of Buddhism; for the latter, whilst it admits the existence of evil spirits, has emphatically prohibited their invocation, on the ground that any malignant influence they may exert over man is merely the consequence of his vices, whilst the cultivators of virtue may successfully bid them defiance.  The demons here denounced are distinct from a class of demigods, who, under the name of Yakshyos, are supposed to inhabit the waters, and dwell on the sides of Mount Meru, and are distinguished not only for gentleness and benevolence but even by a veneration for Buddha, who, in one of his earlier transmigrations, was himself born under the form of a Yakshyo, and, attended by similar companions, traversed the world teaching righteousness.  One section of these demigods, however, the Rakshyos, are fierce and malignant, and in these respects resemble the Yakkas or demons so much dreaded by the Singhalese, and who, like the Ghouls of the Mahometans, are believed to infest the vicinity of graveyards, or, like the dryads and hamadryads of the ancients, to frequent favourite forests and groves, and to inhabit particular trees, whence they sally out to seize on the passer by.[1] The Buddhist priests connive at demon worship because their efforts are ineffectual to suppress it, and the most orthodox Singhalese, whilst they confess its impropriety, are still driven to resort to it in all their fears and afflictions.

[Footnote 1:  Travellers from Point de Galle to Colombo, in driving through the long succession of gardens and plantations of coco-nuts which the road traverses throughout its entire extent, will not fail to observe fruit-trees of different kinds, round the stem of which a band of leaves has been fastened by the owner.  This is to denote that the tree has been devoted to a demon; and sometimes to Vishnu or the Kattregam dewol.  Occasionally these dedications are made to the temples of Buddha, and even to the Roman Catholic altars, as to that of St. Anne of Calpentyn.  This ceremony is called Gok-band-ema, “the tying of the tender leaf,” and its operation is to protect the fruit from pillage till ripe enough to be plucked and sent as an offering to the divinity to whom it has thus been consecrated.  There is reason to fear, however, that on these occasions the devil is, to some extent, defrauded of his due, as the custom is, after applying a few only of the finest as an offering to the evil one, to appropriate the remainder to the use of the owner.  When coco-nut palms are so preserved, the fruit is sometimes converted into oil and burned before the shrine of the demon.  The superstition extends throughout other parts of Ceylon; and so long as the wreath continues to hang upon the tree, it is presumed that no thief would venture to plunder the garden.]