mii^o -m?^ OR, Life IN AM Ancjent Buddhist City Rev. S.LANGDON. »« ,'V' > Y> 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. 32 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