The story is pitiful enough. These petty risings are of periodical occurrence, and seem to be peculiar to Burma. Three or four have broken out in the last few years. They are never of sufficient importance to cause any anxiety to Government. The sorrow and misery fall on ignorant, misguided peasants who are led astray by some _soi-disant_ Prince. Always a pretender to royal blood, a Minlaung or embryo Prince, with power to work marvels, to bring fire forth from his arm, to kindle mystic lights, or cause gilding to be laid by unseen hands on a pagoda; always fairy-tales of charms against death and wounds. It seems impossible to cure this insane disease of flocking to a pretender’s standard. For the sake of the people themselves, these outbreaks must be suppressed with severity. We used to regard crimes against the State as crimes of the worst character, not as venial offences to be treated tenderly. This is the only kind of sedition which has hitherto troubled Burma. The mass of the people, no less than the educated classes, are too proud to follow demagogues from Bombay or Bengal. They seem to be too intelligent to hanker after representative institutions unsuited to the genius of the race. Recognizing that they already take a great part in the administration, they feel assured that as they show themselves fit, higher offices will be thrown open to their ambition. Enlightened Burmans see that the good of the people is the sole desire of Government, and that this is promoted by due submission to constituted authority, not by liberty of fluent rhetoric. While, therefore, other parts of India were seething with sedition, Burma alone remained unmoved, pursuing its steady march of progress. The speed of the march would be accelerated if Burma had more of its own money to spend, and if it were not often hampered by being made to conform to Indian precedents. All that we knew of sedition was the deportation of certain ring-leaders to Burma, where they were not likely to be regarded with any interest or sympathy.