ture; but no, this procession was simply doing honor to the dead body of a light-colored elephant.
The third and fourth boats had no gay curtains, but they had the five-storied umbrellas which denote great rank, and between these two boats the corpse was fastened and floated in the water. There was a canopy of white cloth over it to protect it from the sun. Phya is a title given to a high order of nobility in Siam, and this distinguished elephant was named Phya Sawate. It was so highly esteemed that more than two hundred men escorted it to its last resting-place.
Now, why such parade and ceremony? For the strange reason that the Siamese, with all other Buddhists, believe that at death their spirits pass into the body of some man or animal, of more or less importance according to the amount of merit made while living, and that they may be thus born thousands of times. If they find an elephant of a lighter complexion than usual, they think the spirit of some distinguished person dwells in it—possibly, that of some future Buddha, sure to bring a blessing on the country which possesses so great a treasure.
We hope that the day will soon come when Christianity will supplant Buddhism, and the Siamese be wise enough to prize the elephant only for what it can do in the service of man.
