — for why
should we live ? — and rest for ever. Followers of the
Blessed One, can any life be noble — is it not rather
low and ignominious ? — which is not characterised
by a stern resistance of temptation and of lust? Is
not gratified desire the beginning of disgrace and per-
dition ?

' But how few are the conquerors ! How few are
the delivered ! And what is there in all births and in
all worlds more difiicult than the resistance of desire ?
My brothers, my partners in the evils of existence, be
firm and courageous. Bend not before the assaults
of Mara, yield not to his seductions, and then deliver-
ance and rest must be ours. But I know the cry that
rises at once to your lips, the cry which rises so often
from my own, the cry of the sinning and suffering ones
all over the world : " We are so weak, and the foe is so
strong. Is there none to pity, none to help ? " Be
brave, my brothers, there is pity and help somewhere
in the universe, though the Blessed One has passed
away.' (Some of the priests exchanged glances.) ' We

' Saints who have conquered human passions— ascetics.

56 IN THE PliE ACHING HALL

know not how it will come, but help must come to those
who follow the " eight-fold path.'* ^

' We dare not put ourselves by the side of the '
Tathagato. Look at the history represented there.
No one of us can look at it and say, " It is ours ; I may
become that." You say it may be reached by the accu-
mulation of merit. But what is the merit of all our
births when placed by that of all the lives of the last
of the Buddhas ? Oh, my brothers, the Biiddhas are
far away from us ! There is not one of us but feels
that a great gulf is fixed between them and us, over
which they cannot pass to us, nor we to them. I am
as one standing on the edge looking into that gulf to-
night with straining eyes. Millions of living beings in
the world are doing the same, crying, " How may we
cross to the blessed shore ? " Keep the precepts ! Gain
merit. The Karma ^ of a thousand births, and all in
holy living, will at last be our deliverance. Meanwhile
we wander on these shores in doubt and despair through
repeated transmigrations, as these Jatakas say the
Bodhisatwa ^ did. We have the precepts, and we have
been taught the way. But the way is so difficult, and
we are so weary of it all, so often vanquished by Mara.
And to look at the Buddha, to look at that calm face in
repose, or the uplifted finger of the Great Teacher of

' Thn first of the ' Four Paths ' which summarise the teaching of
the Buddha, consisting of the following eight virtues: (1) Eight
convictions, (2) right emotions, (3) right words, (4) right deeds, (5)
right means of living, (6) right endeavours, (7) right memories,
(8) right meditations.

* Karma or Kamma is the sum of a man's deeds, which, accord-
ing to their Kusal (merit) or Akusal (demerit), determined his con-
dition in the next birth.

^ The title of him who is to become the Buddha.

IN THE PREACHING HALL 57

mankind, is only to remind us of our OAvn weakness
and despair.

' My brothers, we want help. We want help from
outside ourselves. The world in its uiisery is holding
out its hands imploringly into space for help from
without. That is what all this statue and relic Avorship
means. It was never sanctioned by the Blessed One.
That is what all the worship of demons around us
means. That is what this new mixture of Brahmanism
and Buddhism means. It is the Avorld imploring de-
liverance and crying for help from outside its own poor
weak self. And is there none to pity, none to help ?
The imploring world will not believe it. IMen look at
the wonders of the heavens and the earth, they look at
the sun-god, at the star-houses, at the days and the
seasons, and all that is wrought by the great forces of
Nature, and they say, " Will you tell us that there is
nothing behind all that ? Nothing that can help and
save :

' Brothers, the Buddhas that have gone have shown
us the path. We are thankful for that ; but they give
us no help but example. We are thankful for that.
But example is not enough. It will not deliver me
unless I have the power to follow. Look again at these
pictures, and think of the history. Are we of the same
race as the Buddhas ? There is that gulf between us.
Who will save ?

' This is our hope. Think of it. There is a coming
One. He will bring the help that we need. Let us,
while we look at the past — let us, while we look with
reverence, but not worship, at the statues, pictures, and
relics which remind us of the last of the mighty con-
querors of Mara — let us also look forward to the pro-

58 IN THE PRE ACHING HAIL

mised One who shall come amongst ourselves from the
Tusita heaven, and finish the deliverance revealed by him
whose disciples we are.

' Is it not possible that he has already come ?
That somewhere in the vast world the Maitri ' Buddha
hath already appeared to men with manifestations of
that mighty power which alone can save, and that
infinite merit which alone can compensate for all
our demerits ? These, my brothers, are some of
the strugglings of my own mind. Why do I tell
you of this ? Why give you my doubts ? Because I
know that often in some shape or other they are
your doubts also. Because I would not have you
despair. I ask you to look for the coming One.
There is our hope. Let us arise and seek Him, the
greatest of all, the Maitri Buddha, our deliverer, our
friend ! '

The attention of the crowd was riveted on the
speaker, not altogether by what he said. Many of the
audience could hardly follow him in the strife of doubt
and belief to which he had given utterance. There
were some who felt that these were burning words flung
out from a soul on fire with the thought of the mysteries
and destinies of life, and who hailed the gleam of hope
with which the address had been concluded. There
was a responsive flame in their own soul which went
out to that expressed in the words of the impassioned
priest.

• Maitri is the name of the Bodhisatwa who is to be the next
Buddha. It is said that he will come to the world from the Tusita
heaven. Gautama, the Euddha of the present Kalpa (era or dispen-
sation), was preceded by many Buddhas with Kalpas stretching over
incalculable periods of time.

IN THE PRE ACHING HALL 59

But all were deeply impressed with tlie man. His
figure, as he stood on the front of the phitform, was in
the highest degree impressive and commanding. ' It
revives the orations in the Academy,' said Alypius to
his friend. ' I could almost believe that I was listening
to an eloquent Greek in the Alexandrian schools, where
they love, and grow enthusiastic over, themes like that.
And again it was not altogether unlike a Christian
enthusiast, and there was as much Christianity in the
address as Buddhism. You will have to watch your
eloquent brother closely, or you will see him throwing
off his robes some fine day. That was not a bad sug-
gestion, however, about the Maitri Buddha. Is it true
that another Buddha is expected? I never heard of
that before.'

' Quite true,' replied the priest ; ' but our Mihintala
brother is surely wrong about the time. The dispensa-
tion of Gautama is not yet finished, I must look that
up.'

' Well, at any rate, that part of the address
was worth something. The hint may be useful in —
m

' You were going to say in the " new universal
religion ; " but you will not get the preacher to agree
with you there. When I spoke to him about your
scheme the other day, he said he had no faith in any
scheme of the kind which did not proceed from a pure
heart and clean hands. What did he mean, do you
think ? I cannot understand where he picked up his
strange ideas. I am pretty sure he didn't get them in
the Pansala.'

' But I think I could throw a light on it that would
make the brethren of the Pansala stare, and more than

6o IN THE PREACHING HALL

stare. You may be sure of this : that priests do not get
ideas of that kind by adhering strictly to the rules of
tlie " order." But I would not say a word to discredit
his orthodoxy for one moment, especially in the presence
of his brethren. I must not stay. Long life to you \
There is some one that I know.' And the young
Greek edged his way to the place where Irene with
Kumari's mother was trying to emerge from the crowd
of women.

The acclamations which had rent the air at the
conclusion of the discourse had died away, but the
magnetic spell of the speaker's presence and voice still
lingered with the dispersing multitude. The king had
retired at the close of the address. Detu lingered with
the illustrious visitors, and went over again what the
Thero had said for their benefit. He was profoundly
moved by it himself, and therefore repeated it with
much impressiveness. But of them all there was not
one so deeply impressed as Anula. She united the
translation with the voice to which she seemed still to
be listening, A great resolve had taken hold of her.
Her own doubts and struggles had been set before her
in the speaker's words, and henceforth she too would
look for the coming Buddha.

The Greek Alypius accosted Irene, and said in
Greek : ' It is not fit that the daughter of Joseph the
Syrian should mingle with the multitude in the city
with only the Sinhalese nurse to protect her. Let me,
I pray thee, offer my escort, to ensure a safe return to
thy father's house.'

' I have no fear, Alypius. Kumari's father will
j oin us soon, and the distance is not great.'

' But is it not possible that the passions of the mob

IN' THE PREACHING HALL 6f

mfly be t^iikindled by tlie indiscreet tliougli eloquent
address to which we have just listened, that they may
be angry because of its unorthodoxy, and may they not
with some show of truth connect it with the house of
Joseph the Syrian ? I can have nothing but admiration
for the There's profound talents — a little wild and in-
coherent, but very much in earnest. We, at any rate,
ought not to complain of his unorthodoxy. I was
thinking only of the influence of the address on the
populace.'

'The populace will not think of it in that way,
unless some kind friend suggests it. Oh, if I could but
have dared to get up and tell them of One who is mighty
to save ! How cowardly we are ! But the Thero would
not be ashamed of the Lord Jesus if he knew
Him. Thou seest we can have no need of thy escort,
Alypius.'

And with that the Greek left, muttering maledictions
on his luck, as he called it, but immediately comforting
himself with the saying, ' The time will come when it
shall be different.' He paused, hesitating as to the
direction he should take, then, having come to a
decision, walked briskly down an unfrequented street,
saying under his breath : ' Ah yes, I will go to my
friend the astrologer.'

Irene went home, thinking of the There's burning
words and the struggles of his soul, and thinking also
that perhaps none in the vast assembly understood the
eloquent priest as well as. she did.

There was another lady who went away with lier
party having her mind occupied with similar thoughts.
It was Anula ; she could understand him, she said to
herself, although she knew scarcely a word except what

62 IN THE PREACHING HALL

was uttered in the introductory stanzas. And then she
turned to her Sinhalese friends, to make inquiries con-
cerning the fair girl whose beauty was discernible even
through her veil, and who had listened to the Thero's
discourse with such rapt attention.

CHAPTER IV.

AT THE astrologer's.
A thing of dark imaginings. — Byron.

The Greek hurried with quick steps down the River
Street, one of the minor streets leading to one of the
numerous ferries by which the Malwatteoya — the river
on which the city was situated — was crossed. Half way
between the Ruwanweli temple and the river, he stopped
before a high wall surrounding a large court, within
which was a temple which in its construction was very
unlike the ordinary wiharas of Anuradhapura. The
architecture would indicate at a glance its connection
with Hinduism, to say nothing of the images within
of Hindu deities, which held their own with repre-
sentations of Gautama. The religious observances
at the temple formed a strange mixture of Bud-
dhism and Hinduism, and attracted large numbers
of the Damilos,' who formed the chief proportion of
the artisan class in the city, as well as those who were
still attached to the "Wytulian doctrine, the heresy

' Ceylon was invaded early in Sinhalese history by the Damilos
(Tamils) irom Southern Indii.

64 ^T THE ASTROLOGER'S

encouraged by King Maha Sen in the early part of
his reign. There were but few temples in Anurad-
hapura that were more popular than the Khandaraja
into the spacious court of which Alypius now entered.
The heretical monastery connected with it had been
suppressed on the return of Maha Sen to the faith of
his forefathers, and the tall structure in which the
priests had made their home had been given by him to
the court astrologer as a reward for some successful
divination.

A new residence had been built for the priests since
Maha Sen's death, but the old monastery, built in imi-
tation of the Brazen Palace, broad at the base and
gradually diminishing towards the top of the five-storied
building, was in the possession of the chief astrologer
of the court, the son of Maha Sen's favourite. It had
been much altered since the time of its erection, to suit
the purposes of the astrologer. The highest story but
one, which had been the residence of the chief priest,
was now the hall of ' mystery,' and was regarded with
the profoundest awe by the populace, who would bind
their charms on more tightly and mutter the ' refuges,'
as they beheld strange lights flashing through the little
wooden windows at night, or listened to the peculiar
noises, sometimes like thunder, that issued from the
astrologer's tower, which nobody doubted were the
voices of the demons in conversation with the wizard.
Above this was a room only half covered by roof, where
the astrologer was supposed to read the signs in the
heavens. There were but few places more popular
during the daytime than this, which was really the
centre of the religious life of the lower classes, and a
not infrequent resort of priests and nobles, and there

AT THE ASTROLOGER'S 65

was not a place in the city more generally avoided by
niglit.

It was evidently not the first nocturnal visit that
had been paid to the astrologer by Alypius. The servant
who lay sleeping at the principal entrance, and who was
wakened with much difficulty, recognised in the visitor,
as soon as he could open his eyes, an old acquaintance
of his master.

The Greek, not wishing to attract attention by
shouting or clapping his hands, the usual method of
announcing oneself, had rolled the sleeper over, as if he
had been a log, with his feet. But, like a log, the porter
remained at his post, with an occasional snort as the only
evidence of life. Then the visitor laid hold of him by
the long black hair which was hanging loosely over his
shoulder. This at last had the desired effect. ' Kiri
Banda,' said Alypius. ' Give me thanks ! I have pulled
thee back from Nirvana by the hair of the head. That
woman's hair of thine is worth something after all.
Thou wert going off to the eternal sleep too soon, my
friend. Thy Karma is not yet worked out. Where is
thy master ? '

Kiri Banda stood rubbing his eyes, muttering
plagues on the visitor with his ' Kai-mas' and 'Nirvanas,'
and then said deferentially, ' ]\Iy lord will find him in
the upper chamber pursuing his divine calling. I heard
him talking with the Dew as a short time since. My
lord knows the way,' directing the Greek to a little
stone staircase, where a small brass lamp with a float-
ing wick was burning. Up went Alypius, and as he
went a loud snoring became more and more distinct.
'Aha!' said he to himself, 'this is the talk with the
gods heard by my good friend below. By my faith

66 AT THE ASTROLOGER'S

(which faith ?), the conversation is very one-sided, and
is sufficiently sonorous for all the gods in the Pantheon
to hear.'

The astrologer's sleep was not so profound as that
of his servant. Before the Greek had reached the hall
of mystery the sound had ceased ; a little chuckling
laugh greeted him at the door and gave him a welcome.
The fat figure of the little astrologer assumed an enor-
mous rotundity as seen in the dim ghastly light shed
from a small lamp which was fed by some chemically
prepared oil, which lamp was, of course, a part of the
magical apparatus with which the man of science sur-
rounded himself. The walls of the room were adorned
with rough paintings of the ' Star-houses,' and ola
leaves on which various horoscopes were marked.
Everything was arranged to make an impression.
Human skulls and the skulls of animals, including
the skull of a mighty elephant, formed a horrible
pyramid on one side of the room, and a collection of
masks more horrible still, used in demon ceremonies,
was piled up on the other side. Serpents (their fangs
extracted) of the most loathsome appearance crawled
about the skulls, and a huge, detestable-looking Ka-
baragoya (like a small crocodile), ugly enough in the
daylight, uglier still in the dim magic light of the
astrologer's hall, lay motionless near the masks, ready
to be cut in pieces for the most precious charms and
incantations.

The eye of the Greek took in all this at a glance.
Few people would dare enter such a place, but Alypius
was one of the initiated, and was but little impressed,
except with the thought of the effect all the room would
probably have on the ignorant. He was most impressed

AT THE ASTROLOGER'S 67

with the small glittering eyes of the master of this
temple of horrors, who stood in the centre of the hall
motioning him to be seated on a roughly-made couch
over which a leopard skin had been thrown.

' I had the utmost difficulty to waken that slave of
thine. He had gone to Nirvana, and I had at last to
drag him out by the hair of the head. He told me that
his master was conversing with the gods. I heard the
conversation as I came ; pray let me not interrupt so
sacred a communion.'

' He, he ! ' laughed the astrologer, ' we were not ex-
pecting to be honoured with a visit from the learned
Greek to-night. I have an engagement at midnight,
but before that we expected everybody to be at
the great function in the new preaching hall. My
honoured guest has just come from there, and would
have preferred to have gone in another direction
than this with fairer company, but the company was
not so pleased with the idea of such companionship as I
am, eh ? '

' Now come, my friend, let there be no attempting
to impose on me with your magic. That line does not
accord well with such a corpulent figure as thine. It
does very well for the crowd, but we are behind the
scenes now. Let us talk like reasonable men. I have
no doubt that you got to know from Kiri Banda that
his brother and brother's wife were going to accompany
the daughter of Joseph the Syrian to the ceremony, and
you guessed the rest, and it was not a bad guess after
all. I saw that thou wert not present to do worship to
thy dear friend the Mihintala Tliero, and therefore I
sought thee here.'

' He, he ! thou knowest how dearly I love him ! My

68 AT THE ASTROLOGER'S

affection almost equals thine own. What sort of an
impression did he make ? That is the man for your
new religion, my friend.'

' Ah, if we could but persuade him,' replied Alypius,
in sanctimonious tones, ' of its value and its beauty,
and if we could but persuade him of our passionate
affection for him personally, and all that concerns his
welfare, our cause would be gained. But of this, judg-
ing from his manner, he seems to have no perception
as yet.'

'He, he!'

' He has great influence, though. His preaching
to-night took amazingly with the people, who cannot
understand his heresies. And it would be difficult even
for the priests to entrap him. He managed it cleverly
to-night by introducing the Maitri Buddha.'

' He, he ! And is he the Maitri Buddha ? He
will forestall thee yet, Alypius, with that new all-
embracing religion of thine. If he can persuade the
people that the Buddhist chronology is wrong, and
that he is the Buddha to come, it will not be difficult
to get himself recognised as the successor of the holy
Gautama.'

' By Jove ! — I mean by the sacred person of
Tathagato — it is a good idea, and we, who are so very
fond of him, might persuade him to take up that role
of the leader of the new Gra3C0-Brahman-Buddhistic
faith, the religion of the future.'

' He, he ! but that might be only securing him
greater influence than ever. It is just as likely as not
that the people would accept him in that capacity ; not,
of course, but that we should rejoice all the more on
that account.'

AT THE ASTROLOGER'S 69

' Is it true that his resplendent majesty the king
lavishes favours on him ? '

' True enough that he is in high favour just now,
and that I am out of favour somewhat. And my
position is due to the Thero's interference with my busi-
ness ; he has had the hardihood to suggest doubts
to my royal master as to the honesty of some of
my experiments. I brought the king a message from
the Maha Sen, who is now in the heaven of the gods,
directing him to proceed in battle against the kingdom
of Ruhuna.'

' And didst go thyself for the message, my volatile
friend ? It would have been worth the king's great
sapphire to have seen thee flying through the air. But
was that all the message ? '

' No ; it told him that the most splendid possession
in the universe would soon be conveyed to Lanka, and
that its arrival should be the sign of the authenticity of
the message. It was a long message ; it went on to
say that Sri Meghawarna was to signalise the event by
destroying all the heretics now under the canopy of his
dominions, that but for his own (Maha Sen's) heresy he
would have acquired merit enough to have carried him
to Nirvana, but that black past prevented his progress.
The message concluded with an exhortation to the king
to profit by his father's errors.'

' An elaborate message, truly, and a most worthy
messenger, my Sinhalese Mercury. We will have thy
statue made — nay, we will embalm thee and put thee
beside the glorious Greek divinity who was the mes-
senger of the gods. One word more : did the Thu-
parama priest know of thy aerial flight ? '

' He, he ! Since I have gone so far, I may as well

70 AT THE ASTROLOGER'S

tell all, especially as I know full well that it will not
be to your interest any more than mine to disclose it.
The chief priest of Thuparama is jealous of the Mihintala
Thero, and he is, besides, angry with him for his heretical
views.'

' Ah, ah ! I see ! The old Thero is for war and
extermination, and extending the " canopy of dominion,"
which will mean new endowments for the favourite
temple, and at the same time he would strike a blow at
the heretic priest. It was well put that, and worthy
of the gods. I shall address his reverence when I next
see him with the titles belonging to his new godship
Maha Sen. But why select such a messenger ? I
mean no offence, my worthy friend ; it may be the
popular worship of fatness, but our Western ideas of such
functionaries are not of that kind. Why didn't the
priest do it himself? He understands the mysteries
of Arhatship.'

' That would not have succeeded. He believes in
them, but does not understand. And it is no irreve-
rence to say that the king is not overburdened with
genius ; but he would have suspected the Thero of some
sinister design, and so it was thought it had better be
done by a poor artless astrologer, who could have no
purpose but the king's weal. I fell into a trance, in
which state I lay for some hours, during which time I
journeyed in my ^ethereal body — you may laugh, but it
was you and Leah the Jewess who taught me how to
do it, and the beauty and grace of that body of mine,
my jewel of gem-merchants, might not be unfit to place
beside your Mercuries and Apollos. I declare I am
getting quite vain of it.'

' Well, that is a result of the new religion that I did

AT THE ASTROLOGER'S 71

not anticipate ; but there is au advantage in that. It
promises beautiful compensations. All men and women
are vain, and the majority of them are ugly. Well, my
ethereal Apollo, never mind the journey and the gods
who were all dazzled with thy wondrous beauty. Come
down to this world again — how was the message
received ? '

' Why, when I became conscious, I found that the
ola on which the message was written had been trans-
ferred from the hand of my gethereal body to that of the
corporeal, which, after I had prostrated myself before
his majesty, was handed to him by the chief Adigar.
It made a deep impression. The king put me questions
concerning my journey and the Dewa Loka.^ He is
against war, as you know. The spirit of the old con-
querors is not in him. I can sympathise with him. I
am not a fighting man myself, that is, in this body, but
I make up for it — such are the blessed compensations of
our religion — by being a warrior of undaunted courage
in the other.'

'Thoii takest most readily, my ugly-beautiful
cowardly-courageous friend, to the new-old Buddhism.
I presume it is this duality which makes thee so
discursive. Come to the point, friend. War with
Ruhuna^ would suit me well. Gems would be more
plentiful in Anuradhapura. But the other part of the
message would not suit me — at least, it would not suit

' One of the Buddhist heavens — the heaven of the gods.

"^ Ceylon was divided in ancient times geographically into three
parts : Pihiti Rata (corresponding to the modern Western, North-
Western, North -Central, and Northern Provinces) ; Euhuna (corre-
sponding to the Southern and Eastern, with a large part of Lower
Uva) ; while the Maya Rata, embracing the greater part of Malaya
or the hill-country, lay between.

7i? AT THE ASTROLOGER'S

some of my friends. And I am not sorry that the
scheme — I mean — the message of the gods — was not
well received. But how did it come about ? '

' A council was called to consider the message. In
it were the Theros of Thuparama and Mihintala. The
latter took the leaf and examined it closely. I could
see a look in those eyes of his which boded no good for
me. In short, somebody betrayed me, and that some-
body shall suffer, if I can ever discover him. It is a
pity these sethereal bodies cannot help us in extremities
of this kind, he, he ! '

' I know the rest — so the leaf was marked, and
Abhayo Thero knew all about it, and declared that it
was a disgrace to the faith of the holy Gautama, and a
wrong to the memory of the king Maha Sen, and thou
wert near losing the use of thy corporeal body altogether.
Would that be a misfortune ? '

' Well, I don't want to part with it yet, but I should
probably have been compelled to, if Thuparama had not
come to my rescue. He said that it was good and
orthodox Buddhism, and he gave instances of such
messages in the utterance of the Blessed One as well as
in the narratives of holy Bhikshus, his disciples, who
possessed the power of travelling through the air. He
showed that it was extremely likely that in the process
of transference from the gethereal to the corporeal body,
the wicked demons, who were always warring against
the gods, changed the leaf, in order that the good cause
might suffer. Sri Meghawarna is easily persuaded. At
any rate, I brought off my corporeal body safely. Though
I must say the king regards me with suspicion at
present ; but my turn will come. A court astrologer may
enter the king's favour by many avenues. The priest

AT THE ASTROLOGER'S 73

denied having marked the leaf himself, and that made
it all the easier to believe that it was the work of the
demons. But listen ! The great procession has com-
menced its march ; let us go up to the tower to look
at it ! '

CHAPTER V.

THE JEWESS.

Black spirits and white,
Ked spirits and grey :
Mingle, mingle, mingle ;
You that mingle may.

Shakspere, Macbeth.

It was the niglit of tlie full moon, and, looked at from
the astrologer's tower, the view of the city was weird
and impressive. The stupendous piles of brick which
formed the temples looked more immense still in the
magic light which flooded the vast plain. Their great
white and gilded domes rising above the palms looked
as if they belonged to some magnificent city of dreams.
The statues on the gallery of the Ruwanweli came out
in bold relief. The king's palace and the bathing tanks
were illuminated with thousands of small lamps, which
looked like stars from the point of view occupied by the
Greek and the astrologer. The lines of the streets were
made clearly visible by the illuminations, especially in
the streets through which the Perahera • was exj)ected
to pass.

The procession had just started from the Thuparama

' Procession. At the annual iicraliera in Kandy, the shrine of
Tooth is carried at the head of the procession.

THE JEWESS 77

temple when the two meu looked out from the tower.
They could see the dark, massive figures of the elephants,
headed by the monster just presented by the king to
the service of the Dalada shrine, as the torches were
carried in the direction of the sacred Bo. They could
also see the mighty creatures, a hundred or more, kneel
in obeisance, as they drew near the foot of the tree,
while the air was rent with cries of ' Sddhii ! '

The occasional glimpse of grotesque figures on stilts,
and the waving of torches, with the dancing and drum-
ming of the demon-priests, all tended to make a weird
and unearthly spectacle.

They watched the distant procession as it passed
through the principal streets. At last the astrologer
said : ' Let us go below again. It will be hours yet
before the procession passes down this street on the
way to the great ceremony of " cutting the water."
Besides, if I mistake not those sounds below, my visitor
has arrived. Did I tell you that I expected Leah, the
Jewess ? Does she not claim with you some active
part in the foundation of this new religion of ours ? '

Kiri Banda had evidently fallen asleep again, and
required a great deal of rousing before he could be got
on his feet. This time the visitor had come by another
entrance, a smaller door opening from another street?
and communicating directly with the house of the
astrologer. The dogs had howled their loudest at the
appearance of Leah's veiled figure, but the sight of a
stout stick which she carried to walk with made them
do their howling at a respectful distance. They were
wide awake, thanks to the moonlight and the proces-
sional music in the distance.

This visitor was also evidently known to Kiri Banda.

78 THE JEWESS

He did not give her a hearty welcome, but that might
be because he disliked being disturbed in his sleep.

' faithful servant, to resist the temptations of the
street on such a night as this. Wherefore art not with
the giddy multitude? I knew the Sinhalese could
sleep, but I never before found one strong enough to resist
the attraction of a procession. But I am glad thou art
here to let me in. Show me thy master ! ' All this
was said in broken Sinhalese, but was well understood
by the porter. Kiri Banda pointed surlily to the stair-
case, and muttered under his breath : ' I should have
liked well enough to have been at the procession with
my brother and his family, though there is a lot of
foolishness in it ; but when there are people like your
ladyship and that Greek about, I think it may be worth
while to stay here, and I may not be quite so sleepy as
you imagine.'

Before the servant had repeated this long sentence
to himself, the visitor had reached the Hall of Mystery,
where she was received with most profuse expressions
of welcome from the astrologer.

' A long life to you, pearl of wise women ! he-he-he !
a thousand welcomes to this poor temple of science ! '

Leah threw aside her veil and revealed her face more
fully. It was undoubtedly a Jewish face. It was the
face of a woman on good terms with herself. She was
not, and probably never had been beautiful, though it
was possible that in her younger days she might have
been attractive. Her head was set well on a good
figure. Her eyes were not unlike the astrologer's,
small, black and bright, and also restless. The expres-
sion on her face was agreeable, and her voice was
melodious. She rarely failed to give a favourable first

The JEWESS 79

impression. Her age might be reasonably judged to be
about fifty, though her travels and a long residence in
tropical countries perhaps made her look older than she
really was.

Her life had been one of adventure. She was
reputed to be a widow, and as such allowed herself to
be addressed, but nobody in Anuradhapura knew any-
thing of her deceased husband, who was rumoured to
have died in Alexandria, or, indeed, of her former life,
except that the gem merchants, in whose company she
had come to the capital of Ceylon, had intimated that
her antecedents were of a somewhat doubtful character.
Something was said about her having tried to revive
the worship of Isis and connect it with Christianity, in
Alexandria, and of her having professed to unravel the
mystery of the Sphinx. For a time, so the rumour
said, she had a large following in the great city of the
West, her popularity being chiefly dne to conjuring or,
as the ignorant believed, miracle-working.

An attempt, however, to impose on a Christian
bishop brought down on her head the thunders of the
Church. The Church officials had no love for her as a
Jewess by descent, and were highly indignant at her
attempted revival of heathenism. Her complicity in a
political intrigue, it was said, an intrigue which proved
a failure, brought her life into imminent danger. She
escaped from the city, her admirers said in a miraculous
manner, and her enemies that she had been assisted
by persons in authority who had been deluded by her
teaching. All this may have been mere conjecture.
The merchants said that she certainly did not bear the
name of the Alexandrian unfolder of the mysteries of
Isis. They did not know her religion, although she

So THE JEWESS

was SO clearly of Jewish descent. She was mysterious,
and they did not trouble themselves about religious
mysteries. But she was a clever talker, and seemed to
like talking with men and affecting masculine manners.
They had gathered that she had come to Ceylon in
search of some wonderful jewel, mentioned in the history
of her people, but with that they had not troubled
themselves. She was altogether a very agreeable
woman, they said, and an excellent judge of gems, and
that was enough for them.

She had been in Anuradhajjura for a year or more,
and during that time had ingratiated herself with some
of the most important persons in the city, both in the
priesthood and among the laity. Of the former, one
of her most devoted adherents was the high priest of
Thuparama, and among the latter it was said that Detu,
the artist prince, might be reckoned among her dis-
ciples, although he had made no 0]3en avowal of it, and
shrank as yet from any public identification of himself
with the new doctrines proclaimed by the Jewess and
her coadjutor, the Greek Alypius. It was no secret,
however, that Leah had managed to secure the favour
of the queen and other ladies of the royal household.

It was true that she had managed this chiefly by
her public declaration of faith in Buddhism, and this
was the excuse of the old priest of the Thuparama
temple, when asked whether he thought it right that so
prominent a member of the monastic order should be
led by a woman. He said it was not the first time
that women had rendered assistance to the great society
founded by the Buddha. He welcomed Leah all the
more, because she was a foreigner, and had been trained
in a religion so arrogant and hostile. It was an indi-

THE JEWESS 8l

cation of the universality which was destined for the
religion of the Buddhas.

Leah had made her confession and accepted the
' refuges ' in the presence of the old man and a large
n'lmber of the yellow-robed monks. She had also
given an address, which was interpreted to the congre-
gation by Alypius, expressive of her dissatisfaction with
the religion of her childhood and youth. She extolled
Gautama as the grandest example of humanity that
had ever existed in the world ; and in the course of
her address managed to attribute to the founder of
Buddhism sayings which he had never uttered, and to
show a very confused knowledge of the faith she had
embraced. With the utmost dexterity, however, she
was able to persuade her hearers that she had long
been a good Buddhist, though under another name ;
and before she had finished she had more than half
persuaded them that they themselves were only half-
hearted disciples of Buddha, that they had lost the
knowledge and power which characterised the faith and
the order in earlier times, and that she was born to
bring them into the right path.

Alypius in a short address eulogised the lady as
a benefactress of her race. He spoke of her self-denial
as worthy of a disciple of Gautama, and said that she
was in constant communion with the holiest and most
zealous beings in other worlds. This was the first
public announcement of the new religion. The meet-
ing at the astrologer's took place not long after that
event.

Leah expressed her delight at meeting the Greek
in the Hall of Mystery. The language would now
present no difficulty. Slie would have found it slow

82 THE JE WESS

work and uncertain, conversing with the man of science
in his native tongue. The Jewess was quite at home
in the Hall of Myster}^ It was not the first time she
had been there, and the astrologer evidently regarded
her as an adept in his own science. He had been con-
sulted by her originally with regard to a tradition
which said that a celebrated sapphire in the possession
of the king had been taken from the head of a cobra.
Alypius paid her, apparently, the utmost deference.
That is, apparently to the astrologer. If he could have
understood the little ' asides ' in Greek which passed
between the two, he might have thought otherwise.

' I told you, my scientific friend, that I wanted a
talk with you to-night about the best means of spread-
ing our views, and I am glad of the presence of this
learned Greek. It could not have turned out better.
We are a goodly triumvirate. Why should we not be
the standing inner council of the new organisation ?
It need not be divulged, but we know each other pretty
well, and we know what it all means, and we shall pro-
bably be of great use, nay of absolute necessity to each
other. Let us call ourselves the directors at once.
That will be so much accomplished. My dear astro-
loger, you can render us most valuable service, though
it will be premature to announce you to the public as
director. What do you say now ? '

' He-he-he ! ' chuckled the astrologer.

' But first,' continued the lady, ' let me ask whether
there is any probability of our being overheard. I
selected this time because I thought we should be
secure from interruption. What about the servant
below ? '

' As to Kiri Ban,da, I can vouch for it that he is

THE JEWESS S3

sleeping souutlly and dreaming of the delightful curry
he means to make for himself to-morrow. Listen, and
you can hear him now — conversing with the gods, eh,
astrologer ? ' replied the Greek,

In the pause which followed, clear indications of
Kiri Banda's somnolence came up the staircase.

' H'm, it sounds near, but the Sinhalese snore well,
I know. I was going to say that we have already
made a favourable impression on the populace. And
we have committed ourselves so far that we cannot go
back even if we wished ; but my main object in coming-
to-night was to secure the astrologer's assistance in a
scheme which shall gain unbounded favour not only
with the masses, but with the nobility, and even with
the priesthood itself. I had intended coming at once
to thee, Alypius, after seeing the astrologer, but it is
better, after all, that thou shouldest be here. Did the
astrologer invite thee ? '

' Nay, I had been to the great function at the open-
ing of the new hall, and had had enough of tall-talk to
last lue for a lifetime, and so came on here for a chat
with our friend.'

' I was there. We have not done with our tall-
talker. Did it occur to thee that he might be made
useful to the cause ? '

' That is what we have just been saying. If we
could only get him to believe that he is the Buddha of
the new dispensation, it would be a great gain. The
people would not believe in it, perhaps, and the priests
would see that there was something wrong in the
chronology. At any rate, it would be a stern opponent
got out of the way. But I have been doubting, since
\\\fy astrologer and I talked of it, whether we could

84 THE JEWESS

induce liim to put himself in such a position. He is
not a fool by any means.'

' There, you mistake, my friend ; all men are fools
enough to think well of themselves. And if you are
to undermine the damaging influence of the Thero, it
must be through his self-conceit. Introduce me to
him, and see whether I cannot manipulate him.'

* Remember the bishop.'

' Ah, thou knowest that story ; I trust nobody else
in this city knows it. This is a different case alto-
gether. Anuradhapura is not Alexandria, not quite,
yet ! It is all very fine, and very useful to us, to talk
of the wisdom of the East, and bow before the name of
the all-wise Gautama, but the work of fooling seems
to me easier here than in any city or town I have yet
visited, and I have seen a good many.'

' It is true, the people who could take in those ad-
dresses of thine can swallow a great deal. They have
been prepared for the process, however, by their priests.
But we shall find some, if I mistake not, who will not
take to it so kindly.'

' That will depend on how we work them. Our
friend here, the astrologer, is not to be classed among
the big-throated majority, at any rate.' And Leah
turned to their host with a compliment on his keen
perceptions.

' He ! he ! ' responded the man of science.

' That is because his whole life has been spent in
practising on that majority,' said Alypius, ' and in
widening that swallow of theirs. The bi'eath of his
being depends on it. But what is this new scheme ?
jJnfold, and I will translate.'

' Briefly, it is this. We are already known to be

THE JEIVESS Ss

in coiTesponclence with the great spirits of the higher
workls. We move amongst them in our sethereal bodies.
Now what I propose is that we establish a shrine in the
city where one of these " okl masters " may be regularly
consulted by those who enrol themselves as disciples of
this new-old faith. It may be new in this form, but it
is old enough for all that — old as the hills, old as our
astrological friend's science.'

' Old as the art of fooling,' interpolated the Greek.
' I thought you said you would be brief. Sometimes I
think that want of brevity in talk is thy only womanly
characteristic'

' I could be brief enough if it were not for thy rude
interruptions, Alypius. Now my design is this : that a
shrine be formed in a remote part of the city. This
neighbourhood would do very well, but the astrologer
would j)erhaps be suspected of having a hand in it, and
the associations might not be suitable, and I propose
that the " great spirits " should be consulted at the
shrine by good Buddhists, and by the disciples of the
new faith generally. I have said "great spirits," but it
will be better if we have one mysterious, invisible head
and teacher, whose earthly home will be the place we
may decide on.'

' That is not at all a bad idea. There is nothing
like a bit of mystery for attracting the people. The
more mysterious the better. That invisible teacher
will take, no doubt of it. But there must be some
visible manifestation of his presence ; and how will he
communicate with the outside world ? Like the " great
spirits " we have already been in communion with, I
presume. By the sacred Bo-tree, I am beginning to
believe in him already ! By what name is he to be

S6 THE JEWESS

known among men ? Will it be something Judaic
from the fertile brain of this daughter of Abraham ?
Will it be selected from Greek mythology? from the
Brahman scriptures, or from Buddhist metaphysics ? '

' The name is a matter of importance. I have
thought of that. At first I thought of something
supremely ridiculous ; but that would only frustrate our
jourpose. Then I thought of modifying the name of
one of the most credulous of our new disciples.'

' I know ; you mean the Adigar Lihinichargaya.^
Yes, but that is too long, and could not be very well
adapted. Let us have something short and to the
point.'

' Well, this is what I propose, as suggestive of his
high office : Samarga Karanna, the reconciler. You
see, we want to take in followers of all religions. It
will bo hard for anybody to find anything in Samarga
to differ from. He is the most liberal-minded creature
in the world. His arms are wide enough to embrace
all. But his fists will tell heavily on those who are
unreasonable enough to oppose him.'

' I see ; you will leave small room for difference, but
woe will descend on those who differ. Your acquaint-
ance with the Gnostics is bringing forth fruit here.
" The Reconciler" is an old friend in new surroundings.
Buddhism has always struck me as being comprehen-
sive enough, but Samarga will be more liberal still.
Unless I am greatly mistaken, however, we shall find
considerable difficulty in making Christianity and
Buddhism embrace each other before the shrine of our
great invisible teacher. Joseph the Syrian and Thomas
the Presbyter are not unacquainted Avith the Gnostics.
' Minister of State.

THE JEWESS 87

We must take care not to follow that school too closely.
You have burnt your fingers sufficiently in that direc-
tion already.'

' Ah, I know your anxiety to secure that household.
They are not disposed to be friendly to me, and I have
never seen Thomas. I think you said " Thomas." I
knew — But few names are more common. Could you
not get the members of that community to meet you
some day soon, to discuss our religion of reconciliation ?
Our business is to persuade each party into a little
compromise. When that is done, all difficulties will be
overcome.'

' It is all very well to talk ; saying is always easier
than doing. It will be advisable, though, to try the work
of reconciliation in the house of the Syrian. But we
shall have to walk warily there. It will be a great ad-
vantage if we can succeed in winning them.'

' I am not so surfe of that,' returned the Jewess ; ' we
could do very well without them ; but I know that
would not harmonise with thy wishes. Thy influence
with them now is great, I know, in business, if in no
other way. Thy position as hierophant to the new
teacher, the invisible reconciler, would possibly give thee
still greater influence. By the way, Abhayo There is
a friend of Joseph, is he not? It ought not to be
difficult to secure him. But I remember he is not a
favourite of yours, and I know he and the astrologer
here are not on the most affectionate terms. Well,
we will flatter him to the top of his bent. There are
but few men in the world that can stand that. The
"Reconciler" shall send a message expressly for him.
You were going to make him the coming Buddha, were
you not ?

88 THE JEWESS

' I am afraid that will hardly do,' replied the Greek,
' besides, I have another idea with reference to that.
No ; we must get him mixed up with something which
will secure the disfavour of the king. That will be the
surest way of dealing with him ; but what about the
astrologer here ? What part will he play in this manu-
facture of a religion ? I know, of course, that astrology
and demon-worship will find a place in it ; that has been
arranged for — and here too we are not original — but
what part will our friend take with reference to the
" Reconciler " ? '

' My dear friend, he will be in charge of the shrine,
and will lend us important aid by means of his profes-
sion and his acquaintance with the secrets of the cit}-.
We shall make him superintendent of the apparatus of
the shrine. He will not appear in the matter, but we
shall depend largely on him.'

' But where do we establish ourselves ? '

' I have thought of that. On the other side of the
city, not far from the place of the tombs, there is a
house which will just suit our purpose, and which will
lend itself readily to the formation of a secret chamber.
I have thought of a name for the shrine also. Let us
call it Sarana ! That will appeal to both Buddhists
and Christians.'

It will be understood that the greater part of the
dialogue was made clear to the astrologer by interpre-
tation. The details of the scheme were here entered
into, and it was resolved to set up the invisible teacher
in his new home as soon as possible.

As the conversation concluded, the pipes and cym-
bals, and the loud thrumming of the tomtoms, announced
the near approach of the perahera on its way to the

THE JEWESS 89

'cutting of the waters.' Kiri Baudu could be heard
snoring most profoundly.

' I believe if the procession went over his body he
would sleep,' said the Jewess.

' Doubtless,' replied the Greek. ' Let us hurry away
by another street before the procession arrives ! '

CHAPTER VI.

OUT OF THE CITY.

When, when shall I the country see,
Its woodlands green — oh, when be free,
With books of great old men, and sleep.
And hours of dreamy ease, to creep
Into oblivion sweet of life,
Its agitations and its strife ? — HORACE.

For some time it liad been talked of in the house of
Joseph the Syrian that arrangements should be made
as the hot season advanced to spend a few days with
some of Kumari's relatives in the village of Jambu-
gama, about ten miles out of the city, towards the hill-
country.

Joseph had rarely left Anuradhapura since he had
settled there. His absences from home had been
limited to a few brief journeys to Mahatota (great
ferry), the seaport on the north-western coast which
formed the outlet of trade for the capital and the
interior of the country. Though he and his "friend
Thomas would never tire of anathematising (in a kindly
way, generally) the idolatrous city, and the worshippers
of Baal, as they called its inhabitants, yet there w^as one
bright spot from which he never cared to be long away.
But just now he was jaded and weary of business cares,
and Irene had noticed that after the visits of Alypius

OUT OF THE CITY 91

a look of aiixisty might be caught on his face, hitherto
so placid; a look which he would compel himself to
banish when conscious of his daughter's gaze. And
now and then he w^ould sigh heavily, as he followed
Irene's movements through the rooms or in the little
garden in the quadrangle.

Kumari was a village maiden, the daughter of a
village headman, whose duty it was to wait on the chief
of his district, who had been compelled to be in at-
tendance at the royal court for two or three months of
the year. The chief's duties in the capital were con-
cluded, and the time had come for Kumari's father,
Sikkhi Banda, to return with his wife to their village.
They had come to see their daughter, and pay their
respects to Joseph before leaving, and Kumari felt, as
she said, like being cut iu two by her love for her
young mistress and her desire to go home with her
parents. It was then that Sikkhi Banda had asked
Joseph if he would honour him by bringing the lady
who was ' as the bright star of good fortune,' to dwell
for a time with them at Jambugama.

He was in the course of a long sentence about his
own insignificance and that of his family, and the un-
comfortableness of the house, when Irene broke in with,
' It is the very thing, my father ; I believe this is
Kumari's suggestion.' And she shook her finger at
the laughing, tell-tale eyes, which shone brightly out
of the dusky face of her little helper. ' We shall find
it comfortable enough, and we can sit under the great
mango trees which Kumari tells me spread a canopy
over the house, and there we will sing our hymns and
talk together.'

' And the mangoes will soon be ripe, and the jambus

92 OUT OF THE CITY

too,' said Kumari, clapping lier hands, and looking as if
that argument ought to be powerful enough to remove
mountains of objection. ' And you shall walk by the
rice-fields that are like gold now, and you shall hear the
women singing as they work in the fields, and you shall
see Grunty, our one-horned buffalo ! She is not very
clean, and looks gruff, but she means well, and she
always comes when I call her ; and then there is the
dear delightful bird I told you of, that imitates every-
thing, and is as wise as a " Supanno." Sometimes I
think it is one of those wonderful creatures ; and then
too, you shall see my little sisters ! ' All this was
rattled off with the utmost rapidity ; and the reference
to the little sisters, who had been left at home, was
made in a tone and with a gesture which made Joseph
smile.

' We will see, little maid,' he said. Then turning
to her father, ' 1 feel that the quiet of thy village, my
friend, would do me good. We thank thee for thy
kindness, and may possibly avail ourselves of it. May
the God Whom thou dost not know, but Who knowetli
and lovetli thee, have thee in His keeping ! '

This was an admission which Irene did not fail to
take advantage of, and it was soon arranged that the
headman and his wife should be followed in the course
of a few days by Joseph and his daughter with Kumari.

The interval was a time of elaborate preparation,
for it was necessary to take many things with them
which would not have been needful in visiting their
own people. Alypius had called on one or two occa-
sions, and Joseph's face had worn, as before, the look of
one wakening from a troubled dream when he had gone.
And Abhayo Thero had come one evening during the

OUT OF TI/E CITY 93

preparations, and expressed his regret at their departure
even for so short a time ; but he talked with Joseph as
if he could enter into his love for the country, and his
longing for a quiet place where he might rest.

' The air of the city,' he said, ' is full of the great
strife between man and man ; here there is peace.'
And with the faintest smile at his simple pun he looked
for a moment at Irene, who had passed out, veiled, into
the verandah for something which was to be brought in
and put with other things intended for their village
residence.

There was a cloud for a moment on Joseph's brow
as he replied : ' Ah, ray friend, little dost thou know of
what lietli within the circle of such a life as ours.
Whatever peace we have comes to us with our faith in
the words which Thomas reads to us from the holy
Gospels. Sometimes of late I have felt as if even that
Vv^ere not sufficient to comfort my soul, and when that is
the case I am afraid change of scene Avill do but little
for me. But come during our absence as often as thou
canst, friend ! and Thomas, who lives almost the life of
a hermit in this secluded part of the cit}'', he Avill wel-
come thee and talk with thee about the great themes
on which we all three love to discourse.'

It was then that Abhayo told Joseph that he could
distinctly see a storm gathering for himself. The sus-
picion of heresy, for which people had cared but little
before, was being vigorously circulated with reference
to himself. People in high places, he said, were beginning
to avoid him, as one Avhose presence was dangerous to
society. ' And from their point of view they are right,'
he went on to say. ' What can a i^ublic teacher be but
(langerpuSj who has nothing but doubts to put before

94 OUT OF THE CITY

perishing souls ? They put tlieir faith in the " Three
Refuges," and I tell them that even the Blessed One
had nian}" doubts, that he cannot help, cannot deliver ;
that the Dliarma is neither strong nor pure enough to
be our guide, and that the Sanglia ' is unworthy. My
brethren resent it, of course, as treachery to the order.
Oh, why have I been led so far, and yet to know so
little ? ' It was, no doubt, the thought of parting with
one whom he had come to regard as an old friend which
led him to open his heart in that way. And though
the Syrian and his daughter intended to be absent only
for a comparatively brief sojourn, he had a prevision, he
said, that something important and unhappy was about
to occur to him. He shook his head at Joseph's sug-
gestion that he too should seek for a quiet retreat till
the storm had passed. He would go on with the
struggle, he said, and help others as far as he was able.
And when he was leaving the house, he paused at the
threshold and said simply and jiathetically to the father
and daughter who had followed him : ' May the Spirit
of the Saviour whom you serve be with ye both and give
ye peace ! '

' And with thee, friend ! ' said Joseph and Irene,
both as if in the same breath, as the tall, commanding
figure walked away from the door, throwing the loose
folds of the yellow robe over his left shoulder.

With the earliest dawn, a day or two later, the little
party began their journey. There were two bullock
carts of the clumsiest description, one carrying the little
Syrian household, and the other various chattels which
were thought to be necessary during their sojourn. In
the one with the chattels lay Kiri Banda, who had got
' Tlae moDastic order of 13vicldh;sra,

OUT OF THE CITY 95

leave from the astrologer, his master, to accompany tlie
party on a visit for two or three clays to his friends in
the village. There, he no sooner laid himself down on
his hard bed than he fell into a heavy, sonorous sleep,
Avhicli neither the jolting of the cart nor the cries of the
driver could wake him from.

It took them a long time to get through the city,
the streets of wliicli for a considerable distance in the
early morning wore a deserted ajDjDt^^rance, save for a
Samanera ' here and there, lazily sweeping the broken
petals and the decaying flowers of yesterday's offerings
into the causeway, from the shrines which stood at the
corners of the streets.

Entering into Moon Street, they took a course
towards the southern gate of the city, which was yet at
a great distance. The awakening for the day was
beginning. Soldiers with short swords in their belts,
and holding long spears, walked to and fro in front of
the palaces of the great nobles, which adorned the part
of the city through which the first portion of their
journey lay, some of the buildings being two or three
stories high. Of course the sentinels appeared as if
they had not slept a wink all the night.

People came out of their rooms to look up and down
the great street, washing their teeth as they came.
Some of the gentry came out to have a breath of the
morning air, wrapping themselves from head to foot
in white cloth, from fear of the cold.

Gradually little groups began to gather in the street.
Yellow robes began to appear, and small processions of

' Often translated ' deacon.' The junior members of a monastery,
who have not received the, 'Upasampada' ox higher ordination, aro
palled ' Samancras.'

96 OUT OF THE CITY

women, dressed in white, carrying trays covered with
flowers and spathes of palm blossom, to be laid before a
distant shrine to which they were proceeding to take
the vows of ' Sil ' for a period.

The goldsmiths in the verandahs began to make
their little charcoal-fires, and were blowing at them
with their rough bamboo blowpipes. In the eating-
houses, which were all open to the street, sometimes one,
sometimes two, and sometimes even three women were
pounding, each with a large wooden pestle, on the rice
in a wooden mortar, with rhythmic thuds, while they
related their dreams of the previous night, or gossiped
about the neighbouring families. They were preparing
the rice-flour for the little morning meal, while another
woman got the black clay oven in the corner ready for
cooking the same, for travellers would soon be calling
for their early refreshment.

The barbers were beginning their daily vocation also.
People were beginning to journey abroad, and after
ascertaining that the day was auspicious and that the
omens were favourable, came slowly in to the barber's
little stall on the edge of the causeway, silently to await
the barber's grasp on the nose with the left hand, while
the shaving proceeded with the right.

Frequently, a large garden of mangoes and plantains
would appear at the side of the great street, as the bul-
lock carts moved slowly and ponderoiisly along, or topes
of bread-fruit trees surrounding a little dagoba. Into
some of the gardens women went, and graceful, bright-
looking girls carrying on their heads and at their sides
chatties of burnished brass, to be filled with water from
the well in the garden. And very pretty and pic-
turesque they looked in the light of the early morning,

OUT OF THE CITY 97

with tlieir bright faces, white and coloured garments
and brass pots, as they moved among the broad leaves of
the plantain trees.

In some of the smaller streets which led off from
Moon Street, the work of the day had begun in real
earnest, the hammers of the workers in tin and brass
were ringing sharply on their little anvils, and the
shopkeepers were taking their seats tailor-fashion in the
midst of their wares.

All these varied sights, together with the clear
morning air, were sources of exquisite pleasure to the
young Syrian girl, and Joseph's brow for a time wore
the smoothness of one who has forgotten anxiety.

In the southern part of the city, the buildings
appeared to be all temples or monasteries. As they
neared the south gate the houses became fewer, and the
gardens more numerous, and even rice-fields occasionally
bordered on the street.

At the gate itself a busy life became manifest.
Pilgrims passed out on their way to Malaya and
Ruhuna, returning from a pilgrimage to the sacred tree,
rejoicing that they had been favoured to take part in the
demonstrations connected with the reception of the holy
tooth-relic, for they had acquired such merit as would
make themselves regarded in their villages as pre-emi-
nently righteous. Sinhalese men passed laden with
pingoes, which reminded Joseph, as they had often done
before, of the Egyptian yoke carved in stone on some of
the structures which he had seen in Egypt.

Soldiers lounged about, resting on their spears, while
some of them tried the strength of each other's bows sit-
ting on the ground, pulling the bow between their toes
and hands. Elephants passed and repassed, and occa-

98 OUT OF THE CITY

sionally, tliough rarely, a chariot, containing a grandee,
was drawn along by a horse, the bridle being drawn
through the horse's nostrils, as in the case of the bul-
locks that were being taken out of the carts, to be
succeeded by another relay from the sheds outside the
city wall. And among the crowds of people who passed
in, Kumari pointed out some rough and fierce-looking
men from the hill-country, of the class, so the little
maid said, who would sometimes make a raid on their
village rice-fields. They were like the demons who
lived with them in the mountains, she said.

Some Malabars, of truculent aspect, stared at Irene
and her venerable father, and laughed. They then
looked into the second cart, where Kiri Banda was rub-
bing his eyes and arranging his hair ; the cart having
stopped to be examined by the ofiicer of the gate.
After some chaffing in the Malabar tongue, in which
Kiri Banda was not quite at home, they turned away on
the approach of the examiner.

We must not linger, however. The city is soon
left behind, although the large traffic and the numerous
passengers on the road still show our travellers that
they are not yet far from the city walls.

It is the road to Dambulla, and Kiri Banda says
that it goes on — though much of it is not fit for
carts to pass over — through Laggala, the country of
Kuweni, the demon-queen of Wijayo, to the holy
mountain of the sacred footprint itself.^

We can scarcely stay to speak of the deer which

ran across the road, and the jackals which ran before

them, and the monkeys that played in the trees by

the roadside ; all of which gave much delight to the

' Adam's Peak.

OUT OF THE CITY 99

Sinhalese girl and licr young mistress. Now and then
Irene would clap her hands in the excitement of watch-
ing the monkeys, and Kiri Banda, who had raised his
head to look out of the cart, would lie down again,
grumbling that it was all ' a woman's foolishness.'

And when the time came for the mid-day meal in
the cart, both the mistress and maid were in their
glory. Irene declared that it beat the grandest dining-
hall in the city. And Kiri Banda, who was a proverbial
philosopher in his way, overhearing this remark, made
to Kumari while he was straining off the water from a
chatty of rice, muttered in an undertone, ' Crow's flesh
near at hand is better than peacock's flesh at a dis-
tance.' At which they all laughed, Joseph included ;
and Irene laughed again, to see her father laugh.

I shall not have given a correct impression of the
Syrian's daughter, if the reader has imagined her to
have been always a sad, solemn, and stately young lady.
To-day she appeared to enjoy everything with a liveli-
ness which was unbounded. And when they had to
leave the carts for the footpath which led to Jam-
bugama, she protested that she would not use the litter
which had been sent to the road by the headman, with
several villagers (recognised with delight by Kumari),
to carry lier over the rough ways which connected the
village with the road. She would run along between
the paddy-fields with Kumari, she said, and would
enjoy it much better than being carried, especially as
the day was cloudy and the sun was in the west.

Kiri Banda, who walked, or rather waddled, by
Joseph's litter, said, looking at the girls as they ran on
in front : ' To those who can walk, even the jungle is
a royal road.'

G 2

10b OUT OF THE CITY

Then Joseph tried to get him to converse about his
master the astrologer, and his mode of life, intending
to show him the folly of such superstitions as were
fostered by his master's science ; but the man immedi-
ately relapsed into a condition resembling sleep-walking,
with only an occasional grunt to indicate that he was
awake. Although, when reference was made to the
Mihintala Thero, and the trouble he might bring on him-
self by the suspicions which were being roused against him
with the populace, he became wide-awake and grunted
out — ' Will the barking of dogs reach the sky ? '

Joseph had put leading questions, to ascertain how
far the suspicion which had been referred to by the
Thero on parting had gained ground, and he was
delighted to find a partisan in the astrologer's factotum.
It was not much that Kiri Banda said, but the little he
did say left the impression on Joseph's mind that there
were powerful enemies at work against the priest.

On the way to the village they passed little groups
of people watching buffaloes, and here and there where
the crop had been early, a threshing-floor, where the
oxen were being driven in a circle, treading out the
corn. And the oxen would be stopped while the in-
quisitive owners would request Iviri Banda to infonn
them as to who the strangers were, where they were
going, and what their business was. And Kiri Banda
would inform them with the utmost gravity that it was
the venerable Emperor of the West country, travelling
incognito with his daughter, the princess, to visit the
far-famed villages of Lanka ; adding, in an aside, that
they would get favour from those in authority, who
were in the secret, if they brought suitable presents,
not forgetting himself. And with expressions of

OUT OF THE CITY loi

astonishment and great deference, the presents were
promised.

All this occurred, of course, without the cognizance
of Joseph, who had passed on in the litter, after which
Kiri Banda came chuckling and grunting.

At Jambugama great preparations had been made.
Irene said she had never seen anything so beautiful as
the arch of bamboos and all sorts of leaves and fruit
which had been erected at the entrance of the headman's
house, standing in the midst of a clump of mango trees,
which were covered with light and dark-green foliage.
And Kumari pointed with delight to the jambu tree,
which was crowded with beautiful little rosy apples,
and said it was the best time in all the year to come
home.

The younger members of the family were brought
forward and introduced by Kumari. Almost before
the guests were within the house and at the door, a
large myna-bird came hopping out to meet them,
poising its sharp head above its yellow collar with a
perky solemnity, as it uttered a welcome in a variety
of inconsequent expressions beginning Avith ' Live long,
my lord ! ' and ending with ' What can do ? ' much to
the amusement of the new-comers. He had a large
vocabulary for a myna, but the arrangement was often
faulty, as is not seldom the case with bipeds that are
not feathered.

Special rooms of palm-leaves had been erected for
the guests at little cost, which form an excellent
shelter in the dry weather. And a hearty, respectful
welcome was given them by Kumari's father and
mother, the former leading them to two couches which
had been covered with white cloths.

loa CUT OF THE CITY

On retiring that niglit, tlie father and daughter
sang together a sweet Greek hymn, into which the
twenty-third psalm had been rendered, and that finished,
Joseph said, ' Let us pray together the prayer of the
Gospels—" Our Father." '

CHAPTER VII.

THE NEW RELIGION.

I disbelieve in Christian pagans, much
As you in women-fishes. If we mix
Two colours, we lose both, and make a third
Distinct from either. — E. B. Browning.

Alypius and the Jewess had not been idle. The shrine
of the ' Reconciler ' had been made ready, not in the
place originally intended, but in a house of imposing
appearance, not far from the astrologer's Hall of
Mystery. It was agreed that this was necessary, to
admit of frequent visits on the part of the astrologer.

The building had been undergoing elaborate pre-
parations, under the supervision of the three persons
most deeply interested. At last the opening ceremony
was announced, and it was arranged that, previously to
the opening of the shrine to the public, there should be
a select gathering of distinguished persons, to secure
whose attachment to the new society was most desirable,
called together in the hall for the purpose of friendly
discussion, and in order to produce as favourable an
impression to begin with as possible.

It was the night before the opening, and if all who
came to the hall were favourable to the new movement,

104 '^'HE NEW RELIGION

the ' Reconciler ' would not languish for want of dis-
tinguished patronage. Prince Detu was there, and
with him two of the three chief Adigars (the king's
ministers), Dliarma Sen, the Indian visitor who has been
already introduced to the reader, the Princess of
Kalinga, Anula, and some ladies of the court, whose
influence Leah had made a great point of trying to
secure. At the period of which we are writing, ladies
mingled much more freely in such assemblies than they
do now, and then, as now, the priests were not so
punctilious with regard to avoiding the presence of
women as they were commanded to be by the precepts
of Gautama. Among the priests who were attending
the conference were the high priest of Thuparama and
Abhayo Thero.

The lead was taken, of course, by Alypius ; the
Jewess sitting by him as he spoke, apparently absorbed
in the profouudest meditation. Alypius, speaking in
Sinhalese, addressed a few words of welcome to the
' Guests of the " lleconciler," ' as he called them. He
spoke with great fluency and ease. Nobody could come
in contact in any way with the young Greek merchant
without being impressed with the fact that here was a
man with talents of no mean order, and on this occasion
the talent for persuasive speech, and that in a foreign
tongue, was conspicuous in the address with which
Alypius introduced the subject.

He said that he had been impressed, during his long
residence in the great metropolis of the Sinhalese
kingdom, with nothing so much as the religious dif-
ferences represented amongst the natives of the land,
and the strangers who had been attracted to it from
East and West, and the great kingdoms in the North

THE NEW RELIGION 105

(here lie bowed to the Indian visitors), by the riches and
glories of the city and tlie holiness of its shrines.
Could they deny that religious differences had led to
horrible wars in the past, and were still often the bane
of existence ? Some of his friends present, of the
mercantile community, would remember how all Alex-
andria and the churches of the West had been split into
factions, while a terrible and bloody strife pervaded all
classes of society with reference to the exact position
occupied by the Christ in the Christian Trinity. In
the palaces of the nobles and in the lowest taverns, men
fought over religious terms, the meanings of which were
rarely understood, and when understood were found to
be practically of the same import.

' It is a grateful and pleasing fact,' he went on to
say, ' that the danger of such religious conflicts is not
so great where we live under the tolerating influence of
a merciful creed like that of the holy Gautama, and
where those who occupy the highest positions are
devoted to philosophical culture and the refinements of
art.' (Here, a glance of admiration at the prince Detu,
who occupied a prominent position in the conference.)
' We who have seen something of religious intolerance in
the great cities of the West cannot but rejoice in the
mercy and the calm, beautiful spirit of charity which
characterises the followers of the mighty son of Sud-
dhodana.'

' Malia Sen ? ' was suggested in a low voice from
the back of the hall.

Faces were turned in the direction from which the
voice came suggesting the name of the royal perse-
cutor, but the speaker could not be identified, and few,
if any, would think of connecting it with Kiri Banda,

io6 THE NEW RELIGION

who might be seen seated on a mat, with his great
black head resting against the wall, apparently in a
profound sleep.

The Greek continued, without heeding the interrup-
tion : — ' I have made the system unfolded by the holy,
all-wise Buddha my study day and night, and I can
see in that system so eloquently expounded from time
to time by some of my reverend friends here ' (waving
his hand in the direction of Thuparama and Abhayo,
who sat on the raised seats reserved for the priests),
great truths, which need only to be popularly repre-
sented to ensure universal acceptance. I have said that
Buddhism is tolerant. Its doctrines, properly under-
stood, are the heritage not of one nation or race, of one
continent or island, but, like the great sea, it was
meant to embrace them all, by the all-seeing mind
which under the sacred Bo obtained the vision of the
universe. In the Tri-pitaka,^ reverend sirs, you have
the true wealth of the universe, and we of the West
come to you, who are the guardians of these precious
caskets of Divine Gems, saying : " Open to us, that our
eyes may be blessed, and our spirits rejoice in their
lustre ! "

' But in coming thus as suppliants we do not come
empty-handed, though freely confessing that the jewels
which we bring from the West become pale in the
illumination which floods upon us with the opening of
the " three caskets." Neither do we come as strangers
to the truths which you teach. Unconsciously, in
listening to the voices of the divine Plato, of Philo-
JudaDus, and of some of our Christian teachers, we have

' The three ' caskets ' or collections -which form the Buddhist
scriptures.

THE NEW RELIGION 107

walked in the " eiglit-fold path '' of the glorious Buddhas,
and the gems of doctrine which we bring you ' (a gruff
whisper of, ' How much apiece ? ' came from the back
of the hall, where Kiri Banda was serenely sleeping,
with his head against the wall), ' though not so precious
and brilliant as those in the Tri-pitaka, are of the same
nature, and may be of vast service in helping men
to understand and apply the precious contents of the
sacred caskets. Why should not the gems from East
and West be brought together in one magnificent crown
of pure gold, to illustrate the all-embracing charity of
Buddhism and the unity of the true religion ?

' We are here to-day with that object in view — to
honour the faith so worthily represented by the reverend
gentlemen before me, to put an end to the strife of
creeds, to turn our backs on a divided, unholy past,
and to say that the time is come when we should look
rather at the resemblances between our religious beliefs
than at the differences, and seek for common ground
on which we can worship together in one great brother-
hood. The only process by which this grand object
can be attained is that which is often sneered at by
those whose eyes are blinded by prejudice ; it is eclecti-
cism. I am confident that the mention of that word
will not meet with disparaging treatment at the hands
of so intellectual and sympathetic an assembly as this.
But in the selection and amalgamation which we pro-
pose, the necessary reforms must not be forgotten, we
must rise to the higher Buddhism, which means the
highest religious life of the ages. And in this we are
powerless, as we have been told again and again by the
learned priest before me, the Mihintala Thero, unless
we realise the communion and guidance of those adepts

lo8 THE NEW RELIGION

who, having passed through many births, victorious
over sin and the flesh, and having overcome all bodily
restraints, are occupying to-day the thrones of intel-
lectual dominion.

' It is true that we see them not, and are uncon-
scious of their presence ; but we may be sure that they
frequently visit, as of old, the holy places which are
the landmarks in the sacred history of this wonderful
city. But more attractive than the holiest shrine for
the " great ones " is that heart in which dwells the
fethereal essence which is the very nature of the gods,
and constitutes their kinship. But in how few do we
find this sympathetic essence, so necessary to this high
fellowship ! How rarely do we meet with these
" revealers " of our race ! It is my high privilege to-
night to introduce you to one in whom dwells the
divine essence to which I have referred, and who, even
now, Avliile I have been attempting in my poor way
to explain our position, has, for aught we know, been
engaged in converse with those great minds com-
pared with which the finest intellects in this learned
and intellectual community are but as babes in swaddling
clothes.

' It is my privilege to introduce you to one of the
great initiated, one who lives in the midst of what are
to us the invisible mysteries. The marvels of which
the sacred books of all religions speak are made clear to
her in the ^ethereal sphere in which she moves.' (A
curious cough came from the back of the hall, but Kari
Banda slept on in undisturbed serenity.) ' Through her,
we may bring the wisdom that exists in the society of
the gods down to our help. This,' pointing to Leah,
« is the lady of whom I speak ; in her the dual life is

THE NEW RELIGION 109

tnost strikingly developed and distinguished, and
through her the gods will commune with men. She is
most anxious to place the divine gifts which she pos-
sesses at your service, that you may get nearer the
sacred mysteries which lie behind the letter of the
pitakas and of all sacred scriptures. She is especially
under the controlling influence of a great mind, who is
perhaps the most perfect adept in existence, whether
in the human body or out of it, and who, through this
his handmaid, has signified his willingness to preside
at this shrine. She has lived a varied life, has in her
time devoted herself to various religious systems. She
has left the creeds of the West, tainted as they are with
murder and rapine, cursed with the dark shadow thrown
over the nations by the imagination of a personal god.
She has wandered through all inhabited lands, and
could find no resting-place, no place which should be
so suitable for the establishment of the new faith, for
the revelation of the " Great Minds," as this great city
of hallowed associations nurtured in the faith of the
gentle and wise prince of the Sakyas.

' You would ask " who is this great mind of which
I speak ? " His name is to be withheld until you have
witnessed the marvellous manifestations of his presence
and power which will be unfolded to his disciples. For
the present he is to be known as " the Reconciler." I
am authorised to say that he knows each one of you,
and is anxious that through you the wisdom of that
higher sphere may be made available to the world.
He, " the Reconciler," has this day declared that he
has watched, for instance, the doubts and aspirations
of the Mihintala There, knows all his associations, and
has predicted that his mighty intellect will take the

iio THE NEW RELIGION

lead in inaugurating the new era of religious life and
blessedness.

'You, reverend gentlemen, who Lave made the
sacred books your daily study, will know that this is
not foreign to true Buddhism. If there is anything in
it that is not in accordance with the precepts of the
Tathagato, we are prepared to wipe it out, that there
may be no enmity or strife in the shrine of the " Recon-
ciler." Welcome to Sarana, the house of refuge which
is to shelter those who would flee from the religious
animosities of mankind ! '

At the conclusion of the Greek's speech the conver-
sation began ; questions were asked. Some of the
priests were doubtful whether it was consistent with
Buddhism for a lady to occupy the position given in
the new system to the Jewess. But they were easily
silenced by references to Buddhist history, and the
mystery of the dual life was held to be sufficient to
overcome any doulDt of that kind. The merchants
present, mostly from Alexandria, said but little, and
looked as if the speech of Alypius, which had evidently
made a deep impression on the native part of the
audience, contained matter not altogether new to
them.

Anula, who could understand by this time much
of what had been said, began to wonder whether this
was not after all the true way to that higher Buddhism
which had been the dream of her life.

Abliayo Thero sat unmoved during the conversation
with his arms folded, looking the old, far-off" look of
the meditating Buddha. At last the appeal was made
to all present to enrol themselves as disciples of the
' Reconciler.' They were asked not to renounce the re-

THE NEW RELIGION tn

ligions which they professed, but rather to take on this
new-old faith which would make them pure and tranquil.
They were to pledge themselves to show no enmity
whatever to any religion. Offerings to the shrine
were, of course, expected and asked.

Then, when the conditions had been read, Abhayo
Thero drew himself up to his full height, and held out
his hand, to secure the attention of the assembly. It
was a moment of suspense. All were anxious to learn
what the powerful priest would say of the new religion,
especially as it had been so publicly announced that
he was in high favour with the invisible ' Reconciler '
himself. Slowly but earnestly he spoke : — ' This is the
most important subject that can occupy the mind of
man. The rise and fall of dynasties and kingdoms
cannot approach it in importance ' (an approving smile
from Alypius), ' and therefore we must not hastily accept
such untried propositions as those which have been
placed before us to-night' (a dark shade came over the
Greek's face). ' There were certain signs by which men
might know the true Buddha. Let us look for the
sisfns that the " Reconciler " is what is claimed for him.
It is said, so I have heard, that the highest authority in
one of the world's great religions advised His followers
to apply in all charity one great test to the works of
all men. " By their fruits ye shall know them." Let
us try this new faith by its fruits, and then if it is
worthy and its claims are proved, let us accept it thank-
fully. But be assured of this, that the revelation, if
worthy, will come to us in unswerving truth, in purity
of life and aim, and with clean hands. The position
offered me is no temptation. For me, the true Sarana
is not here.'

112 THE NEW RELIGION

The Greek rose, with a smile whicli covered sup-
pressed passion, and declared that, in spite of what had
just been said, he did not despair of seeirg the prediction
of the ' Reconciler ' fulfilled. But he could explain the
Thero's present antipathy to the new faith. He had
received it from his Christian associations. He had
quoted the very words of the Christian Scriptures.
There was nothing that was so antagonistic to Buddhism
as Christianity, with its lawless immoralities and blood-
shed, and its worship of three Gods, a religion of child-
ishness, which justly called for the contempt of the
commanding philosophic intellect which pervaded the
followers of Gautama. He went on to show what
failures his own experiences of the Christian religion
had been — experiences which were readily accepted by
those present as correct representations of the Christian
faith, — and concluded by asking whether they were to
be deterred by arguments drawn from such foul sources
as those.

The Thero held out his hand without rising, and
said : * My Christian associations, as the speaker
knows, have been with pure-minded and honest friends,
and their experiences of the Christian faith are in
favourable contrast to his. Though not a Christian '
( Not just yet,' sneered Alypius), ' I cannot hear the
faith of such friends defamed without protest, and this
by one who has laid on you, as disciples of the " Recon-
ciler," the solemn condition that you shall speak evil of
no man's creed.'

There was a moment of indecision. But the Greek's
attack on Christianity, with the hint as to the Thero's
heretical associations, carried the day. Then the prince
Detu stood up and repeated the formula of acceptance.

THE NEW RELIGION 113

and was enrolled. He was followed by one and another,
until all had been enrolled except two, Abliayo and
Anula, while Kiri Banda still sat with his great black
head reclining against the wall, to all appearances in a
deep sleep.

114

CHAPTER VIII.

THE BURNT HAND.

. . . Truly these burnings,
As Thirlby says, are profitless to the burners,
And help the other side. — Tennyson's Queen Mary.

Life in Jambngfima afforded the most striking contrast
to the life of the great city. The village was not large ;
there were not many large villages in the kingdom, but
they straggled out thinly to an almost indefinite length,
and it was sometimes difficult to say where one village
ended and the next began. It depended almost entirely
on the rice-fields, as it does in the interior of Ceylon
to-day. There were exceptions, as there are now. A
noted pansala might cause a village to rise in its
vicinity. And as the pansala was generally on an
eminence, a beautiful picture was produced by the white
dagoba on the summit, and by the houses of the villagers
which clustered around the hill-side under the dark
trees, down to where the sea of golden grain seemed to
strike on the foot of the hill.

Such a village was Jambugama. Its inhabitants
lived a quiet, restful life, and were rarely excited about
anything, unless the peace of the village was disturbed
by an invasion of robber-hordes from the hill-country.

THE BURNT HAND 115

and such visits had of late been very rare indeed, and
save for the ' new year ' and other festivals there was
little to break the monotony of daily existence. Kiri
Banda voted it slow, terribly slow, after the life of the
city. Two or three days were sufficient for him, he had
said ; and when these had passed he had gone back
again to Anuradhapura, where we have seen him sleep-
ing in the hall of the ' Keconciler.'

There were two persons, however, in Jambugama
who had no sympathy with Kiri Banda's city prefer-
ences. To Joseph and his daughter it was a time of
great peace. But their stay in the village was, for the
simple folk by whom they were surrounded, a continuous
and unwonted excitement. Foreigners had visited the
village but rarely, and none had come to reside. And
about these two distinguished foreigners the most ex-
aggerated rumours had spread, and for some days after
their arrival the house of Sikki Banda was besieged by
the villagers who had come to pay their respects and to
look on ' the beautiful white lady,' as they called Irene,
and her venerable father. Nor did they come empty-
handed. Whatever may have been or may be the
defects of the Sinhalese villager, want of hospitality
and of kindness to strangers was not, and is not, found
amongst them.

The people were inquisitive — courteously so — and
the strangers were plied with numerous questions daily,
which afforded them much quiet amusement. On the
other hand, the visitors were delighted with the oppor-
tunities afforded of studying native character as it
appeared in country life, so different from the character
developed in the city. And there was much to be
learnt. A new world seemed to Irene to be opening

H 2

Ii6 THE BURNT HAND

to her vision, while to Joseph it recalled his childhood
in the old Syrian village home.

They were sitting one morning after they had sung
and prayed together, and had partaken of the light
morning meal, in what was really a pretty room made
of poles and plaited palm leaves, and were talking of
these new experiences, when Irene said : ' It seems
wonderful to me now that I could live patiently in the
city in ignorance of all the various beauty of this simple
country-life, and of what constitutes the existence of
the natives of the land. It is like living in a new
world to me. Why, it is possible for people to live in
Anuradhapura, and yet to know just as little of the
country and the real life of the people as if they were
living in Alexandria.'

' It is undoubtedly true, my child ; and I am begin-
ning to attach blame to myself for living in a similar
condition of blindness. There is so much of selfishness
and self-conceit in us ; we hedge ourselves round with
it, and despise the world beyond our own little com-
munity. And that, together with a pride of race —
our connection with the mighty civilisation of the
West — has kept us from knowing the true life of the
people.'

' I am certain that our merchants when they go
home grossly misrepresent the native life, or at any
rate give only one-sided views of the native character.
They of course see the worst side in trade. And they
do not hesitate to pronounce judgment on the entire
nation from the specimens they meet with in gem-
dealing. I wonder how many of them could pass an
examination in the historical traditions of the country
or in the religion of the people and their customs ! And

THE BURNT HAND 117

yet I am told that when they go back to Alexandria
they pose as authorities, and even take their places in
the Academy as such.'

' Do not speak too harshly of them, child; it comes
of thinking that our own community is the only one
worth knowing and worth caring for. We have been
much the same, and perhaps should continue to be but
for such experiences as these. We have looked, for
instance, on our little church (which may God have
in His keeping !) as if it were for the foreign community
only. Its services have been maintained in a language
which is not that of the people. And the whole system,
as far as we are concerned, is established on the founda-
tion that the souls of the few merchants are of far
greater value than the vast population inhabiting the
great city. May the all-merciful God forgive me my
blindness in this matter ! '

' And yet, dear father,' said Irene, looking lovingly
into his tear-filled eyes and stroking the old man's
hand — ' and yet you have not been indifferent. You
have learnt the language of the people, and you have
had me taught; and I remember that when Alypius
was denouncing the nation so fiercely one day as a
nation of deceivers and thieves, because of the way in
which he had been over-reached in a bargain, you told
him it was unfair to speak thus, and asked him to
remember the number of times he had profited by their
ignorance in gem-dealing, and how he had benefited
by their cheap labour.'

' It is small comfort, child, to know that, when one
feels that he has not done his duty to his fellow-men.
We have not been neighbours, in the sense of that
touching story in the holy Gospel, to those who lived

Il8 THE BURNT HAND

with US, who served us, who traded with us ; we have
kept our good things, and have dared even to keep the
good things of God to ourselves. This movement on
behalf of a new all-embracing faith is a reproach to me
— a reproach to the Church of Jesus, as it stands in
Anuradhapura. I like not the spirit of compromise
which characterises the promoters of this scheme, nor
the ease with which cherished beliefs are forsaken ; but
it appears to break down the pride of race, and in so
far as it does that, and advances the brotherhood of man
irrespective of nationality or class, it will undoubtedly
be acting in the spirit of true Christianity. And it
may be that my partner Alypius and his coadjutors
are moved in this matter by what they have learnt
from the Christian Scriptures. It would please me
much if thou couldest look more favourably on our
friend, my daughter. Beware of prejudice ! '

'I cannot help it, my father. It may be prejudice,
but there is something which will keep telling me that
all his talk about universal charity is superficial. I
mistrust his motives. But let us not talk of him now.
I wonder how Thomas is getting on ! Imagine him
poring over his manuscript. The servant has just
told him that the morning meal is spoiled because ^of
a chatty being broken, and he says quietly without
looking up: "Never mind; it Avill only make the
appetite keener for the next meal. Go, child, thou art
forgiven." Here the servant comes again. " Master,
look, the young lady's flowers are dead, what shall I
do ? " And he replies with profound delight as if he
had suddenly found a complete remedy : " Go, child,
and put in others ! " '

' Ah,' said Joseph, patting her playfully on the

THE BURNT HAND 119

back, ' my little one imagines that none can manage
for the old people like herself.'

' Now, father, what does Thomas know of native
life, or of life in our own community, for that matter ?
He seems, when he is not engaged in his sacred duties,
to be living in a dream. We have known him for
years, but he takes little interest in what surrounds
us, except that he sits with you on the top of the
house occasionally to watch a procession, and I have
noticed that he wakes up a little when Abhayo Thero
comes.'

' My child, I have told you before that our friend
has passed through great tribulation, but I have not
told you of the nature of his trials. It may be well, how-
ever, that you should know, and I think he would not
object to your knowing ; only remember that he does
not like to have a word said concerning it in his pre-
sence.

' Thou hast noticed that he appears to have but one
hand — his left. The right is always kept carefully
concealed in his robe.'

'"Appears"?' said Irene, in amazement, 'why,
has he two hands then ? I remember asking him
about his hand one day, and he replied that it was
once fearfully injured, so that it was not of much
service to him after. And I thought it had probably
been taken off after the injury. But he looked so
pained when I spoke to him that I did not like to
question him further. That explains what I have
often wondered at, the ability with which he manages
for himself. And even when he is confined to the
use of his left hand he seems to have no difficulty.
He handles the roll of the sacred manuscript as well

I20 THE BURNT HAND

with his left hand as other people can with both
hands.'

' There is no reason why he should not tell the sad
story connected with it ; it reflects the greatest honour
on himself; but there were disgraceful associations, in
which others, who were at one time dear to him, were
concerned, and it is his anxiety to say no word to the
discredit of these who were so cruel — to forget if he can
that part of a terrible past, and prevent any reference to
it. Remarks are occasionally made now, but a sight
of the hand might lead to identification. And this he
would dread. Thomas was not brought up for the
Christian ministry, and indeed he was not a Christian in
early life. He was the son of a wealthy Athenian who
had married a Jewess and settled in Caesarea. He was
sent to Alexandria to study in the rhetoric schools, with
a view to becoming an advocate. It was while there
that he became impressed with the Christian faith. And
during that same period his parents in Caesarea had
undergone the great change and embraced Christianity.
On his return to his father's house after having finished
his course of study, it was a great delight to his parents
to find that no difference of faith was likely to disturb
the family unity, and it was not long before he made a
public profession of his belief in Christ,

' There was only one obstacle to this act, and that
was his betrothal to a young Jewess named Athaliah,
who at first was angry at the change, and resisted all
attempts at conversion, and then — as we know now — for
the sake of the family wealth, she consented not only
to his becoming a Christian, but also to becoming a
nominal Christian herself. She was, it seems— I never
saw her — a fascinating person, especially in conversation,

THE BURNT HAND 121

and her consent, though reluctantly given, called out a
stronger affection than ever on the part of Theodorus.
That was his name then — a name which he renounced on
taking upon himself the Christian vows. He became
devotedly attached to her, and for some time 'after his
marriage they appeared to be of one mind with regard
to the Christian faith.'

' Thomas married ! ' said Irene. ' I always thought
him the severest of old bachelors. Why, he shuns the
society of women as much as any orthodox Buddhist
priest would ; the priest in the pansala above us, for
instance, who held his fan before his eyes, that he
might not see us when he met me yesterday with
Kumari.'

' A Christian pastor of great influence in the city,
who was well acquainted with the family of our friend,
thought it his duty to warn him against certain associa-
tions which the young wife had begun to form without
her husband's knowledge, with persons who had been
carried away by the Neo-Platonist enthusiasm. It
might be nothing further, he said, than a desire to be
acquainted with the mysteries which the leaders of this
sect professed to unravel, but it was full of danger to
a Christian household. The words of his friend and
pastor were not kindly received by Thomas, who
naturally resented any imputation cast on his wife.
His parents also called his attention to the frequent visits
paid her by the crafty and designing man who was the
leader of this sect in Cgesarea.

' But enough of this. The persecution under
Galerius came on. The pastor, forewarned, carried the
greater part of his flock away to a place of security in
the desert, and would have taken the household of

122 THE BURNT HAND

Thomas, but liis wife laughed at their feai's, and declared
that she at least would remain. Her husband deter-
mined to remain with her.

' When the persecution broke out, it was found that
the Neo-Platonists were in league with the Pagans
against the Christians. And there was fearful treachery
in the house of Thomas. He was imprisoned on in-
formation furnished by his wife. He still would not
believe in her treachery until he was brought before
the judges, when in the open court he found that the
chief witness against him was the wife whom he had so
fondly loved, while a prominent place in the court was
given to the Neo-Platonist who had so grossly abused
his hospitality. He said that he was so painfully
shocked, that for a time he could scarcely answer the
question of the judge asking him if he would deny the
Nazarene. Those in the court took it at first for waver-
ing. Recovering himself, he declared manfully that he
would rather die than deny the Christ.

' In the court there was a small statue of the
Olympian Jupiter, and before it a brazier full of burn-
ing coals. Our dear friend was condemned, as many of
the brethren have been, to have his hand held in the
fire, and after that to be taken back to prison. Boldly
— so I was told afterwards by one who had witnessed it
— setting aside those who would have held him, he
bared his arm and put his hand into the midst of the
flame, lifting his eyes towards heaven in prayer. It
must have been a time of excruciating torture, though
he says that such was the state of his feeling at the
time that he scarcely realised it. It was after a brief
interval, when he had, by permission of the court, with-
drawn the hand, scorched and blackened all over, that

THE BURNT HAND 123

the intense suffering began. And then, as he was being
marched off to the prison, he saw a look of wicked
triumph pass between the traitress and her cruel friend,
and he could not speak, but simply held out towards
them his burnt hand.

' By some means he managed with much difficulty
to escape from prison to the retreat of the Christians.
There he found that during the rough journey his
mother had died. And there, while he was being-
nursed by tender hands, news came of the doings of the
wicked woman who had been his wife.

' When the edict of toleration was enforced, most of
the exiles came back to Csesarea. There were two who
remained behind — Thomas and his father. They took
on themselves vows of poverty, and for a long time lived
in caves, although they might have gone back to the
city, and have lived in the enjoyment of what property
remained to them unmolested, for the wicked woman
had left Caesarea and gone, none knew whither. After
a time they wandered into Africa, and it was there in
the desert, about three days' journey from Alexandria,
that I met with Thomas.

' We had come from Antioch, exiles. I had left
your mother in the city with some friends, having
obtained permission from the authorities to visit a holy
saint whom I had known many years before, who was
living the life of a recluse in the desert. On the third
day, when I should have reached my destination, I
missed my way, and was glad to have an opportunity
of making inquiry at a cave where some hermits
appeared to be residing. It was a day and scene that
I shall never forget.

' A young man — but with an aged look, I could

124 THE BURNT HAND

hardly tell then whether he was young or old — came to
the mouth of the cave at my approach. He was clad in
the rudest garments, but more fully than is usual with
these dwellers in caves. He appeared to have only one
arm, and looked inexpressibly sad. In answer to my
inquiry, he said that he knew the brother I was in
search of, but it was too late to go farther, and he
pointed with his left hand to the shadows lengthen-
ing on the plain below. " It is a poor hospitality
I can offer thee," he said. " I am alone with the
dead, but it is the dead in Christ, and therefore thou
wilt have no need of fear." He pointed to a corpse
lying within on a mat on the floor of the cave, and
said simply, " My father was taken to the Saviour last
night."

' Nothing could be more peaceful or beautiful than
death as it appeared to me that evening. The son and
I watched by the dead through the night, and conversed
together. Confidence begat confidence, and at last he
told me his story, the story which has just been told
thee, little one ! He talked until daybreak ; and the
first light of the morning sun streamed into the cave
revealing a burnt and withered hand which rested
lovingly on the forehead of the dead.'

' Oh, father ! ' said Irene, bursting into tears ; ' and
I have been so foolish and often so fretful with him.
God forgive me, and may God bless him ! '

' Amen ! ' said Joseph. ' There is no need, my
child, to talk of what followed, of how we buried the
dead, and found the old friend of whom I had been in
search, or to say anything further of the new friendship
so strangely formed. As thou knowest, we had not
been long here before we built the little church, and

THE BURNT HAND 125

then thy mother died. Some friends returning home-
ward conveyed a pressing invitation to Thomas to go to
Antioch for ordination, and join us here to be our pastor
in this heathen city.'

At this point Kumari came running in excitedly,
saying with much incoherence : ' Does the lady know
that to-morrow is the baby's naming day ? And we are
going to have such fun, and the boys will stay home
from the pansala,* and there will be Jcirihat, and lots of
sweetmeats, and one of the dogs is dead, and to-morrow
is a lucky day, and other visitors are coming. Shall I
tell you who they are ? '

' Well, that is a large mouthful for a little maid
like thee,' said Irene. ' Pray tell us, for we are
curious ! '

' The clever Indian lady who came with the princess
and the sacred relic. Anula is her name. She is
visiting the most sacred spots in the country, and you
know our hill is a very holy place, and very famous —
though you may not think so — and this lady is coming
on a pilgrimage, and she will stay here with her
maidens for some days. She is very beautiful — I
saw her once — but not so beautiful as a lady that I
know.'

' Oh, you silly little thing,' said Irene, ' stop your
chatter instantly ; ' but she was pleased neverthe-
less.

' How readily,' said Joseph, ' are our thoughts
turned from things that are profoundly mysterious or

' Provision is made in the pansalas for the education of boys, a
duty which has been almost universally neglected in modern times
by the priests, who have misappropriated valuable endowments given
for that purpose. No provision is made, of course, for the education
of the girls.

126 THE BURNT HAND

sorrowful to the gayest and most superficial. It is
good that the mind can be so easily turned. It is often
one of God's ways of helping and comforting men.
Well, little maid, we will join thee in looking forward
to a happy morrow.'

129

CHAPTER IX.

THE PANSALA.

♦Listen, king-,' he said. *In the deepest shades of the forci^t
there lives a hermit named Vibhandaka. Long ago, he left the city,
his heart full of bitterness, because amongst men he had found crime
and folly.' — Ramayana.

It was the clay before the beginning of the Wass, the
period of the year known as the ' Buddhist Lent.' It
has very little in common with the Lenten fast observed
in the Roman Catholic Church. Indeed, in some re-
spects, it is strikingly the reverse. It is rather a feast
than a fast, ' a feast of fat things ' for the priests. Priest
again is only a term of convenience, MonJc would be the
more fitting title. It is becoming fashionable now to
invest the Buddhist system with the ecclesiastical ter-
minology of Christianity. We have met with people
occasionally, both Christians and Buddhists, in these
latter days, who could see very little difference between
Buddhism and Christianity. And on one occasion, at
least, the writer remembers the fact of the Buddhist
having a ' Lent ' season advanced as evidence that he
was ' not far from the kingdom ! '

The Wass was ordered to be observed in India
throughout the rainy season, during which time the
priests were to go into Retreat, another inappropriate

130 THE PANS ALA

term. Tliey were not to go on long journeys or pil-
grimages ; and arrangements were to be made for the
daily reading of the Buddhist Scriptures and preaching,
and for the reception of offerings. In Ceylon it is often
a time of great festivity. A favourite priest is invited
to a village to conduct a ' mission,' and his coming is
the signal for general holiday. He is received with
great demonstration, with music and dancing. The
Wass is characterised by more or less of holiday through-
oiTt, and the food offerings to the priesthood are
especially liberal and varied.

Great preparations had been made in Jambugama,
preparations which had been watched with great interest
by our friends from the city.

Now, it would be easy and pleasant — for I must
confess that I personally enjoy being with these friends
in the midst of these village scenes — to make the people
of Jambugama send the offering of betel-leaves ' to
Abhayo Thero, with an invitation to be the special
preacher for the Wass. We should then be gathering
our principal characters around us ; and who knows
what ' situations ' might develop under such circum-
stances ? But Abhayo Thero was not so honoured. In
years gone by the betel-offerings at this time had come
to him from all directions. This year there was a sig-
nificant absence of such invitations, and the young monk
felt it very keenly, although he had no difficulty in
accounting for it.

The ominous whisper of ' unorthodoxy ' had been
growing in volume ever since his famous address in the
new assembly hall. It was not that heresy itself was

' It would not be etiquette for a deputation to wait on a superior
■without au ofEering of betel-leaves.

THE Pan SAL A l^t

I'egarclecl as sucli a fearful thing, but tlie whisper g-rew,
as is the way of such whispers, into slander ; and the
most exaggerated and lying rumours were being circu-
lated about the Thero. It was said that he had lost the
royal favour, which was true ; and this fact weighed far
more than the charge of heresy with the multitude, al-
though there were large numbers who would have
wished, but scarcely dared to give expression to it, to
have had the great preaclier officiating in the city at
such a time.

Even Detu had begun to avoid him. He appeared
to be more than ever engaged in the workshops with
Dharma Sen, the Indian visitor, who gave him, as he
said, much assistance in stone-carving. And neither of
them seemed now to care for the companionship of
Abhayo. The loss of the royal favour was hard to bear,
this was harder.

They, Dhama and the prince, had become frequent
visitors to the shriue of the ' Reconciler,' and stories
were afloat of wonderful doings there, and of miraculous
manifestations brought about by Leah in the queen's
palace, where she had now become a frequent visitor.

On this day, in our month of July, Abhayo was
walking out by the Sacred Way to join his brethren on
Mihintala in the Wass ceremonies. He jDassed the
statues and the numerous shrines on the wayside un-
heeded. Processions were met, with priests escorted
under white canopies, and offerings carried on trays
covered with white cloth, and passed without observa-
tion. And the people in the procession would turn and
watch the tall, striking figure hurrying along the holy
street. The long walk had apparently not tired liim.
He was young, and accustomed to it, and he had also

I 2

132 THE PANSALA

been occupied with his thoughts. He came to the foot
of the wonderful stairway with its carved steps of solid
stone ; and after a few moments' conversation with a
priest in charge of a small temple there, he ascended
the sacred hill Avith nearly as much ease as he had
walked down the famous street. *

He had mounted nearly to the top of the third flight
of stairs, when he turned by a path to the left under
the stone aqueduct, and on between sculptured columns
to the level sjDace where the Bhoj ana Salawa or refectory
stood, and where a Bana Maduwa (preaching place)
had been prepared for the Wass. From this place a
path leading around a part of the mountain over a
precipice, which would be dangerous to a stranger, but
which to Abhayo was evidently familiar ground, brought
him to the rock-cells where the hermits dwelt.

In the front of one of them sat a venerable old
man, whose shrivelled body was only partially covered
by a monastic robe, the colour of which it w^ould be
difficult to describe. He shook with paralysis as he
rested his hands on his staff, and looked, or appeared
to look — for the aged eyes Avere not equal to distant
vision — on the scene which spread out below.

You would have said' that the light of life had left
him, and that the faintest twilight was all that remained,
had you seen him a few minutes ago ; but now, with
Abhayo's greeting, a remarkable change came over
him, and his face became a sudden illumination of
pleasure. He had been the young priest's tutor, and
for him there was no joy like the company of his
favourite pupil. The visitor's greeting was marked by
profound respect and afiection. Great respect is always
paid to the aged members of the Buddhist priesthood

THE PANS ALA 1 33

by their juniors, but the relations between these two
men were of no ordinary character. The old hermit
had a reputation of extraordinary sanctity. He was,
according to popular ideas, if it could be said of any one,
in the last of the ' four paths.' But thei'G was one
obstacle to his attainment of Arhatship, in the old
man's mind ; there was one affection which he could not
conquer, and that was his love for his ' boy,' as he
sometimes called Abhayo. For often, as he sat there
in the mouth of the cave, he would brood over the past,
and it was pleasant to re-live the time when the young
Samanera waited upon him — though he scarcely needed
it then — so graciously and tenderly.

' How he did grow, to be sure ! ' the old man would
mutter to himself; 'why, you could almost see him
growing ! And his mind would grow nearly as rapidly
as his body. Nobody could repeat the Sutras like he.
And the names Blessed of the One — why, he learnt
them all in a few lessons ! And how astonished the
Tlieros were when his ordination to the Upasampada
took place ! Ah, that was a day to be remembered ! '

Young monks would frequently come and listen to
the reminiscences. The old man, barely heeding them,
would go on with his life in the past. ' That was a
day, to be sure ! Such a congregation of Theros, and
such a splendid procession of elephants ! For was he
not the friend and companion of the young prince ?
And the prince and the great nobles all came. He
had his doubts then — my brave boy — and it was hard
to get his consent, but he said at last that he " saw
nothing better." Better, indeed ! I should think not,
than such an ordination as that. They said it was the
finest the college had ever known, And I could have

134 THE PANSALA

burst out laiigliing, but for tlie sacreclness of tlie place,
wlien they asked the question whether he was free from
bodily infirmity. Why, he looked 'as if he belonged to
another race. What an arm he had ! I wish he was
here to lift me with it now — I led him forward to the
chief priest. How proud I was ! They said it was
comical to see a little fellow like me introducing a
giant — I was old then, he had only seen twenty Wass
seasons, and I three times that number — and it was
not so long ago ; but I feel much older now.

' Ah, I remember him when he was so small, and
he used to write beautiful letters on the sand on the
pansala floor. And one day he drew a caricature of
me on the sanded floor, and the boys laughed. It was
wrong ! He saw that I was grieved, the little lad !
And he came to where I was sitting, and rested his
head on my shoulder and wept, so penitent was he !
And I wept too, for I was beginning to get old, even
then, and I loved him, you see. But what was I talking
of ? Oh yes, it was the ordination ! How beaiitifuUy
lighted the great hall was that night ! And how
grand he looked as he stood before them all, and said
in that flrm clear voice, three times, " I request
Upasampada."'

' But what have I to do with such thoughts as these
now, and what have such affections as these to do with
the holy ones ? Oh, my son ! My son ! He is great,
but I think sometimes that he is in trouble, and still
wants his old tutor's guidance.

' Away, foolish thoughts ! Ah, these are the demons
that would tempt me from the " fourth way." And yet
sometimes they do not seem evil things. The struggle
is severe, and I am old now.

THE PANS ALA 135

' Is that tliee, my son ? Of course it is ! Thy
appearance sent me back again into the okl days — and
not so very okl either ; but it must end before long,
and I much fear I shall pass away without the blessed
attainment for which I have been striving. Why, even
that fear may be sinful. Dost think it is ? I am glad
thou art here. The moon is nearly at the full, and I
have been wishing that I might sit to-night where the
holy Mahindo breathed his last. As soon as the night
comes, and it will not be long now — no, not long ! Put
thy arm around me, boy — what an arm it was, to be
sure ! — and help me there, that we may talk together
in that sacred place.'

This recalling of the past was not unusual in such
visits. Abhayo sat on a stone by the hermit's side, and
tears filled his eyes at the thought of his old tutor's
love for him, and as he compared that past of happiness
with the present of doubt and trial. He said but little,
and when the okl man's talk had ended he reverently
embraced him.

At last night came on and the moon rose. ' Ah, I
thought so,' said the hermit ; ' I have watched many
moons from here. To-morrow is the full moon. I can
tell by the light. And now the Wass begins. Thy
arm, my son ! '

Tenderly and strongly was the long right arm of
the young Tliero thrown around the hermit. Up the
higher flights of steps they went, the okl man scarcely
Avalking, he Avas rather being carried. Abhayo hu-
moured him as he said : ' Why, this is like returning
youth. It does not oppress me at all ; but I had for-
gotten for the moment that it is thy great arm after all.
Ah, that was an arm ! '

136 THE P ANSA LA

'• But, venerable sir, thou art stronger and certainly
younger than when I saw thee last. Here we are on
the Bed of Mahindo. "What a glorious night it is ! '

Nothing could be finer than the moonlit scene
which lay before them. The great white temples rising
from the dark groves, and the white sheen on the Tissa
"Wewa and other great tanks, added strikingly to the
impressiveness of the scene.

And there they sat and talked together, the strong
arm still supporting the aged man. Under the in-
fluence of the night, but probably more because of the
companionship of the loved pupil of other days, the
hermit's mind grew clearer ; and Abhayo soon found
himself telling him of his troubles, and he opened out
his heart to him as a son would to a father who was full
of paternal affection for him. The loneliness which a
man feels with the dropping away of old friends was
coming over him, and he grasped the old withered body
with a tender tightness, feeling that here at least was a
heart that he might call home. He had many thoughts
of the Syrian, and it must be confessed that he thought
much of the Syrian's daughter, but he could not well
follow them, and he had not visited Thomas since they
had left.

Once or twice, in the course of the conversation, the
hermit declared that he would leave the cave and go
into the city, he would expose it all ! And then he
would pat Abhayo's arm playfully and say, ' Why, but
for this I could not even sit up ! How I wish I could
help thee, lad ; but alas ! I shall never become the holy
Arhat with such thoughts as these.'

' My beloved master, doest thou right to afflict
thyself because of thy affections and desires ? I am

THE PANS AT, A 137

free to confess that they are unworthily placed — they
are indeed! But I believe that in thee they are as
lioly — nay, holier than the Vpelisha Bhawaim} How
can it be right to crush the most blessed emotions of
our hearts, to destroy the noblest faculties that we
have ? '

' Hush ! This is perhaps the heresy of which they
talk. I know not. But still, I would help thee, lad.
Oh, my boy, my brave boy ! What can I do for thee ?
I would delay even the rest of Nirvana to do thee
service.'

' Do not think I would speak lightly, dear master,
of a faith which is so precious to thee, and has been so
precious to me. Thou art the most unselfish being
breathing, but the faith is selfish. " Save thyself," it
says, — '■■ by any means and all means." '

' Say not so, my son ! Now thou art speaking from
the bitterness of thy troubles. We are commanded to
do good to all living creatures. Kindness to all things
is enjoined on us.'

'True, my best of friends, but only for my own
merit, that the merit may outweigh the demerit in my
poor miserable Karma; and what is the end of it all —
death to the affections, indifference towards all ? How
can that be true kindness ? Ah, if w^e could pray, then
we might help each other. If we could but pray ! '

' Pray, my son ! What would that do for thee ?
Is it not better to leave it all, to turn thy back on cities
and courts, for the undisturbed serenity to be found in
the life of the higher meditation ? '

' The mode prescribed for the mcdltaiion of ctiuanimity. in which
all sentient beings are regarded alike. This is the highest form of
meditation, and is necessary to Arhatship,

138 THE PANS ALA

' Wliat becomes of the others, of the multitudes
from whom we separate ourselves? How can such a
life help them, a life of solitary meditation without
prayer ? '

' To whom should we pray ? '

' Ah, that, my oldest friend, is the difficulty.
Where shall we go with our prayers ? Where is the
true Sarana ? What if there be, after all, a Creator
God, who made all these, this beautiful earth and that
glorious moon ? There is such a manifest purpose about
them all, it cannot be that they came into existence of
themselves. There must be a mind above all these
glorious material forms. My dear old friend, there
must be a God. To us He is unknown, but He may
perchance hear men when they pray, and give them
help ; who knows ? '

' Who knows ? ' echoed the hermit thoughtfully.
' Then some time, every day, will I send out from the
side of this holy mountain into the great space around
us a prayer for help and blessing on my boy. It can
do no harm, and it may be that the unknown God will
hear ; who knows ? '

The shout of worship rang out over Mihintala.
The old man said : ' Child, thou art tired, strong as thou
art. Help me back, and get to thy duties. The worship
hour has come.'

Lightly and carefully Abhayo helped him back to
the cave, reverently offered him the food which had
been brought for him as a sick member of the order,
and then left for the hall of refection.

On the next day the Wass ceremonies began. A
preacher was brought down from the Maha Wihara in
great state. In the procession an elephant bore, under

THE PANS ALA 139

a white canopy, a sacred relic ; next came another

elephant bearing the ola-books ; and next, in a bean-

tifully decorated palanquin, came the invited priest, in

the order of the three Gems or Refuges (the Tun-Sarana),

the Buddha, the Doctrine, and the Priesthood.

The principal duty of the day was to receive the

offerings of the people, which function was performed

in a temporary building made of poles and thatched

leaves. Up to the priest the offerings were carried and

laid on a temporary altar at which he stood. When

the offertory was finished, the people fell on their knees

in worship, and while they knelt the priestly benediction

said in the Pali tongue : —

May j'our desire and your happiness

Soon be accomplished !

May your hopes be fulfilled

Like as the moon becomes round ! '

After which, with shouts of ' Sddliu ! SddJin ! ' the
jDeople retired, leaving the prit^sts to prepare the offer-
ings for the principal meal.

It was then that a great trial befell Abhayo. His
position in the monastery had always been one of great
influence, though there were several who were his
seniors. In the ordinary course of things it was his
duty on this occasion to make the preliminary offering
at the altar and divide the food for the priests. But it
was intimated to him that, as this sacred office could
not be performed by priests who are liable to censure,
the duty was to be performed by another of the brethren.
It was said kindly, but to Abhayo it was the clearest
indication of the rising storm. He ate his food in
solitude. He sat on in silence, wondering where it

' Dickson's translation of the Wass service.

140 THE FANS ALA

would end. .Should lie fly ? How lie would like to
see Joseph aud — but no, he must remain, and as he
sat he could hear the Wass preacher in the adjoining
hall chanting the invocation, ' Praise to the Blessed
One, the Holy One, the Author of all truth ! '

Then the people followed, repeating as with one
voice the three ' Refuges ' and the first five precepts of
the ' Sil.' And then he said to himself, ' How can I
bear this ? My brethren are deserting me. It will
break that dear old man's heart to have me visited with
the censure of my college. The people are rejoicing in
" Sarana," are they ? They have three Saranas, the
Buddha, the Doctrine, and the Order. Oh, if I could
but find rest in either ! ' Then he thought of Joseph,
and of his advice on parting ; and he said, ' I will go
and see Thomas, the Christian presbyter.'

CHAPTER X.

PASTORAL.

Near it the village of Senani reared

Its roofs of grass, nestled amid the palms,

Peaceful with simple folk and pastoral toils.

Edwin Aenold.

Several weeks had passed since Joseph and his
daughter had arrived at Jambugama. They had at
first intended staying only a few days. The dry season
had lasted long. The messenger who came occasion-
ally with l3usiness communications spoke of the heat
in Annradhapura as intense. But the village was com-
paratively cool, and our Syrian friends were more
attached to country life than ever. It grew upon them
with a daily increasing delight.

And I should like to say, if I may be permitted to
put in a word here, that there are few experiences more
charming now than a few weeks' residence, at the
proper time of the year, in such a village in the interior
of Ceylon. Nobody can be said to know the land who
has not had such an experience and has not interested
himself in the country people and their customs. There
is, of course, in the modern Ceylon village (not very
different from the ancient, we may be sure), as in most
villages and cities, much that one is desirous to avoid,

142 PASTORAL

but there is also very much that is picturesque ; and
there are many scenes of quiet beauty, in which one
may experience a restful delight. Chatting with the
simple villagers, if you know their language, will form
a never-failing source of interest, pleasure, and amuse-
ment. It offers a splendid field of study to the natural-
ist, and, taking it altogether, there are not many such
opportunities for a holiday as a few weeks in such a
village would afford. But let us get back to our story.

The j ambus had ripened and gone — and what
beauties they had been ! How lovely they had looked
as they crowded the trees with their little round apples,
covered with that inviting rose-colour, spreading all
ever the smooth, polished surface ! And how the village
children rejoiced in the large quantities that fell from
the trees ! The mangoes had also ripened and gone.
And what were all the delights of the city, with the
processions, the elephants, and the bands of music, to
the youngsters, compared with such a paradise as this
in the time of the ripe mangoes?

The mango is a homely-looking fruit, not nearly
so pretty "US the jambu, but the beauty of the latter is
outside, while the mango (when it is good) is all good
and beautiful within its plain leathery coat.

Joseph tried to make a parable one day for the
children out of the fruits, but without success. They
were too much occupied with the fruits themselves to
pay attention to parables. Kumari was in high glee
at times, but she sometimes had a great deal of nursing
to do, and she began asking her mistress about return-
ing to the city.

The paddy had been gathered from most of the
fields, but some of the farmers were late, and amongst

PASTORAL 143

tliem Sikki Banda. But even witli him the harvest
had begun. The lucky day for commencing had been
ascertained from the village astrologer, and, after a
preparatory ceremony, the first sickle was thrust in
amongst the slender spears of rice corn, tipped with
silver and russet gold.

Then the work went on with a will. The women
worked in one part of a field and the men in another,
and they sang, as they worked, such songs as would
tend to prevent the fairies (the ' little people ') from
causing injury to the produce of the fields. They sang
of offerings which they meant to present at the altar
of Buddha, and to the gods ; and they sang of the
coming Buddha, in order to avert all bad omens.

One in each party would lead the song with the
solo part, and the swish of the sickle kept up a rhythmic
accompaniment ; then all would fall into the chorus.
And sometimes this choir-leader would extemporise
and introduce a bit of fun with local and personal
references, and a merry, hearty laugh would check the
chorus. And when two parties would near each other
in the reaping, the choruses would unite into a pleasant
harmonv of voices, though it must be confessed that
much of the singing was like that of Chaucer's St.
Eloyse, who ' entuned the service sweetly in her nose.'

Some of the reapers were mere children, and a
beautiful sight it was to see their little bright laughing-
faces and dark figures in the midst of the standing
corn. x\nd how delighted they were, these youngsters,
when a hare was started by the approach of the chorus,
or a paddy-bird was frightened out of its nest and rose
in the air with great flapping of wings and uttering
shrill curses on the intruders ! And they were pleased

144 PASTORAL

when the chorus had got on go far witli their Work as to
reach the hillock in the niidclle of the field, where the
big jak-tree grcAv and gave them such a grateful shade.
That was much more to them than the glorious colour
formed by the clusters of purple Bowitiya blossom, a
little way off, surrounded by the corn that was so soon
to fall. Purple and gold ! There is nothing more
beautiful in Nature than such a combination. Joseph
pointed it out to Irene as they looked on, and watched
the reapers from where they sat in the shade of large
jak-trees at the foot of the hill.

Kumari's brothers were stationed about in little
' sentry-boxes ' perched on high poles, where they had
instructions to yell the most horrible cries that the
voices of Sinhalese youth can compass, to frighten
away birds and demons. At first it was glorious play
to the boys, but like all play, when long continued, it
gradually developed into work, and the cries, which at
first seemed evolved from the frantic delight of young
fiends, echoed lazily and not unpleasantly across the
valley.

Kumari envied them their employment. She
thought it much better fun than nursing baby. It was
the same baby who was honoured with a sort of half
introduction to the reader in a previous chapter, in
which we got to the eve of the naming-day. He was
nearly a year old, and it was time for him to begin
eating rice. This is an important epoch in Sinhalese
child-life. The astrologer had been consulted, the
horoscope studied afresh, and a fortunate day selected
for giving the hat-nama or ' rice-name.' Invitations
were sent out to all the relatives and friends in the
neighbourhood. And they are all generally in the

PASTORAL 145

same neiglibourliood. Kiri Bantla was a notorious
exception. And there was a large assembly at tlie
house of Sikki Banda. Kumari was very important,
and took great pleasure in explaining to Irene what
every part of the ceremony meant.

At the lucky hour, Sikki Banda's aged father came
forward to where the mother stood with the most im-
portant personage in the ceremony, the baby-boy, in
her arms ; both of them — as indeed were most of the
guests — richly dressed in robes and jewels. The old
grandfather then took a little rice between his fingers
and put it in the child's mouth and whispered the name
into the ear of the infant, who did not appear to be
profoundly impressed by the information thus myste-
riously imparted ; nor did he appear to relish the new
style of food to which he had been treated with so
much ceremony. The name was only to be used in the
child's infancy.

This was followed by an elaborate entertainment.
First the men sat down together, and after them tlie
women, and a delicious repast was served to each on a
piece of fresh plantain-leaf.

On that same day too, as Kumari had said, Anula,
the Indian lady, had arrived. She had been well
escorted, as suited her condition. And now the Wass
had begun, and she had stayed on in the village, partly
for religious observances and partly because a strong
attachment had grown up between herself and the
daughter of the Syrian.

The Sinhalese tongue was to her an easy acquisition,
from the extensive knowledge which she already pos-
sessed of the languages (Sanskrit and Pali) from which
it was denved, and which made her language so different

146 PASTORAL

from the talk of the villagers that Kumari called her
' A very deep lady.'

And, after a time, she conversed freely with Joseph
himself. We have already said that the women had
much greater freedom in those ancient days in Eastern
lands than they possess now. Without father and
mother, Joseph regarded her with a somewhat paternal
interest ; and on her part she thought that, but for the
difference of religion and race, she could look up to
him as to a father.

The three often talked together of those matters
which lay nearest to the heart of each, for they were all
ardent disciples, the one of the Buddha, and the other
two of the Christ. They conversed on these topics
with great gentleness and forbearance. Not a word of
harshness or ridicule was used on either side. It was
a matter that was too serious for ridicule, Joseph had
said ; and the differences ought to move to compassion
rather than unkindnc^ss. And this forbearance and
tenderness had great weight with the thoughtful Indian
girl, for she knew something of the terrible controversy
raging between the Brahmanists and Buddhists in her
own land, and she would tell of the ridicule which
had been heaped upon her friends professing the
faith of Gautama, and of the fierce persecution which
was driving them from some parts of North and Central
India.

They had been interested greatly in her description
of the inauguration of the new faith of the ' Reconciler'
at Anuradhapura. She laughed a bright rippling laugh,
which illuminated her beautiful face, as she spoke of
the interruptions which occurred in the course of
Alypius's opening address, and tried to mimic the ap-

PASTORAL 147

pearance of Leah. And tlieu she would excuse herself
and say : ' Perhaps I ought not to laugh. But this is
not a true faith ; at any rate, it is not true Buddhism.
My studies have made that clear to me ; and, as the
Mihintala Thero intimated, it conceded too much to be
a true faith of any kind. The Jewess looked as if she
were in a trance all the time until the collection was
made, and then I noticed that she looked particularly
alive.'

' Ah, thou art not one of the initiated ! ' Irene
ventured to say, with a touch of irony.

' No ; there were only three in all the assembly who
were not enrolled — the Mihintala Thero, myself, and
a funny little Sinhalese man, who slept through it all
with his great black head resting against a wall.'

' Ah,' replied Irene, clapping her hands, ' I know
him ; that is Kiri Banda ! He is our host's brother,
and is in the service of the royal astrologer — a sort of
general factotum. He is such a droll fellow ! And
why didst thou not join them, my friend ? Was it
because of what the Thero said ? ' This with a little
look of arch interrogation.

' It did not appear to me consistent with the faith
of the Blessed One. It seemed to degrade it altogether.
Therefore, I resolved to wait and see if it should prove
worthy. That was the There's advice, and I mean to
follow it. I have since been alternately scolded and
laughed at, because of my excessive caution, by Dharma
Sen and other of my friends ; and shortly after the
great meeting I had a visit from Leah — my princess
is much taken with her, and so is the queen, as Well as
other ladies of high rank — and she, Leah, told me that
a " certain high personage " was deeply grieved with

148 PASTORAL

me for abstaining from the enrolment, and she evidently
thought it would make an impression. I have had
hints in that direction before. She seemed surprised
at the slight effect it had on me. And I said that my
faith was more to me than that, and that my religious
belief did not sit so lightly on me as it appeared to
with some. But she is a fascinating woman, this Leah.
Dost thou know her ? She is of thy nation, and was of
thy religion, I think.'

' Not exactly of our nation, and only nominally of
our religion ; but there are many Jews and Jewesses in
the city. I think my father knows her, but his ac-
quaintance is only of the slightest. She must be an
extraordinary person.'

' Undoubtedly ; but it may be my excessive caution,
I do not think, she is to be trusted. Just now, the
city is full of her praises. Popular favour is altogether,
or nearly so, on the side of the " adepts," as they are
called, though, I believe, the Greek does not profess to
be an " adept " himself; he only claims it for the " co-
founder," as he styles the Jewess. And she, if rumour
is to be credited, does many marvellous things. A
golden and jewelled ornament which had long ago been
lost by the queen was found in a most unlikely place
by her agency. Epistles written on the ola leaf have
come in the most mysterious way suddenly, as if from
the skies, or from the roofs of houses, addressed to most
distinguished persons, from the "Reconciler " and other
great spirits ; and the letters have had reference to
conversations which were being held at the time.
There are glaring inconsistencies in the woman's cha-
racter, but that is all explained by the " dual nature "
which she claims for herself, Jn the one nature shq

PASTORAL 149

permits herself great freedom, not to say license ; in
the other she is all that is pure and good. It is true
that our Arhats and Rishis have produced wonderful
manifestations, but these people are not of that class.
No, indeed, anything but that ! '

This was a little talk between the two. Here
Irene's father joined them, and described the develop-
ments of Neo-Platonism and Gnosticism in the West ;
and they had no difficulty in identifying some of the
leading features of those systems with the new religion
of the ' Reconciler ' recently propounded in Anuradha-
pura.

The reaping lasted but a few days, and this was
followed by the drying and threshing. A threshing-
floor was got ready in a large field, another fortunate
day ascertained and another ceremony performed. The
buffaloes were roused from two or three big pools, in
which for days they had been wallowing with a look
expressive of the utmost content with their mud bath ;
it must be allowed, however, that the buffalo's face is
not capable of a great variety of expression. And now
they were made to go through the monotonous round
of treading out the corn.

The bringing in of the bundles was almost as great
a delight to the young people as the reaping. One
day- — towards the cool of the evening — our little party,
accompanied by Kumari, went out to watch the pro-
ceedings. They sat under a clump of trees which
covered a slight eminence, from which all the operations
on the field were visible. Irene was anxious to take
some part in the harvesting, and throwing her light
veil over her head, she went across the field picking up
scattered corn, the gleanings that were left. Joseph

150 PASTORAL

looked at lier dreamily and said : ' Yes, it is a picture of
the old days, and so might Ruth have gone into the
corn-fields of Boaz.'

Anula and Kumari sat and watched, the former
looking on with thoughtful admiration at the beautiful
picture presented by the graceful, curving figure of
the Syrian girl, while Kumari was compelled, much
against her inclination, to remain with the baby.

And when Irene returned laden with a small sheaf
of rice-corn and various flowers of the field, blue and
red, with the starlike white of the jasmine, the other
girls set to work to weave the gleanings into a coronet,
with which they crowned her, and that done, Kumari
made a wreath with no little art, and threw it round her
mistress's neck, Joseph regarding her the while with
much paternal pride. So might Ruth have been
crowned, and so might she have looked, when made by
the husbandman's favour the queen of the field.

And, as the queen, Irene was to hold a mimic court,
the girls professed to make obeisance, and Joseph was
told laughingly that he must do the same. And baby
was made to bend his little fat naked body and do
fuialh with closed hands to the newly-made queen.
The pets were brought forward also to show their
loyalty. The buffalo with the broken horn thought
that her milkiug-time was come, and came slowly at
the call of Kumari, who explained the situation to her,
while she scratched the great rough, broad head. The
dogs came around, wondering what new sensation was
being provided for them, and whether it would mean
a scrap of anything to eat. The myna, much to the
amusement of all, sprang on to Irene's shoulder with a
great show of profound and affectionate loyalty, but

PASTORAL 151

liaving all the time an evident liking for the ears of
corn in Irene's crown, uttering phrases in which reli-
gions and profane expressions mingled indifferently.

Then all the family of Sikki Banda gathered aronnd.
And the people engaged on the threshing-floor stopped
their curious chatter, in the language peculiar to
threshing-floors, and paused to gaze with the faintest
of smiles, and expressions of admiration, at the group
under the trees.

When the homage was over, the queen and her
courtiers still remained chatting together in the same
spot, and, as Irene said, nothing could be more beautiful.
The birds had not gone to rest, but were singing in the
trees, with all the energy imparted by the cool evening,
to make up for the long period of songlessness during
the heat of the day. Dove cooed soothingly in response
to dove, and underneath it all was the music of the
running stream which, when it was required, irrigated
the rice-fields.

Joseph talked of the Saviour in the fields of corn,
and described the appearance of those fields. Then
Anula brought forward incidents from the story of the
Buddha which were of a pastoral character, and she
dwelt fondly upon the love and compassion of the
Teacher for the animal world.

Joseph thought it a beautiful trait in the Buddha's
life and doctrine, but it was wanting in discrimination.
' Why, in that region of the higher life to which the
Buddha had attained, it would be as great a sin to
crush that gorgeous butterfly yonder on the corn as to
slay our queen of the fields ! It was not Gautama's
teaching alone; he derived it from other and older
masters, and I suppose it is the logical outcome of the

152

FASTOJiAL

transmigration theories. But it is an estimate of life
which is absolutely unworkable. It sets a low com-
parative value on humanity, and helps to prevent men
from rising to the heights of noble manhood, and
realising their true position in the universe of God.
Jesus of Nazareth has shown us how to be true men.'

' According to its Karma,' said Anula, ' life rises
from the lower forms to the higher. Surely there is
no inconsistency in that ? '

' Perhaps not, theoretically, but there is a glaring
inconsistency in those laws of Karma which may, for
one slight offence offered to the priesthood, degrade the
loftiest intellect and a godlike manhood down to the
state of the most loathsome insect. But let us avoid
controversy if we can, and give ourselves up to the
quiet delight of the evening.'

' We can happily talk of these things without being
controversial. Was Jesus of Nazareth kind to animals ?
I have heard that in that respect He was not like our
glorious Buddha.'

' He was as kind and compassionate to the creature;?
of the lower creation, my child, as the Buddha ; but, as
God, He estimated their life at its true value. I have
always regarded the estimate placed on such life by the
Buddha as one of the greatest infirmities of a noble
mind. What can we say, for instance, of the story in
which he offers himself to the starving tiger ? Admit-
ting its authenticity, what profound ignorance does it
show of the true value of his own life ! and what a
want of consistency in the encouragement offered to
cruelty in the tiger ! With such examples and under this
system, self-murder and homicide become less heinous
than the slaying of serpents.

PASTORAL 153

' The Christ declares man to be of greater value than
the birds, but in one of the most touching of His
parables He shows with what tenderness He regarded
the dumb animal life which surrounded Him, And on
another occasion, in speaking of the Providence of God,
He said : " Not a sparrow falleth to the ground without
your Heavenly Father's notice." '

' What is the parable you refer to ? I should like
to hear it.'

And Joseph told the Story of the Lost Sheep and the
Good Shepherd; and none could fail to be impressed
with the manner in which the old man told that mar-
vellously beautiful illustration of the Redeemer's loving-
kindness and compassion.

When he had finished, Irene broke in with the
remark, ' And He was so fond of children ! I shouldn't
like a Saviour who was not fond of children.'

This remark was not intended to imply that the
Buddha was devoid of that quality, but it set Anula
thinking and trying to remember, without success, some
incident in the life of Sakya Muni which would illus-
trate a love of the little ones.

After a little pause, Joseph said : ' What could be
more appropriate now, or fit in more suitably with the
spirit of the evening hour, than sweet music ? Sing
for us, my daughter, sing the song of the Son of Man ! '
They had during their stay in the village put the great
story into Sinhalese verse, to be sung to a metre which
Joseph had learnt in the old days at Antioch.

It has not been referred to before in this narrative,
but the Syrian girl had in her voice a precious gift with
which she had frequently cheered the exiles in the city
home. Aud now, as she stood and sang the opening

154 PAS7VRAL

stanza, still crowned with the corn and the flowers,
Anula thought she had never heard or seen anything so
sweet in all her life.

It was not mechanical ; every word was full of the
soul-breath as well as the breath of the body. She sang
of the little child in Bethlehem, of the carpenter's house
at Nazareth where the King of kings lived and worked,
of the temptation in the desert, of how the Holy One
healed the sick, fed the hungry, and brought a mighty
comfort to all. Then the bereaved home in Bethany
was the theme, and the singer looked as if she could
really see the Living One standing in the house of death.
On the voice went to the festival where the grateful
anointing took place; and the Syrian girl looked, as
she sang, as if she could have clasped the hands of that
other Syrian girl in the Bethany story. Down the voice
went into the garden of the agony with the cry, ' If
Thou wilt, let this cup pass from Me ! ' Tears filled the
singer's eyes, Anula could scarcely control her sobs, and
Joseph leant his face on his hands, while the children
looked up at Irene, their great eyes filled with awe.

On the voice went to the cross with the bitter wail,
'My God! My God! why hast Thou forsaken Me?'
Then a pause of deep silence, as if it had gone down
into the abode of the dead, to rise again in a glorious
burst of melody, which made smiles replace the tears in
the joyous cry, ' He is risen ! He is risen ! ' Then the
song finished, and the little audience listened, speech-
less, as if to hear more. The doves cooed again sooth-
ingly in the trees, and the little stream made music as
it ran underneath.

' Oh, father,' said Irene at last, ' let us remain here !
What are riches to us ? God is so near us here, let us

PASTORAL 155

Stay ! And she looked as if slie had seen a vision of
God.

' That is like the holy Apostle Peter in the Gospel-
story, and thou would say with him, " Let us build
three tabernacles." I would willingly remain, but '

' May peace be with thee, Joseph, and with these fair
ladies ! ' It was the Greek Alypius who stood before
them, bowing.

During the singing he had approached them un-
observed. ' Can this be Irene, or is it Ceres, as the
Romans call our Demeter, come to extend her rule over
this portion of the earth ? Nay, but it was a Christian
song which I heard but now in a voice which, Or-
pheus-like, might tame the wildest of beasts. Joseph,
I bring thee important tidings from the city, where thy
presence is immediately required.'

1S6

CHAPTER XL

THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD.

They stood aloof, the scars remaining,
Like cliffs which had been rent asunder.

Coleridge, Chrlstalel.

Abhayo Thero, wlien he had made up his mind to a
thing, was soon on his way to its fulfihnent. He had
no sooner determined on paying a visit to the Christian
presbyter than he proceeded to carry it into effect. It
had been practically conceded to him long ago, that he
was not expected to be bound by the ordinary restric-
tions of the brotherhood. His rank and influence were
great, and, although not sufficient to prevent the en-
forcement of some of the strictest rules of the ' order,'
yet the ' brethren ' were ready to make allowances for
his erratic character, and long walks from his monas-
tery even during the Wass season, when the monks are
all supposed to be in residence, were not regarded in
him as grave offences. The liability of censure, to which
he was now subject, made it necessary for him to give
information to the senior brother as to his movements.
On other occasions this had not been necessary for him,
and this new experience of a limit on his liberty was
painfully galling to such a nature as his.

It was not that there would be any difficulty ; he
knew the sympathetic, kindly nature of the old man who

THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD 157

presided over the monastery. The senior, in common
with most of the brethren, had the highest respect for
Abhayo's talents and acquirements, and they had
winked at some heretical tendencies, which, so far as
they could see, did in no way identify him with the
Buddhist factions with which they were at enmity.
But now hints that an investigation should be made had
reached them from quarters which they could neither
afford to despise nor ignore. This was explained to
Abhayo by the head of the establishment in the kindest
way, half apofogising for the manner in which he had
been treated at refection, but earnestly urging him to
keep to the orthodox lines.

After promising that he would be ready when
wanted, and that he would not go beyond the city
boundaries, the young Thero was soon in the Sacred
Way again, walking with his long stride and swinging
gait towards the heart of the city. And as lie walked
the night came on.

He had no retinue, and rarely took a servant with
him on his walks, as did other monks ; and nobody who
knew him thought it at all strange to see him journeying
alone on such a night as this, when the full moon gives
opportunity for cool and comfortable travel.

The walk was doing him good. Ho had lived much
in the open air, and had frequently realised the effect
which a walk under a clear, moonlit sky had in quiet-
ing such little worries and troubles as occasionally arose
in the life of the monastery. And to-night he felt as if
lifted into communion with the skies. He could almost
imagine that it was another than himself, walkinsr alone-

c* ■'00

between the gilded shrines, statues^ and small white
tjagobas.

158 THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD

It was late before he reached the house of Joseph
in the foreign quarter. Thomas, who was on the roof,
enjoying the cool night, knew, as soon as the unex-
pected visitor was announced, that such a visit, at
such a time, would not be made without some important
reason ; and his first thoughts were of his dear friends,
Joseph and Irene. It was a great relief to know that
the visitor brought no ill news of them, and it was a
happiness to realise that he was called upon to minister
to a mind diseased, and to such a mind as that of Abhayo.

Thomas was not a proficient talker in Sinhalese,
but he had long made the language of the Damilos a
study, assisted by the linguistic abilities of Joseph and
Irene, which were of no mean order, in the hope that
he might be useful to the large numbers of that people
dwelling in the city, when the time should come for
him to break through the comparative seclusion of his
present habits. His vocabulary was large, and the
difficulties of idiom did not interfere much with the
success of such a conversation as that which he now
entered upon with the Buddhist priest, who understood
the language of the Damilos almost as well as his own,
and who did his utmost to make his part in the con-
versation intelligible to his auditor.

They sat together on the flat roof, and talked for
hours of the Buddha and the Christ, for, talk as they
Avould about systems, they invariably found themselves
coming to these great central personalities for the illus-
trations which they needed.

Abhayo propounded the anxious question whether
it Avas not possible to amalgamate the two systems of
faith. Was it not possible for a good Christian to hold
such liberal views of Buddhism as would recognise in

THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD 159

the teaching of Gautama a divine revelation for the
nations of the East hitherto nnvisited by the light of
the Gospel of Christ ? Was it not, after all, very much
a matter of race and locality ?

From many of his conversations with Joseph, he
said, he had gathered that Christianity was evolved out
of Judaism, just as Buddhism was evidently a develop-
ment of old Hindu faiths and philosophies.

Herethe Syrian pastor observed that this was not
a correct deduction, as he would know if he would make
a careful comparison of the Old and New Testament
scriptures. It would make it altogether a growth of
the human mind, and not a revelation, and that was
one of the chief distinctions between the two faiths.

' The one,' he said, ' is of the earth, earthy ; the
other is the Lord from heaven ! I have heard you
admit', in conversations with my friend, that the great
power of deliverance was not to be found in man him~
self. The lower must be lifted by the higher, and the
leverage must be higher than the thing to be lifted.
It is at this point of confessed helplessness that Chris-
tianity comes with the power of God to the rescue of
a fallen race.'

' It is true,' replied Abhayo ; ' wherever one turns
in Buddhism it is " self," " self," " self-work," " suffer,"
'^ work," with no outside help. I did not think it was
possible to put the Christ and the Buddha together,
but it ought not to be impossible that there should be
a larger tolerance on both sides.'

' Mercy there is, and toleration there may be, but
amalgamation there cannot be ; if there can be no fel-
lowship between the Christ and the Buddha, there can
be no amalgamation of their doctrines, and no true

i6o THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD

union between tlieir followers. How is it possible that
there can be union between Christianity and a faith or
philosophy which denies the existence of God and of
the immortal soul ? '

' But all Buddhists do not do that.'

' Then I should say, from what I have gathered
fi'om yourself and others well versed in the Buddhist
svstem, that they were not true disciples of Gautama.'

' I have watched,' said Abliayo, ' the lives of some
Christian traders in Anuradhapura, and have found
them not at all holier in life or more upright in their
business dealings than many of our own faith. And
that has sometimes made me think that faith after all
was perhaps a matter of race and climate.'

' It is natural to look at the lives of the professors
of a faith,' said the Christian pastor, ' as affording a
standard whereby to judge of the faith itself, and that
Tuakes the Christian name a fearful responsibility in
such a life as ours ; but why go to the worst for ex-
amples — you who have seen so much of the life of
our dear friends in whose house we are now met ?
The general influence of a faith on mankind or on
masses of people may form a proper ground for deduc-
tion in such a matter as this, but not such instances
as you have hinted at, where the profession of attach-
ment was only nominal. In Christianity, as in Bud-
dhism, it is one thing to be called a disciple, and another
thing to be one.'

' Forgive me ! ' broke in the priest, ' but such
thoughts will come to us all, and my doubts are mani-
fold and strong.'

' Truth is not, and never can be, a matter of race or
climate, It is unchaqgeable in all ages, places, and

THE NEW FRIEND AND THE CLD i6i

climes. Interpretations may be various, and the lives
of those professing to be guided by its light may be
inconsistent, but the Truth will always remain the
same, and forms the one divine standard for all times
and places. The Christ claimed to be the Truth, and
in doing so challenged the application of the tests by
which men seek to discover Truth. I would speak
with admiration and reverence for much of Gautama's
teaching, but is there not in it much that will not
stand the application of the Truth standard ? AVhy be
satisfied with fragments of a statue covered with the
soil of earth when the Living Truth Himself may be
ours ? Why blunder on with broken lights, Avhen we
may go to Him who is the Light of the world ? '

' Ah — and how may we reach Him ? '

' By prayer. He is with us now, and I believe it is
His Holy Spirit which has led thee here.'

' If I could but see Him ! ' said the priest, ' then
the light might come.'

Then Thomas, standing up with his hand lifted
towards the glorious sky, prayed with an earnestness
and power which Abhayo felt to be real, and to betoken
an intercourse which was not infrequent, that God
would open the eyes of his friend and pour into his soul
the divine light which would enable him to recognise
in Jesus the Truth, the Saviour of the world.

The priest was deeply impressed, and felt as if he
could realise the divine presence in the inspiration of
that moment. He then began to speak of the difficulties
which he was beginning to encounter and of the hard-
ships of his position, and from this they went on to
speak of persecution. And Abhayo spoke as if it was
easy for his new teachpj' tp talk of how he should behave

l62 THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD

iu tlie midst of troubles wliicli he had not to endure
himself. He thought the Syrian did not sufficiently
realise what persecutions would follow on a declaration
of attachment to the Christian faith to such as himself.
It was then that Thomas told him his story, without
mentioning his cruel wife ; and we may judge with what
feeling of sympathy the listener followed the narrative,
and with Avhat surprise he saw the speaker draw out
from within tlie folds of his robe the scorched and
withered hand, which testified to sufferings on account
of conviction and ftxith such as he had not yet been
called on to endure.

After a brief rest, as soon as the sun had risen,
Abhayo left the house with many expressions of thanks
on his part, and with many exhortations to steadfastness
and courage on the part of Thomas. He had ascertained
that Joseph and Irene were so much in love with the
life of their country retreat that their absence might
be indefinitely prolonged. It had made him sad to
receive such information, for he had looked forward
with great hope to their return, but he was thankful
to find in their absence such a helper and guide as
their friend and pastor.

He had turned down into the street leading to the
Maha Wihara, thinking of what was before him in the
course of life which he now felt bound to pursue, and
especially of the attitude which was being taken towards
him by his friends, when his thoughts naturally dwelt
on his friend the artist-prince, and he said, ' I will
return and see him at once as soon as I have attended
to a duty at the Brazen Palace ; he is sure to be in his
studio now, for he loves the early morning for such work.'
He returned by the great North and South Street,

THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD 163

in wliicli at that early hour the scavengers were busily
engaged in finishing the duties assigned to them before
the traffic of the day should fill this great artery of
the city. Passing beneath the gallery on Avhich the
palace of the tooth-relic had recently been built, and
where graceful columns with elegant capitals surrounded
the Thuparama Dagoba, he turned to the left by a street
which led close by the banks of the Abhaya-Wewa and
the Viyan-kulam Tanks on beyond the Lankaramaya
Dagoba, past the royal palace, into the deep cool shade
of the mighty mountain of masonry which formed the
Jetawanarama Dagoba, and on to the house which was
set apart to Prince Detu.

It was familiar ground to Abliayo, and he entered
the palace-yard, enclosed by mighty granite monoliths,
without being deeply impressed by the surroundings.
His travels in India had made him acquainted with
buildings of greater architectural beauty and magnifi-
cence, but as he passed through the corridors, with the
numerous pillars of elegantly carved woodwork in the
light of the early morning, there was a sad reflection in
his mind that perhaps this was the last time that he
would be permitted to enter the jorince's house on the
old friendly footing. His friendship with Detu liad
been very dear to him, not simply on account of his
high rank and great influence, but because of his
unusual ability and affectionate disposition, and there
had been between them the strong attachment which,
in those days always existed between tutor and pupil.
Though not much the prince's senior, Abhayo had
always regarded his royal friend with something like a
fatherly interest and affection. He knew how easily he
could be led by anything which presented the slightest

1 64 THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD

show of reason, and was fully aware of the dangers to
which his friend's want of firmness made him liable in
his exalted position. This made him fear for the future.

And he more than half dreaded the approaching
interview, as he thought of the coldness which the
prince had recently shown him and of the influence
which the authorities at the hall of the ' Reconciler '
had obtained over him. He had hoped great things
from Dliarma Sen, the friend from India ; but he too
was easily impressed, and had apparently been only too
glad to cast in his lot with a movement which promised
such great things in support of the Buddhist faith.
Abhayo knew that the prince had been no bigot, but he
also knew that he was devotedly attached to the faith of
his fathers, and he thought it not unlikely that he might
degenerate into a bigotry as zealous and unreasoning as
that of some of his ancestors, notwithstanding the loud
profession of liberal principles and charity which charac-
terised the disciples of the ' Reconciler.'

Thoughts like these had occupied his mind in the
morning walk. The sights of the journey had scarcely
attracted his attention. The hundreds of yellow-robed
priests and their attendants stirring about the Maha
Wihara like bees coming forth from a hive to engage in
their morning duties, and setting out from the Brazen
Palace with the alms-bowls slung from their shoulders,
to make the morning collection, received no more than
a passing thought, and many of them looked signifi-
cantly at each other as his well-known figure went by
with the usual rapid stride.

The prince would see him, an attendant said, and
led the way to the workshop or studio. Detu was
absorbed in what he spoke of as the great work of his

7 HE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD 165

life — a statue of Gautama tlie Vanquislier, which
should surpass anything of the kind ever seen in
Anuradhapura. He was not alone, as Abhayo had
expected to find him. Dharma Sen was there, giving
advice with regard to the work, and a few of the high-
born youths of the city were carefully employing their
tools on it under the direction of the artist-prince.

After addressing the visitor in the usual reverential
form, Detu proceeded with his work, while Dharma Sen
gave the priest a cold salutation and said : ' The Thero
has little sympathy, I presume, with such pursuits as
this, with a result which will command the worship of
the populace. If I remember rightly, I have heard our
orator condemn the worship of such statues as un-
worthy of the disciples of him who conquered " the five
deadly sins." '

A look of displeasure crossed the face of Detu, but
he continued apparently absorbed in the movements of
his pupils, afraid lest a false stroke should spoil this
triumph of his art. Abhayo replied : ' Thou knowTst
the words of the Vanquisher : if thou canst find any-
thing in them to countenance this universal image-
worship, I will most willingly concede the point in
favour of this beautiful creation of genius.'

A smile of satisfaction played across the refined
features of the prince, and he cast a grateful look for a
moment at his old friend, and said : ' It is my ambition
to realise what the presence of the Blessed One must
have been, and to help others to realise it by this
representation.'

' And right nobly and beautifully is the work done,
my prince ; but none the less effectually will it helj) for-
ward or downward that defeneration which shows itself

l66 THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD

in tlie worship of the representation instead of the thing
represented. The human mind is too lazy, too well
satisfied to stop at the symbol, to search behind for the
being or the truth symbolised.'

' I remember now thou wouldest have dissuaded me
in the same way, for the same reason, when I made the
golden statue of Mahindo.'

' Let not our controversy prevent my admiration of
the w^orkmanship. It is by far the most delicate and
beautiful production of thy studio. I can admire,
though I cannot worship.'

' Of course,' replied the prince, ' none can worship
till the ceremony of the dedication and the " giving of
the eye." ^ The king, who came yesterday to see the
progress of the w^ork, was so pleased with it that he
has sent two of the richest and brightest jewels in his
possession to be fixed as eyes in the head of the statue,
and one of them is the great flawless sapphire, the
miraculous stone of which you have doubtless heard.
We are engaged now in preparing, as you see, for
placing the royal gift. There is the jewel, lying
before you ! '

It w^as the first time Abhayo had seen it. After a
slight exclamation in admiration of its dazzling beauty,
he went on : ' That of itself is evidence of the degene-
ration of which I speak. The ceremony of the " eye-
making " would be unnecessary if the statue Avere
meant to be simply an aid to reflection. But I came
to have a talk, if possible, with my old friend and pupil
alone. Could we converse in some more private place ? '

Dharma Sen and the pupils took the hint and

^ The painting- of the e3'es of images intended for worship is
alwaj's attended with great ceremony.

THE NEW Flu END AND THE OLD 167

1-ctired, but the prince went out after them to call them
back, thus leaving Abhayo, for a minute or two, alone
in the studio. Detu set the student-carvers at work on
parts of the statue which required less attention and
less delicate manij)ulation, and with a word to Dharnia
Sen walked away with the priest through a grove of
ironwood trees, shady and cool, where the dark foliage
canopied many a work of art. They conversed walking
slowly through the grove to the baths, which were not
likely to be frequented at that hour. And there they
paced to and fro in earnest conversation on the upper
terraces until they were tired, when they went down
by the beautifully carved stairs to a shady gallery below,
where they sat down, the prince seating himself
punctiliously a step lower than the priest.

There are l^aths which are still the most perfect of
the remains found in the ruined city. They are of
large proportions and are lined with granite, in some
places exquisitely carved. Nobody can visit them,
even now, without realising that the baths were an
important feature in the old city, on which some of its
best work in stone was lavished.

On the occasion of which we are now writing, they
formed a delightful retreat. Every arrangement
which could contribute to coolness and shade had been
provided, and in the neighbourhood were growing trees
whose fragrant blossoms threw a delicious perfume into
the great stone tanks. As the day got hot, those who
had the privilege of access would come out to revel in
the luxurious coolness which the place afforded.

It was a favourite resort of Detu, and was secured
to his sole use for certain hours of the day. He and
his quondam tutor were now evidently engaged in the

I68 THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD

%•

most animated conversation. They at last got so
excited that both rose from their seats, in order that
each might speak with the greater liberty.

' What say the sages ? ' the prince asked, in a tone
of passionate entreaty. ' " Do not walk in the path of
the wicked law ! Do not go after the false teacher ! "
We all know of thy doubts, and of the strange
thoughts which have disturbed thy mind ; but stay, I
beseech thee, and think seriously ere thou takest such
a step as this. Think of all that it will mean for one
filling such a position as thine.'

' I may delay for a while, though it is a question
whether that would not be sinful, with my present con-
victions ; but my doubts are still many. I may wait a
little longer for a fuller light, but no thought of or care
for self shall hinder me when that true light comes.
What saith the holy Sage ? " Cut out the love of self
like the ripened lotus, with thy hand ! Keep the road
of peace. Nirvana has been revealed by the Buddha ! "
But why should we seek Nirvana ? Life and immor-
tality have been brought to light in the words of Jesus
of Nazareth ! '

' What if this Jesus be after all but a phantom of
the imagination ? I have heard of heretics who have
said that of the incomparable Buddha.'

' No. The evidence against it is too strong. And
those who know Him and follow Him. say that He is
to them a real, living, personal Friend. And you cannot
associate with them without being impressed with the
reality of their f\iith. They call Jesus their Sarana,
their only Refuge.'

' This must be a deceit of Mara ; the " eight-fold
path " is the only true way. And there can be no

TllE I^EIV PR I EM b AMD THE OLD 169

permanent refuge but in the Buddha, the Doctrine,
and the Order. Cast it behind thee, I pray, and go
into a retreat, which shall give time for calmer thought,
or on a pilgrimage to the Mount of the Holy Footprint,
or some otlier sacred place hallowed by the presence of
the Buddha.'

The priest shook his head, and then with a look of
affectionate earnestness besought his friend to beware
of the sophistries which came from the hall of the
' Reconciler.' He expressed himself strongly with
reference to the performances there, which were now
becoming notorious.

This was a turn in the conversation which to the
prince was not pleasant. He could not see, he said,
why, if the Thero held such views as he had just
stated, he should not make himself at home there.
It was a religion of great charity which the ' Recon-
cilers ' taught ; and he proceeded to speak in the
harshest terms of his old friend and those who had
seduced him from the right way, hinting that the
toleration hitherto extended to them could not be
expected to be continued long. It was impossible that
their friendship could continue, with such views as
Abhayo was holding.

They returned between the ironwood and fig trees
to the workshop, where the priest went on, while Dotu
went in with a look of great displeasure on his face.

Abhayo went out between the carved pillars, scarce
knowing whither he went. ' This is the mission of the
" Reconcilers," ' he said to himself, ' to break up old
friendships and spread hate instead of the charity of
which they talk so much. This is the beginning of the
end. "In this world tribulation," Thomas said. The

170 7 HE iV£JP FRIEND AND THE OLD

light is coming. I feel stronger already for the step
taken and the determination arrived at ; but I have
lost my friend. Is the ground firm, after all '? Now
faith, now unbelief, where am I ? Now Sarana, then
Asarana (no refuge) ! What can I do ? '

' That is exactly what my brother's old myna is
always saying, my lord.' It was Kiri Banda ascending
the steps leading to the platform on which that part of
the palace stood, while the priest was coming down,
unobservant of the little man who was puffing and
breathing heavily as he made the slight ascent.

' What does it say ? ' asked the Thero.

' Why, it says just what the reverend sir has just
repeated. It picked it up from some of the boys who
got the words at the pansala. And the venerable
foreign gentleman who is staying at Jambugama now
says that there are many men who talk about Sarana
just as glibly as the myna, and who know just as little
of it.'

' When do tlie foreign lady and gentleman leave
thy brother's house ? '

' That I cannot say. They like it there ; and that
is more than I do. Give me the city, with all its
multitudes of people and its wonderful sights. But
thero are two ladies there now. The clever Indian
lady is there also, and from what I can gather they
have lonof discourses about relisfion.'

' How did you get to know this ? '

' Well, my lord,' said Kiri Banda, ' at the hall of
the " Reconciler," at Sarana, we are supposed to know
everything. That Jewess is a wonderful woman. That
invisible body of hers may be here now, for aught
I know, listening to my talk. There is no saying

THE NEW FRIEND AND THE OLD 17 1

where a woman like that will be. So I must have a
care. But I may say that our people take a great
interest in the Mihintala There. They know, for
instance, that he spent all last night with the one-
armed Christian priest. They are also uncommonly
keen about getting information concerning the doings
of the little foreign party at Jambugama. I hope they
will not bring trouble to my brother's household. It
is well known that " a foreisrner to a villagfe and a
creeper to a tree are both alike." AVith my lord's
permission, I will go and deliver my message ; it is
from the " Reconciler " to the prince. We are high in
the royal favour now. But this is an unlucky day for
somebody, I know ; for nearly every dog I have seen
in the streets to-day sneezed, and the lizards are all
running from the south. That must mean more than
calamity to a poor unknown fellow like me. There
must be a public evil approaching, reverend sir, or bad
days for some great personage.'

172

CHAPTER XII.

WITH THE ' KECONCILERS.'

Asleep and naked as an Indian lay,

An honest factor stole a gem away :

He pledged it to the knight ; the knight had wit,

So kept the diamond, and the rogue was bit.

Pope, Sir Balaam.

In order to understancl the reason for the sudden visit
of Alypius to our friends at Jarabngama, it is necessary
that we should spend a short time with the founders
of the new ' Society of the Universal Brotherhood.'
The faith was becoming jDopular with high and low
alike ; with the low probably because it was popular
with the high, and with the latter because it was
declared to be a useful aid to Buddhism, and they were
flattered with the unceasing flow of compliments paid
to the faith of their ftithers by the promoters of the new
movement, who, from the West themselves, were ready
at all times to declare that nothing good had come from
the West but themselves ; that all wisdom was from
the East, and especially that part of the East in which
they happened to find themselves at the time.

There were a few who took the liberty of doubting
the sincerity of this constant depreciation of everything
which had not its origin in Buddhism ; but to the
majority of tlie people it was very pleasant, and as there

WITH THE 'RECONCILERS' 173

were very few who had travelled and seen anything of
the big world among them, they had but little difficulty
in accepting without reserve the statements made by
the Eeconcilers. The love of the marvellous was as
fully satisfied as the love of self Exaggerated rumours
of the wonderful performances of the Jewess were in
circulation, and received amongst the people as evidences
of the mysterious power and authority of the Universal
Brotherhood Society.

Alypius walked about the city on the best of terms
with priests and nobles, greeting all with the universally
brotherly smile, while Leah seldom made an appear-
ance, except at the shrine or at the queen's palace
where she had managed to secure a hearty welcome.
The other member of the triumvirate, the astrologer,
was not often seen in public, although it was rumoured
that he had fully regained his old position in the royal
favour.

Inquisitive people — and there were many such in
Anuradhapura — noticed that the astrologer's residence
had apparently become at night the scene of unusual
activity. There Avas more than the ordinary flashing of
strange lights in the Hall of Mystery, which, as we
have seen, formed the topmost story of the deserted
monastery which had been converted into the astrologer's
dwelling. There Avere sounds as of men working.
There were also frequent visitors who came and went
in a mysterious Avay, concerning whom, if questions
were put to Kiri Banda, his invariable reply was that
they were the gods and demons, the inhabitants of
other worlds, who had come to hold converse with his
master ; a reply which perfectly satisfied the inquiring
minds of his friends, as they had no desire for investi-

174 WITH THE 'RECONCILERS'

gating sucli subjects in so uncanny a neiglibour-
lioocl.

It might liave been noticed, too — although it pro-
bably was not — that often the ghostly visitors carried
away with them small burdens which they had not
brought with them on coming to the astrologer's, and
that these visits were followed by sounds as of consider-
able preparations which were being made in the hall of
the Reconciler. But nobody carried inquisitiveness so
far as to connect the activity at the astrologer's with the
corresponding activity in the headquarters of the Uni-
versal Brotherhood Society.

' Did the prince read the message sent by the
" Reconciler" ? '

This question was addressed by the Jewess, who lay
on a couch in a private apartment connected with the
shrine, to Kiri Banda, who had just returned from the
errand on which we have seen him employed.

' Without a doubt, noble lady, and with much
agitation too.'

' And didst thou see the Mihintala Thero ? '

' He was leaving the palace as I entered.'

' So much the better for our purpose — I mean that
it was a strange coincidence that he should have been
there at that very time. I am only a humble medium,
the channel through which the great spirits operate,
and know not what may pass through my agency, but
the Reconciler must have known exactly what would
happen.' This was said as if to herself, then turning
in another tone to Kiri Banda, she exclaimed : ' There
you are as usual, you will go to sleep again in another
minute. Wake up, wretch ! and let me know what the
prince said and how he looked.'

WITH THE 'RECONCILERS' 175

' I have said that he looked agitated ; that is a mikl
way of expressing it. If it had not been Prince Detu,
the meekest of men, I shoukl have said that the look
meant murder. What ho said was : "How true ! " — they
were his very words. But just then he became more
excited than ever.'

' And what then ? '

' And it was then that it was discovered that the
glorious sapphire was lost which was given by the
king to the great image of the Vanquisher, which, it
is said, is finished, all but the painting of the eye
reserved for the great ceremony ; and then, of course,
the prince could think of nothing but that.'

' Was there no one there with the prince ? '

' None but the students and the Indian nobleman,
who declared that the only person who had been alone
with the sapphire was Abhayo There. I stood, of course,
at a respectful distance from the group which gathered
around the statue in earnest conversation , but I thoug-ht
I heard one of the students say something about the
Thero reaching his hand to the head of the image, as if
to discover its comparative height. It was the same
noble student who is one of the most devoted disciples
of the Reconciler.'

' Now a pest on thy slow tongue ! Why couldest
thou not have said that before ? That is a serious loss.
It will perhaps be found again by now ; nobody can
have stolen it. Leave me now, stupid dog! '

Kiri Banda passed out, muttering to himself: ' Dog,
am I ? But dogs can bark, and sometimes they bite !
We shall see.'

It was not long before a messenger arrived com-
manding' the attendance of the Jewess at the queen's

176 WITH THE 'RECONCILERS'

palace. Leah was evidently expecting such a command,
for, instead of resting, according to the intimation she
had given to Kiri Banda, she began at once to make
elaborate toilet preparations, which were scarcely
finished when the messenger arrived.

The bearer of the royal command was dismissed
with the reply that Leah the queen's servant would be
at the palace immediately ; but for all that she showed
no particular hurry. Other arrivals came who claimed
her attention, and among them one of Prince Detu's
pupils. The conference was evidently an exciting one,
and it was some time before Leah could set forth on
her visit to the palace.

She started at last, accompanied by several atten-
dants, for an increase of means enabled her, when she
did go out, to go abroad with much greater ceremony
than formerly, and in a style more in keeping with
the mysterious authority Avhich she claimed. As she
passed through the same streets, which have been
already described, it is not necessary to say anything
here about the various sights wdiich presented them-
selves to her in the course of this short walk, except
that, as it was now the afternoon, some of the streets
were crowded with pilgrims and with those that buy
and sell.

All this, however, had apparently but little interest
for the Jewess, who walked through the busiest portions
of the city as though she saw not, and on this occasion
the dreaminess which characterised her movements
was not assumed. Her thoughts were sufficiently in-
teresting to outweigh any excitement provided in the
streets.

Little if any notice v/as taken of the entrance to

WITH THE 'RECONCILERS' 177

the royal enclosure in which was the residence of Sri
Meghawarna's chief queen. It had become familiar
ground to Leah, but she had never concerned herself
much with regard to architecture or works of art of
any kind. She had often said that no study was of
any interest to her but that of human natui-e, and in
that study she claimed to be proficient. The gateway
with its mystic carving attracted no attention, any more
than did the pillars covered with white and gold on
which the roof of the queen's pavilion rested. And as
she sat in the audience hall waiting for the queen, she
was not at all impressed with the view which presented
itself of the royal gardens, that, with their dark foliage
surrounding a shrine, overlaid with gilding, made a
striking and beautiful contrast to the white columns
and carved stonework of the buildings in the neigh-
bourhood. Her one thought just then was a vexed
one of impatience at being kept waiting, and at what
she called ' the stupid etiquette of these people.'

But she was gracious enough, not to say obsequious,
when the queen appeared with her retinue coming from
the direction of the baths. Anybody less preoccupied
than Leah would have felt deeply impressed with the
scene thus presented, as the royal party came up
through the gardens, some of them strikingly hand-
some, and all elegantly attired in loose flowing cos-
tumes as unlike as possible that which is worn by the
Sinhalese ladies of the present day in the maritime
provinces.

They were soon engaged in one absorbing topic of
conversation — the loss of the great sapphire from the
sculpture of the new Buddha.

' This was to be the prince's great life-work,' said

178 WITH THE ^RECONCILERS^

the queen, ' and liis disappointment is very great. For
although the skill shown in the sculpture cannot be
affected by the loss, yet such a splendid gem would
have wonderfully increased its value with the multitude.
We have sent for thee, O wise woman, to tell us, if
thou canst, where this precious jewel can be foiind.'

' Has a diligent search been made for it ? ' asked
Leah.

' The prince's studio has been searched in every
part, for he himself is unwilling to believe the suspicion
which has somehow become connected with a visit paid
to him early this morning. But you in your wisdom
will know all about that.'

'It is a common mistake, great queen,' said Leah,
' to suppose that we who are the Reconciler's servants
are acquainted with the master's mind. We simply do
his bidding. His messages pass direct to those for
whom they are intended. And when a revelation is
made through us, we are only the passive instruments
for its conveyance. Our minds are a blank when it
enters and also when it leaves.' All this Avas said with
difficulty, for Leah was not fluent in conversation in
the native languages, and sometimes, as at present,
she found her deficiency in this respect not unservice-
able.

' The " supremely illustrious " monarch, who is an
" ocean of wisdom and a mine of w^ealth," is exceedingly
wrathful at the loss of the jewel, and at first he seemed
inclined to imprison all who might possibly have been
implicated, from their being in the neighbourhood at
the time of the loss, but on reflection it was considered
that it would be better to make the investigation as
secretly as possible. It is the royal will also that a

WITH THE '■RECONCILERS' 1 79

substitute, tliougli of an inferior cliaracter, shall be pro-
vided in place of the lost gem, tliat the disgraceful theft
may be kept from the knowledge of the public as loug
as possible. The Mihintala Thero is suspected, partly
from his well-known antipathy to image worship, and
partly because he was the only visitor to the studio
this morning. It is difficult to proceed against a priest
directly. But, as he is now under ecclesiastical censure,
and is pledged to appear in answer to a charge of heresy,
there is no danger of his being absent when it becomes
necessary to bring him forward. It may not, however,
be the Thero, and many of us think it can hardly be
likely. Is it possible, thinkest thou, that the foreigners
of that religion which is called Christian could have
had anything to do with it ? They are dealers in
gems.'

' That would be no sufficient reason for suspecting
them, great lady,' said Leah, boldly, ' for I also have
been a dealer in precious stones, and might be as justly
suspected on that ground.'

' Then that is impossible,' returned the queen ;
' but when the royal desire is laid before the shrine of
the lleconciler, we shall doubtless obtain the informa-
tion that we need. That proposition had great weight
with his majesty in dissuading him from immediately
imprisoning the suspected ones. But thou art so
skilful \\\ the magic arts that I thought it would be
possible for me to be enlightened at once. The discovery
of the jewel which was to form the eye of the " Van-
quisher of the five deadly sins " would secure for me a
wonderful increase of the royal favour, and it would
not be worse for thee.' This was said in a low tone,
inaudible to the ladies of the court. ' The findincr of

iSo WITH THE 'RECONCILERS'

the ruby-studded bangles wliich I bad lost so long agfl
was marvellous. .This will certainly not be more diffi-
cult to such knowledge and skill as thine.'

' It might be done,' said the Jewess reflectively ;
' but in that case the formal appeal to the Reconciler
must be a last resort,'

It was promised that this should be ran-anged if pos-
sible, and that Leah, in the course of a day or two,
should do her best to aid the queen in the discovery
of the precious gem. Then the conversation became
general gossip on. such subjects as the king's health,
which of late had not been good, of the comfort which
had been derived latterly from the visits of the astro-
loger, of the household of Prince Detu (the prince's
mother had died long before, and the chief queen now
was as young as Detu himself). They talked of Detu's
princess, of her appearance and her jewels, with great
gusto. They talked also of the prince's son, who ap-
peared to take but little interest in his father's art, and,
although so young, had already begun to practise the
healing skill, which had been derived in lessons received
from the court physician. Then the gossip turned on
Anula ; on her beauty, with reference to which there
were diverse opinions ; on her learning, about which
there was no doubt ; on her firmness of character and
her strong-mindedness, which had shown itself so
strangely in refusing to be enrolled with the liecon-
cilers, which the queen thought was an evidence of un-
orthodox Buddhism, while one of the ladies said that,.
on the contrary, Anula had maintained in conversation
with her on the subject, that the new movement was
altogether inconsistent with the pure religion of the
Buddhas.

WITH THE 'RECONCILERS' l8i

Leah, of course, agreed with the queen, and urged
some very specious reasons in support of that view.

Then the lady who liad reported the conversation
she had had with the object of their gossip said that she
woukl like very much to know what Anula was about
just then. She supposed that she was leaning over
some old stone trying to decipher an inscription. On
which Leah remarked that she thought she could satisfy
her curiosity. Soon the whole of the party were be-
seeching her for a manifestation which would enable
them through her to see Anula at that moment. And
in response to this request it was not long before the
Jewess was in a state of trance, in which her asthereal
body had wandered off to Jambugama. She described
in a vacant, dreamy manner, as if the body on the couch
in the queen's jDavilion were bereaved of the spirit, the
rice-fields, the threshing-floors with the ever-circulating
buffaloes, the fruit-trees and the house in which the
Syrian father and daughter w^ere lodged.

' Why, that is Jambugama exactly ! ' exclaimed one
of the queen's attendants, the daughter of the chief of
the district in which that village was situated.

Then the wandering spirit went on to describe the
little party gathered together for conversation in the
cool of the evening under the trees where we have
already seen them, sketches of Joseph and L'ene, of
Anula and little Kumari. Two of the portraits at least
were recognised at once. The conversation of the little
party was then reported. It was on religious subjects,
of course, and represented Joseph and Irene as earnestly
seeking the conversion of Anula, while the latter was
making concessions wdaich would form a grave im-
peachment on her orthodoxy as a Buddhist,

l82 WITH THE 'RECONCILERS'

' This is serious,' said the queen ; ' wo will recall her
at once, and will know from her whether the conversa-
tion has been accurately reported.'

On recovering from her tranced state, Leah appeared
much exhausted, professing the utmost astonishment at
the descriptions given her of the pictures she had
drawn and the conversations she had reported. In
answer to numerous questions, she declared that she
had never been near Jambugama, and that she knew
nothing or next to nothing of the persons about whom
she had been talking. As to the Christians, she never
went near them if she could help it, because of the bad
antagonistic spirit Avhich they had shown to the com-
passionate, loving, healing faith of the conqueror of
Mara.

' Wonderful woman ! ' the queen whispered to her.
' I am certain that thou couldest grant me my desire.
As for these Christians, we will look to them at once.'

Refreshments were brought, betel was handed round,
and the talk went on in whispers of awe with regard to
the manifestation Avhich they had just witnessed, and in
discussions concerning Anula and the Christians.

It was a striking scene which presented itself in the
pavilion in the cool of that evening — not that the even-
ing was cool outside; still the air in the streets was
as the air of a furnace when the fires are dying, but in
the delightful shade of the royal gardens it was cool
and fragrant.

The ladies were reclining on couches elaborately
carved in wood and on mats spread on the cool floor,
chewing betel and sipping at little cups containing
cooling beverages, fanned by slaves, one of whom stood
waving a gorgeously decorated talipot leaf over each

WITH THE 'RECONCILERS' 1S3

group. Even Leah could hardly fail to be impressed
by the picturesqueness of the scene, the gracefulness of
form which characterised some of the party, and the
colour-contrasts between the wealth of black hair which
adorned each head, and the bright Indian fabrics in
which all were attired.

The pavilion itself opened on two sides into the
gardens through magnificent columns of stone, while at
either end windows of pierced granibe, which looked
like delicate tracery, surrounded by carvings of the
sacred lotus and the king of serpents, added not a little
to the beauty of this part of the palace, which was used
as a reception-room, and was regarded by the queen
with some justifiable pride.

The dark shadow of a tower, lengthening over the
palace grounds, gave the Jewess reasonable excuse for
permission to leave, after which she was soon at the
hall of the Reconciler in deep consultation with Alypius,
in which conference it was decided that the time had
come for putting an end to the Retreat at Jambugama.

1 84

CHAPTBU XIII.

OMENS AND REFLECTIONS.

liike n, beautiful flower full of colour, but without scent,

kjo are the fine but fruitless words of him who does not good deeds.

DlIAMMAPADA.

Whatever was the purport of the news brought to
Jambugama by Alypius, there was no doubt in Joseph's
mind as to the advisability of an immediate return to
the city. It was a sudden change from elation to de-
pression for all three. Neither of them wished to leave
the quiet life of the village in which they had found
such great enjoyment. At first the proposal was met
by various suggestions from the ladies. Could the
matters — whatever they were — not be arranged by cor-
respondence, or by sending instructions through Aly-
pius ? But Joseph shook his head sadly, and after a
private conversation with the Greek decided that there
was nothing for it but to prepare for a hurried depar-
ture. And when this decision was once taken, Irene
began to see many reasons why they should go back,
and even looked forward with delight to the duties
which awaited her in the city, and especially to the
pleasure of meeting Thomas.

Anula entered readily into the situation. She
would have remained willingly for some time longer,

OMENS AND REFLECTIONS 185

but life in the village would not always be like what it
had been during the last few days. She had got all
the information she wanted about the ancient establish-
ment to which generation after generation of the yellow-
robed brethren had succeeded in the village monastery.
She had become intensely attached to Irene, and was
beginning to feel that this new attachment was inter-
fering with her Buddhistic development, not because of
any wavering in her devotion to the faith of her fathers,
but because it brought out emotions which, however
exalted, interfered with the upward progress of her
Karma.

She had spoken of this to Irene one day, and had
told her that it would soon be her duty to tear herself
from her ; on which the Syrian girl had burst into tears,
denouncing in no measured terms a religion which could
thus teach it to be the holiest duty to kill the purest
and noblest affections of the heart.

To this outburst Anula had replied with tears, and
then immediately reproached herself for being capable
of such emotion. How far she was from that higher
life of which she had constantly dreamed ! She had
given way to her humanity, which was her curse. Was
it true that she, who, although not of the order, had
lived for years as if she had been ; who had so repeatedly
kept the night-long vigil and so regularly fasted ; who
had even lived in the higher meditations, could so far
be the victim of ' desire ' as to give way like that on
account of that pale-faced girl from the West who was
not even a follower of Gautama ?

There was nothing for it, she had said, but to go
back as soon as possible to the sisterhood, -where such
exhibitions of emotion were impossible, and where, by

i86 OMENS AND REFLECTIONS

heavy penance, slio miglit in some measure redeem the
past.

Then there rose up before her mind the command-
ino; form of the Mihintala Thero. That imaafe was not
an infrequent visitor, but as often as it came it was in-
stantly dismissed, and some slight penance resorted to,
because the thought, though only momentar^^, could have
been possible.

Much of her time had been occupied in reverie,
which her friends thought natural to one of her cha-
racter. While they imagined her to be meditating on
the ills of existence, and the evil of desire, according to
the regulation for the order, she was often analysing her
own motives and investigating the thoughts and feelings
of her own heart.

Life had become to her a constant battle with the
purest afiections, varied with doubts as to the righteous-
ness of the conflict, followed by remorseful feeling on
account of the doubts themselves. Even her affection
for Irene did not seem to be all bad, in the analysis to
which she subjected it, for she said to herself, ' It shows
how I have conquered the affection which was once
growing in me for Abhayo, when I can love this girl ; '
and then she would reproach herself for her readiness
in finding excuses. ' It is all wrong,' she said to her-
self ' There is nothing for it but to take the full vows
and live with the holy sisters.'

Such had been her thoughts. The pleasant inter-
lude in her life which she had enjoyed recently at
Jambugama had thrown back her Ivarma for years,
and she must make what atonement was possible. The
opportunity for returning to the city had come, and
she would at once make the preparations necessary for

OMENS AND REFLECTIONS \%^

the complete renunciation required of the consecrated
sisterhood.

Such was the determination she liad arrived at
when Alypius made a proposal to the little party,
which he had not much difficulty in prevailing on
them to accept. It was that Joseph should go back
with him to the city, leaving Irene and Anula — if she
would stay — at Jambugama for a week or two, in
which time he thought the important business on
which they were about to proceed would be concluded.
The arrangement appeared to him all the more reason-
able because it was probable that they might find it
necessary to take a journey to the seaport. For the
time Anula's new resolutions vanished. She would
stay with Irene for a little longer. ' The conquest
would be all the greater,' she said to herself, if she
could accomplish it under such circumstances. It
would also afford her such an opportunity for in-
fluencing her Syrian friend on behalf of the faith of the
Buddhas as might never occur again. It was clearly
her duty to stay, she said.

Irene was not at all willing to remain behind at
first, but eventually consented, on her father's pro-
mising to return as soon as possible, and bring Thomas
with him.

It was on the morning of the day before that fixed
for the return to the city that this decision was
arrived at. In the evening Anula went to the temple
with a flower-offering. It was a duty which she had
somewhat neglected of late. Joseph had submitted to
be led away by the children into the fields to see the
grain brought in, and Irene was left alone in the pretty
leaf-thatched room where she and her father had spent

lS8 OMENS AND KEFLEC770NS

most of tlicir time togethor. She was sitting on a low
couch bending over a leaf cut and prepared, on which
she was busily engaged with a stylus in writing a letter
to Thomas. ' He would like it better,' she said, ' than
any verbal message.' She would not be long, she had
told her father, and Avould follow him into the fields as
soon as she had finished her letter.

Absorbed in her occupation, she had not noticed the
approach of any one until a shadow was thrown across
her writing materials, and, looking up, she saw Alypius
standing in the arched doorway regarding her with
undisguised admiration. ' I must have one word with
you before I go,' he said, with a passionate earnestness
so unusual to him that she hesitated to give expression
to the displeasure which his appearance there at that
time had caused her.

' May I not hope that the fair daughter of my
joartner has learnt in the midst of these sylvan scenes
to think less unfavourably of one avIio is ready to give
his life for her ? The days have passed slowly and
drearily in the city since you left.'

' And yet,' returned Irene, ' report says that you
have been busily occupied, and you have not seemed
anxious that I should return with my father.'

It was spoken like a girl would speak in such a
situation ; and Alypius, reading in it wrongly an iinusual
interest in his movements, clutched at it as to a straw
of hope.

' You have heard,' he said, ' about the Reconciler,
and about the new society formed in the city ; but
rumour has a lying tongue, remember. As to the
object which we have set before us, can anything be
more noble ? I have thought that nothinpf would be

OMEMS AND RKFLECTtO^'S 189

Jiiore agreeable to tlio miud and heart of her whom I
adore, and whose opinion I value above that of any-
other human being. Can anything be more commend-
able than a life spent in devotion to such objects as
ours — the brotherhood of mankind, without respect of
persons, and the quelling of religious strife? What can
be more consistent wath the true spirit of Christianity ?
It may be immodest to say so, but to my mind the
lady Irene should only see in that additional reason
for favour.'

Irene had by this time discovered that the impres-
sion produced by her words on the mind of the young
Greek was favourable to his suit. Nothing could be
further from her desires, and she broke in at once on
his pleadings with an expression of haughty disdain,
standing as she spoke.

' It is not for an ignorant girl such as I am to
discuss your schemes for the reconciliation of religions ;
neither can I talk with you about the associations
which you have formed, and the un-Christian attitude
which you have taken up. I will not say what I think
of it all, for that has little if any bearing on what I
have to say now. It would be foolish and useless for
us to go on talking in this strain. It is impossible,
Alypius. I cannot love you, and do not even respect
you, and can never be yours.'

' These are but hasty words,' replied he. ' Lying
tongues have been at work. I have been misrepre-
sented. You spoke of associations. It was Leah the
Jewess you referred to. Oh, if you did but know her,
no disparaging allusion would ever again pass your lips ! '

' I have said that it would make no difference what-
ever, Alypius. Let us join my father.'

150 OMENS AND REFLECTIONS

' Have you tliouglit,' lie liissed rather than said,
' what the influeuce would be on him — your father ? '

' On him ? Why such mystery about him ? Ah !
little do you know, after all, of the oneness of the life
betw^een us. How should you understand such as he
is ? Other fathers, I know, give their daughters as
they will. He loves me too well. And my love for
him is too great to let me listen to such talk as yours.'

' Or even the talk of enthusiastic young Buddhist
priests ? ' sneered Alypius ; to which she replied with
nothing but a look of fiery scorn, and would have
rushed past him, had not Anula entered at that moment
on her return from the temple, thus compelling him to
retire, but not before he had managed to give a dark
hint to the effect that her father's safety and honour
lay in some mysterious way in his power.

He was no sooner gone than she sank down on the
couch, as if tired and faint. Anula was busy with the
devotional exercises wdiich she had resolved to rigor-
ously impose on herself, in order to recover lost ground.
But a fflance at her friend scattered the exercises from
her mind at once. It was the work of an instant to
bring the water-gourd and give Irene a drink, which
evidently refreshed her.

' What can be the matter ? You look ill, or as if
you had been tired with a long journey. Your eyes
were fixed, as if on some object at a great distance. It
was like Abliayo looks when — I mean that you appeared
to be wandering away from yourself — but you are pale
and faint. What is it, child? Did the Greek say
anything to cause it ? His looks were not pleasant,
but, of course, I could not understand his words. Come,
let us go out into the cool air,'

OMENS AND REFLECTIONS lof

It was the best restorative tliat could be applied.
They went out into the fields, where they found Joseph
and Alypius with the children, the Greek talking with
his partner as if nothing of importance had transpired
in the house. And in the course of the evening he
managed to whisper to Irene that she must forgive him
for his foolish words with reference to her father.
There was no foundation for them. They were the
words of stupid passion, when he knew not what he
was saying.

This was somewhat reassuring, but Irene could not
help thinking of the many times when the visits of the
young gem merchant had caused her father much un-
easiuess and trouble, and it was with difficulty that she
could bring herself to let him return to the city with-
out her.

The evening passed in talk, chiefly about the
Reconciler and his following, in which Alypius argued
persuasively and ably on behalf of the movement. The
conversation was confined in great measure to the two
men, the ladies saying but little. As it was carried on
in the vernacular, Anula had little difficulty in under-
standing it.

' It is incomprehensible to me,' said the younger
man, ' that there should be any opposition on the part
of intelligent Christians to a work like this, which has
for its aim the promotion of brotherliness and all good
feeling between the various races of men. Concessions
are needed, of course ; they are concessions, however,
not to the creed of a rude and savage people, but to a
faith more ancient than our own, with a system of
ethics which in many of its features closely resembles
that of the Christian.'

192 OMENS AND REFLECTIONS

' There you mistake, my friend,' said Joseph, ' I
have talked much of the system with our friend the
Mihintala Thero. And I think I can judge now of the
resemblance on which the Reconcilers sometimes so
fondly dwell.'

' But,' interrupted Alypius, ' is it fair to gather your
interpretations of Buddhism from one who is so noto-
riously unorthodox ? That the Thero is learned and
enthusiastic we know full well, but he is scarcely an
unbiassed authority with regard to Buddhism. And it
is possible that he may not be free from that flexibility
of speech which characterises his countiymen when
there is a desirable object to be gained, and often even
without the inspiration of such an object.'

Anula's eyes blazed on him fiercely. ' What shall
we say then,' she asked, ' of that flexibility of the Chris-
tian Greek, who could denounce Christianity so readily
in the hall of the Eeconciler ? '

'Ah!' replied the Greek, in his blandest manner,
' that was spoken in a moment of irritation. Our
friends here ' (waving his hand towards Joseph and his
daughter, but evidently intending it especially for Irene)
' are acquainted with my unfortunate failing in that re-
spect. My ungovernable temper is a source of continual
repentance to me. I remember now that the lady
Anula was present at the conference, and formed one of
the only two who did not sign the roll. It ought to be
gratifying in the highest degree to see one who is so
distinguished a student of Buddhism and follower
of Gautama inclined so favourably to the faith of the
Nazarene.'

Anula looked her resentment at this construction put
upon her words, but said nothing. ' Thou hast entirely

OMENS AND REFLECTIONS 193

niisuuderstood Abliayo Thero,' said Joseph, ' He would
never knowingly be guilty of false representa,tion. And
his interest lay all in the other direction. But we were
talking of comparisons between Buddhism and CJjris-
tianity. I was saying that it is a mistake to speak of
our faith as if it were modern, compared with the creed
of Gautama. You forget that it is as old as the Jewish
race, that it goes back to the time when the first pro-
mise of the Messiah was proclaimed to men. We are
Jews by religion, but Jews who have accepted Jesus as
the true Messiah. But what is the value of the age-
argument ? The demon -worshippers who, according to
the songs that the Damilos sing, inhabited this land
before the Sinhalese settled in it, may claim for their
faith a much greater antiquity than Buddhism.'

' Now, my dear father,' said Irene, ' must not be
tempted into speech-making. He must think of the
morrow's journey, and take the needful preparatory
rest.'

Joseph smiled, and continued : ' You talk also of
resemblance between that Life which is the light of
men, as the Holy Gospel says, and the life of Sakya
Muni, but the comparisons are not so many nor so
great as the contrasts. Think of the contrast between
the childhood of the Christ and that of Gautama Bodisa-
twa ; the carpenter's shop at Nazareth, and the palace
of King Suddhodana. Other contrasts quite as striking
might be easily mentioned. I have sometimes thought
there were resemblances between the life of the Messiah
as shadowed forth in the misconstructions put by
Judaists on the glorious prophecies concerning Him,
and I have thought that it is not impossible that the
Jewish stories of the " coming One " had got mixed

194 OMENS AND REFLECTIONS

occasionally with the Buddhist legends, just as in cen-
turies to come, it may be, as a result of the compromis-
ing spirit abroad now, men may find it difficult to
distinguish between some features of Christianity and
some aspects of Buddhism. Rumour says that the
mixing process is going on even now in the hall of the
Reconciler. Have a care, Alypius ! Beware of con-
cessions. I have the kindest feeling for the poor idolater,
and for the man who trusts his hope to his asceticism,
but remember that such compromises mean a derogation
from the divine honours of our Redeemer. All that is
good in Buddhism may already be found in Christianity,
with much more without which we are helpless. The
task is hopeless. They cannot be reconciled.'

The Greek moved uneasily under the words of the
good old man. He thought of the dark and devious
ways by which he was pursuing his ends, and for the
time, in that society, he felt a loathing for himself and
the hypocrisy of his life.

He made no reply, but Irene took up the conver-
sation briefly : ' We were talking the other day about
the Christ's love for children. Why, you remember
that He took a little child and set him in the midst of
His disciples, and said, " Of such is the kingdom of
heaven." But the Buddha points to the old man
crouchiug under the burden of years, worn out by much
fasting and severe penance, with all desires, all affec-
tions conquered, having the vast knowledge which is
said to belong to such an old age, as the truest repre-
sentation of his kingdom. As I said the other day, I
will follow the Saviour Who is the Friend of little
children.'

' Irene is right,' said Joseph, ' There should be no

OMENS AND REFLECTIONS 195

talk of resemblance between Christianity and Buddhism;
at any rate, no building on them, while Jesus stands
before us in the beautiful Gospel picture with the child in
His arms, saying, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven ; "
and Gautama points to the old age of a life of terrible
struggle after repeated transmigrations, as the nearest
approach to the great object of all Buddhist aspirations,
the birthless, lifeless hereafter. I once saw a monk in
the Malia temple in Anuradhapura worn to a skeleton
by his fasting and penance. I was told that he was
one of the Arhats, that he had nearly reached the per-
fection of knowledge by his chastisement of the flesh,
by the repression of desire and obedience to the pre-
cepts. He had arrived at a stage in which he could
feel no pity and no affection for any living thing, and
his chief occupation was gazing intently into the cells
cut out of a huge block of granite. On this employ-
ment his whole being seemed concentrated. And of
such is the dominion of the Buddhas. But let us not
spend our last night here in controversy. Is there no
message for our friend Thomas, child ? '

' Would that I could go instead of sending a mes-
sage,' replied Irene. ' I have a feeling as if we ought
not to be separated, as if something unfortunate would
happen while we are away from each other. What
will you do,' she added playfully, ' without your little
girl to make you the food that you love, and to sing to
you, even though it be only for a week or two ? '

' We shall see, we shall see, little one ! Perhaps
thou art not so necessary as all that.' And Joseph
rested his hand lovingly on her head.

They retired early, and awoke next morning with
the dawn. Alypius started first. Joseph was saying

196 OMENS AND REFLECTIONS

his farewell to Ireue before stepping into the litter,
when Sikki Banda came forward, imploring him not to
venture on his journey on so unlucky a day ; the lizards
had chirped as he had never heard them before, and a
woman had just crossed the path with a bundle of
sticks. He knew her, and he would give her a good
scolding for bringing such bad luck on the gentleman's
journey. But that was not all — the villagers had heard
the horrible cries of the devil-bird ringing through the
night.

' I thank thee, friend,' said the old man, ' but I
have a charm which is superior to all those evil omens.
Remember, child,' turning to Irene cheerfully, ' only a
fortnight at the longest.'

197

CHAPTER XIV.

WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S.

A country can be hedged about :

But not the tongue. — Sinhalese Proverb.

Of all the goldsmiths' shops in Anuradhapura — and they
were numerous — that of Jotthiyo was perhaps the most
popular. It was situated in a small street leading from
the Great East and West Street to the Abhaya-Wewa,
the oldest tank in the city. There were other goldsmiths
in the same street, and though there was much rivalry
amongst themselves, and desperate struggling to outvie
each other in trade with a cunning for which the
Eastern goldsmith is proverbial, yet Jotthiyo was
acknowledged to have reached an eminence which
placed him above the rest of his fraternity in an
assured position which it was useless for them to
attack.

He had a reputation for being exceedingly shrewd
in his business. He would look at a stone with a
glance which indicated the profoundest insight, and a
movement of the head which appeared to speak volumes.
His opinions, given in the briefest form, were seldom
wrong. There were a few detractors belonging to his
craft, who declared their belief that it was all because
he was born under such a lucky star; but with the

198 With the gossips at the goldsmith's

majority it was understood that the wisdom of the pro-
fession was concentrated in the brain which lay behind
the eye of Jotthiyo. I say Hlg eije^ for he had but one,
he had lost the other through the carelessness of a
Wedarala (native doctor), who had operated on it in
order to extract a tiny fragment which had been struck
off from the wheel, and had stuck to the eye with great
tenacity. But it was generally conceded that one eye
was sufficient for a man like Jotthiyo, and that for
keenness there was not a pair of eyes in all the city
that could match his one.

He was a man of few words, and he encouraged the
gift of silence in his workmen, and yet his shop was
the gathering-place of the greatest gossips in the city.
Perhaps it was because garrulous people love silent but
wide-awake listeners ; and it was partly due also to
the fact that the one-eyed goldsmith's judgment on all
doubtful points, and on the tendency of things generally,
was regarded as authoritative and almost infallible.

The shop opened on to the street, as is the fashion
of such shops in the East to-day. Anything more
unlike a jeweller's shop in the West End of London
could not well be conceived. There was no display of
gold and precious stones, with the exception of what
was in the hands of Jotthiyo and his workmen. But
there was a strong box within, barred and clamped
with iron, which was jealously guarded, day and night.
In the inner room in which the bos was kept the
master slept : and it was so closely watched by day that
theft was regarded as an impossibility.

The box was often opened, but always with due
safeguards. It was never opened to gratify idle curi-
osity. When the clank and rattle of the iron was

mm THK GOSSir'S AT THE GOLDSMITH^ S 199

heard, the gossips in the shop knew that it meant
business that there was a wedding festival to he held
somewhere in the city, and the friends of the bride
elect were borrowing a string of pearls and golden,
bangles, or the guardian of a temple was negotiating
for the purchase of a little golden dagoba or a small
image of Buddha.

There was a noise as of the clanking of iron and
heavy creaking of hinges coming from the small inner
room on the afternoon of the day to which this chapter
refers. A visitor had been ushered into the inner room
by Jotthiyo — a visitor who was evidently not a stranger.

' It is that man who does everything for the people
at the hall of the Reconciler, Kiri Banda,' said one of
the small party sitting in the shop on some of the little
log-stools provided for the workmen. It was Jantu,
the chief gossip, and he was speaking to one who had
dropped in to-day for the first time.

' Does he come here often ? ' the stranger interro -
gated.

' Often enough. He is here, there, and everywhere,
and yet Le is never in a hurry, and seems to s^oend the
most of his time in sleep.'

' I should like to have a chat with him about those
Reconcilers. We'll draw him out a little presently.'

' That shows that you know precious little of Kiri
Banda. He talks in proverbs and dark sayings, which
may mean a great deal, or may mean very little. My
belief is that he sees as much with his eyes shut as old
Jotthiyo does with his " piercer," and that is saying a
great deal ; but it is very little that one can get out of
him.'

' Is he the servant of the Jewess ? '

foo With the gossips at the coLdsmith'S

' He seems to be now. He was the head-servant
of the royal astrologer, but it is said that he was dis-
charged from that office. Anyhow, he is at present in
the service of the founders of the new religion,'

' They are very popular in the city now — are they
not?'

' That you could ask such a question shows that you
are a stranger in Anuradhapura, Where have you come
from ? '

' I come from Mahatotai. I have been much in
foreign lands, but am residing now in the seaport town.
I love the sea,' replied the stranger.

' It is evident then that you are not pure Sinhalese,'
said the other. To this the stranger made no reply,
but went on to further inquiries about the Reconcilers.
' Have they raaiiy of the poor amongst their followers ?
he asked.

' They make no effort to secure them. But they
are cunning enough to know that the householder is
followed by his family and his slaves.'

' The priests are with them, are they not ? '

* Of course they are. They, on their side, maintain
that the Reconcilers are very good Buddhists, while the
Jewess and her party can easily prove that all their
wonderful doings are sanctioned expressly by the lotus-
mouthed Lord of the doctrine. I said that they did
nothing for the poor. That is not quite correct. There
was a great almsgiving at the Salakaworain ' of the Maha
temple the other day, distributed chiefly at the expense

' ' There is nothing new under the sun.' The Sulakaggam was
the ' soup-kitchen' of Anuradhapura, where rice was distributed to the
poor on presenting tlie tickets — little pieces of ola-leaf — with whish
they had been previously provided.

mril THE gossips at TFIE goldsmith's 2oi

of the Greek gentleman, wlio is one of the founders
of the new religion, and who stood with the priests,
smiling most beautifully and compassionately on the
poor slaves as they came presenting their tickets.
There is great poverty in the city, and many a man
has been obliged from want of food to send away his
slaves. Oh yes, the Eeconciler is popular with the
lower as well as the higher classes, and with the very
lowest.'

' Not a bad way to public favour,' remarked the
stranger,

' Ah, well ! "snipe can travel along the same road
as elephants," as our friend in there would say ; ' and he
nodded towards the room where Kiri Banda was still
engaged in his business with the goldsmith. ' And
there may be disciples among the poor as well as among
the rich.'

'You spoke of the Greek gem-merchant just now.
If I mistake not, I saw him on my way hither. He was
in company with an elderly man of venerable aspect,
apparently of the same race. Is he also one of the
initiated ? He looks as if he might well be their chief
prophet, or the Reconciler himself.'

' No, indeed ! Joseph the Syrian is not at all
attached to the new faith. Some say that he and his
Christian friends are exceedingly opposed to it. Though
why they should be it is difficult to see, for that is the
beauty of this new religion ; it asks nobody to forsake
the faith in which he has been brought up. It tells
everybody that he is right ; only he must add on a little
bit of the Reconciler's teaching to make it perfect.
They have a very persuasive way with them, those
people.'

202 WITH THE GOSSITS AT 7HE GOLDSMITH^ S

' Are all the Christians opposed to them ? '

' Why, you seem to be all questions ; I fancy that
the first note you squalled out as a child must have
been a note of interrogation.'

' Don't you mind him,' said another of the little
party. ' There is nothing he likes so much as unrolling
his gossip to those who will listen.'

' Well, the Christians are not numerous ; they are
all, or nearly all, of the foreign community, and the
majority of them are not very particular one way or the
other. They often come here to Jotthiyo on gem busi-
ness, and when we talk about religion they put on a
bland, superior sort of a smile, as if they were above all
need of it, and it was a sort of thing which did very
well for inferior persons like ourselves.'

' Have you heard that the Mihintala Thero has
thrown off his robes and become a Christian ? ' asked
one of the joarty.

' No, I have not heard that, and I happen to know
that it is not true — not yet,' replied the chief gossip.
' For I saw him enter the Maha temple to-day with his
robes on. You should be more accurate, my friend,
when you come here with your news.'

This rebuke produced a faint smile (hearty laughs
are rare in Sinhalese gossip), which meant that such a
reproof from such a quarter was singularly out of place.
Heedless of this, the speaker went on : ' Not but that
it is probable enough that he may throw off his robes
some fine day, or have them taken from him — which is
more likely. I have a brother who is an attendant at
the Maha temple, and he tells me that the Thero is to
be tried for heresy as soon as the Wass season is over.
It will serve him right if he is dismissed. And a little

WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S 203

bird lias wliispered to me that there will possibly be
graver charges than that of irreligion or unorthodoxy
against him. Why should he be dissatisfied with a
religion that was good enough for his ancestors for
hundreds of years past ? It is good enough for me —
why not for him ? All this comes of thinking about
things. What is the use of thinking ? It is about
the worst occupation a man can take to. It is sure to
bring him into trouble.'

' Your life -vVill be one of great peace, my friend,'
said a gruff voice from behind, as Kiri Banda and
Jotthiyo returned to the shop.

' We praise independence, but my experience is that
independent thinking is great foolishness. Many a man
has lost his head by it.'

' Yours is safe enough, friend ! ' retorted Kiri
Banda.

' Let the priests settle our religion for us, I say.
Let them do our thinking ; they are paid for it.'

' And precious little some of them do for their pay,'
growled the one dissentient ; for it must be admitted
that independent sentiments were not much in favour
in Anuradhapura.

'Anyhow, we cannot be wrong in following our
betters. Our heads arc safe while we do that.'

' You are a wise man, my good Jantu. Avoid
thinking, and keep your head on your shoulders. Bow
low at the cracking of the whips, and if one is laid
across the back, ask for another. "You can bear the
bite of the crocodile, though not the prick of the koliila
thorn." '

' There you are, at your proverbs again ! If report
speaks truly, you must be getting familiar with the

204 WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S

crocodile bites in your present situation. I Late the
conceit of people who are always answering you in pro-
verbs. They make it pass for argument, and think a
proverb should decide every discussion.'

' Proverbs contain the wisdom of the ancients, my
friend ; and I would advise you to take to them. They
will save you from thinking for yourself.'

' We were talking before you interrupted us,' said
Jantu, ' of the Mihintala Thero and the Christians. And
here is a stranger to Anuradhapura, who is deeply in-
terested in your employers and their doings. Perhaps
you will enlighten him a little.'

The only reply was a sleepy look, which indicated
that Kiri Banda had finished his contribution to the
conversation.

Not ill-pleased at the opportunity afforded him by
Kiri Banda's reticence, Jantu proceeded to relate to the
stranger a narrative of some of the wonderful doings at
the shrine of the Reconciler. There were stories of
jewellery which had long been lost found in the most
unlikely places ; and as the stories were being related,
Jotthiyo, unobserved, with a curious twinkle in his one
eye, bent low over his polishing wheel, which he worked
in the simplest way with the string of a bow, moving it
rapidly to and fro.

Then came the most precious bit of gossip of the
day, which Jantu whispered into a circle of heads drawn
together by a significant intimation that something un-
usual was coming. ' Scarcely anybody knows it, and
you must not mention it for anything, but the king and
chief queen and all the court are greatly agitated.
They have suffered a terrible loss. The royal sapphire,
the glory of the regalia, has been stolen. It was to be

WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S 205

the right eye of the new statue of the Vanquisher, which
the Prince Detu has just completed, and which will be
the finest piece of sculpture in all the city. The king
had sent it to be tried before finally fixing it in the
socket at the Nethra Pinkama.^ And while it was in
the prince's studio for that purpose it disappeared under
very suspicious circumstances, and it is said that the
Mihintala Thero has something to do with it. But that
cannot be possible. What do you say, friends ? '

The only reply was a groan, which went round the
circle.

' I have nothing to say against the Thero, except
that I cannot see why he should go setting himself
above the religion of the country. Depend upon it,
he has been contaminated by those Christians. I
shouldn't wonder if they have something to do with the
loss of our resplendent gem ; for you see it is our loss.
The king had dedicated it to the Deliverer on our be-
half. And now it is gone. Could there be anything
more unlucky ? '

The only reply was another circulating groan.

' But you must be sure to say nothing about it ! I
understand that steps are being taken which, with the
aid of the Reconcilers, are sure to result in its recovery.
There is nothing that that Jewess cannot do. The
Beconciler knows everything, and he will tell the king
through Leah the Jewess where the glorious gem is
concealed.'

' I thought,' said the stranger, ' that such super-
natural power as the Jewess claims could only be
obtained by a pure life and much fasting, in rej^eated
births. The holy Doctrine teaches us that only the
' The cererpony of painting the eyes,

2o6 WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S

Arliats possessed sucli power. And here is a wonderful
tiling : all this great Buddhist city seems to be united
in giving praise to a woman, and that woman one of
whose antecedents you know nothing except what she
herself chooses to tell you. I cannot think that this is
good Buddhism. What does the prince of sages say ?
" That which is called woman is sin." '

' Ah, that is where you are wrong, in thinking for
yourself. I suppose that comes of your travel in foreign
lands — I think you said you had spent much time in
such countries. If the Mihintala Thero had stayed at
home all his life, he would not, perhaps, be in trouble
to-day.'

' What will be done if they do not find the jewel
before the day of the Nethra Pinkama ? ' asked one of
the party.

' Why, we shall be put off with something inferior,
perhaps something made up by our friend Jotthiyo
here.' This was said in an attempt to draw the gold-
smith out, who sat on a mat, still bending the upper
unclothed part of his body over the wheel, which
buzzed and hissed as he applied to it a magnificent
' cat's-eye ' which he was in the act of polishing, and
which, as he held it up every now and then to the light,
displayed the dazzling ray which the goldsmith seemed
to have caught and bound to the stone across its
polished surface. He was too deeply absorbed in the
beauty of that white line which vibrated on the stone
to pay any attention to the remark. But a deep groan
once more went round the circle.

' I have heard too — and my brother, the attendant,
has good means of know^ing — that the ceremony at the
dedication of the new image is to be the grandest that

WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S 207

has ever been known. The king and all the priests
in Anuradhapura are to be present, with elephants
innumerable. But that will not compensate for the
loss of the gem. You must be quiet, and saj nothing,
for if the people get to know of it they will, perhaps,
have their revenge on the Thero and the Christians.
We should be careful to say nothing which will inflame
their anger.'

' But the Christians,' said the stranger — ' I cannot
see what they have to do with it,'

'That is because you are a stranger, you see. The
old Syrian merchant whom 3'ou saw with Alypius the
Greek is very friendly with the Thero, and he has a
beautiful daughter, who, they say, has tried hard to
draw him away from the faith of the glorious prince
of the sages. Ah ! there is always a woman in it ! '
And Jantu sighed, and the company groaned again,
but this time with a satirical intonation : for Menika,
Jantu 's wife, meek and submissive as she looked when
walking behind her lord to the temple, or setting the
food before him in company, while he on such occasions
assumed an air of great contempt for his women-
kind, nevertheless in private was a most impatient
listener, and her sharp tongue, it was well known,
had much to do with his frequent visits to Jotthiyo's
shop.

' Yes,' said the stranger, ' there is always a woman
in it, and a woman may yet be the ruin of Anurad-
hapura. I mistrust that Jewess ! ' This he said as if
talking to himself, and about some one of whom he
knew something. Then turning to Jantu : — ' But
what about this Christian lady, the daughter of the
Svrian, where is she ? '

2o8 WITH THE GOSSIPS AT THE GOLDSMITH'S

' She has been staying in a village at some distance
from the city. And I have heard that the lady who
accompanied the Princess of Kalinga when she brought
the Sacred Tooth, a learned Pali scholar, is there too.
I have no doubt that they will try to wean her from
the faith.'

'You seem to have some special grudge against the
Christians,' said the stranger.

To this Jantu made no reply, but went on to say,
' It is rumoured that Alypius is anxious to have the
Syrian's daughter to wife.'

' But surely he is not going the right way about it.
If he forsakes the Christian faith, it must only be more
difficult to obtain her hand. Besides, marriage would
disqualify him from possessing the high supernatural
jDOwers claimed by the Reconcilers,'

' There you are mistaken again ; but it is excusable
in a stranger. He says that he forsakes no faith, but
is anxious to reconcile all, and he does not himself lay
claim to the supernatural power you speak of. That
all lies with the Jewess and the astrologer, Kapuranda ;
but he has not been very successful, and we have heard
very little of him of late.'

' I see — it is the woman again ! '

' What woman ? Menika has not— I mean — were
you talking of the Jewess ? '

' Never mind. When did you say the Thero is to
be tried for heresy ? '

' After the Mahinda festival is over, which concludes
our Wass season.'

' That will be soon, will it not ? I have heard that
it is a splendid ceremony. I think I will wait for it,'

' Now I can tell you all about it, jf you will wait

Wim THE GOSSIPS AT THE ^GOLDSMITH'S 2og

for a few minutes ' — seeing that the stranger had risen
to go.

Kiri Banda, who had also risen, remarked : ' The
more you scratch, the more you must scratch. The
more you talk, the more you must talk.'

In a short time the shop was cleared of all save
the goldsmith and his workmen, who sat on their log-
stools or their mats at their work, while Jantu's tongue
wagged as if it would never have done.

210

CHAPTER XV.

Leah's confession of faith.

The clergy have in their treasury an infinity of precious things
and Mo-Ni beyond price. Tlie king having entered into this treasury,
beheld a jewel Mo-Ni, and immediately felt a desire to carry it
away.— PlLGHIMAGE OF Fa Hian.

' Let us have a look at tlie situation, my friend.
Where do we stand ? '

The speaker was Leah the Jewess ; and the friend
was Alypius, who, on his return to Anuradhapura, had
made a point of proceeding as soon as possible to
Sarana, as the head-quarters of the Reconcilers was
called, to consult with the jji'esiding- genius of that
establishment.

' That is a question I should like you to answer.
I am not blind, and 1 am not, so I am vain enough to
think, quite a lunatic ; but I must confess to some
difficulty in seeing where our plans are carrying us.
I hope you see it clearer than I do.'

For answer Leah smiled on her friend half pity-
ingly.

' Whatever may be the issue,' Alypius went on, ' my
present position is not altogether a pleasant one. I
would it were possible for somebody else to do some of
the work assigned to me in the scheme.'

LEA IPS CONFESSION OF FAITH 211

' That is the result of your visit to Jambugama.
I might have known that your courage would be
weakened by such intercourse. But let us look at our
position and prospects. I think we have every reason
to congratulate ourselves. The Reconciler is winning
his way rapidly into popular favour. We began at the
right end. Tlie conversion of an Adigar is worth a
hundred of the rabble — nay, more — for the hundred
are sure to follow, as we have already experienced.'

' We should remember, however, that the tail is as
likely to follow when the head runs the other way.'

•^ You are depressed, Alyjoius, when you should be re-
joicing. You look at everything now in the gloomiest
light possible ; and all because you have had a nay
from a mere chit of a girl. Much do you know of the
female character ! But she will soon be at your feet.'

' She will never be there alive, or voluntarily,'
sighed Alypius.

' Why, the man must be really in love ! Listen to
the deep sighs rising from that manly bi'east ! ' And
Leah laughed a great laugh of derision. But seeing
that she was going too far for the patience of her col-
league, she continued — ' After all, you are not singular,
my friend ! The history of mankind is full of such
instances as yours. Let the thought that you are one
of a glorious company of fools console you in your
depression of spirits. Don't frown ; I understand you.
You are mad with yourself for a Aveakuess to which
you have been driven by an in-esistible fate. But
weakness is the last thing a woman will forgive. I
know the creature better than you do. Your ex-
perience has been limited, you know. And, besides,
it takes a woman to understand a woman. I know

23:! LEA Its COXfESSIOM OF FAlTII

lier. Wliat she likes above all things is a great
audacity, which will stop short of nothing in order to
win the desired object — it being always understood
that the desired object is herself. And that is why I
so strongly advise this step, at which you display so
much hesitation.'

' I have been wondering,' said Alypins, ' whether
you possess such a thing as a heart. Aifection, and
such affection as mine, you certainly can never have
had.'

An unusually serious expression came into the face
of the Jewess. There was a brief silence, and then a
sigh. ' Yes,' said Leah, ' I can sigh as well as you ;
even now, at my age, as I think of some experiences
in my past life. Of that past life, little, if anything,
is known in Anuradhapura. But there was a heart
within me once, and I lost it in the usual way. He
became a Christian ; he had been a heathen before, and
his Christianity made him meek. These Christians
glory in their humility, and I got to hate him for it.
They say that that was the great characteristic of the
Nazarene, and His disciples are like Him, or profess to
be like Him, in patience and meekness. I suppose it
is that which makes them boast so freely of that
ignominious death to which their Leader was put, the
cross of shame. Imagine it ! How could meekness
ever be a virtue in a man desiring to obtain favour in
the eyes of a woman ? And he, the man of whom I
speak, became a Christian, and passed through a great
change, as he said, and as he evidently did. Wilful
and impatient of all control, he became meek and
humble, and I grew to despise him for it, and to detest
the faith which had made him so weak. There — that

LEAirS CONFESSION OF FAITH 213

will do. Let us have done with these stupid reflec-
tions. I may say, however, that the more he gave
way to weakness and humility, the more daring and
proud did I become. I hesitated at nothing to gain
my end, and — well, at the last, this meekest of men
suddenly displayed a courage and power of endurance
which I had not thought possible to such as he. And
at that time I could almost have repented and given
him all my best affection ; but it was too late. I had
sold myself to another.'

' I am beginning to understand you now,' said
Alypius. ' And that is, no doubt, partly why the
Christians are so obnoxious to you.'

' Let us have done with that ! What is the use of
thinking of the past ? I have buried my past. I am
now like a soul after migration into a new birth. Why,
I have passed through a score of births in my time !
And I am still far on the right side of the period at
which, according to one of the doleful hymns of our
nation, the average life is supposed to say farewell to
the world.'

' It is not so easy to bury one's past. All the gods
in our pantheon — and Ave have added a good many
lately — cannot prevent a resurrection. I wish some-
times I could begin life again.'

' That is because,' said Leah, ' your views of the
future are so gloomy just now, and because you ai'e
losing heart. Fits of depression in the present are
always accompanied by resurrections of the past. I
avoid them, and therefore my life up to the time of my
coming to Anuradhapura disturbs me as little as if I
had come straight from the Tusita heaven, whence they
say our next Buddha is to come,'

214 LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH

' Your past has not been very heavenly, I imagine,'
groaned Alypius.

' I say I have buried it, I tell yon ! And I should
think there will be but little danger of resurrections
in such a place as this. This is not a time for depres-
sion, when oar mission for the regeneration of men by
the aid of the Reconciler is so successful. My ambition
is being realised more rapidly than I had hoped for.
The invisible Reconciler who reigns in Sarana is the
true ruler of this great city to-day. The king bows
at his shrine, and consults him more than he does his
ministers and his priests. The princely artist is now
one of his most frequent worshippers, and is constantly
imploring permission to see the great Master, that he
may produce his similitude in wood or stone for the
adoration of the multitude. Little he knows of the
nature of the multitude. The chief queen is our most
devoted adherent ; and, let me tell you, when we secured
her we secured the State. The entire priesthood — and
the city seems to me sometimes as if it were laid over
with yellow by the robes of the multitudinous order-^-
is altogether on our side, with one or two exceptions
which we shall now easily dispose of

' I am afraid it will not be so easy as you think.
It is true that Abhayo Thero is losing favour, but one
can never be sure of what may happen in such cases,
especially as the prince is only half-hearted in taking
up the prosecution. He finds it hard to break alto-
gether with his old friend. Then there is Thuparama,
who is continually asking for proofs and requiring ex-
;planations of discrepancies. Our position, of which
you have given so glowing a description, is not by any
means assured yet.'

■LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH 215

' Well, it is of no use talking with you about our
prospects in your present state of mind. But Kapu-
randa the astrologer, who ought to know his people if
anybody does, is as sanguine as I am. What a miracle
of ingenuity we have in that corpulent little person !
How admirably the shi'ine he constructed answers our
purposes, and with what satisfaction do the votaries
receive the little bits of ola with the replies of the
Master to their numerous questions ! Little do they
think that the Reconciler in preparing those replies has
access to the horoscopes of all the chief personages in
the city, and is familiar with the secrets of tho' State
and of all the leading families. Yon may rest assured,
Alypius, that, with the very slight exceptions you have
referred to, this city believes as profoundly in the
Reconciler as it does in the Buddha. The rate at which
we have gone up in the faith and esteem of the public
of Anuradhapura is amazing, even to one of my ex-
perience.'

' Yes ; and to quote one of those simple Sinhalese
proverbs which that sleepy idiot Kiri Banda is so full
of, " If you jump up, you will fall down ! " And we
should be prepared for such a contingency with plenty
of padding, to make the fall as easy as possible. I
doubt very much whether there is so profound and so
popular a belief in the Reconciler as you imagine. The
people will go with the nobles, and the nobles will
follow the priests. At present they seem gullible
enough on the whole, but there are a few who doubt,
and their doubts may be our ruin. We may see
Lucian's farce in " The Council of the Gods " become a
grim reality when the right of the Reconciler to sit on
Olympus may be put to the most searching tests,'

2i6 LEAirS CONFESSION OF FAITH

'Never mind, friend! We will be ready for tBem,
Our powers of invention are not yet exhausted. But
should the calamity come about, which, I am persuaded,
only exists in your diseased imagination, I doubt not
I shall be prepared. It is not by any means my inten-
tion to stay here for ever. I have never yet been to
Rome, and if our business in Sarana continues to
flourish at the present rate, it will be easy for me in the
course of a year or two to visit the imperial city in a
condition not unsuited to my ambition. Our gains
are not small, as you know. I have always told you
that the most productive gold mine in the world is
human gullibility ; and I am following the example of
the people of the country, Avho invest their wealth in
jewels, as the best form for security and conveyance.
By the throne of Solomon ! or the Sacred Tooth of
Gautama! or the sceptre of Jupiter! — or whatever you
will — I believe Sarana to be the finest gem-pit in the
kingdom ! And I know a good stone when I see it, as
you can testify. I doubt if Jotthiyo himself is a better
judge. Wait a moment, and I will show you something
which may lift you out of your cheerless mood and put
a little life into you ! '

Leah retired into another room, from which she
soon returned bringing with her a strongly-bound box,
which, after securing the room from intrusion, she
opened, displaying a collection of jewels resting on
cushions such as even Alypius had rarely if ever seen
brought together in one place before. He looked at it for
a few moments in entranced amazement, and then Leah
saw a look in those dazzled eyes which made her wish
that she had not been quite so confidential. It was not
that the number of the jewels was so great, but the quality

LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH 217

seemed perfect. There was scarce a stone that con-
tained a single flaw. The colours were gorgeous.
There was one set which Leah had fancifully arranged
in the form of an arch, resting against a cushion covered
with pale blue silk, composed of magnificent sapphires,
rubies and opals. This especially claimed the admira-
tion of the Greek. It was a necklace, which Leah's
fancy had arranged like a miniature rainbow with its
glory solidified.

' But,' said Alypius, ' I miss from this glorious col-
lection the royal gem which Avas to have been the right
eye of the new statue of the Buddha.' And he looked
closely into the face of the Jewess to see what effect the
hint might produce.

' Ah, if we could only secure that/ returned Leah,
with apparent sincerity, ' my collection would be com-
plete ! We shall see. I may have something to tell
thee about that before long.'

'As I look at all these treasui-es,' said the Greek,
' it seems to me that my share in the profits of the gem-
pit, as you describe Sarana, has been a very dispropor-
tionate one. The Reconciler has given me nothing
like that, and I know that Kapuranda has received
much less than I. Such a partial distribution of favours
is not seemly in one holding such a position.'

* You jump too readily to conclusions, my friend.
This was not all made in Sarana, though many of the
stones were presented by my admirers here. This is the
result of many years of toil and — well, ingenuity. This
is the only time they have ever been exhibited. I have
been known to the world as — let us say— an excellent
woman living in deep poverty, either involuntarily or
voluntarily, for my soul's good. And at times in my

2iS LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH

wanderings over the earth I have suffered persecution,
I have endured starvation, I have been brought down
within sight of SheoL And that rainbow band of
beauty wliich you see there has been, together with
another treasure, still more precious, my consolation
and my hope. Oh, the beauties ! To feel that one has
such wealth and power concealed in one's dress, wrapped
up in a bit of cloth ! With that secure, what is the
disfavour of kings, of bishops and priests ? And what
is the evanescent applause of the multitude compared
with those glorious colours, Avliich will endure as long
as the world lasts. The coins which the foreigners are
bringing to Anuradhapura now from the mint of Hera-
cleia will, in time, be battered beyond all recognition,
or will be worthless curiosities to future generations.
These treasures, struck off from the great mint of Nature,
will retain their value everywhere and for ever. This
is the true universal coinage stamped with the image of
the great god of light.

' I remember your saying once that you wondered
whether I really had a religious faith. I will give you
now a confession of faith ! This is my religion ! ' point-
ing to the dazzling contents of the small strong box.
' I believe in jewels ! They are hard, solid, beautiful
facts. They are the eternal truth which men talk of as
only symbols. Am I alone in this worship, this faith ?
Nay ! what does your trade teach you if not this, that
jewel worship is the most popular religion in the world?
Look at the engraving on this stone ! It is, as you know,
the " gem of theosophy," Serapis, the lord of the sub-
terranean world and its treasures ; and with him you
have here in the one headpiece Ammon and Phoebus,
all personifications of the Solar Genius, and all united in

LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH 219

that indissoluble bond of bright hyacinth. Depend upon
it, Alypius, the jewel is the true lleconciler. There you
will find all mankind agreed. The figure which forms
the intaglio may be matter of dispute, but all will agree
in the value of the gem. You sell the stones, and you
enlarge on their religious efficacy and on their healing
virtues, and you find that you can adapt them to any
religious system that was ever framed, and call them by
the name of any god that was ever worshipped, and all
will buy and adore — of all creeds and all nations — ex-
cept perhaps a few morose Christians and philosophers.
Philosophers indeed, as if this were not the highest
philosophy !

' And mark ! ' continued the Jewess. She had now
taken a standing position in her excitement, and was
talking with passionate earnestness to Alypius, who
was struck with a certain fiery beauty in her features,
which the passion expressed in her eyes seemed to throw
over her face. ' Mark this ! When human language
fails men in their attempts to describe the holiest, the
brightest, and best, their only resource for metaphor is
in precious stones. The mountain-heights of human
perfection are always crowned with gems. Plato's
" New World" is like the Jerusalem of Solomon's days.
" Silver is nothing accounted of" in it. The ordinary
stones of it are the gems so much prized here. And
the ideal city of the Christians has for its foundations
precious stones. Is it not the same with our Buddhist
friends? The translations that have been given me of
the Pali verse in which the priests sing of the past
glories of this city are full of descriptions, in which
their greatest kings are likened to precious stones ; and
above all, are not their three Saranas, " the Buddha, the

220 LEAirS CONFESSION OF FAITH

Doctrine, and tlie Order," tlie three divine gems ? There
is jewellery in all religion, my friend. Men may say that
it is a woman's religion. Fools ! How they talk, as if
a woman's religion ever went below a man's ! Her in-
stinct will carry her much nearer the truth than man's
vanity. For the so-called vanity which lies in woman's
attachment to precious stones is not half so vain as
man's affectation of indifference.

' Look at them, Alypius ! Look at these pure
crystals now, as the light shines on them. Have I not
reason to be proud of my religion ? Let me give you
my creed. " I believe in the Sardius, the Topaz, the
Carbuncle, the Emerald, the Sapphire, the Diamond,
Ihe Ligure, the Agate, the Amethyst, the Beryl, the
Onyx, and the Jasper ! " Those were the twelve mystic
stones in the breastplate of the High Priest, on which
my ancestors saw the splendours of the Urim and
Thummim rest. You see our ancient faith has not all
departed from me. You have been dazzled with the
beauty of that arched band of gems. Look ! I will
show you greater things still ! '

And saying this she, having seen again that there
was no possibility of intrusion, drew from a secret
drawer at the bottom of the box a small breastplate
exquisitely worked and embellished, in which were set
the twelve gems which she had mentioned in her con-
fession of faith, and in the order given. By the loops,
Avliich were also made after the fashion of Aaron's
breastplate, as described in Holy Writ, she laid the
wonderful plate on her bosom, and — to the Greek — she
appeared to become at once transformed. Her figure
seemed to rise into a queenly stateliness which was far
removed from her ordinary appearance. Her long hair,

LEAH'S CONTESSlGiV OF FAITH 2ii

"W'liicli was still as black as in her youth, fell from under
her little circular cap down about her shoulders. Her
eyes appeared to him to shine with a greater brilliance
than the jewels which flashed on her breast. It was to
him like a figure which embodied in itself a combina-
tion of priestess and prophetess.

'Do I believe in jewels?' she continued, in what
appeared the language of a sublime passion : ' This is
my religion. Here is my creed. This breastplate has
often been my salvation. I believe in the stones, though
I have so little faith in man and in the inventions of
man. I believe in the power of these gems. Behold
in me a descendant of a priestly line. No ! I have not
buried all the past. There are some of the gems out of
which their natural lustre dies,^ when I wear this plate,
because of my unworthiness. But while it recalls an
evil past it gives me protection in the present, for while
I wear it I bear a charmed life. It was a passion of
mine continued for years to obtain possession by any
means. Why should any human interest stand between
me and the attainment of such an object — of jewels —
either the same as or corresponding to those which once
flashed on the breastplate of Aaron ? stones the most
celebrated for their beauty, brilliance, and magic powers.
I believe I have succeeded in obtaining some that are
the very same. What histories some of these stones
could unfold, were they once endowed with the power
of speech ! Some of them have embellished heathen
shrines, and some have been amongst the choicest trea-
sures of kings. They come from various lands through-
out which the tribes of our people have been scat-
tered. You are thinking of their market value, and of
' An ancient superstition.

222 LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH

tlie wealth in money that they represent. What ! sell
this, for which I have endangered my life over and over
again ; these beauties with their wonderful history !
No, I will die first ! What life of man could be com-
pared in value with such a treasure as this ? But there
is still one thing wanting to make it complete. One
thing which I would give this right arm to gain. It
is my dream day and night. To secure it I would
endure any hardship. I would still cross oceans, and
journey on foot over burning deserts. For it I would
brave the hatred of men or the scorn of women. There
is no danger or risk that I would run from, were it
necessary to the accomplishment of this great object.

' Hast thou ever thought,' and Leah leant forward,
speaking in a hoarse whisper, while her eyes blazed
with a fierce, hungry passion, ' of the Urim and Thum-
mim, the stone which was the chief glory of the sacred
breastplate ? Where is it ? It must be somewhere
in the wide world ; and it is the profoundest ambition
of my life to secure it. It is not yet amongst my
treasures ; but I have a faith that I shall not die without
seeing that desire realised. It may be near now. All
my life in all its variety of experience shall all be bent
to the attainment of tliat one object. For that I have
come to this island of gems, and with that end in view I
submit to the most searching examination every stone
of importance that I know of, at all answering to the
reference in the Hebi-ew scriptures to that jewel of
divine radiance. When that is found, I shall have
grasped the true Sarana, the gem of gems.

' Am I mad to have told thee this ? I, who am
usually so cautious and reticent. Nay, for I think
thou canst help me in thy calling, and that discovery

LEAiPS CONFESSION OF FAITH 223

shall bring tliee wealth untold. But dare not to think
of obtaining these treasures by fraud or violence. I
tell thee, the fate of Sisera, who fought against Israel,
would certainly be thine.' And as Alypius looked
into the face of the Jewess he felt that the hands
of this Jael would know no trembling in applying the
hammer and the nail.

After a brief pause the breastplate was put back
and the box securely fastened, and then Leah became
her old self. ' I should have been a fool,' she said, ' to
show the treasures to other than yourself. But our
interests are now so inseparable that I can apprehend
no danger. And if our scheme succeed, as it is
certain to, when the incomparable Irene becomes the
bride of Alypius, she shall be dowered with jewels
which might well be the envy of a queen. What
about her father, the old Sj^rian ? '

' So far as he is concerned, our plan is carried out
to the letter. But I cannot help reflecting on myself
ibr the impositions I have practised on his simple, con-
fiding nature. He has no head for business, and it has
not been at all difficult to persuade him that our firm
was approaching its ruin. His chief thought Avas of
the numerous friends Avho would be involved in the
catastrophe, and of the disgrace which would bo at-
tached to Cliristianity in Anuradhnpura through his
apparent dishonesty— as if I should have nothing to
fear on the score of character, in such a case. However,
I believe the old man would sacrifice his life if necessary
to avoid such a calamity. So sensitive is he in all such
matters. It was also not difficult to persuade him that
our salvation as a firm lay in the pearl fishery, which
has just commenced, and that it was necessary for him

224

LEAH'S CONFESSION OF FAITH

to go and look after our interests there. And— well, lie
is now in a small vessel, whose crew are in my pay,
which is bound for the fishery, but which I imagine
will not reach it very quickly. At any rate, it is out of
his power to interfere with our plans for the next two
or three weeks. But I shrink from the use of force.'

' Be a man, Alypius ! I tell you they like it ! She
must be brought to Sarana.' And Leah carried away
her precious box, and the Greek took his departure.

225

CHAPTER XVT.

CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE.

"By the power of this Pirit, may you possess freedom from all
jdangers arising from the malign influence of the planets, or the
demons jjresiding over them. — Gogerly's Translation.

Anuradiiapura was getting hotter than ever as the
days went on, and the monsoon lingered. The rains
from the north-east had hitherto come with ahnost
unfailing punctuality at the close of the third month of
the Wass season (about the middle of October). And
now it was the ' robe-month,' ^ and still the rains came
not.

The poor and rich alike had poured blessings on the
memories of the kings who had made the great tanks
of the city. It was in such a time as this that they
realised the blessedness of these immense works of the
bygone centuries. But now, even in the great tanks,
the water was getting low with the evaporation pro-
duced by the terrific heat, and the water that was left
had to be carefully guarded and distributed.

The drought had brought with it much poverty and
sickness. The hospitals ^ and the ' rice-kitchens ' were

' So called because it is in this month, at the conclusion of the
Wass, that robes are presented to the preachers.

'^ Hospitals were established in various parts of the city, accord-
ing to the Mahawansn, by Dutugemunu B.C. 137.

226 CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

crowded with applicants, ^aiid tlie cliandalas, whose
duty it was to go through the various streets of the
city every day for the removal of the dead, found the
work even greater than the large numbers of people of
their low caste set apart for that office could properly
perform.

Multitudes of people besieged the temples. What
could the gods be about, to delay the rains so long ?
Were they angry with the land ? Where was the sin
which had offended the gods? These questions and
more like them were circulating amongst the people.
They were asked by the gossips one day in the shop
of Jotthiyo the goldsmith, and Jantu thought he had
no difficulty in answering them. There were heresy
and crime in high places, he said. And he looked
at Jotthiyo, as if he thought he had at last said some-
thinsf which should arrest his attention. But the
buzzing and hissing of the goldsmith's wheel never
stayed.

There was to be a great torchlight procession of
priests that night through the principal streets of the
city. And Jantu, who loved a procession almost as
much as he did a gossip, had made up his mind to be
present. With his movements, however, we have but
little to do in this chapter.

Two men were standing on the flat roof of the house
of Joseph the Syrian, watching the line of the proces-
sion, as in the course of its progress it went round the
king's palace, and passed on through the northern part
of the city. They could see by the aid of the torch-light
the foremost priests sprinkling water over the people
and the houses as they marched along the street.
They could hear the cries which came from the vast

CONVEiiSATION' AND CORRESPONDENCE ±2^

Goncourse of people following, wlio had faith that such
a ceremony, in which such numbers of holy men were
engaged, must bring the desired rains. They could
also hear occasional stanzas which the priests chanted
slowly as they marched.

'It is the Ratana, — the Sutra of Jewels,' said
Abliayo to Thomas, for they were the two who were
watching the procession so intently. And the Thero
began to translate some of the verses as they fell
upon the ear beginning with, ' Oh ! all ye demons
who are assembled, terrestrial or celestial, may you all
possess happiness ! Listen attentively to the things
spoken !

' Therefore, ye demons, attend ! Be friendly to the
race of man, and unremittingly protect those who by
day or by night propitiate you by offerings !

' Whatever wealth there may be in this or in other
worlds, or wliatever superior gem in the heavens, these
cannot be compared with the Buddha. This gem-like
Buddha is superlatively excellent. By this truth let
there be prosperity ! '

And concluding with the adoration of the three
Saranas : —

' Ye demons, who arc here assembled, celestial
or terrestrial, we adore Buddha, the Tathagata, wor-
shipped by gods and men. May there be pros-
perity !

' Ye demons, who are here assembled, celestial or
terrestrial, we adore his Doctrines, the Tathagata,
worshipped by gods and men. May there be pros-
perity !

' Ye demons, who are here assembled, celestial or
terrestrial, we adore the associated Priesthood, the

22S CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

Tathagata, worsliipped by gods and men. May tlierd
be prosperity ! ' '

' It is one of the Buddha's protection discourses,'
said Abhayo.

' Do you think tliat Gautama really taught his
disciples to use those words ? ' asked the Christian
presbyter.

' I think there cannot be much doubt of it. It was
one of the earliest duties that I can remember to
commit to memory these and other discourses of a
similar character, to be used for the exorcism of evil
spirits and to invoke the protection of the inferior gods,
as our friends yonder are doing now.'

And the Thero pointed with his long naked right
arm to the priestly procession moving slowly between
the long lines of torches. He continued: — 'My vene-
rated old tutor — who is now fast approaching the end,
and will soon drop out from the procession of human
life— he repeated the words to me. He learnt them
from the lips of his tutor, and so the succession might
be traced back to Mahindo and his colleagues, and
through them back to the Buddha himself. For eight
hundred years and more has the protection been daily
repeated among the multitudes of the followers of
Gautama by the members of the order which he estab-
lished.'

' Does it then take the place of prayer ? '

' It answers for both prayer and worship in one
sense. In another it does not. For there is not one
of those yellow-robed brethren who will not claim
superiority to the gods whose aid they are now invoking.

' Gogerly's translation. The Mahawanso gives a full account of
sucli a cereraony in a drought which occurred at a later period.

CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE 229

The discourses were given by the Buddha to be used
as charms to avert calamity. One or more of them
are chanted on almost every occasion of public or private
importance. And the " saying of Pirit " in a house,
whether the palace of a king or the leaf-hut of a beggar,
is universally regarded as a sign of attachment to the
Buddhist faith. But to be effectual it must be repeated
by a brother of the order.'

' What a contrast,' said Thomas, as if speaking half
to himself and half to his friend, watching the lines of
light as they were passing back by another street to
the king's palace, and listening to the dying wail of the
invocation to the demon-gods, ' what a contrast to
the prayer which the Christ taught His disciples
to say ! '

' I remember it,' said Abhayo ; ' and I have often
thought of the difference between that short beautiful
prayer which our friends repeated to me once in this
house, and which I shall never forget, and such words
as those we have now been listening to — vain incanta-
tions to appease the wrath of angry demons. Already
have I felt its sweetness and power. I have never
heard anything like it. When I first heard it, I went
away repeating the words to myself: "Our Father!
Our Father ! " They were the words I had been want-
ing to say for years. The thought tliat is in them had
been struggling in my mind with a variety of doubts.
There were vague ideas and aspirations which before
could not be expressed. And that word seemed to put
me on my feet before the Great Architect of the
Universe. It was the first time that I ever felt that
I could pray. It was a revelation to me, which quieted
the excitement of my mind and the struggles within

230 CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

mo. " Our Ffither ! "' It was like the crystallising
drop which, falling on a solution seething with a conflict
of the elements, suddenly calms the agitation, and pro-
duces a mass of solid beautiful crystalline forms.'

' I have known others,' said Thomas, ' on whom it
has acted in the same way with a like result.'

' I had come to the conclusion that there must be a
God — the Supreme Creator and Ruler of the Universe.
I had confessed my doubts to the Senior Thero.^ I
talked with some of the brethren in the pansala about
it first. Some were sympathetic. There was one Avho
scoffed, and in his folly said, " If there be such a God,
let Him strike me dead ! " And I remember that my
doubt increased because no dreadful result followed the
blasphemy. But afterwards I reflected that that would
be a poor way of vindicating the majesty of such a God
as I sought. That was not the kind of sign that the
world needed, that I needed to put my mind at rest in
faith. I should rather doubt the more if that had
happened.'

' Why, my friend,' interrupted Thomas, ' that
thought could only have been brought thee by the very
Spirit of the Christ.'

' It may have been so. I do not know. But this I
know, that as I walked back to Mihintala repeating
the words to myself, after having heard Joseph recite
solemnly and touchingly the great simple prayer of his
Lord, I said, " This is the sign that I wanted. There
is such a God ; and now I have found His name. Our
Father ! Our Father ! " You asked me soon after I
came to-night of my progress towards the truth. That

' Auricular confession is provided for in tlie regulations for the
priesthood.

CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE 231

is wliere I stand. That is my religion. I can say
" Our Father which art in heaven ! " '

' Thank God ! ' said Thomas, reverently. ' Be assured
that thou art not far from the kingdom. If thou canst
so use the great prayer, thou wilt soon, I doubt not,
be led to recognise in its Author thy lledeemcr and
Friend.'

After this they fell into conversation about their
mutual friends, about Joseph's return to Anuradhapura,
and his hurried departure for Mahatotai.

Thomas produced a letter which had come only the
day before from Irene, and they withdrew to a room
below, where by the aid of a great copper lamp, in
which several burning wicks floated in oil, he made the
There' acquainted with much of what the letter con-
tained.

' It is now a week since my dear father left us, and
the time has seemed long, but we have had much to
interest us. I daresay you will understand that by WE
I mean Anula, the Indian lady of whom you have heard
before, and the important young person who is now
writing to you. The week has been full of events, and
I greatly regret that I cannot send full descriptions of
them to my father, but you may possibly find an oppor-
tunity of communicating with him. If so, I pray you
to forward this letter to him, to let him know what Ave
have been doing, and that, although he has only been
gone one week, and will probably be back by the end
of another, he is constantly in my mind and in my
prayers.

' The first thing of interest which occurred after my
father's departure was a religious ceremony Avliich was
held in Sikki Banda's house, at his desire, with the pur-

232 CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

pose of averting the influence of evil omens. These
superstitions people imagine that such omens have been
unusually bad and unusually numerous of late. They
do not say so to me, but I feel sure that some of them
are thinking that the presence of the foreigners has
brought them ill-luck. Sikki Banda's harvest has not
been so large or so profitable as he expected. He says
that when he has given to the Mihintala treasurer the
quantity due to the priests, whose monastery was
endowed centuries ago with all the village and fields of
Jambugama, he will have very little left for himself and
his people.'

' It is very true ! ' interpolated Abhayo. ' Vast
numbers of priests are maintained in this city and at
Mihintala in idleness at the expense of the poor vil-
lagers. Buddhist kings, in gratitude for victory, or
deliverance in battle, or as marks of special favour to
friends in the order, would grant deeds of gift for the
maintenance of an image-house, or a monastic establish-
ment. Whole districts have been given to the brother-
hood of Mihintala in that way. There are at present
over a thousand wearers of the yellow robe on the
Holy Mountain, and all, or nearly all, are supported by
these endowments, which afford an unlimited license
of oppression. The knowledge of this has long
been to me one of the most harassing features of ray
position.'

' I can understand,' said Thomas, ' the value of en-
dowments for education, and the propriety of maintain-
ing them. And I can understand that where Buddhism
is the national religion gifts of that kind in perpetuity
would be thought necessary by your rulers, to preserve
the sacred edifices, and to maintain continuous services

CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE 233

in tlie holy places ; but even looked at from a Buddhist
point of view, it must be both wrong and unnecessary
to make the land and the cultivators support such vast
numbers of lazy monks.'

'True, it is inconsistent with the teaching of the
Buddha that the " order " should receive such endow-
ments. The strictest poverty is enjoined on us. We
are supposed to collect the food for each meal from the
householders, and to have no property, with the excep-
tion of three cloths of various kinds, in which vv^e wrap
ourselves, a girdle, the alms-bowl, a razor, a needle,
and a water-strainer. But an evasive distinction is
made between the individual and the community. As
individuals we are still under our vows of poverty, but
as communities we are the proprietors of wealth greater
than that of royalty itself. And that we may seem to
maintain the rules of the " order " forbidding us to
acquire wealth in any way, all the secular work con-
nected with our vast properties is carried on by lay-
treasurers and other secular officers. There is quite a
large establishment of that kind on Mihintala. And
there are inscriptions on stone there, made by one of
our royal benefactors, giving rules for the guidance of
the lay-officers in administering the estates, as well as
for the monks themselves. In the history of our land,
the piety of kings, with their merit, has been measured
by their gifts to the priesthood, and mainly by such
gifts their station in the next birth has been deter-
mined. It was this inducement which made the kings
give away the land from the people to the priests. If
feeding one priest is an act of great merit, what must
be the merit obtained by gifts which will suffice for
feeding thousands in everlasting succession ? '

234 CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

' But surely a king cannot expect his successors to
be bound by such wicked contracts made for the jDur-
pose of securing merit to himself! This state of things
may go on until every inch of land in the kingdom is
possessed by the priests. It will soon become the clear
duty of the rulers to wrest such jDossessions- from the
wiharas and pansalas, to save the country from ruin.
I do not see how such contracts can be more binding
than the foolish dedication, of which I have heard, which
was made on the arrival of the branch of the Bhodi-
tree, when a deed of gift was made to it of the entire
island.'

' It may be,' said the Thero, ' that righteous and
unselfish kings may arise and put an end to this mis-
appropriation of property, and the tyranny that it
gives rise to, but I am afraid it can never be under the
influence of '(hQ Buddhist faith. The temptation to
accumulate merit of that kind is too strong. Accumu-
lating merit for the kings means accumulating misery
for the people. But this is a long interruption which
I did not intend. Pardon me ! '

Thomas went on with the letter.

' A large room was converted into a kind of preach-
ing-hall for the ceremony, or series of services, for it
has already lasted four days, and may continue two or
three days longer. It began with the bringing of a
relic — a hair from the head — of the Buddha (for such
the poor idolatrous people claim it to be, and Anula
says it is almost as sacred as the Tooth itself, of which
Anuradhapura is so proud) from the village temple.
The villagers say that this sacred relic is as powerful in
protecting from evil as the personal presence of the
Buddha himself would be. The casket containing the

CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE 235

relic was placed in great state on a table of carved
ebony, near Aviiicli two priests sat on high seats reading
from their scriptures. When the reading was finished
the sacred cord called the Pirit Noola {Xh^^ protection
string) was tied around by the wall inside the room,
the ends being fastened to the reading chairs, and then
laid on the table which supported the relic. Then a
large number of priests began chanting the Pirit
verses, holding the sacred cord while they sang, in
order that they might have a direct bond of connection
with the relic.

' The services are all conducted in Pali — the sacred
language — and I believe that, with the exception of the
priests, Anula is the only person in the village who
understands it. The people reverence her greatly, and
seem to imagine that she must be supernaturally gifted.
A learned woman is a marvel to them. But her attach-
ment to me is regarded, I am certain, with great sus-
picion. And, indeed, sometimes I cannot understand
how we came to love each other so dearly. I can
understand my affection for her, because she has
qualities of mind and heart which are most attractive
and beautiful, in spite of her heathen superstitions ; but
it is marvellous that she should have become so attached
to me, and I think it is, although she does not confess
it, a manifestation of the attractive power of Christian
truth. I believe that the Spirit of our Divine Saviour
is working upon her mind. And she is struggling
hard to overcome it. She talks of a love for me, but I
believe there is in her, in spite of all her protestations,
her religious observances and penances, a growing love
for Jesus of Nazareth.

' She acknowledges that her mind is full of doubts,

236 CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

but she says that the struggle will cease, and the doubts
will no longer trouble her, when she has taken the de-
cisive step of joining the Buddhist sisterhood of female
recluses in Anuradhapura, wdiich she has determined to
do as soon as she can get away. And that will be soon
now, for the messenger who takes this to you brought
her a message from the queen and the Indian princess,
urging her to take this step, and saying that a suitable
escort would soon be sent for her to take her back to
the city. It is possible that I may avail inyself of the
same opportunity of returning, if my father does not
come back before. But I cannot bear the thought of
Anula becoming like the shaven-headed women whom
we see sometimes parading the streets near our house
(which may God have in His loving protection — the best
" Pirit ! ") with flower-offerings and with begging-boxes!
You have never seen her, my dear pastor, but if you
could see her, even you would say that it was revolting
to think of shaving that beautiful head, with its rich
masses of flowing black hair. I think Kumari has
transferred all her adoration from me to the lady with
" the resplendent head," as she phrases it.

'Now I am falling into that light style of communi-
cation which, I am afraid you will say, is characteristic
of the sex to which I belong.

' I am writing a long letter, but I must find space
for a description of what occurred here yesterday. You
will know that this month is called by the Sinhalese
the " robe month." And yesterday the great ceremony
from which the month takes its name took place in
Jambugama. Nearly all the village engaged in it.
Anula was exceedingly busy during the early part of
the day, and Kumari went about looking very import^

CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE 237

ant, because she was permitted to join in the prepara-
tions for the making of the robe. She seemed to regard
me with great pity because I had no part in the matter.

' The robe had to be made from the beginning to
the end in one day ! Kumari and several other girls of
the same age went out to the cotton bushes, as soon
as it was dawn, to bring in the pods that were required.
And very pretty they looked as they came in, bounding
with the excitement of the occasion, bringing their little
burdens to the reading-hall. In the hall Anula sat on
a mat on the floor, surrounded by the women of the
village, some of them opening the pods, others cleaning
the cotton, and others spinning, while girls handed it,
when ready, to the weavers outside, who sat at the
looms making the cloth.

' When the cloth was finished, it was handed to the
priests, who immediately set to work with their needles.
When the work of the needles was concluded, the robe
was handed to the dyers, who had prepared for that
purpose a dye obtained by the boiling of the roots of
certain trees. And in a very short time the important
garment was ready for presentation to the fraternity.
A council of priests was then held, for the purpose of
deciding who the recipient should be. It seems that
the rule is that it should be given to the most destitute,
but the practice is to give it to the chief preacher at the
Wass.

'I have written of these things at such length,
because I think you will like to know something of the
religious life of the people.'

Here Thomas put aside the letter. The metallic
basin which formed a part of the water clock kept in
the room had fallen to the bottom of the vessel in

238 CONVERSATION AND CORRESPONDENCE

which it was placed. The Thero arose, gathering his
robe about him, saying, ' I may not wear this much
longer ! I must hasten away now. My dear old tutor,
of whom I spoke to you, needs my presence.' And
saying this he took his departure.

239

CHAPTER XVII.

IN WHICH ABHAYO THERO GOES TO MIHINTALA FOR
THE LAST TIME.

There was there a Samanean of exalted virtue, one who observed
the precepts with exactitude, and lived in the greatest purity.
. . . When he was dead, the king, liaving consulted the rituals and
the sacred books, conducted his funeral as beseemed an Arhat.

Fa Hian's Pilgeimage.

'Why are you going towards the sacred tree when
everybody else is on the way to Mihintala ? '

' Because I am not " like the short-tailed cow who
ran because the others ran," ' replied Kiri Banda. ' But
you look as if you were out for a great festival, Jantu !
Menika is with you, I see, and all your women-folk.
Is it a pilgrimage ? '

'It is like you to pretend not to know what is
calling so many people out in this direction to-day,
although, of course, there are not such crowds as there
are at the great ceremonies, or as there will be in a few
days at the Mahinda festival. The holy hermit of the
Mihintala rock-cell is dead, and they say that the fune-
ral rites will be attended by thousands of priests, and
even by royal personages, and carried out in a manner
suited to the spiritual rank of so virtuous a character.
And as we have not been to the Sacred Mountain for so

240 ABHAVO THERO GOES TO MIHWTALA

long a time, Menika thought — that is to say — 1
thought ' — and Jautu glanced back to where his fol-
lowers stood at a respectful distance in the rear — ' that
this would be a sight worth seeing, and that the journey
on such an occasion might bring us much merit, though
the women can only watch the procession from a
distance.'

' It would require a great deal of merit,' returned
Kiri Banda, ' to take me such a distance on such a day
as this, through all the glare of the dagobas and temples
tliat one has to pass between on the way to Mihintala.
Why, the sun is almost hot enough to burn the old monk
without the aid of a torch ! '

' By the way,' said Jantu, ' who will apply the
torch ? It seems that the old hermit had no relatives.
Abhayo Thero was his favourite pupil, but under present
circumstances he will surely not be allowed to light the'
pile ! Do you know, it is my opinion that the gods are
punishing the city with this terrible drought because
of the wickedness and heresy of that man who is still
wearing the robe of the order. Else why was it that
that solemn and magnificent procession of the priests
who chanted Pirit through the principal streets the
night before last failed to bring the rains ? '

' I have an idea of the reason,' returned Kiri Banda,
with half a wink of the eye which was turned from the
gossip. '• The gods are angry with certain joersons with
long tongues who are setting the city on fire with
scandals concerning some of the holiest men in the
priesthood. There is one especially whom I might
name, who will require to be sacrificed, I imagine, before
the powers of the air will let the rains come. A word
of advice, my friend ! It will take more than a journey

FOR THE LAST TIME 241

to Mihintala to acquire merit sufficient to cover tlie sins
of the person I am speaking of. " Some people shut the
doors of their own houses, and busy themselves in driv-
ing away dogs from the houses of others." There are
sins that are quite as bad as heterodoxy Avith regard to
the faith.'

' Tiiat is true,' said Jantu, lowering his voice ; ' and I
n.ay not have been all that I should have been ; but they
say, and you must know something of it, Avith all your
knowledge of people's private affairs, that the Thero of
whom we have been speaking has stolen a gem ; not an
ordinary stone, but the divine jewel which the king had
given to the new statue of the Buddha ! What do you
think of that ? '

'I agree Avith the proverb, that "it is easier to
argue Avith a thousand intelligent men than Avitli one
fool." '

Jantu Avas ready with an angry retort, but a curiously
sharp and decided cough from Menika attracted his
attention. And although she looked as meek as ever,
it was evident that standing so long in the hot sun had
exhausted her patience, and that the cough Avas equiva-
lent to a command to move on.

Kiri Banda went on his Avay, and Jantu's little
family procession moved towards Mihintala. As they
passed each little shrine erected at a street-crossing,
the head of the family would join the palms of his hands
together and lift them reverentially above his head,
acts of Avorship in which the family folloAved. ' Talk
to me of my sins, indeed ! ' said Jantu, after he had
passed in that Avay many street-corners Avith their
pedestals of granite supporting small metallic or stone
images of Gautama, before Avhich. on a ledge of granite

242 ABHAYO THERO GOES TO MIHINTALA

the women had placed their offerings of flowers, now
being rapidly withered by the fierce rays of the sun.

But let us go back a day or two, and follow Abhayo
Thero to the deathbed of his old tutor.

It was the morning after his conversation with Mar
Thomas. Abhayo saw, as he sat at the entrance of the
cave in the early dawn watching the withered, shrunken
form propped up on dried grass, that the end was draw-
ing very near, and that his oldest friend would probably
take leave of mortality in the coui-se of the day, to
enter on — what ? To go whither ? These questions
would keep recurring as he sat there with the dying
man's early morning meal — which he had prepared
according to the regulations for sick diet — waiting
until he should awake from a doze into which he had
fallen.

Presently the hermit awoke. He could scarcely
see, but he knew that the light was filling his cell. It
gave him pleasure, and he said slowly, ' How good it
is to feel the light ! ' And then, ' But this is the last
time. There will not be another dawn for me !
Abhayo ! art thou there, my son ? How beautiful the
lio-ht is ! But I must take leave of it this day. I
ouo'ht not to love the light, I know. But how hard it
is to extinguish all desire ! My brethren say that I,
lik? the Blessed One, have conquered the five deadly
sins, that I am drawing near the end of the Fourth
Path. That is what I have lived and struggled for.
I have my doubts, my son ! But my brethren are
wiser than I. It may be as they say ; what thinkest
thou, Abhayo ? '

' It is hard to say ; but why talk of that now ? I
have brought thee food, my best of friends ! Food

FOR THE LAST TIME 243

pi'epared with my own hands, such as thou wilt love
to eat even now ! '

' Hush, boy ! Talk not of loving food. I should
love nothing. I care nothing for food, but I do love
the light, and the light is going from me. I have
lived in the light, my days have been spent watching
the light grow and cover the world, and then die again ;
but I could always look forward to a beautiful morning
coming on the morrow. Now I have reached a day
when it will die, and never come again.'

' But there is rest near. Think of that, my dear
old master ! '

' True, lad ! But it is rest in the darkness, and I
love the light! What is Nirvaua? The scriptures
say that it is what succeeds when the lamp of existence
is burnt out. That is darkness, and I love the light.
And I — come near, Abhayo ! — I — love thee, my son ! '

' Eat a little food, my father ! ' said Abhayo, in a
voice almost choked with emotion. ' It will make
speaking easier. j\Iuch talking now is not good.'
And without waiting for consent he held the leaf on
which the food rested to the old man's mouth.

After a brief j^ause, the dying man went on again
slowly : ' Dost thou remember, my son, our talk of
prayer, the night before the Wass began ? I said I
would pray for thee. Since then I have prayed.
Every day, I have thrown out a prayer from my lijos,
in the hope that it would be caught by some god who
could give thee aid. But is it right for me to pray ?
Prayer means desire, and desire is evil. Besides, the
gods are our inferiors. We are of the sacred order, and
above all the gods. And I — my brethren tell me that
the merit of my life and of my previous births is so

Q 2

244 ABHAYO THERO GOES TO MIHINTALA

great that I could command the services of all the gods
in all the heavens. Such is the power, they say, of him
who lives in the chief path. I have tried, my son — I
would do anything for thy good, but the very effort has
shown desire, and the demerit has weakened my power
and confused my mind. Nay ! do not trouble. I can
talk better to-day than for many days past, but I feel
that the light is going.

' It is good to pray, child ; I have felt it good, even
though one sees not whither the prayers go. How much
better it would be if we could reach a great strong god
who was able to help ! Ah ! if the Buddha were alive,
perhaps he could help. The light is still going — -and
my mind gets confused.'

' There is such a God, my beloved master. I have
found Him at last, and to Him I pray.'

' Found Him, my son ! Who is He ? Where is
He?'

' Our Father ! ' replied Abhayo, solemnly and em-
phatically. ' It is the great God who gave us the light
and gave us life.'

' " Father." Thy father died when thou wert a babe,
Abhayo. He was tall, as thou art. He was more like
his paternal ancestors, who came from the north of
India, than he was like his mother's race. He was my
friend. He was a favourite of Maha Sen, and he was
heretical too. It is in the blood, perhaps ! Have 1 told
thee this before ? Of course I have. How well I re-
member when they brought thee to the pansala ! The
sturdy little fellow, what legs and arms he had ! And
how quickly he learnt the names of the Blessed One !
I have loved thee as my own child, Abhayo. Oh, the
niadness of it — that I should talk of love and child —

FOR THE LAST TIME 245

but it is true. I have tried to be to thee as a father.
What was it ? Say the name of that God again, my
son?'

' Our Father,' repeated Abhayo.
' Yes, I was saying I have tried to be a father to
thee, but oh, how little could I do ! What power is
there in these limbs ? And sometimes my mind is
confused. The light is still going, my son ! How little
can I do for myself ! And yet they say that my power
is above all the heavens, if I would only exert it. I
might have worked miracles, as other Arhats have done.
My brethren say that I have told them wonderful things
in my dreams, that in such dreams I have shown myself
possessed of a knowledge of all the past, and have
travelled in many worlds ; but my mind is not clear,
and the light is going ! Thou shouldest have a stronger
than I to care for thee. Say it again, lad ! Who is
He?'

' Our Father,' repeated Abhayo again, ' my beloved
teacher. No father could have been more tender or
more fatherly than thou hast been with me. God is
great, and He is like thee in thy love. He is thy Father
too, the Giver of light.'

'My Father — Our Father, the Giver of light,' said
the dying man. ' Send for the brethren, boy ! the light
is going.'

They came, the senior monks, and sat around the
rough couch chanting the stanzas appointed to be said
in the presence of one who is about to die ; while
Abhayo, in tears, supported with his strong right arm
the hermit's head, with no thought of how soon the
touch might be unclean.

The monks chanted the stanzas, but the dying man

246 ABHAYO THERO GOES TO MIHINTALA

heard not. He liacl gone Lack into the past. He was
in the pausala with the boys about him, full of young
life wi'iting on the sand and repeating the sacred names.
And then he was in the ordination hall witnessing
Abhayo taking the vows.

The monks chanted on. Their weird song told all
the dwellers on the sacred hill that the holy Arhat was
about to accomplish the victory of Nirvana.

The old man struggled. ' Art thou here, Abhayo ?
Yes, I feel thy arm. No arm like thine ! ' Then he
dozed again, and the chant of the monks continued.
Then he woke again, and said faintly, only Abhayo could
hear him : ' " Our 'Fatlicr^'' the light is (loing, let it come
agaiyi to-morrow!' There was a last flicker, and the
lamp had burnt out.

Abhayo stayed all that day and the next, to render
what assistance might be required from him for the
cremation ceremony, which was fixed for the evening of
the next day.

Jantu was not disappointed in his expectations. In
spite of the doubts expressed by Abhayo, the monks of
Mihintala reported to the king that the hermit had died
an Arhat, and the kiug had commanded that the funeral
should be conducted with all the magnificence that the
ritual for the dead would admit of, for no monarch could
be so great as the man who had trodden the chief path,
and vanquished desire. Prince Detu, Dliarma Sen, and
others of high rank attended the funeral in great state.

Two thousand priests walked in slow procession to
the burning-place with the body, which, wrapped in
the robe of the order and covered with a white cloth,
was supported on a bier carried on the shoulders of the
slaves belonging to the monastery, preceded by the

FOR THE LAST TIME 247

death-drums. Arrived there, they arranged themselves
in a vast circle around the pile of costly and fragrant
wood, over which a canopy of beautiful decorations in
flowers and leaves rested on tall arches formed of the
stems of graceful palms. The body was placed on the
pile, and the cloth which covered it presented to the
priest appointed to recite the offices for the occasion.
He chanted selections from the Sutras in praise of the
holy ones who had attained to Nirvana, the great crowd
of priests joining in the refrain at the end of each
stanza. He sang of ' the wise ones of the earth, who
having no desire, and having destroyed the cause of
their existence and completed their Karma, are ex-
tinguished like the lamp,' the men who had broken the
' five fetters ' in which mortality is enslaved : (1) self-
delusion, (2) doubt, (3) dependence on religious cere-
monies, (4) the passions of the body, and (5) all hatred ;
the Arhats who had conquered all love of life, all desire
for life hereafter, all pride and self-righteousness, and
who had triumphed over ignorance.

A brief pause ensued, in which a breathless silence
was observed in the immense crowd. After which the
officiating priest intoned a few stanzas from Buddha's
discourse to the bereaved : —

' In this world the life of man is one without a
cause.

' Unknown, miserable, a little thing — and even that
mixed up with sorrow.

' There is indeed no means by which those born
could be prevented from dying. Even after arriving to
old age, there is to us death. One dies ; such is the
nature of a living being.

' The young and the old, the ignorant and the wise,

248 ABHAYO THERO GOES TO MIIIINTALA

wliosoever tliey be, all come under tlie influence of
death, all stand as it were on death, or end in death.

' Even thus the world is afflicted with death and
decay ; therefore wise men, knowing the course of
things in the world, do not give way to grief.

' Even if a man lives a hundred years or more, he
is separated from his relatives and yields up his life in
this world.

' Therefore, hearing the words of the holy ones, over-
come the lamentation arising from seeing one's dead
body and knowing, " He will not be found by me
again."

' He who seeks his own happiness should draw out
from him the darts of his bewailing and many expres-
sions of grief and sorrow.

' He who, not clinging to any object, has drawn
his darts out, will arrive at a tranquil state of mind,
overcome every kind of grief, and become sorrowless,
undisturbed in mind.' ^

The three Saranas and the five precepts of the
Pan-sil were then repeated by both priests and people,
after which more wood was piled on above the dead,
and a flaming torch put into the hands of Abhayo
Thero. Ho took it listlessly, scarcely thinking of what
he was doing, but rather of the stanzas on bereavement
which had just been chanted, and which seemed to him,
though he had often heard and spoken them, so helpless
and hopeless, so different from the words of the Christ.
He could easily make himself alone in a multitude, and
now as he walked three times around the pile — instead
of reciting the ' Refuges ' three times, as he was ex-
pected to, he said as if to himself — in contrast to the
' From Sir M. Coomara Swamy's translation.

hVR THE LAST TIME 24O

words of tlic Buddha lie had just listened to, the words
of Jesus which had been translated to him from
Thomas's manuscript of St. John's Gospel : — ' / am tJio
licsurrection and the Life. Whosoever liveth and he-
Ueveili on Me shall never die.' This he said three times,
and then put the torch to the pile, which was immedi-
ately wrapped in a great blaze.

It was his last Buddhist ceremony, and as he stood
looking at the leaping flames, it seemed to him as if he
were watching the burning of himself, of his past life,
and of his old creed.

The brethren of the monastery had been kind ; the
chief Thero especially, who had resisted all attempts to
prevent Abhayo from performing the last sad act of
respect to the dead — the last but one, for the last was
to come, when in ten days they would return to the
burning place to collect the ashes. And even this
would be permitted to Abhayo, so the chief Thero said,
in talking to him after the funeral ; but an earlier date
had been fixed for the investigation of some heavy
charges against him. It was considered of sufficient
importance to hold the chapter for the examination in
Ihe Brazen Palace, and it was to be lield on the day
after the Mahinda festival, which was only seven days
off. The old priest spoke in words full of sympathy,
for he had been proud of this eloquent member of his
establishment. But Abhayo looked as though such
events in the future were small matters.

That evening, in the dusk, Abhayo Thero passed
Jantu and his little family procession on the return
journey. Menika was critical. She thought it was a
stupid custom which kept women away from funerals,
and she poured a torrent of wrathful words on her

250 ABHAYO THERO GOES TO MIHINTALA

husband for being so long at the burning-place ; as if
all the funeral arrrangemeuts had been in his hands.
Jantu tried, with no great success, to divert her atten-
tion to the notables who were returning to the city.

' There,' said he to Menika, as the tall monk went
by at a swinging pace, 'you have seen him before.
That is the Mihintala Thero. It was he who applied
the torch after all. I shouldn't Avonder if he is going
now to see that one-armed Christian priest. They tell
me that they have become close friends. Ah well !
We shall soon see what we shall see.'

Abhayo was going, as Jantu had conjectured, to
see Thomas, and would return no more to Mihintala.

251

CHAPTER XVIII.

FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS.

... It seems a restlessness of heart, a silent yearning,
A sense of something wanting, incomplete.

Beowning's The Ring and the Book.

' If this will not bring the rains, nothing will but the
punishment of the guilty persons on account of whose
sins this terrible drought has come to us.' It was
Jantu who was speaking to his usual audience in the
shop of Jotthiyo, and he was speaking of the elaborate
preparations which were being made for the Mahinda
festival,

' Why should this bring it more than any other
ceremony ? ' asked one of the little party, the one who
has already been introduced to the reader in connection
with the gossip at the goldsmith's as a stranger to
Anuradhapura.

' Because the king, in establishing it, made all the
route of the procession as like as possible to the decora-
tions which King Bimbasara made for the road on which
the glorious Buddha walked on his way to Wesali,
where the people were dying by thousands of the
pestilence which a long drought had brought on them.
And as soon as the Prince of the Sages began the

252 PRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS

journey the raiii fell, and the kingdom was saved. My
brother says there is no doubt that such a procession
will compel the demons who are holding back the
monsoon to loosen their hands. We shall see ! My
opinion is that the rains will not come till the great
jewel is recovered for the image of the Vanquisher, or
till the evil-doer who has stolen it meets with his just
IDunishment.'

' Are they making diligent search for it ? '
' It is said that the strictest investigation is
being made privately. It would soon be discovered
if one of us were suspected ; at any rate, there would
be very little delay in dealing with such as we are.
We should soon be brought to the ordeal under such
circumstances. But when it is a priest it is a different
matter.'

' But you are not certain that the priest has done
it,' suggested one of the company.

' I am not far from it, then, I can tell you ! ' replied
Jantu, snappishly. ' And there is somebody else who
knows, or ought to know, as well as anybody, and he is
as certain of it as I am, and that is Kapuranda the
astrologer. He was talking to a lot of us about it last
night, and, as he said, it is our property that is stolen,
for the jewel was, in a sense, a gift to the city. I
wonder the people do not rise in a mass to crush the
priest and his friends the Christian foreigners, for
there is no doubt that the gem is somewhere amongst
them.'

It was true, as Jantu had suggested, that the
astrologer had spent much time in impressing his
suspicions with regard to the lost gem on the minds
of the people. And, as a consequence of such insinua-

FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS 253

tions and tlio wide circulation obtained by Jantu's
gossip, the tide of popular indignation was rising high
against Abliayo Thero and the Christians. In the
opinion of the multitude, some colour was given to the
suspicion by the Thero's avoidance of all publicity in
these days.

He had given his word that he would appear in
answer to the charges which had been preferred against
him. Meanwhile, he spent most of his time with
Thomas in the study of the Christian Scriptures. It
was his duty, he said, to weigh the evidence for the
claims put forth on behalf of Christianity. He had
learnt much, and his faith had grown, but he could not
rest with his present attainments. There was still much
of uncertainty in his mind. And he wanted to be
very certain before he took the final steiJ which would
sever him from the associations in the midst of which
his life had been spent. All this was to Abhayo a
matter of much greater importance than the formal
impeachment for heresy which was now drawing so
near.

As to the other suspicion, which had been hinted
at by the senior Thero, he had scarcely given it a
thought, except that the chief priest must have been
talking in parables, and probably meant something
about the damage he was doing to the ' gems ' of
the Buddhist faith. His duty was clear, and he felt
compelled to proceed with the investigation of the
supernatural claims of the Christian religion. And
it was natural to a man of his intensely earnest
character that he should not be satisfied with any-
thing short of -the fulles': light attainable, and that
he should pursue such a course, regardless, for the

254 FRIENDLY CONTKOVEKSIALISTS

time, of all claims which were not a matter of life and
death.

During one of these days of study, another letter
arrived from Irene, a portion of which Thomas translated
to his friend.

The letter was very much occupied with Anula.
' She is determined, as I told you in my last,' wrote
Irene of her friend, ' on entering the Buddhist sister-
hood. And since I wrote you she has been telling
me much of what her life will be when she has taken
the vows. How I wish I could dissuade her from
taking that step ! It is true that the act is not irre-
vocable, but it will be hard for her to return to such a
life as we have lived here. It will mean death to our
friendship.

' I am afraid that my knowledge of Christianity
is weak and small, and my advocacy of it is too
feeble in dealing with such a faith and such a nature as
hers. If she had an opportunity of listening to your
presentation of the truth, the result would, I cannot
help thinking, be very different. I told her so the
other day. She smiled sadly, and said that nothing
could break her determination. She feels that she is
losing ground, and talks of life as a constant battle
between that which produces merit and that which
produces demerit. Often I cannot follow her in her
metaphysical talk. She uses many words which I can-
not understand, and when the word? are explained,
sometimes I find great difficulty in grasping the ideas.
She says that the great mystery of Karma is not
easily understood, any more than certain mysteries of
the Christian faith which I have been talking to her
about.

FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS 255

' As far as I can understand it, however, it means
the result of life, which result, according to its good-
ness or badness, influences the further course of the
stream of transmigration. She illustrated it to me one
day by means of a pair of scales, one of which she
called " Kusal " (merit) and the other " Akusal " (de-
merit). The entire balance she called " Karma." She
poured grains of sand into both scales, making them
nearly balance each other, and said, " My Karma was
once like that, but for a long time it has been going
like this.'' And she went on gradually transferring
grains of sand from the good to the evil side of the
balance until the " demerit " scale greatly outweighed
the other. When I told her that I thought she must
have been mistaken, that the turning of the scale had
not been apparent to her friends, she began to talk of
the old subject of evil desires interfering with holiness,
and of how people often make religion an excuse for
the gratification of evil desire. I am certain that she
has long been struggling with a great passion which is
very much stronger than any affection which she may
feel for me, and which she thinks is bringing her
Karma down on the wrong side, and this she is deter-
mined to conquer in the life of a recluse.'

At this point in the reading, Thomas turned to his
friend, to ask if that was a correct representation of the
Buddhist doctrine. There was no answer ; and then
he saw that Abhayo was leaning forward with his head
on his hand, as if labouring to conceal some strong emo-
tion. He went on reading :■ — -

' When she talked of the balance and the scales, I
asked her where the weigher was in her illustration.
It could not be complete without that. She knew what

256 FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS

I meant, and said that it weighed of itself. It must, of
necessity, rise or fall, according to the scale into which
our actions or thoughts are thrown. But I think she
is learning to see — I cannot say, I may be too sanguine
— that there must be a Judge with the scales, and that
there is much in the scheme of " Karma " which could
only be accepted with a belief in a Supreme Intelligence
governing the world. That it is so is partially evident
from the fact that she seems compelled often to use the
word " Karma " where we would use the name of God
when we speak of His almighty power and guidance.
It appears impossible even to atheists, such as these
poor Buddhists are, to live without recognising in some
way and under somt^ name the great creating and con-
trolling Mind of the Universe.

' Another debatable subject in our little controver-
sies is the question of the existence of the soul and its
immortality. She answers me still with talk about the
mystery of Karma and of transmigration. She talks of
repeated births into states of life, which follow as a
natural result of the Karma in the previous life. " It
is a mystery," she says. I have replied that it is not
that which puzzles me so much as the contradictions in
the teaching concerning the soul, and such contradic-
tions appear to me fatal to intelligent faith. " How can
personal identity be maintained if there is no soul ?
And in this personal identity every Buddhist aj^pears
to believe. Sikki Banda, for instance, attributes his
bad harvest, poor fellow ! and all his ill-luck, to sin
in a previous birth. And in the birth-stories which
you have been telling me from time to time, you know
the Buddha claims to have a knowledge of all the lives
through which he passed before he became Buddha.

FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS 257

What does lie mean when he says, ' In that birth I was
Rama,' or ' I was the hare ' ? What is the / in that
case, if it does not mean the soul ? " I coukl not follow
her in her reply, but I could not help feeling that
there is in it all, in spite of the Buddhist's denial, a dim
intimation of the life and immortality which Jesus has
brought to light in the Gospel.

' I wonder if there were ever two such girls as
we are, engaged so frequently in such conversations !
But the conversations arise only out of our love for
each other, and each of us desires to convince the other
of what she thinks is the truth. We do not spend all
or even most of our time in this way, however. We
often have a romp with the children, and we take daily
walks. But I am expecting every day now that the
escort will arrive for Anula, and then we shall be
separated. That I cannot bear to think of. It seems
intolerable that one so gifted, so beautiful and high-
minded, should occupy so degraded and degrading a
position as the regulations of the sisterhood demand.
She tells me that one of Gautama's ordinances for the
nuns is this : — " The female recluse, though she be a
hundred years old, when she sees a Samanera novice,
though he be only eight years old and just received,
shall be obliged to rise from her seat when she per-
ceives him in the distance ; go towards him, and offer
him worship." ' He — Gautama — seems to have had the
lowest opinion of our sex. Anula tells me that he is
reported to have said on one occasion : " That which
is named woman is sin." I do not understand how
a woman, and especially such a woman as Anula,

' Hardy's Eastern Monacliism.

258 FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS

can follow a saviour with such views of womanhood.
That funny Kiri Ban da says, " the more a woman is
beaten, the more she likes you ! " It may be on that
principle that women are so attached to the Buddhist
faith. It is strange, at any rate. How unlike Jesus of
Nazareth ! And yet Alypius and his party are for ever
insisting on the resemblances between Christianity and
Buddhism !

' What a long letter I have written you again ! It
occupies my mind in my dear father's absence, and
though you may not approve of all the chatter it con-
tains, I know you will be glad to hear from me, and
you may be interested in our religious controversies.
How I long for my father's return ! Sometimes I can-
not help feeling as if the bad omens which the people
talked of when he left would be realised. But such
thoughts are wrong, I know.

' The drought is terrible. The village tank is
quite dried up, and the stream by which we used to
sit in the evenings has long ceased to run. The poor
cattle are dying for want of grass. What will the
country do if the monsoon delays its coming much
longer ?

' In a few days the time mentioned by my father
as his probable time of absence will have expired.
May our Father in heaven have him in His holy keep-
ing ! '

Thomas found, on finishing the reading, that
Abhayo was not inclined to return to his studies. He
sat for some time in gloomy silence. Then he arose,
saying to himself : ' And so we wander farther and
farther away from each other ! ' And expressing a
wish to go where he might be alone, he retired.

FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS 259

Thomas, who sat wondering for a time at the Thero's
strange words and manner, fell into a sleep on his
couch, overcome by the heat of the day.

If he had known Irene's position at the time that
he was reading her letter, sleep would have been im-
possible. She was at Sarana with the Reconcilers, a
most unwilling guest.

The escort for Anula had arrived at Jarabugama on
the day after that on which the letter was dispatched.
That letter had been delayed for a day or two on the
road by the neglect of the messenger. The escort had
brought a message from Alypius to the effect that he
had heard from his partner Joseph, who was on his way
back from Mahatotai, suffering from fever which he had
caught there, and he would like Irene to come as far as
she could to meet him. He was not dangerously ill ;
but he would like the first face he saw in Anuradhapura
to be hers.

Irene's excitement was intense. She could scarcely
wait for the moonlight, in which the party had decided
to travel, on account of the great heat of the day. She
took no heed of the covmtry through which they passed,
and the beauty of the roads winding along under
the palms and other trees in the light with which
the moon flooded the land. Nor did she listen to
the conversation, if such it might be called, of
Kumari and the myna, which philosophic bird the
little maid had, after much entreaty, been allowed to
take with her in accompanying Irene back to the
city.

Anula comforted her as best she could, and when
they at last got to a part of the city where the man
in charge of the little party said they would have to

B 2

26o FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS

separate in order to reach their respective destinations,
she offered to continue the journey with Irene, partly
because she wished to prolong companionship with her
friend as much as possible, and also because of an inde-
finable dread on her friend's account, which had been
strengthened by the omens she had consulted before
starting on the journey. For Anula was not altogether
above the superstitions of her time and people. But
for the urgency of the occasion she would not have
started at so inauspicious a time. She was beginning
to believe that ill-luck was inevitable to these foreigners,
and to those who associated with them. But, for all
that, her association with Irene had been a pleasant,
restful interlude in her life, only too pleasant and too
restful, she said to herself. And now the time for part-
ing had come, for the leader of the escort declared that
Anula's proposal was impossible, as far as she was
concerned ; but the escort could be divided in such
a way as to make the rest of the journey, which
would not be far or difficult, perfectly safe for each of
them. So it was arranged, and with great emotion
on both sides the two friends took leave of each other,
each thinking that it was not likely they would meet
again.

It was not without some suspicion of Alypius that
Irene had entered on this journey. But she put the
suspicion away from her directly, thinking it unworthy
of her to imagine for a moment that the Greek would
act with anything but straightforwardness at such a
time. If she had known the city better, and under-
stood the route by which she was being taken, her sus-
picions might have been confirmed. But of the way
she was quite ignorant, and imagined herself on the

FRIENDLY CONTROVERSIALISTS 261

road to Maliatotai, until the party halted at the head-
quarters of the Reconcilers, where she was received by
Leah with a ' Welcome to " Sarana " ! ' Then her sus-
picions rushed back upon her like a flood, and a great
fear arose within her.

262

CHAPTER XIX.

TROUBLE AT SARANA.

Like going to make bears dance in the midst of a religious
festival. — Sinhalese Peoveeb.

It was the great day of the Mahincla festival, and
multitudes of people were pouring out of the various
streets in the direction of Mihintala, to see the king
bring the golden statue of Mahindo down the great
stairway of the Sacred Mountain.

Religious festivals and processions have been fre-
quently referred to in the course of this story. They
were, and are still, the great features in the life of the
people, the chief objects of public interest. Other events
are dated from them, and it is to such occasions that the
masses of the people look for almost the only variety
which breaks the dull monotony of their existence.

The people of Anuradhapura loved a procession, and
it must be admitted that this passion of theirs was fully
provided for by the priests and those in authority. In
the larger streets, especially in the southern and eastern
parts of the city, where the ecclesiastical buildings were
most numerous, scarcely a day passed without a procession
of some kind, large or small ; and when they were not
visible in the streets, they might often be seen moving

TROUBLE A7 SARANA 263

in slow and solemn march in the galleries around the
great dagobas.

There was no denying that Anuradhapura was well
supplied with such attractions ; but, with the exception
of the festival held in honour of the arrival of the Sacred
Tooth, there was nothing even in that city of religious
shows which could vie in pomp and magnificence with
the festival which King Meghawarna had instituted to
commemorate the advent of the great Buddhist Apostle
to Ceylon. And in spite of heat and drought and
pestilence, the multitudes moved out of the city towards
Mihintala, for, added to the great attraction of seeing
the procession start, was there not the hope that they
would bring the rain with them on their return ? that
it would fall on the scorched land as it did when the
Buddha walked to Wesali ?

With the multitude of course went Jantu, and with
him Menika, the children, and some slaves, who brought
up the rear of the little family procession.

The crowds passed the shop of Jotthiyo, wondering
much to hear the goldsmith's wheel buzzing and hissing
on such a day as this. Even Jantu, knowing his habits,
was surprised, and would have stopped to expatiate on
the spectacle he was missing, but for the sharp, warn-
ing cough which came from Menika. A merry twinkle
flashed in the eye of Jotthiyo as the party passed on at
the order of the cough. The Sinhalese can make a
cough mean a great deal, and Menika's was unusually
expressive.

They had not gone very far when they were joined
by the Samanera, Jantu's brother, who made himself of
service in describing the pictures with which the road
leading to Mihintala had been decorated on either side

264 TROUBLE AT SARANA

for the great procession. Nothing could be more pic-
turesque or striking than the aspect presented by the
long walls of bright colour formed by the side -pictures,
interspersed by the freshly-gilded dagobas and shrines,
and the numerous arches of wood and leaves which, in a
variety of shapes, spanned the sacred road. But Mihin-
tala itself was the crowning spectacle. Gay banners
streamed from all the temples and other edifices on the
hill. And the multitudes of people in holiday attire,
and thousands of monks in their yellow robes, covered
one side of the hill — the side of the ascent — with great
masses of bright colour that were perfectly dazzling.

Nor was it less striking to look down from the hill
on the vast crowd below, which, as the Mahawanso says
of the attendance at the first of these festivals, ' was like
unto a great ocean,' All about the east gate of the city
and around the foot of the hill it was like an immense
fair. There the people were supplied with refreshments
of various kinds, and the cries of numerous boys might
be heard announcing the sale of sweetmeats of the
highest order of confectionery at the cheapest rates ;
while others proclaimed the virtues of the betel-leaf,
which they sold together with the areca-nut and lime,
all ready for mastication.

But all the cries were suddenly hushed, and the
talk of the crowd, which had sounded like the noise of
the sea, was suspended for a few moments, when the
bands of music on the hill announced the commence-
ment of the ceremony. And the brief silence of the
multitude of spectators was followed by a tremendous
shout, in which a hundred thousand voices seemed to
unite, as the king, gorgeously robed, and bearing in his
hands the golden image of the Buddhist Missionary,

TROUBLE AT SARANA 267

came down the granite stairway, heading the mag-
nificent procession of priests and princes and officers of
state.

Nor was the spectacle less imposing that night when
the procession moved slowly through the worshipping
crowds up the sacred road towards the city. It was a
perfect dream of Oriental splendour. Thousands of
lamps sparkled on the arches and illuminated the road,
as the long line of the royal cortege, guarded by the
flashing spears of the soldiery, following the elephants
bearing the images of Mahindo and his colleagues,
marched solemnly, to the chanting of the priests,
through the great avenue of pictures, which represented,
first, the five hundred and fifty birth-stories of the
Buddha as Bodhisatwa, then the legends concerning
Gautama himself, and, finally, mythical and historic
scenes in which the conversion of King Piya Tissa and
the planting of the Bodhi tree had great prominence.

On arriving at the Maha Wihara, the statue, after
being carried three times in procession around the
sacred tree, was deposited by the hands of the king in
the shrine prepared for its reception, where it was to
remain until the time appointed for conducting it to the
wihara built for it near the royal palace. And so ended
the great ceremony.

The dawn was rapidly breaking in the sky when
Jantu and his little party, tired and sleepy, were leaving
the enclosure of the Sacred Bo. ' And still there is no
rain ! ' murmured Jantu.

' He ! he ! he ! Nor any sign of it that I can see.
Everybody is going home groaning in the same way,
and looking up at the sky, which is as cloudless as ever.'
It was Kapuranda the astrologer, who at once entered

268 TROUBLE AT S ARAN A

into an earnest whispered conversation with Jantu —
and then, as the party left, remained behind saying
to himself: ' That will be the end of him. There is
nothing like working through the mob after all. They
know now — thanks to that old gossip — why the rains
are delayed. He ! he ! ' Thus chuckling, he stood for
a moment in hesitation on the beautifully carved moon-
stone at the bottom of the flight of steps leading up to
the platform of the Bo, and then saying, ' There will be
no visitors at Sarana to-day,' he waddled away as fast
as his corpulence and the abundant clothing swathed
about his loins would permit. He was going to the
goldsmith's shop.

As he had calculated, Jotthiyo was alone. The
gossips were probably fast asleep in their own homes,
tired and exhausted with the part they had taken in
the great festival, as were also the workmen in an
adjoining room. But the goldsmith was as fresh and
his eye as bright as if he had spent the night in the
most invigorating rest and sleep, as, indeed, he had.

' You were at Sarana yesterday, he ! he ! '

' Yes, I was,' returned the goldsmith, strange to
say not disinclined for a talk. ' And I am going again
to-day. That is a bit of information which will give
you no surprise. And you did not come here on purpose
to get it.'

' No, indeed ; but I am anxious, my friend, that our
plans — now that they are so near completion — should
have no flaw in them. Remember, nothing must come
between us and the prize ! I never knew a goldsmith
outwitted yet, and I am certain that old Jotthiyo is not
the one to let the precious opportunity slip when it is
so nearly within his grasp.'

TROUBLE AT S ARAN A 269

A glance from the eye of the goldsmith indicated
that he might be trusted to that extent. ' Let me have
a look at the substitute ! ' said the astrologer.

The goldsmith led the way to the strong box, and
exhibited what appeared to be a magnificent sapphire
of very large proportions.

The astrologer held it up to the light and examined
it carefully, and then grinned with a chuckle of immense
satisfaction.

' We must not be too confident, however,' said
Jotthiyo, ' for we have to deal with one of the best
judges of gems in the city. It is only a question of
time, and, probably, not a very long time. She is bound
to discover it sooner or later, and is much more likely
to do it sooner than later. But some time will elapse
before she does find it out, and perhaps sufficient for
our security. The risk is great, but the prize is worth
it.'

' I should think so indeed ! Why, if you could
bring all the precious stones which have passed through
your hands into one dazzling pile of gems, it would not
compare with it in value.'

To this the goldsmith responded with an enigmatical
grunt, his only comment on unprofessional opinions ;
and then went on to say, ' I was there all day yesterday,
as you know. Jantu and the rest of the gossips passed
this on their way to Mihintala, regarding me as a born
idiot or a perfect marvel of industry, because I kept
my wheel going on such a day. As you can imagine,
the wheel stopped when the city was emptied, and
I was very soon on my way to the shrine of the
Reconciler ! '

' I guessed as much,' said the astrologer; ' and this

270 TROUBLE AT S ARAN A

morning you will be as little likely to be disturbed, for
nearly all the city is asleep ; and in the after part of
the day, if I mistake not, all the excitement will centre
at the Brazen Palace. A better time could not have
been selected. But we must, as you say, have a care,
and look well at all the possibilities. The Greek,
Alypius, has cast covetous eyes on our object, and but
for the fact that he is so intensely absorbed just now in
his love affairs, he might prove a formidable rival. It
would be a shame to let such a prize as that pass out
of our nation, he ! he ! '

' I am not afraid of the Greek. I believe he is a
coward at heart,' returned Jotthiyo ; ' but the Jewess is
cast in an altogether different mould. Sometimes I
can more than half imagine that she is the prophetess
and miracle-worker she claims to be. And as to the
jewel, she seems to want it more for the purposes of
her magic, for a mighty charm, than anything else.
She told me that when it is fixed in a certain wonder-
ful breastplate which she will put on, it will give her a
power more miraculous than anything she has yet laid
claim to.'

' And that piece of work you are going to do for
her to-day. You are to be well paid for it, are you
not, eh ? ' And the astrologer chuckled with intense
satisfaction.

' The Jewess could not obtain my help without
letting me know something of her secret, and I have
no reason to complain of her terms. I imagine that
your friend, the prince's pupil, must have been still
more liberally paid, for no friend of yours would under-
take such a risk as he did for Leah without abundant
compensation.'

TROUBLE AT SARANA 271

'You ma}'^ depend on that,' replied Kapuranda,
' but the poor young man is living in constant dread
of discovery. We must get him sent out on a long
journey, or there may be difficulties.'

' It is a good thing for us that Kiri Banda, with his
everlasting proverbs, is out of the way,' Jotthiyo went
on to say. ' He knows too much, and I am not at all
certain that he is to be trusted.'

' I have been doubtful of him myself lately,' said
the astrologer ; ' but you may be sure that Alypius has
sent him on such an errand as will keep him away from
Sarana while the fair prisoner is detained there.'

' Yes ; and it is not unfavourable to our plans, I can
tell you, that she should be there, to divert the atten-
tion of the Jewess, and prevent too close a concentration
in watching my work. We may be thankful that she
is occupied with some other considerations as well as
that in which I shall be engaged. I heard the young
lady sobbing yesterday as if her heart would break,
and calling out at intervals for her father and Anula,
her Indian friend.'

' And they are far enough beyond the reach of her
voice — at least her father is — and the Indian lady is
with the sisterhood, they say, and about to take the
vows. You may trust our two friends for making that
all secure. They do not stick at much, and we may
guess that we shall not be very tenderly dealt with if
we fail. But it is worth the risk, and we must not let
the prize go out of the hands of faithful Buddhists, to
be carried away by foreigners.' And the astrologer
shook his fat sides with laughter over his little joke.

After wakening the workmen and making certain
arrangements, this singular pair went out, and walked

272 TROUBLE AT SARANA

through the city together for some distance, until they
reached a street-crossing where they parted company ;
the goldsmith travelling with short, quick steps to
Sarana, and the astrologer to the Hall of Mystery,
where it was agreed he should await Jotthiyo's arrival
soon after midday ; and the little fat man waddled
along with many a chuckle and with a look of infinite
self-satisfaction on his countenance.

There was no doubt in Irene's mind, when she saw
where she had been brought, as to the nature of the
plot into which she had been entrapped. Even then it
was more of her father that she thought than of herself
She could now see the treachery of Alypius in her
father's departure ; and the possible peril of his position
made her, after the first outburst of indignation, careful
not to give way too much to the rage with the wicked
schemers which burned in her heart.

Alypius found that his audacity and courageous
affection, as he called it, so far from creating a favour-
able impression, as Leah had predicted, had made him
more hateful than ever. But he was not slow to dis-
cover the impression produced on her mind by the
knowledge that her father's safety was in his hands.
As Jotthiyo had overheard, she wept and sometimes
cried aloud during the first day, while little Kumari,
her fellow-prisoner, tried to comfort her. And even in
the midst of her sorrow, the sight of the myna, with his
head perked on one side, eyeing the new aspect of
things with a comic solemnity, made her burst into an
hysterical fit of laughing, followed by much sobbing,
angry with herself that she could laugh under such
circumstances.

For a prisoner, she was treated with considerable

TROUBLE AT SARANA 273

kindness by Leah, who used all her powers of persua-
sion on behalf of her colleague, without avail. And
Irene was not without hope. ' Visitors will be coming
to the shrine,' she said to herself, ' and I will make
myself heard then.'

But the day passed without the arrival of any of the
disciples of the Reconciler, an absence which Leah had
calculated upon. And now it was the second day at
Sarana, and no visitor had come save the goldsmith,
the movements of whose tools she had heard in another
room. She tried to attract his attention, but without
any result, save to bring Leah in for a moment, in a
state of great wrath ; and the goldsmith's wheel went
on hissing as if nothing had happened.

Then she found that Kumari was gone, and thought
it probable that she had been dragged away by Leah
to punish her for her cries. But the myna was left,
and again she laughed hysterically, as she watched the
absurd antics of the bird and listened to its chatter.
And still it was her hope that she could not be kept
concealed long in a place of religious resort so popular
as she understood the shrine of the Reconciler to be.

In the afternoon the Jewess came to her in good
spirits. She praised her beauty, and promised her that
£.-he should not be long detained. She gave her com-
forting words concerning Joseph, whom she declared to
be in no danger. And then she opened her jewel-case
and laid before her a wealth of precious stones which,
she said, should be Irene's if she would consent to
be the bride of Alypius. She then arrayed herself, to
Irene's amazement, in the necklace of beautiful gems
which it had been her fancy to arrange in the form and
with the colours of the rainbow. After which, with an

274 TROUBLE AT SARANA

excitement which almost amounted to frenzy, she put
on the breastplate, from which the mystic gems flashed
a splendour which had at first a dazzling effect on
Irene's eyes.

' There ! ' said the Jewess, ' I knew it. I have got
it at last. Thou art dazzled by the glory of the Urim
and Thummim. Art thou not also a child of our
people, though a Christian ? My words would seem
madness to other ears, and it may be that they do to
thine ! ' She was right there, for Irene had begun at
first to doubt her own sanity, and to think that it must
be all a strange, weird dream. Then the question sug-
gested by Leah had occurred to her.

The Jewess went on : ' Ah, if thou couldest know
how I have lived and striven for this, how I have risked
all things, life and honour ! Look on it, girl ! On the
great sapphire there ! How does it appear to thee ?
I have travelled in nearly all lands in search of these
gems. Thou hast read, or heard thy people speak, of
the breastplate which the high priests of the house of
Aaron wore in the Holy Sanctuary of Israel. It has
been told thee of the chief gem on which the glory of
the Divine revelation rested ! To find that stone has
been the great object of my ambition. I have enough
left in me of the old faith of our fathers to put that
before everything else in life, to secure the lost gem
which formed the Urim and Thummim of the sacred
breastplate. Look again, child ! How does it appear ?
Thou art not impressed by it as at first. And now, as
I look at it, it is not of that azure which one should
look for — like the blue of the heavens concentrated.
Look again, child ! Nay, there is something in the old
superstition \ it pales on account of my unworthiness !

TROUBLE AT S ARAN A 275

And so do my sins rise vip against me now, when the
great object of my life is within my grasp. I was
afraid it might be so. And now, thou beautiful child
of the Syrian, thou shalt wear it on thy breast. Rest-
ing on thy innocence, it may reveal the mystic signs ! '

Irene, half afraid of her, for she looked like a
Pythoness, fired with unnatural energies, and willing
to humour her, suffered herself to be arrayed in the
wonderful breastplate.

Anybody but Leah would have been profoundly
impressed with the beauty of the Syrian girl, as she
stood there in queenly stateliness with the great flash-
ing jewels on her breast ; but the attention of the
Jewess was altogether riveted on the stone, on which
she expected to see a display of unearthly glory. Her
eyes burned with a long look of eager intensity. This
was followed by a shade of disappointment, which gradu-
ally increased as she drew closer and closer to the stone.
Then she unfastened the breastplate, and having fiercely
wrenched away the stone, she held it up to the light.
One long look in that light, and she dashed the false
gem to the ground, with an exceeding bitter wail,
' Lost ! Lost ! Again betrayed ! '

It happened at that moment that the myna hopped
on to the table, and looking into the face of the Jewess
in its most philosophic one-sided manner, gave utter-
ance to the pertinent question, ' What can I do?' which
sent Irene into another fit of hysterical laughter, and
Leah into a boiling rage. But her anger was soon
diverted from Irene to the goldsmith, on whose devoted
head she called down the curses of the God of Israel,
and of a miscellaneous enumeration of heathen deities.
She declared that she would follow him at once and

s 2

276 TROUBLE AT SARANA

have his blood. But what should she do with Irene ?
It occurred to her then that the safest place for her,
till her return, would be the strong secret room which
the astrologer had made behind the shrine of the Recon-
ciler. There would be no visitors, she said to herself,
on such a day, and if any came while she was away
they would only be too frightened to come near, should
they hear Irene's cries.

Willing to atone for her apparent rudeness, Irene
followed the Jewess, not without suspicion, through a
narrow, secret passage to the room which she said
would be much more comfortable for her. It was not
comfortable. It looked small, and it was certainly
dark, and she was turning to protest, when the door
was closed upon her, and she heard the clanking of
heavy bars outside.

279

CHAPTER XX.

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE.

Then stand before that fact, that Life and Death
Stay there at gaze, till it dispart, dispread.
As though a star should open out, all sides,
Grow the world on you, as it is my world.

Browning's A Death in the Desert.

The Brazen Palace was the pride of Anuraclhapuran
architecture. Successive generations of royalty, after
its erection by Dutugemunu, employed their resources
on its repairs, on adding to its vast accommodation or
adorning its walls. The old chroniclers never tire of
describing the magnificence of this great structure, nor
of detailing the labour and wealth lavished on it by the
ancient kings.

And no one can walk through the avenues of stone
in the great square of granite pillars which forms one
of the most striking features in the ruins of the city,
without being impressed with the thought of the re-
ligious life of the old capital whose chief monastery
rested upon that wilderness of monoliths.

Built originally — according to the ancient historians
— in fulfilment of a prediction by Mahindo, written on
plates of gold, and from a design furnished by a heavenly
architect, it became to the pious monarchs an object of

28o AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

almost as much care and devotion as the Maha Wihara
itself, the great temple close by, whose edifices sur-
rounded the sacred Bodhi-tree.

It was also the object on the destruction of which,
in the unorthodox days of Maha Sen, the fury of the
heretic was chiefly spent, and the commencement of its
restoration was one of his first works of repentance.
And Meghawarna's chief care on ascending the throne
had been to complete the reconstruction of the mag-
nificent monastery which his father had so ruthlessly
destroyed. He had not been able to restore it to its
pristine splendour or to its original size. It was once
nine stories high. It was now only seven. Its rebuild-
ing was, at the time of which we write, a matter of
recent history. There were some old people in the city
who could compare it with the colossal building which
once stood on the same site ; but even such declared
that this was no unworthy successor, and nobody could
look on the lofty pile without seeing in it a splendid
tribute of devotion from the king to the priesthood.

It provided a thousand monks with residence, the
upper apartments being occupied, according to the
etiquette of the order, by members of the highest
' spiritual ' rank, or of the greatest renown for sanctity ;
the elevation of residence being in proportion to repu-
tation for piety.

In addition to the cells for the monks, there were
rooms which had been built for meetings of the chapter,
and for the larger assemblies of the priesthood. But
the glory of the place was the great hall of the monas-
tery, with its ivory throne, its pillars covered with gold,
and its walls resplendent with inlaid jewellery.

It was here, on the day after the great festival of

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE 281

Maliindo, that Abliayo's examination took place. The
monks of Mihintala and the community of the Brazen
Palace were in some way connected, and as Abhayo
Tliero belonged to the city almost as much as he did to
the hill fraternity, by virtue of an office given to him in
the days of royal favour, it was thought that this would
be the best place for holding the investigation, and that
it would tend to add to the importance and impressive-
ness of the occasion.

The knowledge that an assembly of such unusual
interest was being held in the great hall of the monas-
tery brought together large numbers of city idlers at an
early hour in the afternoon of the day in the vicinity of
the Brazen Palace. Among the first to come was Jantu,
who was anxious not to miss any part of the proceedings
visible to an outsider and a layman. It was not much
that was open to him ; but he could watch the arrivals
of distinguished priests, and he could have a gossip with
the crowd without; and Jantu also knew that before
the day was out there would be a stir of some kind
which would centre in that neighbourhood. He had
been waiting since the shout of refection went echoing
through the city from monastery to monastery, announc-
ing the midday meal, — after which for the rest of the
day all solid food was forbidden to the priests ; — and
he had entered into a calculation with reference to the
hundreds of bushels of rice which the priesthood of
Anuradhapura would consume in that one meal.

Under a tree near the Maha Wiliara he sat down
to eat his own food, which had been brought to him by
a slave. This simple meal of rice and curry finished,
he took out his betel-box, and having filled his mouth
with all the necessary materials for a good chew, he

282 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

passed it to some of his friends sitting near, and then
stretched himself out to think. Talking was much
more in Jantu's line than thinking, but he had been
greatly perplexed to-day in coming to find the gold-
smith's shop closed, and the goldsmith gone, nobody
could tell him where, and he wondered what it could
mean. Then he found it too hot to think, and soon fell
asleep. And when he awoke again, people were gather-
ing from all quarters, and numerous wearers of the
yellow robe were ascending the stairs to the great hall
of the Brazen Palace, and amongst them, to Jantu's
great satisfaction, Abhayo Thero ; for he — Jantu — had
been more than half afraid that he might resign and
escape the examination. Then, mingling with people
with whom he seemed to have some secret understand-
ing, who were sitting under the shade of a preaching-
hall, Jantu entered into conversation.

The heat was terrible. And it seemed to be fo-
cussed in this part of the city, where the gilded domes
and white pillars of dagobas and halls, and the metallic
roof which gave its name to the Brazen Palace, flashed
a dazzling, burning radiation on the whole neighbour-
hood like heat poured forth from mighty furnaces.

The numerous fields and gardens which added so
much to the beauty of the city were now scorched-up
and desolate. It was difficult to procure flowers for
the sacred shrines, and those that were brought were
shrivelled with the burning heat before they could be
laid on the offering tables.

All animal life was oppressed with an intolerable
heaviness. Scarcely a lizard chirped, and the dogs lay
panting for breath on the sides of the streets, with their
tongues out. Men who went abroad walked heavily

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE 283

and lazily, as if the air were loaded with a great fiery
burden. And in the houses of the people women were
leaning over gasping children and crying for the mon-
soon to come for their salvation.

Even Jantu found that until the evening came on
the heat was too great for any display of enthusiasm
on the part of the crowd slowly increasing around the
great monastery.

And a heaviness characterised the proceedings within
the hall in the earlier and more formal stages of the
investigation.

It was held according to the form instituted by
Gautama for the fortnightly examination of the priest-
hood. The chapter sat in a great circle on low cushions
on the floor of the hall. After a preliminary service, in
which two priests recited the regulations for the con-
stitution and order of the proceedings of the assembly,
one of them began the chief business of the day, the
recitation of the laws of the Order as contained in the
Book of Supreme Perfection. To Abhayo nothing
could be more familiar than the entire service. How
often had he listened to the voice of the officiating
priest ringing out the words : —

' What is the first act of this meeting ? To declare
the purity of the venerable ones. I will recite the Book
of Supreme Perfection ; let every one of us hear atten-
tively and consider it : if any one is guilty of a fault,
let him confess it ; if not guilty, he must remain silent.
I shall conclude from the silence that the venerable
ones are pure.' And he had joined his brethren in lis-
tening sleepily and carelessly to the enumeration of the
prohibitions, as one of the many forms attached to his
monastic life. There were the four great prohibitions,

284 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

the violation of which would involve expulsion, followed
by lists of numerous minor offences which would be
punished with suspension, penances, and reprimand.
He found himself wondering how he could have allowed
his life to become so mechanical, and then fell to think-
ing of the dangers which beset all religious systems
in a constant usage of unvarying forms. And now he
was listening as he had never listened before. It was
the last time he would hear the code recited, and he
was going to break the silence with which he had
hitherto taken part in this service. And now his
brethren also were listening with unusual attention, for
they knew that the solemn silence of the ' pure ones '
was to be broken by the famous monk of Mihintala.

The offences demanding expulsion were recited : —
(1) Giving way to carnal lusts. (2) Theft. (3) Murder
or aiding to murder. (4) Boastfully and wrongfully
professing to have attained the excellent perception of
perfect wisdom — the wisdom of the Arhat.

Then the reciter addressed the assembled priests :-=-
' Venerable ones, the four Parajika (exclusion offences)
have been recited. If any priest has been guilty of any
one of them, he can no longer remain associated with
the order, but becomes as he was before. He has been
overcome, and he is excluded.

' Therefore, venerable ones, I inquire, are ye pure
respecting these things ? A second time I inquire, are
ye pure respecting these things ? A third time I in-
quire, are ye pure respecting these things ? '

This was followed by a long pause, during which
all eyes were turned on Abhayo, who sat unmoved, in
perfect silence. And as they looked on him sitting
there in calm, unflinching fearlessness, the possibility

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE 285

that a great mistake in popular judgment had been
committed dawned upon them. After the pause, the
reciter went on : — ' Ye are pure, venerable ones, there-
fore ye are silent : and thus I receive it.'

Then Abhayo spoke, and claimed to be free from
all violation of the four great prohibitions. But he
could no longer be a member of the order. He was
there that day to resign his position in the brotherhood,
and he would give them liis reasons — reasons which
-they had a right to know — at the conclusion of the
service.

He was perfectly calm, and could even listen criti-
cally to the recitation of the numerous sins which a
priest might not commit. And he knew how impos-
sible it was for the brethren to observe strictly some of
the trivial prohibitions laid down in this catalogue for
their guidance, and passed by all in virtuous silence.

Then, when the recitation was finished, he drew
himself up and addressed the assembly : — ' Venerable
sirs, my lords of the Sangha ! I have already by my
silence declared my innocence of the transgressions
which have just been enumerated. But I know some-
thing of what is in your hearts, and I know that the
interpretation which you would give to some of the
clauses of our ecclesiastical code is not that which I
would give, and I freely acknowledge that according to
the popular understanding of some of those clauses I
should be condemned. And therefore have I spoken.

' It is no light thing for me to stand here and say
that I am no longer of the Buddhist faith, and that
this is my last day in the brotherhood ; to lay aside
this familiar robe will be almost like laying down my
life. All my earliest associations are connected with

2S6 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

it, and my dearest friends have worn this badge of the
sacred order. And as I take it off, I know that it will
be death to habits which have grown to be a part of
my life, and to fellowships which have been with me
from my childhood. It will take away from me old
friendships. It will probably bring upon me the fury
of popular indignation where once I received nothing
but popular favour and applause. I lay it down, and
it covers a past — in which there has been much that
was pleasant to such a nature as mine — like the cloth
which covers the face of the dead.

' As is known to this assembly, this step has not
been taken in indecent haste. It is the result of a
long and deep struggle, a terrible conflict in which
the claims of Jesus the Christ and the claims of the
Buddha have battled for the mastery ; and now I am
here to confess myself a disciple of Jesus of Nazareth.

' In all humility, conscious of the presence of so
many wise and venerable men, my seniors, and in all
honesty of conviction, I make this confession. It is
not that I have broken the laws of the Sangha, so
much as that I cannot now accept the first principles
of the faith. I cannot repeat the Saranas, nor teach
others to repeat them.

' I cannot take refuge in the Buddha, because I am
now trusting in One who is holier and mightier than
he. I said I would serve the best, the truest, and the
greatest ; and I say now before you all, if I can be
shown a greater and a better Leader and Saviour than
the Christ, I will follow him. I am thankful for the
purity and beauty which characterised much of the
Buddha's life, but it was not all pure and true ; while
the life of the Christ was like that flawless crystal.'

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE 287

And Abliayo pointed to a fine jewel wliicli sparkled in
the canopy over the ivory throne. ' And that divine
purity was maintained in the midst of all the evil of
the world ; and not by flying from the world.

' I take refuge in the Christ, because He is more
than a Leader for mankind. He is also mighty to save !
How few are there in this great city to-day, or in
the world, who trust in the Buddha alone for salvation !
What is this universal appeal to gods and demons by
those who profess to follow the Sakya prince, and this
willingness to compound with other religions, but a
universal recognition of his insufficiency as a Saviour?
I want a Saviour who is greater than the world,
greater than man, and yet one who has lived the life
of man, and can sympathize with me in my infirmities.
I also want a Saviour who can never die. And there-
fore I follow the Christ.

' And what, venerable sirs, do we know with cer-
tainty of the Buddha ? What historic evidence is there
for the stories we relate of him ? How obscure and un-
certain is all our knowledge ! Might I not with safety
challenge the entire Sangha to produce the slightest
contemporaneous evidence on behalf of the narrative
generally accepted ; evidence such as we have a right
to ask when claims are put forth to the supremacy of
the Universe and to reveal the only way of salvation ?

' In the story of the Christ we have given us
established historical facts supported by contempo-
raneous evidence. I have even seen a manuscript in
which the account of the life of that Holy One was
written by the hand of a disciple of one who knew Him
and loved Him and was in constant association with
Him. And we have the unquestioned testimony of

288 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

men who lived at the time — and who were, some of them,
enemies to the Christian faith — to corroborate the main
facts of that narrative. And because of the certainty of
the evidence I follow the Christ.

' In that life there are for me the holiest and noblest
attractions. I contrast it with the life of him who,
protesting against worldly caste, established the great
spiritual caste of the " Sangha," and made it one of the
three chief gems of the Universe. And I see in the
Highest, who lived with the lowest and most sinful
without contamination, showing how all family asso-
ciations and the humblest relations of life might be
elevated and made holy and heavenly, a truer Reformer
than the Buddha. The Buddha was a poor sinner like
myself, striving to work out his own salvation in his
own way by his own unaided powers ; and the re-
demption he gained was a joyless existence, with the
prospect of a deliverance from life. I love to think of
his great pity for all living things, and his burning
desire for the salvation of men ; but how sad it is for
us, venerable sirs, to look on that picture which has
been handed down to us in the traditions of the order,
and observe that great character in all the loneliness of
his attainments, utterly helpless and unable to save
others. In the Christ I see a joyous hope for our race,
an Almighty Saviour of men. Buddhism has brought
me to recognise the need for a regeneration which
shall come from above. And in Christ I now see that
true Regenerator of mankind. And therefore I take
refuge in the Christ, who is the " Lord from heaven."

' I can no longer take refuge in the Doctrine, the
second Sarana of the Buddhist faith, because it is the
product of the mind of inau, and not a revelation from

AT THE 'BRAZEN PALACE 289

the God of heaven, against whose purity and justice we
have sinned, and whose laws, written in our hearts, we
have transgressed. I recognise in it much that is high
and holy, Avhich has been the teaching of the conscience
of the best men in all the ages. But I find all that
and much more in the teaching of the Christ.

' I cannot take refuge in the Doctrine, because it
does not recognise the existence of Almighty God, the
Euler of the Universe, the Creator of the world, whose
existence, in the face of the indubitable proofs which
surround me in nature of the presence of a Supreme
Intelligence, it would be madness for me to deny or
ignore. And I follow the Christ because He teaches
me that that Almighty Intelligence is " Our Father."

' I cannot take refuge in the Doctrine, because it
furnishes no key to the mystery of life, because it does
not acknowledge the existence of the immortal soul in
man, without which recognition our best longings and
noblest aspirations have no foundation, and the greatest
problems of life go unexplained, and the demands of
eternal justice will go unsatisfied. I follow the Christ,
who " has brought life and immortality to light in the
Gospel."

' I cannot take refuge in the Doctrine, because of its
low /views of human life. The Buddha teaches me to
regard all life as an evil. In that way have I looked
on it. All the world has been sad to me because of
that thought. I could see no good anywhere, and no
true joy or beauty in any form of existence. All nature
was in perpetual mourning, draped in the ineffable
sorrows of the curse of life. And as I looked at it and
thought of it, day after day, I said, " And is there no
end for all this, no hope ? " And the reply of the.

290 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

Doctrine was, and is, " There is no hope for life. There
is no hope for thee except in leaving it. Live accord-
ing to the precepts, and thou slialt have deliverance
from the bondage of life." Then I asked, " What is
the hope of deliverance which the Doctrine holds out to
me ? " And the reply was, " Thou shalt cease to be.
Nirvana shall be thine at last ! " And I felt that to be
a deliverance which I could not desire, and against which
my soul protested. There was no hope in the Doctrine.

' The Christ has taught me that life may be en-
nobled, that although there is in it much of evil and
sorrow, the evil may be cleansed away and the sorrow
turned into joy. And to me, now, life has a different
meaning from what it had. I can see how it can be
made a glad and glorious thing, and how I may comfort
and gladden the lives of others. The prospect on
which I look now is one of exceeding hopefulness for
myself and for humanity, capabilities of a life of blessing
and blessedness here, and hereafter a " heaven in which
dwelleth righteousness."

' I cannot take refuge in the Doctrine, because it
would teach me to destroy the holiest affections and
noblest desires of the soul, to trample on the ties of
family life and all earthly fellowships. I have had
affections which I have tried to kill, in obedience to the
Doctrine. I have been conscious that in those affec-
tions there was nothing unholy, and that consciousness
has striven with the teaching which told me that they
were dragging me down to perdition. The Christ has
taught me to see that these affections may be leavened
and kept pure with the love of the Holy God, and that
they may thus be amongst the most blessed and ele-
vating influences in life.

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE 291

' I cannot take refuge in the Doctrinej because its
tendency is contrary to that upward spirit of progress
which should characterise the movements of men. Be-
cause in its low views of the life that now is, and in its
gloomy prospects for the future, it is a discouragement to
civilisation. And now I follow the Christ, who is at the
head of the true regeneration and civilisation of man-
kind.

' I cannot take refuge in the Sangha. Venerable
sirs, I have lived among you all my life. I have been
one of you. And now it would ill become me to speak
in other than words of gratitude for the kindness which
I have received at your hands, and for the tolerance
extended to me by you. Neither would it be becoming
in me to point out the flaws in the " gem " of the priest-
hood. Are they not known to us all ? Have we not
often asked ourselves, " Are we worthy of a place in the
three Saranas ? " And I remember that I have been in
my measure responsible for the sins of the Order, and
therefore I will speak freely of that which is not per-
sonal. I cannot take refuge in the Order, because its
daily life is inconsistent with the Doctrine. Because it
absorbs the wealth of the land and oppresses the poor.
Because it will strain the water, lest the smallest and
meanest insect should lose its life, while its guilt and
neglect are the ruin of thousands of human beings.
Because it is a great priestly caste, to which it would
have all men enslaved, and outside which, according to
its teaching, there is no salvation.

' This day I renounce it, because the Light of Life
is filling my eyes, and now I can see that Jesus only is
the Way ; that the " eight-fold path " leads through
Him who is " the Way, the Truth, and the Life." And

T 2

292 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

I can see that the man who drives the plough, and the
woman who sits at the loom, and — strange as it may
sound in your ears — the little children at play, may live
as holy a life and be as acceptable before God as any
priest of any religion on the face of the earth.

' Christ is my Priest. He died for me, and He is now
my ever-living Friend. It is not simply a doctrine
which I have embraced in accepting this faith. It is a
life. I thank you for the patience with which you have
heard me. It has cost me much to say it, but I felt
that it was my duty not to shrink from bearing this
witness for the true Saviour of men here this day. You
cannot know with what intensity I have resisted these
convictions which have been slowly gaining upon me,
nor how terrible has been the conflict between the old
faith and the new. But Jesus of Nazareth has triumphed
at last, and now I follow the Christ ! '

It must not be imagined that Abhayo was able to
say all this without interruption. Again and again
there were cries of dissent, and many wondered at their
own tolerance in allowing such things to be said ; but
there was that in the man and his speech which made
him heedless of everything but the duty before him, and
which compelled them to listen to the message he had
to deliver.

They felt too that this was not the man to steal a
gem. And it was with some shame that the matter was
introduced. And the burst of honest indignation and
surprise with which the charge was received by Abhayo
made them wish they had never mentioned it. They
said that, as he had not confessed to it in the regular
way in the course of the service, they thought it right
to tell him that all the city believed him to be the guilty

AT THE BRAZEN PALACE 293

man, and that the people charged the delay of the mon-
soon to his wickedness.

And as they spoke there were sounds from without
which indicated the impatience of the crowd ; for by
this time large numbers had gathered to await the con-
clusion of the examination, and there were mutterings
amongst them which predicted the rising of a tempest.
' It all comes of thinking for himself,' said Jantu.
' Why doesn't he think as other people do ? And why
did he take the gem ? '

' That is what we want to know, and we want to
know where it is. And know we will, if we can get
him disrobed,' said several voices in the crowd.

' And there he is ! ' cried Jantu, as Abhayo appeared
in loose white garments on the stairs at the entrance to
the hall. ' Close around, and we will soon make him
tell where it is ! '

The priests begged him to return to the safety of
the hall, when they saw the fierce looks of the angry
mob.

Abhayo stood for a moment like a man in a dream.
It was all so strange to be there in that unfamiliar
costume and without the sacred robe. And what
could the crowd mean by pressing towards him with
threatening looks and gestures ? And then, as men
will often be impressed with little and unimportant
things in moments of a great crisis, his attention was
caught by the appearance of a man with one eye, stand-
ing on the outskirts of the crowd and watching the
proceedings with a wicked, cynical delight ; for Jotthiyo
was there, thinking that this would be as safe a place
as any, and that he would like to see how things were
going in this direction.

294 AT THE BRAZEN PALACE

The crowd came nearer and nearer. There was then
a mighty rush. Abhayo stood with folded arms to
receive the shock.

They closed around him crying, — ' To the ordeal !
To the ordeal under the Sacred Tree! The Good
Serpent will tell us whether he is guilty or not ! '

And Abhayo saw that to resist, even with his
strength, was useless.

Some of the priests protested, but the majority of
them thought it better to make no opposition to the
popular appeal to the decision of the serpent.

295

CHAPTER XXI.

THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT.

On this occasion innumerable dewos and nagas assembled at this
place, saying, ' Let us witness the contest between these two parties,
the snakes and the There' — TuENOUR's Mahawanso.

The ordeal to wliicli Abliayo was being brought at the
close of our last chapter was probably a survival of the
serpent- worship which Buddhism had jDrofessed to have
replaced, but which it had rather assimilated by the
encouragement given in both doctrine and legend. In
this power of adaptation and assimilation may be found
,the secret of much of the success which, in the days of
old, attended the propagation of the Buddhist faith.

The ordeal is not practised now, but a thousand
superstitious and popular customs show that the
religions of the ancient serpent and demon worshippers
of Ceylon are nearer the heart of the people still than
the teachings of Gautama.

In the midst of the howling multitude, Abhayo
walked calmly, but conscious of the horror which
awaited him under the Bodhi-Tree.

Through the nearest gateway the crowd struggled
and pressed, and, thronging the galleries which sur-
rounded it, they lifted their hands in adoration of the
tree. And thrice they made the place ring with shouts

296 THE APPEAL TO THE SERPEN!

in honour of ' the Naga, the divine cobra, the guardian
of the holy gems.'

The Naga had been provided by Kapurauda the
astrologer, who had secured for this purpose the most
deadly of its kind, and he had had little difficulty in
making the credulous Jantu and others believe that it
was a descendant of that serpent from whose head the
lost gem had originally come.

There on the Bhodimanda * (the highest platform
surrounding the tree) an earthenware pot rested, on
which all eyes were ga/ing, and before which some of
the people were bowing in worship.

Abhayo looked at it, and as he looked and thought
of its ghastly, deadly inhabitant, his blood ran cold.
He could meet an open enemy. He felt that he could
stand before the most venomous and most dangerous
brutes of the forest, but this invisible horror made his
flesh creep and took away his breath.

' Pat in your hand ! ' shouted the crowd. ' If the
good serpent bites, you will deserve the death ; if not,
you are innocent. In with the hand ! '

Abhayo looked at the simple earthenware pot, which
seemed to him to conceal a living hell, into which he
was expected to plunge his hand through the thin leaf
tied over the mouth of the vessel.

Then he looked at the faces around him, and saw
that no appeal would be listened to, no justification
would be heard. And looking at the determined faces
around him made Abhayo calm again, as opposition
always did, and took away the terror of the thing lying
there concealed, waiting for the plunge of his hand.

* So called from its correspondence to the throne which Gautama
occupied when he attained Buddhaship under the Bo.

THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT 297

He called for attention, and cried : ' It is a dreadful
death to die for an innocent man.'

' If thou art innocent, thou wilt not die. The good
serpent will not bite,' they shouted.

Abhayo went on : ' I will not willingly submit to
this ordeal. It would be sin against the good God in
whom I believe, who made heaven and earth. He is
my Judge, and not that loathsome, poisonous reptile.'

' Then we must force thee ! ' replied the crowd,
headed by Jantu and Jotthiyo.

Their numbers overpowered him. They were drag-
ging him to the ordeal, when they were suddenly
arrested by the apparition of a beautiful woman, who,
springing to the Bhodimanda, lifted the fatal vessel
above her head, and in tones of passionate entreaty im-
plored the infuriated mob to listen to what she had to say.

To the multitude, as they looked in their amaze-
ment on that magnificent figure, bearing in her uplifted
hands the horrible tribunal, while the white drapery of
her robes falling, left her rounded arms bare, — to the
mass of the people it seemed nothing less than the in-
tervention of a goddess from one of the heavens.

Let us now go back a little, to see what led to the
appearance of Anula, for it was she, at such a time in
so singular a manner.

It will perhaps be remembered that Irene's little
Sinhalese maid, Kumari, managed to pass out of the
room unobserved on the entrance of Leah, who was
afraid lest the cries of her fair captive would attract
the attention of the goldsmith working in another part
of the house.

Leah had not missed the child until she had shut

298 THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT

Irene in tlie secret chamber behind the shrine of the
Reconciler. And although it vexed her to find that
the girl had gone, it was a matter of little importance
compared with the great trouble of which her mind
was so full just then. She would go to the astrologer
and secure his help, she said, before she went in search
of the goldsmith ; and if there was any likelihood of
delay in finding him, she would return at once to
Sarana from the astrologer's and release Irene, for it
was certain that she could not be kept long in such
durance. It was possible, too, that she would find
Alypius with Kapuranda, and both of them would
probably assist her in recovering the sapphire from
Jotthiyo. Such were her thoughts as she made her
way to the astrologer's residence.

But Kumari's escape was not so unimportant a
thing as it seemed. It was one of those little things
on which events of great magnitude will sometimes
turn. The little maiden was sharp and intelligent,
as such Sinhalese maidens are now, and once in the
open street she managed, by dint of numerous inquiries,
though in a part of the city of which she had no know-
ledge, to find her way to her destination. For her
destination was to reach Anula, whom she knew to be
with the sisters of the faith in the nunnery.

Anula was congratulating herself that the final step
which would decide the course of her life, and separate
her from distracting associations and afifections, was
so near at hand. The conquest had been difficult, and
was not complete. There were still lingering doubts
in her mind, and the knowledge which she already had
of the lives of many of the sisters did not tend to allay
those doubts ; but she had determined not to be in-

THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT 299

fluenced by such. She would rather look for example
to such characters as Yasodhara, the wife of the Buddha,
and Sanghamitta, the sister of Mahiudo, and others of
the holiest women in the history of their faith.

But the victory was a sad one, and questioning in
her mind, as might a general who has conquered in the
fight when looking on his slain friends and comrades,
' Is it worth such sacrifice ? ' and then thinking it sin
to entertain such a thought for a moment, she sat in
the shade of the great rock in the garden attached to
the nunnery, meditating.

It was while she was there, thinking of her self-
conquest, that word was brought of a Sinhalese maid
who had come in great excitement wanting to see the
lady Anula immediately.

On listening to Kumari's story, given breathlessly
and incoherently, she was not long in deciding that she
would go to the rescue of her friend. She decided first
by instinct, woman-like, and then backed it up with
reasons afterwards as she walked rapidly along the hot
streets escorted only by the Sinhalese girl. She tried
to persuade herself that it needed this act on behalf of
her Syrian friend to complete the annihilation of the
great affection which had hitherto been the chief hin-
drance to the realisation of her ideal of holiness ; for
she had little doubt that the love of Irene had conquered
the man and the priest in Abhayo, and influenced him
in favour of Christianity.

She was so absorbed in these thoughts that she
scarcely noticed the people gradually filling the streets
as the day advanced, and she would perhaps have
passed without recognition even so striking a figure
as that of Joseph the Syrian, whom they met on the

300 THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT

way, had it not been for the ejaculations of surprise
and delight which came from Kumari, whose delight
was increased by seeing with Joseph her uncle, Kiri
Banda.

Rapid explanations followed, in which both parties
had much to say about the wicked treachery of the
Reconcilers, and both parties were speedily walking
together with quick steps towards Sarana. And as
they walked Joseph told Anula his story, of how the
men in charge of the vessel delayed his landing, and
finally set him on a desolate shore at a great distance
from the pearl fishery, where he would probably have
died but for the help given by friendly natives, who,
induced by promises of much reward, brought him to
the fishery, whence he managed to secure a boat for
Mahatotai. It was on his way from the latter place
to Anuradhapura that he met Kiri Banda, who brought
a letter which Alypius had declared to be of urgent im-
portance. He also told her of revelations which had
been made to him by Kiri Banda concerning the lost
gem which had been intended for the eye of the new
idol, and of the suspicions which had been designedly
cast on Abhayo.

All this helped to make the walk through the city
an exciting and eventful one for Anula. But it was to
be much more eventful yet. On their way they had to
pass near the Maha Wihara and the enclosure of the
Sacred Bo, which they reached just as Abhayo was being
brought to the ordeal. They were told of what was
taking place. They saw the infuriated mob moving in
the galleries around the tree above them ; they heard
their wild cries about the theft of the jewel, the anger
of the gods and the cobra, who was to arbitrate. There

THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT 301

were men closing around him armed with long sword-
like knives, who were going to force him to the awful
test. Anula took in Abhayo's danger at a glance. There
was not a moment's hesitation on her part. If she had
paused to think about it, she would probably not have
done so extraordinary a thing. Before Joseph could do
anything to prevent her, she had gone in by another
entrance, broken through the crowd where it was thin-
nest, and was soon standing, as we have seen, on the
highest platform with the vessel of the ordeal in her
uplifted hands.

The crowd drew back in the utmost astonishment.
Nothiug could have been more unexpected in such a
place at such a time. The priests were greatly scanda-
lised. Abhayo was at first more inclined than ever to
imagine himself in a dream. Anula, without saying a
word to him, called on the people to desist, crying out
that she had something of the very greatest importance
to say to them. Then briefly and passionately, while
they were hesitating, not knowing what to make of such
an appearance, she unfolded the story she had just heard
from Joseph of the guilt of the Reconcilers, not doubt-
ing its truth, and speaking in tones which carried con-
viction, or, at least, doubt with regard to the charges
against Abhayo, to those within the reach of her voice.

Jantu was thunderstruck. If it had been Menika
herself, he could not have felt more powerless to urge
on the attack on Abhayo than he felt now under the
influence of the appeal from this wonderful woman.
Her beauty was increased by the excitement ten-fold.
She was dressed in the white garments usually worn
when one has taken the vows of ' Sil,' and her whole
appearance presented a grace and majesty which awed

302 THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT

the multitude. Her eyes blazed with indignation as
she spoke of the injustice they were doing to an inno-
cent man, and denounced the iniquity of the wrong-
doers.

Her hands trembled for a moment with the passion
which inspired her. The great jar fell on the stone
parapet, and out of a thousand fragments there sprang
the hissing, hooded death !

The mob drew back in consternation and alarm.
They trampled on each other. And those who could
get away fled, for none would dare to lift his hand
against the sacred serpent. They shrieked in their
terror, and amidst the frightened cries there was one
cry of real pain, which came from the goldsmith Jotthiyo,
who was near the wall striving to cleave his way through
the crowd and make his escape.

It was some time before quiet and confidence were
restored, and not until assurance was given that the
cobra had retired into one of the numerous crevices
formed by the roots of the Bo.

At last Jantu spoke : ' It is the lady who came with
the princess and the holy tooth-relic. She has a right
to be heard. The women are greater than we think.'
(Here Kiri Banda gave a loud cough.) ' Who was it
that brought the conquering tree of wisdom to Ceylon ?
It was a woman. And was it not a woman who brought
us the last great treasure which was once in the lotus-
like mouth of the Blessed One, who gave us the
precious gem of the Doctrine ? And it may be that a
woman has been sent to us again now, to help us to
recover the glorious jewel designed for the new statue.
If the priest is innocent, we will let him go. He will
meet with his reward fast enough. Men who go about

THE APPEAL TO THE SERPENT 303

thinking for themselves, like lie does, are sure to come
to trouble sooner or later. But let us go noAV to Sarana
to see if these things be true, and take the Thero with
us. We will have the ordeal yet, if this information
should prove false.' And Jantu looked around on the
crowd with an air of great sagacity and importance, at
this sudden development of a public character within
himself

A priest came forward to remonstrate, and suggested
that a small deputation should be sent, headed by one of
the order, intimating that if they went in a mob they
would be repulsed by the soldiery. But a great shout
went up from the people : ' To Sarana ! to the Kecon-
cilers ! ' and immediately they began to move away.
And, without speaking a word to Abhayo, Anula, now
overwhelmed with conflicting feelings, rushed to the
side of Joseph.

304

CHAPTER XXII.

THE MONSOOX COMES.

. . . But tilas 1
Men breathe forth passions which fall back in blights
And stormy desolations, that defile
The sky-born streams, and flood life's fields with woe.

Bailey's Fcstus.

80 absorbed bad tbey all been in what was taking
place under tbe famous tree, that no attention had
been paid to the sudden change in the air about them
and in the sky above. In the galleries about the Bo
all was agitation ; but all over the rest of the city a
heavy stillness had settled, and the hot air was suddenly
cooled. A sensation of awe seemed for the moment to
silence all animal life, as it is said is sometimes the
case in the hour before a dread battle. The lizards
crept into the innermost recesses of deserted ant-hills ;
the frightened birds sought the thickest shelter they
could find in the trees. The dogs wriggled their way
noiselessly into such houses as would receive them.
Men in the streets became solemnly glad as the skies
rapidly darkened, and said to one another : ' It is
come at last ! ' And the women left their gasping
children to look out of doors, and returned whispering
the tidings of approaching blessing : ' The monsoon is
coming ! '

THE MONSOON COMES 305

On the great thunderclouds came, until the heavens
were filled with their blackness. Then, just as the
multitude was moving away from the sacred tree, out
of the black cloud-masses a stream of flame seemed to
leap into the very heart of the city and fill the great
square with fire. The roof of the Brazen Palace blazed
like a sheet of flame, and the crystal on the Ruwanweli
tope looked like a ball of fiery illumination. It was
but for a moment. Then the air was filled with the
crash of thunder, as if all the dagobas in the city had
fallen.

The crowd paused, holding their breath. Anula,
who had but just braved so courageously the enraged
mob, clung to Joseph for support. Then Jantu cried :
' Friends, the monsoon is come ! the gods are with us !
Let us away to Sarana ! '

With a wild shout they ran, and as they ran the
floods came.

While they are on their way let us look in at
Khanda Raja, the residence of the astrologer. That
worthy has just bowed Leah out of the Hall of Mystery,
having succeeded in persuading, or half-persuading her
of his own devotion to her cause, and of his ability to
lay his hand at any moment on Jotthiyo. A young
Sinhalese man, who has been in concealment on the
premises during the interview, is now admitted into
the hall. He was the prince's pupil, a relative of the
astrologer, who had been in hiding for some time, and
in constant fear lest his part in obtaining the gem for
the Reconciler should be discovered.

Kapuranda threw himself on a mat, and gave way
to the enjoyment of a long series of chuckles.

' He ! he ! he ! success at last ! The game is won,

3o6 THE MONSOON COMES

and I hold tlie prize ! It has gone off admirably !
That Thero will have met with his doom by this time.
The cleverest woman in the world, the Jewess, must
now own me master in her own arts. And I have dis-
posed of Jotthiyo ! And a man who can cheat a gold-
smith is no fool ! '

' No, indeed ! But what have you done with Jot-
thiyo ? ' inquired the young man.

' Ha ! ha ! he will be far enough from Anuradha-
pura to-night, and for many nights to come ; though I
have asked him to come here to-morrow. I told him
they would be sure to search for him at once. He
acknowledged that they would. And at last I got him
to see that the safest place for the precious stone just
now is the Hall of Mystery. He thinks he will come
to-morrow ; but I think he will not. No, not for many
morrows ! It is his purpose, if the way is clear, to carry
the great jewel to Mahatotai, where he is going to
make a bargain with some foreigners, which he says
will enrich us both beyond all our dreams of wealth.
" Us both," indeed ! How much should I see of that
wealth ? The cunning rascal ! He knows how pious
I am. And he made me swear by all the gods, and by
the sacred Bo, that I would not deceive him, nor let
the resplendent gem go out of my sight till his return.
He ! he ! Trust old Kapuranda for that ! Let us look
at it now ! I must not let it go out of my sight, you
know.'

He brought out a parcel, which he seemed to handle
tenderly and affectionately, chuckling all the while ;
and, undoing numerous folds of wrapping, he held the
big crystal up, to catch the light coming in at the little
window of carved wood.

THE MONSOON COMES 307

' It is getting dark,' he said : ' the air is cool ; the
sky is covered with cloud ; the monsoon must be at
hand. That wicked Thero has met with his just
punishment, he ! he ! The gods are satisfied, and are
letting the rains come ! But the jewel does not look
quite what it did, and what it should. It must be the
want of light. And yet '

Just then the lightning flash of which we have
already spoken poured its vivid illumination into every
house in the city, Kapuranda fell back as if struck by
it. But it was not the lightning which had so suddenly
paralysed him. For a time he was speechless, and
groaned heavily, to the consternation of his young
relative. Then he said : ' 1 have lost it after all ! He
made a second substitute ! ' And he flung the mock gem
across the room. There we will leave him groaning in
his disappointment and defeat.

On returning to Sarana, Leah's first thought was
to look to the safety of her jewels. ' I have been
deceived so terribly that I cannot be too careful,'
she said to herself. It was her intention to let Irene
go, after she had seen to the jewels. But, on approach-
ing the strong box in which she kept her precious case,
her quick eye discerned at once that it had been
tampered with, though it looked much as when she left
it. Breathlessly, she tried the secret springs. The lid
flew open, the case was gone ! Another had known her
secret, and availed himself of it ! Leah sank down
before the rifled box, stunned with the treachery which
had bereft her of the things she valued most in the
world.

There she sat, holding her head in both her hands,
as if she were afraid it would burst with the agonies of

V 2

3o8 THE MONSOON COMES

her great loss. Nor did slie heed the lightning flash,
the roar of the thunder, or the torrents of rain streaming
down into the gardens outside. Nor did she heed the
thud and splash of human feet which now and then
might be heard at intervals in the storm, for they
seemed no concern of hers.

Nothing interested her but the terrible, bitter
sorrow which now filled her life. Nearer and louder
came the thud and the splash. The lightnings flashed
ever and anon, and the thunders of the monsoon rolled
over the city ; and she could hear in the midst of it all,
coming nearer and nearer, shouts as of anger, which
seemed to rise from a multitude of human voices, and
she heeded them not, for all that was dear to her was
gone. The jewels had been to her like living things,
to which she had given all her love.

Nearer and nearer came the sound of the voices and
the feet, until at last they entered Sarana. She heard
cries about a sapphire ! Then her interest was aroused,
and she listened eagerly. But her hopes were dashed
when she discovered that they had come to seek the lost
jewel. And as she listened it became clear that the
secret of her iniquity was in the hands of the mob now
crowding in to the shrine of the Reconciler.

The room in which she was sitting was not very
accessible. But she could not escape without attracting
attention. She heard the people shouting for the
Reconciler. They wanted to see the Reconciler. She
heard the voice of Kiri Banda and the calls of Irene,
followed by the moving and creaking of the woodwork
separating the shrine from the secret chamber. Then
there were cries of great joy in a language familiar to
her, the tongue of her childhood, as father and daughter

THE MONSOON COMES 309

were locked in eacli other's arms. She heard the people
comment on the beauty of this Reconciler, as they called
Irene.

There was a loud laugh, too, at the appearance of the
myna, who had flown to Kiri Banda's head, from which
perch this bird of wisdom poured forth repetitions of
the profound interrogation : ' No refuge. What can I
do?'

Then she heard them go into the secret chamber,
searching for the gem, and examining the contrivances
which Kapuranda had made for the perfecting of their
impostures. Baffled there, she heard them cry : ' Where
is the Jewess ? We must have the Jewess ! '

Then the instinct of self-preservation rose within her.
She would try to preserve her life, if it was only for
revenge. Throwing off such robes as might interfere
with her escape, she made a rush out of the room to a
side-door, and was soon in the garden without. Her
flight was speedily discovered, and Jantu with many
others were running after her. She managed to elude
their pursuit at first, and gained upon them considerably
by taking to unfrequented streets.

The thunders of the monsoon were becoming less and
less loud. But the rain still fell in torrents, and the
water swirled and eddied in the narrow streets through
which she ran. She was still in advance of her pur-
suers ; occasionally she had lost sight of them, through
the delays caused by doubts at the cross-streets. Once
they turned in an opposite direction to that which she
had come, and this gave her time, and enabled her to
recover her breath while she crouched for a few moments
in an open preaching hall at a street corner. How she
blessed the monsoon which had driven the people into

310 THE MONSOON COMES

their houses, and caused the streets to be deserted by
nearly all but herself and her pursuers !

And now they were gaining upon her. She heard
the splashing of many feet and heard them calling on
any who might hear to stop her. On they came with
their long black hair streaming down over their
backs, with their garments gathered up about their
loins, that they might run more swiftly. They were
getting nearer every moment, and she was so wet and
so tired !

Then the darkness of the evening befriended her.
She made another turn into another street, and felt that
this must be her last. She could hear her pursuers in
the distance. She Avas not sure, but now they appeared
to have gone in another direction. She found herself
at last before a familiar-looking building which she
could not have seen, so dark was the evening, had she
not come close to it. Even then the building called up
associations in her mind of the old days of long ago.
And she said : ' This is the church of the Christians,
where they will always give sanctuary to those who
want refuge.' All this flashed through her mind in a
moment as she stood there in the pouring rain.

The door was open, there was a glimmering light
within. She rushed in, and would have fallen faint and
giddy on the floor, but for the quick support of a man's
hand. The hand was scorched and livid. She could
see that even then, in the light of the brass lamp which
stood on the reading-desk ; and she noticed the great
Hebrew letters on the wall behind the lamp, and she
read out the syllables as if she were in a dream. And
a voice, which seemed to come out of a distant past — it
was to her like the voice of the dead — said : ' Yes, it is

THE MONSOON COMES 311

the house of God. None are turned away from this
Refuge ! ' There was a flash of recognition in the eyes
of both. Her brain reeled, and she sank unconscious
into the arms of Thomas, who had come into the little
church, as was his wont, for evening prayer.

312

CHAPTER XXIII.

AFTER THE MONSOON.

The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlast-
ing arms. — Deuteronomy xxxiii. 27.

The burst of the monsoon was succeeded by a few dry
days of pleasant and beautiful calm. The drought had
come to an end, and the pestilence was stayed. A new
life had taken possession of the city gardens and fields,
and the weather was delightfully cool.

Irene was moving about in the little garden of the
quadrangle, rejoicing in the fact of being at home
again. And home was all the dearer because of their
late experiences. The garden had revived with wonder-
ful rapidity under the influence of the monsoon rains,
but it had been wofully neglected during the absence
of the young mistress of the house. Every now and
then Irene would hold up a big weed or a decayed
plant, and shake it playfully at Thomas, who sat in
the inner verandah looking on the garden with an ex-
pression of penitence for his neglect which was half
comical and half serious.

The little garden seemed full of life. In the midst
of the wild profusion in which the flowers had been
allowed to grow, Anula and Kumari were as busy as
Irene, occasionally assisted by Joseph, in reducing the

AFTER THE MONSOON 313

wilderness to something like order. And there in the
overhanging branches flitted the myna, chattering its
phrases in its old inconsequent, solemnly humorous
fashion.

' Sing, child ! sing as you work ! ' said Joseph to his
daughter. ' Leah wishes to hear you sing ! The cool
morning hour will soon be gone.'

And singing a sweefc Greek melody or one of the
Psalms, she brought back the wayward vine of a
passion-flower, fastening it to the trellis, as when we
saw her first. Nor was the picture less beautiful than
when we first saw the Syrian girl in the midst of her
flowers.

Anula looked deeply thoughtful as she worked
under the direction of her friend. The flowers and the
singing were not engrossing all her thoughts.

She had said to Irene when they arrived at home
on the night of the monsoon — for they always talked
of that eventful time as ' the day ' or ' the night of the
monsoon ' : ' It is of no use resisting any longer, dear
friend ! Now, like Ruth in the sweet story your father
told us, I say, " Thy people shall be my people, and
thy God my God ! " ' And all the pent-up emotion in
Anula's heart seemed to be liberated as she threw
herself in this covenant of love on the neck of her
friend.

Irene's joy at this declaration was unbounded ; but
after a while she had replied: 'It shall be so, dear!
Our home shall be thy home until Boaz claims thee ! '
And Anula knew that she spoke of Abhayo, and knew
that her friend was not her rival.

We have been looking on the garden and its
workers. Now let us turn to the verandah. There,

314 AFTER THE MONSOON

lying on a couch, was Leali the Jewess. She was sick,
sick unto death. The agitating experiences of that
eventful day and night seemed to bring a hidden
disease to the surface, and with it there came a fever
which no remedy but the touch of death could
allay.

Her proud, wicked heart had melted at last. And in
place of the ' heart of stone ' there was now the ' heart
of flesh ! ' Thomas was nearly always by her side, nor
could he do enough to satisfy himself in attending
to her comfort. And after some loving and gentle
attention, she would lay hold of his burnt hand
and cover it Avith kisses and tears. Nor would she
let him keep it out of sight, as had been his custom
aforetime.

She would say that Thomas's love and forgiveness
were helping her to understand the mighty pity of the
great God, and the compassion of Jesus Christ. Her
position was at the feet of the Redeemer with the poor
woman who had sinned greatly and been forgiven
much. She had no desire for the recovery of the lost
jewels, except when she thought of how little was the
service which she could now lay at the feet of Christ
the Messiah.

The great sapphire had been found on the dead
body of Jotthiyo, the goldsmith ; and the ' serpent
ordeal ' had become more popular than ever, when it
was discovered that the goldsmith had died from the
bite of the cobra. And the people were looking forward
with delight to the dedication of the new image of the
Buddha.

The recovery of the gem had made it unnecessary
to make further search for Leah. As to Sarana, the

AFTER THE MONSOON 315

royal and priestly disciples of the Reconciler were not
sorry to let the impostors escape. They were not jDroud
of their connection with that popular shrine. But there
were large numbers of people who, in spite of the
exposure of the frauds passed on them, and the flight
of the arch-deceiver, still believed in both the Re-
conciler and Leah. And it was not long before a shrine
similar to Sarana was established elsewhere for their
benefit.

Of Alypius nothing had been heard except that
he had been seen hurrying, in the pouring rain of the
monsoon-burst, through a street leading towards one
of the wooden bridges which crossed the river. And
as the bridge had been carried away by the ti'emendous
torrent which had come with the floods, it was thought
possible that the Greek had been borne away with
it. When he was seen he had looked — so it was said
— as if he were carrying something heavy under his
cloak.

Leah seldom spoke of her late colleagues during
her sickness. Her husband, to whom she had been so
strangely reunited, knew all her sad, wicked story, and
all had been forgiven. And now, notwithstanding great
weakness, pain, and fever, she felt, as she listened to
Irene's singing, that she had at last reached the truest
and best refuge after all her wanderings.

Next to her husband she became most deeply
attached to Irene. She said that she had sinned against
her grievously. But of that the Syrian girl would not
hear, and she surrounded the poor suffering penitent
with sweet observances.

Sometimes Leah talked of a desire to live, that she
might atone for some of the wickedness of her past life.

3i6 AFTER THE MONSOON

And then again she woukl say : ' How sweet is such a
life as this, and oh, how short ! ' And on the morning
of which we write she told Thomas that she had
prayed to be spared to the next Sabbath. For on
that day, the Lord's Day, Abhayo and Anula had
determined to make public confession of their faith in
Christ.

The Sabbath came. Leah was still living, but she
was sure, she told her friends, that this would be her
last day on earth. And she implored them to grant
her one last request. It was that she might be carried
on the couch into the little church, to be present at the
holy service. With much reluctance the request was
acceded to.

Abhayo and Anula stood before the congregation,
and declared that they had taken refuge in ' God the
Father Almighty and in Jesus Christ His only Son.'
And in the name of the Holy Trinity they were
baptised.

The congregation then sang the forty-sixth Psalm,
beginning with, ' God is our refuge and strength, a very
present help in trouble,' and ending with the words of
blessed promise and assurance : ' Be still, and know that
I am God. I will be exalted among the heathen, I will
be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us,
the God of Jacob is our refuge.'

And the dying woman heard the voice that she had
learnt to love so well, the voice of Irene, rising clear and
sweet above all the voices in the congregation ; and
she felt the mighty comfort of refuge in the Eternal
God.

At the close of the service it was decided that Leah
was too weak to be carried back into the house. And

AFTER THE MONSOON 317

there, in the church, she remained, in the midst of
gentle, loving ministrations, to die.

When the day drew near to its close, and the hour
for evening prayer was at hand, Leah's friends were all
gathered about her couch. She wanted to see them all,
she said.

She talked with difficulty, but she said something
about Sarana and jewels. Thomas quoted from the
words of the ' blessing of Moses, the man of God ' :
' Let thy Urim and Thummim be with the Holy
One!'

Faintly she replied : ' Yes, the Urim and Thummim
at last — none can take it aiuay noiv — ivith the Holy One
— with the Holy One ! ' And, taking the burnt hand of
her husband, she placed it on her head, where it rested
as in loving benediction, while her soul passed away
from a life of storms into the quiet and assurance of the
Eternal Refuge.

Within the church, it was a Sabbath peace, empha-
sised by Death. Without, immense processions were
marching through the streets of the city. The bands
were playing, and multitudes were shouting the three
Saranas of Refuge, in the Buddha, the Doctrine, and the
Order. It was the night of the dedication of the new

Buddha.

******

As soon as arrangements could be made to supply
his place, Thomas went to India as a missionary amongst
the Damilos, and he was accompanied by Abhayo and
his wife Anula.

Joseph and Irene remained in Anuradhapura. And
they were frequently cheered with news from, or of,
their dear friends on the continent. Thev were told

3i8 AFTER THE MONSOON

that the people amongst whom Thomas lived and
laboured loved him so greatly, and esteemed the true
piety of his character so highly, that they were accus-
tomed to say it was as if one of the holy apostles of
Christ lived in their midst.

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English Pictures. Drawn with Pen and Pencil. By Samuel
Manning, ll.i>., and S. G. Gbben, d.d. With Coloured Frontispiece and
numerous Wood Engravings. 8s. handsome ch)th, or 26s. in morocco.
" Xext to seeing the beautiful places of the eairh comeB the delight of readiner of them : and

many a one who ie doomed to begrin and end his days within a ' cribbed, cabined, and confined *

circle, can roam, guided by such a V)ook. at the will of fancy, through sunny glades, by babbling

streams, or over the breezy mcmrlandB."— 77

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Canadian Pictures.

Ten and Pencil. By

LoBNE. With numerous fine engravings
by E. VVhymper, from Sketches by the
Marquis of Lome, Sydney Hall, and others.
Ss. eitra cloth boards gilt; or ii.iB. bound in
raorocco elegant.
"Most interesting — an extremely pleasant
book." — .S'ai«7-(/a?y Hefieiv.

Australian Pictures. Drawn with

Pen and Pencil. By Howard Wii.LouiiHBY,
of the •■ Melbourne .\rgu8.'' With a large
Maj) and Illustrations from Photographs
and Sketches, engraved by E. Whymper
and others. Imperial 8vo, 88., handsome
cloth, gilt edges ; 2,is. morocco elegant.
" These pictures are real, vivid, and Ufe-like.
They are written by a man who belongs to the
scenes and the people. The book, therefore,
will be a fitting memorial to tourists of what
they have seen , and wil 1 at the same time be in-
structive to untravelled people. "-.4 untraianian.

Indian Pictiires. Drawn with Pen

and Pencil. By the Rev. William Vk-

wicK. M..\. Profusely Illustrated. Ss., in

handsome cloth gilt ; 2hn. raorocco.

" The Society, in all their excellent series of

Pictures' (which now has included no incon-

suierable part of the world), lias not given to

the public a better executed or more interesting

volume than this. — Spectator

3 li -, CO

3 S* 9o M

Sea Pictures. By Dr. Macaii.ay,
Editor of the Leisure Hour, &c. Contain-
ing the Sea in Poetry, Physical Geography
of the Sea, the .Sea in Histxiry, and the
Harvest of the Sea. 8s.. in liandsome cloth ;
or 2s3. in morocco elegant.
Mr. Ruskin says:— "This beautiful book is
by far the best I have ever seen on thesuhject,
and will be a most precious gift^book for nie."

"Those Holy Fields." Palestine

Illustrated hv Pen and Pencil. By the
late Rev. S.ohtel Mannin.;. LL.D. With
numerous Kngraviugs. fes., liandsome cloth
gilt ; : -

Pictures from Bible Lands.

Drawn with Pen ami Pencil. Edited bv
the Rev. S. G. Geeen. D.I). The Engra-
vings by Edward Whymper and others.
88., handsome cloth gilt ; 2os. morocco.

New Edition. Just Published.

The Land of the Pharaohs.

Egypt and Sinai. Illustrated by Pen and
Pencil. By the late Rev. Sami'kl Man-
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Swiss Pictures. Drawn with Pen

and Pencil. By Samtkl Manning, LL.D.
With- numerous Illustrations. 8s., hand-
some cloth gilt ; 258. morocco.

The Religious Tract Society, London.

ILLUSTRATED GIFT-BOOKS.

fei

Her

Life
and
Reign.

By Dr. Maiai'lay, Aiithor of "Sea Pictures," "Luther Anecdotes." "Gordon

Anecdotes," etc. With Five Portraits of the Queen, and Sixty Knuravinffs

by Edward Whyniper and others. Small Quarto 10s. 6d. cloth, pilt edfres.

"The author's endeavour has been to recall thiise qualities in the personal chara'-ter of

the Queen and the incidents in her life which have moat endeared her to her peuple."

[UuHrnfii Li,ndi,n ,Vmw.

' It is a l>eautifully printed au very prettily illustrateii volume, and is admir able in tone
and feeling."— I fVie«<ei<«i.

" A very acceptable gift-book. "—.^''Va"(A>r'/ ilcnury.

The Harv.e8t of a Quiet

Kyk ; or, Leisure Thoufflita for

Busy Lives. By the Kev. .1. R.

Vernon, M.A. With numerous Eii-

graYintfs. New Edit on. 68. 6_d.

cloth, gilt edjfes.

"1 never saw anything more gracefully or

more rightly done — more haiTuoniously

pleasant in text and illustration.'' — Mr.

liufkin.

Ingleside and Wayside

Musings. A companion volume to
" The Harvest of a Quiet Eye."
6g. cloth gilt.

Random Truths in Common

Things. Occasional: Papers from mv
Study Chair. By the Rev. J. R.
Vernon, M.A., author of " The
Harvest of a Quiet Eye." lUustra-
tio'rs. 7s. clotn g-ilt.
" It seems even better than 'The Harvest
of n Quiet Eye.' '—Mr. Jiunk-iu.

"Should bo placed next to Wuri'swortli on
I'very student's book.shelf."— .S(anrfa>'(/.

The Life of Jesus Christ the

Savioi'r. By Mrs. S. Watson. With
many line Engravings 5s. cloth.

■' For young people to read , or to help a teacher
in lighting up •■» narrative of the one piTfect life,
and interesting young people in all its pans and
details, we have seen nu hetlfr volume of the
kind than thii."~Mfthmlij<l Rrruriler.

Dr. Stoughton's Reformation Books.

The Spanish Reformers,

their Memories and Dwelling Places.
By Dr. Stouohton. Finely Illus-
trated. 88. handsome cloth g-ilt.

" A. most interesting and instructive volume.''
— .S'pfrtrj(or.

Footprints of Italian Re-

FORMERR. By Ur. Stodohton. Finely

IlUistiiMed. 8k. handsome cloth f<ilt.

"A very charming and useful gift-book. "—

Homes and Haunts of

Luther. By Dr. .Stoiiohto.w.
Finely Illii.stratcd. 8s. hand.some
cloth, gilt edges.

Thk Bblioiods Tract Society, Loxdon.

'^^

P. Useful Set for Presentation ^-

To a Minister or Sunday School Ter.cher.

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"The volumes which the Tract Society is issuinar under the above title fully
deserve success. They have been entrusted to scholars who have a special
acquaintance with the subjects about which they severally treat."— TA* Athma'nm.

1. Cleopatra's Needle. By the Rev. J. King, Lecturer for the

Palestine Exploration Fund. With Illustrations. 2s. 6d.

2. Fresh Light from the Ancient Monuments. By A. H.

Savck, ll.d., Deputy Professor of Comparative Philology, Oxford, etc.
With Facsimiles from Photographs. 3s.

3. Recent Discoveries on the Temple Hill at Jerusalem.

By the Rev. J. Kim;, m.a., Lecturer for the Palestine Exploration Fund.
With Maps, Plans, and illustrations. 2s. 6d.

4. Babylonian Life and History. By E. A. Wallis Budge,

M.A., Cambridge, .Assistant in the Department of Oriental Antiquities,
British .Vluseum. 3s.

5. Galilee in the Time of Christ. By Selah Mereill, d.d.,

Author of " East of the .lordan." With a Map. 2s. 6d.

6. Egypt and Syria. Their Physical Features in Relation

to Bible History. By Sir .1. W. Dawson, f.o.s., f.r.s. With many Illustra-
tions. 3s.

7. Assyria : Its Princes, Priests, and People. By A. H.

Sayck, M.A.. LL.o. Illustrated. 3s.

8. The Dwellers on the Nile. Chapters on the Life, Literature,

History, and Customs of .\ncient P^gypt. By E. A. Wallis Budgk, m.a., of
the British Museum. Illustrated. 3s.

9. The Diseases of the Bible. By Sir J. Risdon Bennett,

M.D.. F.R.S., Ex-President of the Royal College of Physicians. 2s. 6d.

10. Trees and Plants of the Bible. By W. H. Gkoser, b.Sc.

Illustrated. Crown Svo. S.-. cloth.

11. Animals of the Bible. By H Ohiche.steb Hart. B.A.,

Naturalist to Sir G. Nares' Arctic Expedition and Professor Hull's Palestine
» Expedition. Illustrated. Crown Svo. 3s.

Thb Rklioious Tbaot Society, London.

1^5=

^ ^ n_

HANDSOME GIFT-BOOKS 1

Indoor Games and Recrea-

TioNs. A popular KiicTclopa'dia
for Boys. Edited by G. A.
Hutchison. Including chapters by
J. N. Maskklynk, Lieut.- Col.
CvTHKLi,, Dr. Gordon Stablbb,
B.N., Rev. A. N. Malan, m a.,
C. Stansfibld - H1CK8, I)r.
Btradlivo, and others. " Bov's
Own Bookshelf." Vol. VIII.
With many Knsrraving.s. Quarto.
8s. cloth boards, i?ilt edges. A
splendid Gift-Book or Prize for
Boys. 528 pages, 8^ X 6J.

■•^Wood

"'STORy

G.WooD

an& JJtatbrns.

Grirl's Own Indoor Book.

Edited by Chaklks I'ktkrb.
528 pages, SJ X GJ, With over one
hundred and fifty illustrations. 8s,
cloth, gilt edges.

Containing practical helps to Girls
in all matters relating to their
material comfort and moral well-
being. By the Author of " How to
be Happy though Married," Dora
de Blaquiere. Dora Hope, Marie
Karger, Lady Macfarren, Lady
Lindsay, Ernst Pauer, Sir John
Stainer, the Hon. Victoria Gros-
venor. John C. Staples, Canon
Fleming, " Modicus," Ruth Lamb,
Sophia Caulfeild, and many others.

The Handy Natural his-
tory. By the Rev. J. G. Wooi).
author of " Homes without
Hands," etc., etc. 368 pages, 8 X ej
With 224 Engi-avings. 8s. cloth
boards, gilt edges.

" A delightful book, and will make
a very handsome and enviable
high-class prize or present." —
School Board Chronicle.

" A handsome volume, in which the
author, a well-known naturalist,
tells his readei-s in simple, un-
technical language the habits and
nature of birds, beasts, and rep-
tiles. Mr. Wood's style is excel-
lently adapted for attracting the
interest and insuring the attention
of even ordinarily careless rea-
ders." — Mail.

The RsLiaious Tract Society, Lojjdok.

THE SUNFLOWERS SERIES]

OF STORIES FOR ALL READERS.

jglll^PkOWEi^^

The Head of the House.

This is a Series of Books intended for adults rather than children. Lar^e num-
bers of young people, as well as readers of older growth, give up much of their
time to fiction. This Series supplies books which not only interest as well-written
Stories that afford studies of character and descriptions of events and scenes likely
to rivet the attention, but which also stimulate the serious thought, and develop
the better nature of those into whose hands they fall.

The Manse of Glen Clunie. By

E(iLANTON Thoiink, autlior of " The Old
Worcester Jug," " Th*- Two Crowns,"
etc. Illustrated by Charles Whympk.r,
Crown 8vo, 3s. (id. cloth.

Two Enthusiasts. By E.

KvF. RKTT OuEEN. Illustrated by
F.DWAUi) Whymper. Crown 8vo. ^s.
cloth boards.

Barbara's Brothers. By E.

Everett Grken, Author of " Lenore
Annandale's Story," " Joint Guardians,"
etc. Illustrated by R. and E. Taylor.
Crown 8vo, .5s, cloth boards.

Joint Guardians. By E.

Everett Green. Illustrated. 5s. cloth.

Joyce Graham's History ; or.

Overcoming Evil with Good. By II. A.
GowRiNo. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d.

Another King. By Janet Eden.

Illustrated by E. Whtmper. Crown 8vo.
3s. M. cloth.
A Story of Victory over Passion and
I'ride. By E. E. Green. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 58.
IdaNicolari. ByEoLANTONTHOBNE. Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 3s. fid.
The Old Manuscript ; or, Anaise Robineau's History. A Tale
of the Huguenots of La Vendee. By Blanche M. Moooridge, Illustrated
by K. Whymi'EK. Crown 8vo. 5s. cloth.

Young Sir Richard. By H.

Fbkdkrick Charleb. lUuitrated. Crown
8vo. 5s. cloth.

Maddalena, the Waldensian

Maiden and her People. Translated by
Jii.iE Sutter. Illustrated. Crown 8vo.
3s. «d. cloth.

Turning Points ; or. Two Years

in Maud Vernon's Life, By L. C. Silke.
Illustrated. Crown 8vo. 3s 6d. cloth.

Reaping the Whirlwind. A Story

of Three Lives. Illustrated, Crown 8vo.
39. 6d. cloth.

One Day at aTime. By Blanche

E. M. Grene. Illustrated by E. Whymper.
Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. cloth.

The Mistress of Lydgate

Priory ; or, the Story of a Long Life.
By Evelyn E. Gbeen. Crown 8vu. 5s.

The Two Crowns. By Eglanton

Thornk. V/ith IllustrationB. Crown 8vo.
3s. 6d. eloth.

Lenore Annandale's Story. By Evelyn E. Green. With

Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 5s. cloth,

Carola. ByHESBASTRKTTON. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 3s. fid.
Sunflowers. A Story of To-day. By G. C. Gedge. Illustrated.

Crown 8vo. 38. 6d. cloth.

The Rbligious Tract Society, London.

n Annual.

The Ninth Volume of " The Girl's Own Paper."
—containing 848 Ueray 4to (11 X Sjl pages of
interesting and useful reading. Stories by popu-
lar writers ; Music by eminent composers ; Prac-
tical Papers for Young Housekeepers ; Medical
Papers by a well-known practitioner ; Needle-
work, plain and fancy : Helpful Papers for
Christian Girls ; Papers on Reasonable and Sea-
sonable Dress, etc., etc. Profusely illustrated.
Price 8s. in handsonu- cloth ; 9s. 6d. with gilt
edges ; 126. 6d. half-morocco.

Cbc Bou's #b)n ^nnual

FOR 1888.

The Tenth .\nnual Volume of the "Boy's Own
Paper." Containing 848 large pages (llj x SJi
of Tales of Schoolboy Life, ami of Adventure on
Land and Sea ; Outdoor and Indoor Games for
every Season; Perilous .-Vdventures at Home and
Abroad; Amusements for Summer and Winter;
and Instructive Papers written so as to be read by
boys and youths. With many Coloured and Wood
Kngravings. Price 8s. handsome cloth ; 9s. 6d.
• gilt edges ; 12s. 6d. half-iuorocco.

^'Illustrated annuals^'

FOR PRESENTATION.

(T b c 1' i s u r e ,M our

Annual Volume for 1888.

" BehoM ill Uii-si' wh.it le
ment ami true knowk-dgo hai

The Vot.iME fok 1888 of this Monthly Maga-
zine for Kamily and General Reading cimtains »M
Imperial 8vo. pages ^ll X 7^) of interesting readiut!.
with numerous lUustratinns by Eminent .Artist--.
It forms a handsome Book for Presentation,
and an appropriate and instructive volume for
a School or College Prize. Price Is. in cloth
boards; 8s. Gd. e.xtra boards, gilt edges ; 10s. (>d
half-bound in calf.

oTbc .^untiun at pome.

Annual Volume for 1888.

AN ILLUSTRATED FAMILY MAGAZINE FOR
SABBATH READING.
This Voi.ime fok 1888 forms a very s\iit«ble
Book for Presentation. It contains 828 pages,
Imperial 8vo (11 X "Ji, with a great variety of
Interesting and Instructive Sabbath Reading for
every Member of the Kamily. It is profusely
illustrated by Coloured and Wood Engravings.
Price 7s. cloth boards; 8s. 6d. extra boards,
gilt edges ; 10s. 6d. half-bound in calf.

Cbc 6ir

The Hblioious Tbaot Socibtt, Londok.

10]

New Editions of Stories j

oloth
Pilgrim Street.

•2s. cloth.

The King's Servants. Illustrated, is. 6d.
Lost Gip. Illustrated. Is. 6d. doth.
Max Kromer. A story of the Siege of Stras-

bmirg. Is. fid. cloth.
No Place Like Home. Illustrated, is.

cloth.

The Storm of Life. Illustrated, is. 6d.

cloth,
A Thorny Path. Illustrated. 2s. cloth.
Under the Old Roof. Illustrated, is. doth.
A Night and a Day. 9d. cloth.
Left Alone. 6d. cloth.
A Miserable Christmas and a Happy

Nnw Ykar. 9d. cloth.

The Worth of a Baby. 6d. doth.

Sam Franklin's Savings Bank. 6d. cloth.

Michel Lorio's Cross, illustrated. 6d. cloth.

The Children of Cloverley. illustrated.

2s. doth.
Little Meg's Children, illustrated, la. 6d.

cloth.
Alone in London. Illustrated. Is. 6d. cloth-
Bede's Charity. Illustrated. 2p. 6d. cloth-
Carola. Illustrated. 3s. 6d. cloth.
Cassy. Illustrated. Is. 6d. cloth.
Cobwebs and Cables. Illustrated. 5s. cloth-

gilt-
The Crew of the Dolphin. Illustrated.

Is. 6d- cloth.

Enoch Roden's Training. Illustrated. 28.

cloth.
Fern S Hollow. Illustrated. 2s. cloth.

Fishers of Derby Haven. Illustrated. 2s.

cloth.
Friends Till Death. Illustrated. 6d. cloth.
Jessica's First Prayer. Illustrated, ist

A story of Manchester Life.

By Mrs. O. F. WALTON.

Christie's Old Organ; or, Home,

Sweet Home. is. doth.
Angel's Christmas- l6mo. 6d-cioth.
Launch the Lifeboat. With 44

Coloured Pictures or Vignettes 4to.

3s. coloured cover.
Little Dot. Coloured Frontispiece.

6d. cloth.
Little Faith ; or. The Child of the

Toy-Stall. Is. cloth.
Nobody Loves Me. Royal 16rao.

Is. doth.
OUve's Story; or, Life at Ravens-

diffc. 2s. 6d. doth, gilt edges.
Was I Right ? Pine EngraTings.

Imp. 16mo. 3s. fid. cloth, gilt edges.

Otrr Gracious Queen : Pictures and

stones from Her Majesty's Life.

With many Pictures. New and

Revised Edition. Is. cloth.
A Peep Behind the Scenes, imp.

16mo. 38. 6d. cloth, gilt edges.
Popple's Presents. Crown Svo.

Is. cloth.
Saved at Sea. A Lighthouse story.

New and cheaper Edition. Is.

cloth.
Shadows. Scenes in the Life of an

Old Arm-Chair. Imp. 16mo. 4s.

cloth, gilt edges.
Taken or Left. Crown 8ro. is.

cloth.

The Relioious Tbaot Society, Londok.

[11

BOYS' STOHY BOOKS,

Untrue to his Trust, a

story of Life iind Adventure in
Charlta tlie Second's Time. By
HiCNBV Johnson. llUisirated. its.
cloth gilt.

The Doctor's Experiment

By the Author of '-Under Fire."
With Illustrations. Imperial Itimo.
.^s. cloth, ifilt edi;es.

The Captain's Story of

LIFE IN JAMAICA. Witu IUub-
tratioQS )iy John Gilbkr'I', Im-
perial IBiao. .Ss. cloth boards, gilt
edges.

Once upc^ a Time ; or, The

Boy's Book of Adventures. With
Illustralions. 33. cloth.

Stories of the Old Romans.

Bv S. S. Pu«u. Illustrated. 3s.
cloth.

Historic Landmarks in the

CHUISTIAX (JKNTUKIEh By
RiCHABn IlEATn. With Eighty-
four Illustnitujua. 4to. lOs. hand-
some cloth gilt.

Ernest Hepburn ; or, Revon-fe and Vm-

givon.!ss. l!v H. ('. Adams, m.a., Vicar of Olrt
8luir.liimi. Illustrated by f;. WuvMi-KK. Crown
Nvo. .'>s. cloth boarda.

Drake and the Dons ; or, stirring Tales

of Arnuula Times. Edited and Arranged by
RrciiAi:i> LovETT, m./. With Portraits, Mnps.
and Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 38. fid. cloth
boards, gilt edges.

What to Read at Winter Entertain-
ments. Part I.— Verae Part II.— Prose.
Edited and arranged by Kcv. FBi;i)KKHK Lam>-
BRiuue. M.A., Author of " Sent BacK hv the
.Vngcl.s." '• Poor Folk's Lives.' etc. Each 'is. (id.
cloth boards.

The Latch Key ; By T. S. Millington,

Author of "A CJri^t Mlst.'ike." "Through Fire
and through \Vat.t>r," etc. Illustrated. Crown
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More than Conqueror; or, A Boy's

Tempt^tiuus. Bv HAimiKTTE K. Kcboh. Author
of ''The Heroines of Haarlem," etc. Illustrated.
Crown Nvo. 3s. cloth.

Marching Orders ; or, Soldier Bobbie.

By Lucv Tayi.ou, Author of " Led into Light."
" Sundial ilourt," etc. Illustrated. Crown 8vo.
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GeoflErey Heywood; or. The Right Way.

By Mrs, Coopkr, Author of •' Nearly in Port.," etc.
Illustrated. CrovmSvo. 2s. fid. cloth boards.

Sailor Jack, a Tale of the Southern Sea.
By Constance Cboss, Author of " After Twenty
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Is. fid. cloth boards.

All for Number One; or. Charlie Rus-

sell's rps and Downs. A Story tor Bovsand Girls.
By llENKY Johnson, Author of ' true to His
Vow." etc. Illustrated Ijy E. Whvmpek. Crown
Svo. 33 fid. cloth boards, gilt edges.

Hindered and Help. A story for Boys.

Illustrated. Crown 8to. Ss. cloth boards.

y&.

Adventures of a Three - Guinea

WATCH, by Talbot BA1NE8 Keed. With Illns
trations. Crown 8to. 3s. fid. cloth boards.

Football. A Popular Handbook of tho
l}ame. By Dr. iHr ne, C. W. Aloock, and other
recognistA authorities. With Illustrations.
Crown Svo. Is. fid. cloth.

Cricket. A Popular Handbook of the Game.
By Dr. W. G Grace. Rev. J. Pvcrokt. Lord
Charles Russell, F. Gale. and others. 25. oloih

A Great Mistake: A Tale of Adventure,
by T. S. MiLLiNGToN. With Illustration.<. 3s. fid-
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The Fifth Form at St- Dominic's, a

School Story. By Talbot Baines Keeu. With
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Through Fire and Through Water

A Story of Adventure and Peril. By T, S. MliL-
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Harold, the Boy Earl- A story of Old

England By J. F. Hoduetts, Author of 'Eric
the Norseman. " 32. Gd. cloth.

The Rblioiocs Tract Society, Londok.

12]

BOOKS FOE (JIHI.S.

Grace Trevelyan; or. Led into Light.

By Mrs. Uioi-E, Autlior of ''The .Sure Harvest,' '
" The First Gift, " etc. lUiiBtrated by E. Whympkk
Crown Sto. 33. fid. cloth hoards, gilt edges.

May, " a Succourer of Many." By Miss

A. G. Gbav-Jones. With Illustratious. (jrowii
Hvo. 2s. <!loth boards.

Dorothy Tresilis. A Cornish Tale. By
M. M. Poi.labu, Author of •' Lilla's Kxperimeni,'
■ (Inly Me," etc. Illusitrated. CrowTi 8vo. Is. 6.1
elotli boards.

Miss Elsie. A story of Single-hearted
SerTii.-e. Ky H. Mary Wilson. Illustrated
'Jrown 8to. •>» 6d. cloth boards.

" Therefore." or Nessie'.s ideal. A Story
for Girls. Bj Florence E. Bubch, author of
"Joseph Adams," etc. Illustrated. Crown 8vo
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John Richmond's Mistake. By Jankt

K.DKN, aiiihor of 'Hester's Home" "Another
King," etc. Illustrated. Crowu Svo. 2s. fid
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In a Jesuit Net. By a. c. Coape,

Author of ' The Chateau de Louar<l," etc.
Illustrated by Ekwaku Whympeb. Crown
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Mrs. Morse's Girls. A story of

.American Sunday School Life. Illustrated.
Crown Svo. 3s. Hd clotli boards, gilt edges.

The Heroines of Haarlem. Adapt-
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By H*RKiF,iTH E. BrncH, Author of
•• L'ount llenuelierg's Treason," etc. With
Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 3s. 8d. cloth,
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Higher Up. Py Nbi.lik Helms.
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ing Robin," " Gipsy Jan," etc. etc. Illus-
trated. Crown Syo. 28. cloth boards.

Hope Reed's Upper Windows.

By iluM-K BKNMNfi. 3i,. Cd. cloth gilt.

Dolly. A Quiet Story for Quiet People
By M. F. W. Illustrated. Crown 8v..
Is. fid. cloth boards.

Every Day. a story for Sunday
Afternoons. By Evelyn E. Fauuai:
Illustrated. Crowu Svo. Is. tid. cloth
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Aunt Diana. By Bosa Nox chf.ttb Carey, Author of " Not Like Other Girls

■ Esther Cameron's Story," etc. Illu-trated. Imperial IBmo. 28. fid. bevelled boards
Miss Carey is well known as an able and graceful writer of stories for girls. This o
11 Mstrates the worliing of duty founded upon Christian principle.

Cora ; oi". Three Years of a Girl's Life.

Illustrated. Imiieriallfimo. 2s. fid. cloth.

The Girl's Own Cookery Book. By

I'Hii. MS Browne. Fcap. Svo. is. clotii.

The Queen o' the May. By Anne

Beale. Illustlated. Imperial Ifimo. 2s. Gd.
,-loth

The Master's Ser'vlce. A Practical

Guide for Girls. Illustrated. Imperial Ifimo.
2s fid. cloth.

How to Play the Pianoforte. Fcap.

Svo. l3. fid. cloth.

Her Obiect m Life. By Isabella Kyvie

May... Illustrated. Imperial Ifimo. 2b. fid, cloth.

The Sunbeam of the Factory, and

other Stories. Illustrated. Imperial Ifimo -
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Esther. By Ro.sa Nouchettb Cakey. Illus-
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The Shepherd's Fairy. By Dabley

Dale, Author of ' The Great Auk's Eggs." lUus-
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Servants and Service. By Ritth Lamb,

Author of " Comfortable Mrs. Crook," etc. Is, M.
clclli boards.

The Rklioioos Tract Society, London.

[13

THE NEVV' SERIES OF

HALF-eHOWN BOOKS

FOR ALL

Each with 384 Pages, 7h x 5,

READERS.

Illustrated. Cloth, Gilt Edges.

ud.

lii

Chronicles of an Old Manor House. By the late G.

Saroent, author of " Tho Story of a Pocket Bible," etc. 2s. 6(1.

A Race for Life, and other Tales. 2s 6d. cloth, gilt edges.
Strange Tales of Peril and Adventure. Illustrated. 2s.

cloth silt.

Remarkable Adventures from. Real Life. Illustrated.

2s. 6d. cloth silt
The Black Troopers, and other Stories. lUusl rated. 2s, 6d.

cloth s'lt.

Adventures Ashore and Afloat. Illustrated. 2s 6d. cloth gilt.
Finding Her Place. By Howe Eenning, Author of "Quiet

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The Mountain Path. By Lily Watson. Author of '-Within

Sight of the .Snow," etc. Illustrated. Crown 8 vo. 23. 6d cloth gilt.

Among the Mongols. By Kev. J. Gilmour. Illustrated.

2s. (id. cloth pit.
Within Sea Walls ; or, How the Dutch kept the Faith. By
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The Story of a City Arab. With Portrait and Memoir of the
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A PRETTY PRESENT.
Morning and Evening. Keble's Morning and Evening Hymns.

Beautifully illustrated from sketches by J. Ci.abk, J. H. Hipsley, Davidson
Knowi.es, Jamks N. Lkk. C. J. St.^^nii.ani), J. R. Wei.ls, and C. M. Wimperis.
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COLOURED BOOKLETS.
Signals for the Voyage of Life and Heavenly Graces.

With Verses by Maky K. Kotes.
Two attractive little coloured books, each consisting of twenty-four pages, with
a cover. The Texts are given in iiluniinated letters, and the Verses are from the
practised pen of Miss Ropes. The booklets are tinisacdwith gilt edgis, rounded
corners, and tied with ribbon. Od. each.

Tub Religious Tract Societt, London.

jSf^P^S R§I^ GfllhDI^BQ

The-Happ'^s'^

The Happiest Half-Hoxir : or, Sunday

Talks with Children. By FUErfEHloK Lano-
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The Sweet Story of Old. a Snnday

Book for the Little Oues. By Hesba Stketton.
Author of "Jessica's Fiist Prayer" " Bede's
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Watts's Divine and Moral Songs.

Sew Edition. With nmuy fine Coloured Ilhistra-
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My Holiday Picture -Book. Com-
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Joiinnie— The Children of tlie Bible— The Busy
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My Colo;ired Picttire Story -Book.

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■Rihlp «?tnrip<? nnrt Pictures With Twenty-four Coloured pajje Pictures
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gilt.

Harrison Weir's Pictures of Birds and other Family Pets, with

24 large Coloured Pictures, .is. handsomely bound, with Bide in (,oId and Colours.

Storyland. By Sidney Grkv. With Thirty-two Illustrations by Robert
B.UOKS Engraved and Printed iu Colour by EDMUND EvAXS. 6s. handsomely bound n,
coloured japer boards.

Our Pets and Companions: Pictures and stories illustrative of Kindness to
Animals Ity Makv K.Maktin, Author of " Fruits of Bible Unds. ' et,-. Profusely Illus-
trated by Weib, Stacev, Wiivmi>ek, 11. E. Kdwaeds, L Q. Bkittain, and others. Small 4to.
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Talkative Friends in Field, Farm, and Forest. By Mary E. Ropes.

Author of ■ Tom's Bennic." '• Till the Sugar Melts, etc. Profusely Illustrated. A similar
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Little Dot and Her Friends, with

Twenty-four iJolourcd Pictures and Forty Vig-
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Launch the Lifeboat! By Mrs. o. F.

Wai.to.v, .Author of 'Christies Old Organ." etc.
With Coloured Pictures and Vignettes, from
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Siinday Afternoons at Rose Cottage.

Bible Talks with Mamma. By Mrs. Watkbwoktu,
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In very large type. With Illustrations. Is. Hd.
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Listening to Jesus- A Sunday Book for

the l.iitio Oues. By E. M. Watebwhrth. With
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Children's Daily Bread. A Picture,

Text and Verse for Every Day of the Year.

2s. 6d. cloth.

Bible Tales for Children. With Forty

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Stories of Bible Children. A New Sun-
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The Rblioious Tract Societt, Londok.

POPULAR ANNUALS, ^^f

®l)ili»'s (Eompaninn

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Juvenile Instructor Annual

#ur little Hots

Annual for 1888.

l'r^ pngua. SJ Ijy 6J.

FOR

1888.
192 pages. SJ liy fij.
ContftinH a Story
in twelve chapters
bv Mrs O. K. Wai,-
TOK, Author of
" Christie's Old Oi-
gan," Ac, and a
variety of interf^st-
ing reading for
young foll<8, witli a
Coloured Frontis-
itieire Jind many
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attractive coloured
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J'he Yenrlii Volume of

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DOTS."

Full of Pretty Vic-
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attractive coloured
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28 6d. handsome cloth
gilt.

" Just whatchildren
will like." — Church
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%\it (Cottager anft l.rtisan Annual.

THE VOLUME FOR 1888.

It contains 144 pages of
interH8tiagreftdin(f ftndilluB-
ratious. A most sui table
book to preseut to the Work-
ineu's Institute, Club, or
Reading Koom, and for the
Uome Reading of Work-
ing People in Town and
Country. Many Large Pic-
tures, tormingiiuitca family
scrap-book. Much of the
letterpreas Ih in large type,
la. fid. in pretty coloured
cover J 28. 6d. cloth boards
gilt.

Si7.e of page 13^ by 10.

" Tolling picturesand prac-
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that any praise of ours might
incri'ase the circulation of a
most valuable periodical." —
The Times.

" A large amount of good
reading for those who have
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The type is large and clear,
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*' A welcome addition to
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JVeioti.

flju gPract jKaga^ine IFmnftl^ dwettnga.

Annual for 1888.

240 pages. 8i by 5.
Contains a com-
plete Btory in four-
teen chapters by
Mrs. O. NliilE.Ni-
JACKSON, Author
of " Me and Jim,"
Ac, entitled "The
Family Foe." aud
eontrioutious by I*.
B. POVVKU, M.A.,
A. N. Mackrav,
M.A., M. E. Bkck,
R. R. TlloM. LtKY
Taylor, C. H.
spdrgkox.jamek
GII.MOUR, and
others. With nume-
rous Knsrravings.
Is. 6d. cloth boards.

ILLUSTRATED READINGS FOR
THE PEOPLE.

208 pages. lOJby?}.

This Illustrated
Maffazine is bound
in half-yearly
volumes. Filled
with Pictures and
short anecdotal pa-
pers. Each half-
yearly volume
complcU' in itself,
and profusely
Illustrated. 2s. Bd.
cloth boards.

" Lively, enter-
iaiuin^ readinirs.
The illustrations

The Rklioiocs Tract Society, Losdon.

' V

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UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIUTV

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