was natural, for the monks object to the irreverent monkeys, and even attempted to banish them, but without success. The tree was surrounded by hundreds of little three-cornered flags, the offerings of pilgrims, and in vain I tried to find a spot where it was sufficiently visible to be photographed. The difficulty was increased by the fact that the light is at all times bad, for the tree is overshadowed by buildings and higher trees growing in the vicinity. The only result of this first attempt was-flags, and a clear view of the prop that supports the ancient stem, so that the picture seemed to call aloud for the title of " Monday in the suburbs." I came again many times without result, and remembered regretfully the time long ago when I had wandered at will beneath the very shadow of the tree and even picked up one of the leaves which happened to float to my feet. No such chance now! The leaves are esteemed of immense value, and even the devoutest of pilgrims has difficulty in getting At last, one day, speaking through an interpreter, I managed to persuade the solemnfaced monk who strode within the enclosure, of the earnestness of my desire, and he agreed to open the padlocked gate provided I removed my shoes before entering. I agreed readily, as the space was strewn with clean sand, and, making the most of the opportunity, obtained a result showing the actual tree (see p. 49).

one.

It was the sister of Mahinda, Princess Sanghamitta, who, following him in 288 B.C. to the island, brought with her a branch of the bo-tree under which Buddha sat in India when he received

revelation. According to the accepted account the branch of the bo-tree, being encircled with a vermilion pencil, had immediately severed itself from the parent tree and planted itself in the golden vase prepared for it. For seven days the princess, with her eleven attendant priestesses, journeyed to the port of embarkation, and seven days were occupied by their voyage across the ocean. When the great train of people arrived at Ceylon, King Tissa met them with all state and rushed into the waves up to his neck, chanting forth in his zeal and fervour, "This is the bo from the bo-tree" (at which Buddha attained Buddhahood). When they finally reached the capital, the roads were sprinkled with white sand, decorated with every variety of flowers, and lined with banners and garlands. "At the hour when the shadows are most extended he [the king] entered the superbly decorated capital by the northern gate, and passing in procession out of the southern gate, and entering the Mahamego garden, came to the spot destined for the tree." And when the ceremony of the miraculous planting had been accomplished, "A heavy deluge of rain fell around and dense cold clouds completely enveloped the great Bo in its snowy womb for seven days." Which shows the climate must have been as moist then as now. This was nineteen years after the king's conversion, which had happened in the first year of his reign.

Princess Sanghamitta and her followers were installed in a delightful building called the Hatthalako. The king lived to 267 B.C., Mahinda survived him eight years, and the princess lived

one year more. The tree is constantly referred to throughout the Mahawansa; any such terrible catastrophe as its death or decay could not have been concealed. It is as certain as anything of the kind can be that this tree has stood here over 2,200 years, and whether it came originally from the sacred tree of Buddha or not, it has attained sanctity on its own account. A temple was built over it, and in its honour was instituted a water festival, which was held every twelfth year and kept up for generations. Miracles were recorded of the tree and firmly believed in; pilgrims came, and still continue to come, from far and wide, to prostrate themselves before it, and it is one of the Eight Sacred Sites of the Buddhist community called in their own tongue the Atamasthana.

Sir E. Tennent tersely sums up the case thus:

Compared with it the oak of Ellerslie is but a sapling, and the Conqueror's oak in Windsor Forest barely numbers half its years. The yewtrees of Fountains Abbey are believed to have flourished there twelve hundred years ago; the olives in the Garden of Gethsemane were fullgrown when the Saracens were expelled from Jerusalem; and the cypress of Soma, in Lombardy, is said to have been a tree in the time of Julius Cæsar; yet, the Bo-tree is older than the oldest of these by a century, and would almost seem to verify the prophecy pronounced when it was planted, that it would flourish and be green for ever.'

1

Such a tree must inspire the most careless with a passing feeling of reverence.

1 Ceylon. (Longmans. 1860.)