But even while the tender young mother crooned her love-songs to her soft nestling, the cruel edict went forth that the babe was to be taken from her, as also each new-born man-child that came into the land, for, as a blighting flash from the clouds that strikes the healthy young sapling at the root, there had come to Kangsa's fear-burdened mind the knowledge that in his former birth he had been dethroned and slain by one of his own kin, who was said to have come from on high even to still the power of the wicked and exalt the lowly and virtuous. This in all its weight had come into his heart, and louder than the bolts of thunder the voice he had heard on Devaki's wedding-day seemed to throb in his brain, as he saw Vāsudeva depart with his first-born son. And great were the lamentations of the mothers who gave birth unto sons in that land. Many departed from the kingdom where Kangsa, the destroyer of the young, did rule. But when the wailing of the new-born child was no longer heard in all that kingdom, the prince in his madness deposed his father, Ugrasen, and became himself the King and thrust Devaki, his sister, and Vāsudeva into the dungeon of his palace, where the six sons that were born to them were dashed to death on the flagged floor in the hour of their coming by Kangsa himself. And now again there was quickening in the womb of Devaki, and the joy of natural motherhood was overshadowed by the terror of the fate of the new life that was to be a babe. But groundless was the fear of the agonized mother, for his coming was even before his time; for the earth sent a mist thick as the garment of death to shroud the palace of the King, and a deep sleep on the gaolers fell on the hour that the child of premature birth felt the breath of earth, and drowned were its first weak wails by the sound of the winds that shrieked without. And the child that came to the world too soon, even before his time was completed, was despatched in great haste to one who suckled him and called him her own. The child that by the near hand of love was saved from the hand of frenzied murder was the child that would walk with the Lord of Love and play with the Soul of the Universe. And when the mists were gone, the King marvelled that no child had come, while the mother marvelled at the goodness of Him who was the Author of Life. CHAPTER IV. Now the time was ready for Hari (Krishna) to come to be born and dwell upon earth. His sweet will it was to be as a man and show man the beauty of Love. It was then that Devaki again conceived and a mother unto the eighth child would be. But lo! fear now to her was unknown and glory shone around her like the sun filling the darkened dungeon with light, for the Lord of all Light in her mind did come, and Him as a child to the world she would bring. She, who the mother many times of sorrow was, now the mother of joy had become.