mind, for the body-guard say that his majesty (the elephant) has never been the same since.

There are frequent reports of the capture of white elephants, and special questing parties are sent out every now and then. But the candidates almost invariably fail to satisfy the water test, or the tail is not long enough, or the position of the eye is wrong, and the red ring is wanting. At any rate, genuine "white" elephants are very seldom found. As with the king, when the Sinpyoo-daw is dead it is not permissible to say so in as many rude words. It must be whispered that his majesty has "departed" or "disappeared." He gets a royal funeral.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

MINISTERS OF STATE.

WHEN Mindohn Min heard in 1874 that the elections had gone against the ministry, and that Disraeli was to be Premier, he sighed, and said: "Then poor Ga-la-sa-tong (Gladstone) is in prison, I suppose. I am sorry for him. I don't think he was a bad fellow, and I gave him the Fifteen-string Saluè (the Burmese Order of Knighthood) a year or two ago." That is the Burmese notion of how to settle the Opposition. The lines of statesmen in the Royal City of Gems are not cast in pleasant places. If they rise rapidly, they come down with as much precipitation; and their fall is as crushing as ordinarily it is inevitable. The coolie of to-day may be the minister of to-morrow; and a month hence, he may be spread-eagled in the court of the palace, with a vertical sun beating down upon him and huge stones piled on his chest and stomach. Or he may be treated even more summarily than this. When King Tharrawaddy succeeded, he made Bah-gyee-daw's ministers work as slaves on the roads for a time, and when this exercise had quite worn them out, charitably put them to death, without the frightful barbarities which characterised his treatment of the upstart Queen Dowager and her quondam all-powerful brother

Min-thah-gyee. A more recent example is that of the Nain-gan-gya Woon-douk. This unfortunate statesman was sent in 1880 as an Ambassador to the English Raj, and after eight months stay on board of a steamer at Thayetmyo, a few miles inside the British frontier, came back to say that his mission had failed, and that in fact he had been told to go away. He did not survive long. It was a week or two before he was admitted to see the king; and when he did see him the meeting was unpleasant. Next day the portly woon-douk "died of apoplexy."

Sudden deaths were not at all uncommon in the late king's reign. An official displeased him in some way, and Mindohn Min said emphatically, "I don't want to see that man any more." The poor wretch left the royal presence to be seized by lictors outside and killed more or less rapidly. A day or two afterwards his Majesty would ask where so-and-so was. "Alas! sire," was the answer, "he died of chagrin shortly after the lord of earth and ocean cast eyes of displeasure on him." Then the Convener of the Fifth great Synod quoted a pious saw from the Lawka-needee, and turned his mind to other matters. He made it a special boast that never in all his reign had he ordered an execution. Yet many people died of official colic" during the time he was on the throne, and Colonel Sladen arrived sixty seconds too late with a respite for one of the pious Monarch's own sons. The sound of the hoofs of the English Resident's horse as he galloped past the astrologers' monastery to the execution ground, only quickened the headsman's sword. The hapless min-thah should have perished with the setting sun. There were still long shadows slanting up from the trees by the royal foundry, when the Colonel reined in and upbraided the presiding Minister with his bloodthirsty

haste. The Linga-yahma Sadaw when he heard the story, said the ayay-baing should have been a Buddhist and might probably become a yahanda in no very distant existence.

Yet the late king was undoubtedly a kindly man. The stories which occasionally appeared about him in the English papers of ten years or so back, were not true. He never got a pea-rifle and "potted' "potted" his subjects from the palace verandahs when he was bored. They libelled him who said he did. He was a good Buddhist, and never took life of man or animal. King Theebaw is, perhaps, not quite so strict in his notions. When he first came to the throne he unearthed the spear with which his grandfather Tharrawaddy used occasionally to spit his counsellors. The young king's aim was not quite so good, or his purpose not quite so deadly. He prodded a few heralds and interpreters, and flung the spear at one or two of his father's trusted advisers; but it is not recorded that he ever actually killed anybody with his own hands. In fact, he gets on fairly well with his ministers now, having drilled the seniors into complete submission to his wishes and appointed among the younger members those who are most of his own way of thinking. The most characteristic man in the Cabinet is the Hlaydin A-twin-woon, better known as the Hpoung-woon. He is only of the second official grade, but none of the four woon-min-gyees have any real power. They date from the last reign and are practically over-ridden by the younger party. The king has, it is true, married the daughter of the Kampat. Min-gyee, but that stolid old gentleman was always remarkable for his disinclination to do anything at all, and is not at all likely to exert himself unduly for the sake of precarious pre-eminence. Therefore, the ex-Mayor of Mandalay, in conjunction with the Yanoung prince, a favourite of the Queen Soo-payah-lat's,

and one or two others of the young Burman party, are the most representative ministers at present.

The A-twin-woon wears the dragon tattooed on the nape of his neck. Fourteen years ago he was a slave, and in position little better than a coolie. His rise from this rank might have been a credit to him if it had been

effected by his own powers. But he rose by a mere accident, and has carried all the tendencies of his original position with him. In 1866, when two of King Theebaw's half-brothers, the Mingohn and Mingohndeing princes, rose in rebellion against their father, the late king, the Hpoung-woon-he seems more familiar under his old title -was one of the guards in the palace. After the rebels had killed their uncle, "the War Prince," they made for the Summer Palace, where the king was at the time along with Colonel Sladen, the British Resident. The Summer Palace is a small building outside the stockade of the actual nandaw, and it was foreseen that his Majesty would make immediately for the Eastern Gate, which is quite close at hand. A man was therefore stationed there with orders to kill King Mindohn whenever he made his appearance. All happened as had been surmised with one slight exception. Royal blood in Mandalay never goes outside the palace on its own legs, and when his Majesty reached the gate he promptly jumped on the intending regicide's back and bade him carry him over the esplanade. The man was so overcome by the royal presence, or so slavishly accustomed to do what he was ordered, that he obeyed. When they were safe within the inner stockade he stooped down to let the king dismount, and his sword fell from the folds of his waistcloth. None but the king may carry arms within the nandaw, and the Hpoung-woon, grasping the situation, snatched up the sword and cut the man's head off. Mindohn Min, with