and which could be stirred only where he was concerned. With his undeserved death, at the threshold of a promise of a better and happier life, that depth is lashed to storm.

Mādavi is privileged to attract. She is privileged to sell herself to the highest bidder, irrespective of the type of man. She uses her privileges. Kovalan's wealth, apparently, is his real trap. But having bought her, his artistic mind quickly succumbs to the fascination of her pretty ways. She dances, sings and enslaves him with her moods. We catch him protesting, however, when she dances in public. How pretty is her sending the letter to Kovalan, written in a flower-petal, hidden in a garland! Poor Kaṇṇahi never wrote. Probably she was not expected to know to write. But once Mādavi was rejected, Kovalan was not to be tempted. Looking at the letter, he only commented acidly: 'Very pretty, like all her acting.' Actually that was shabby injustice to Mādavi, for she really loved him with all her heart, and after his death, caused by her own extravagances that drove him to sell jewellery in Madura, she atoned for her sin by turning nun, persuading the daughter she bore him to be a nun as well. Still we are glad she did not succeed in keeping Kovalan any longer from his wife. Only, it was not her fault that she was born a prostitute's daughter.

As for the hero, he is affectionate, brave, handsome and very accomplished. However, he is no proof against the vices of society, his very love of music and dancing drawing him towards accomplished womanhood. Kaṇṇahi is certainly not accomplished enough for him, and he has to suffer before he makes her sober, sterling qualities suffice for the needs of his poetic heart. And for Kovalan, the poet is not afraid of tainting his character with making him the centre of attraction for women. Many a woman may sicken for his love, he may think nothing of buying a mistress or abandoning his wife, but he is good enough for Kaṇṇahi. That he is sensitive to Kaṇṇahi's graces of character and that he loves her in his own poetic way, there is no doubt. After Mādavi's spell has snapped, there is evidence of his even being purged into a firmer nature.

Of the minor characters, Kaundi Aḍiha˜ stands foremost. She is not a superfluity, though she finds no place in later versions of the story. She is not a mere instrument of Jain propaganda. In her ideas and in the way she responds to the grace and nobility of Kaṇṇahi, she seems to stand for the author himself. She takes with her an atmosphere of benignity. She officiates as Kaṇṇahi's protectress of her own accord, flying at the boors who have offended her darling charge. It is her officiousness, however, that makes the hero foolhardy enough to venture out alone from Mādari's house into the city of unknown peril, instead of seeking the more dependable help