Two of Kun Saing’s sons were partly educated in England. The elder, Saw Hkè, succeeded his father, and is now the polished, courtly Chief of Thibaw. The story of Saw Lu, the younger son, is pathetic and instructive. When still a boy he was sent to England, and was for a time at Rugby. He was a studious and ambitious youth, whose desire was to be, not a King, but a doctor. Most unwisely, merely to see how he was getting on, his father recalled him, and he was turned loose in Thibaw at the age of about sixteen. The temptations besetting the Chief’s young son in his father’s capital were too strong for him, and he fell from grace. The cup of his iniquity brimmed over when he eloped with a young girl who had been selected as the Sawbwa’s Abishag. The fugitives were brought back, and the boy was cast into prison. “Is this your British justice?” he indignantly asked the political officer who came to condole with him. Presently he was released, and came to see me in Rangoon. “I don’t know what to do,” he said; “I have apologized to the governor, but he won’t forgive me.” He was an exceedingly good-looking, nice-mannered youth, like a pleasant English public-school boy. He was not allowed to return to England. Over his subsequent history it is kinder to draw a veil. The moral of this story is that if a Burman or Shan, especially a Chief’s son, is to come to England, he should be sent while still young, and should be kept at a good public school and at the University until his character has been formed. He should on no account be brought back midway in the course of his education.