ing, went and told him, and he returned and said another Kammatthana over the body. The body, now losing its appearance, looked like a speckled cow,-the feet fell down, the hands, bent and warped, were raised up, from the forehead downwards the body was divested of its skin and flesh. Mahākāla-thera, seeing this, said, "This young girl only just now had the appearance of gold, but now she has come to utter destruction." Then, after again repeating the Kammatthana, he exclaimed, "This is the law of muta'bility! there is nothing permanent !" On this, he redoubled his exertions in repeating the Vipassanā law, and reached the state of a Rahanda.

At that time, Parā Taken, surrounded by his Rahans, and accompanied by Mahākāla-thera, arriving in the Setavya country, entered the ebony forest. The wives of Kullakala, on the arrival of Para Taken, plotting to get back their husband, invited Parā Taken to take rice. Parā Taken accordingly went to the house of Kullakāla's wives, accompanied by all his Rahans, and ordered Mahākāla-thera to have a place prepared for him before he arrived. Mahākāla-thera directed his younger brother, the Rahan Kullakala, to go before, and have a place prepared; and Kullakāla, going quickly to the house of his wives, began to prepare for the reception of Para Taken. His wives thereupon said to him, "Who appointed you a preparer of places of reception? Who gave you leave to become a Rahan? Why did you become a Rahan?" Then they stripped off his priest's garments, fastened a layman's waistcloth round him, bound a turban on his head, adorned him with flowers, and saying to him, "Now go, and meet Parā Taken on the road, and con

duct him here," they sent him off with some slaves to receive Para Taken. Kullakala, not at all ashamed of having re-entered the laity before keeping his first Lent, went as a layman to receive Para Taken. Parā Taken, after eating his rice, preached the law, and then took his departure. Kullakāla's wives took their husband, now a layman, home with them.

Mahākāla's wives hearing of this, said to themselves, "Kullakala's wives have got their husband back; we will recover ours in the same way." Accordingly, they invited Para Taken to come and take' rice, thinking that their husband Mahākāla would come to prepare for his reception; but Parā Taken sent another Rahan for this purpose. The wives being so far foiled in their plot, after entertaining Parā Taken with rice, addressed him thus: "Lord and master, when you take your departure, leave Mahākala-thera with us, to preach to us the benefits resulting from offerings of rice." Para Taken then turned to leave, but when he reached the door, the Rahans said to him, "Parā Taken, if you leave Mahākāla-thera behind, his wives will drag him off; only recently Kullakala, in consequence of being sent to prepare for your reception, was pulled away by his wives, and has become a layman; hence it is really not fitting that Mahākāla-thera should be left behind by himself. Para Taken replied, "Rahans, my dear sons, do you think that Mahākāla resembles Kullakāla? Kullakāla is like a [drift] tree that has reached the shore, but Mahākāla-thera is like a mountain of solid rock, which nothing can shake."

Mahakala-thera's wives, surrounding him, said, "Whose permission did you ask, when you became a

Rahan? Who told you to become a Rahan? Now become a layman again." Saying this, they dragged him along, and tried to strip off his priest's clothes, but Mahākāla-thera, knowing what his wives were about, by means of his miraculous power, rose from the ground, and, flying away over the roofs of the houses through the steeples and spires to the place where Para Taken was, descended to the ground, made his obeisance to him, and remained in his company.

At the conclusion of this discourse, the Rahans obtained the reward of Sotapatti.

END OF THE STORY OF KULLAKALA AND MAHAKALA.

CHAPTER V.

THE STORY OF QUEEN SAMAVATI, QUEEN MAGANDIYA, AND THE SLAVE KHUGGUTTARA.

ON another occasion, Parā Taken, when he was in the Kosambi country, and residing in the Ghositārāma monastery, preached a discourse upon the subject of Queen Samavati and Queen Magandiyā.

A long time ago, two kings, King Allakappa and King Vethadipaka, between whom there had existed a friendship of long standing, dating from their earliest childhood, were learning together the different sciences. On the death of their parents, they both entered on their governments. After performing the functions of kings for a very long time, tired of the world and impressed with the law of fear, they both abandoned their countries, and, becoming Hermit-Rahans, took up their residence in the Himavanta forest.

These two hermits having built a monastery each, on a separate hill, resided in it, and at every quarter of the moon they used to observe the day (as a sabbath), and lighting a lamp as a signal, thus communicated to each other intelligence of their existence. One day, the Rishi Vethadipaka died, and became a Nat of great glory. When the day of the quarter of the

moon came round, Allakappa, seeing no light in his friend's monastery, knew that he was dead.

Now the Nat's son, Vethadipaka, the moment that he became a Nat, entering upon all the enjoyments of that condition, began to consider by what good deed he had obtained this happiness, and saw that he owed it to having abandoned his country and lived as a hermit in the forest. Assuming the guise of a traveller, he went to his old friend Allakappa, and after making obeisance to him, stood before him. Allakappa, the Rishi, said to him, "Dārakā, whence come you ?” "Lord and master," he replied, "I am Vethadipaka; on my death, I became a Nat of great glory; I have come to contemplate my lord and master." After this he resumed, "Lord and master, have you any difficulties or troubles here?" Allakappa replied, "In this place the elephants with their footsteps make great holes in the ground and dirty the precincts of the monastery, and I have great trouble in keeping the place clean and filling up again the holes with earth." The Nat's son said, "Do you wish to keep the elephants away?" He replied, "Yes; all I want is to prevent them coming here."-"Very good, then," he said, and he gave him the charm called "Hatthikanta," which has the power of driving away or bringing elephants, and shewing him a three-stringed lute, he taught him the threefold spell, saying, "If you strike this string and repeat this charm, the elephants will run away; strike this one and repeat this charm, and they will come to you, and, bending down, will carry you." After giving these instructions, he

1 This is the ordinary salutation of the Burmese, answering to the "How do you do?" of Europeans.

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