The period 1914–1919, though one of relative quiescence, marks a turning-point in the development of modern Arabic literature, but, in spite of the coincidence of dates, the European war was not responsible, either directly or indirectly, for initiating the change. The new element by which the change was brought about was the rise of a distinctive Egyptian school of writers, which, from small beginnings in the years immediately preceding the war, gathered strength in the interval, and emerged into sudden prominence on the resumption of literary activities. To understand the significance of this movement we must look back for a moment at the situation as it was about 1912. At that time, as has been seen, there was a sharp opposition between two contrasting schools of thought in Arabic letters; on the one hand were the modernists, almost all Syrians, and Christian Syrians at that, headed by the new Syro-American school; on the other were the classicists, who still clung to the medieval Islamic tradition, and who were dominant in Egypt and in Muslim Syria. Between the two extremes were varying intermediate grades, including several writers who individually exercised considerable influence, but did not form a body sufficiently united in method or aim to counterbalance either of the opposing schools.

It has hitherto been supposed that the earliest allusion to ‘Umar Khayyām is that contained in the Chahār Maqāla of Niẓām-i‘ Arūḍī, which was written in A.H. 552, and the second allusion in point of date that contained in the Nuzhat al-Arwāḥ of Muḥammad Shahrazūrī, written about the middle of the seventh century. The latter account was edited, together with a subsidiary Persian version and Russian translation, by Professor Zhukovsky in al-Muzaffariya (St. Petersburg, 1897, pp. 327–31). Now this account of ‘Umar was taken almost verbatim, but with several extensive omissions, from the Ta’rīkh Ḥukamā’ al-Islām of Ẓahir ad-Din al-Bayhaqi, which was composed before A.H. 549, and therefore antedates by some years the noticein the Chahār Maqāla. We are indebted to Professor Weil for the kind loan of the unique manuscript of this work, now in the Berlin University Library (Petermann, ii, 737), from which the following notice has been extracted.

The following is a translation of the preface to the late Professor Zhukovsky's edition of the Persian text of Hujwīrī's Kashf al-Maḥjū b, which was published posthumously in Leningrad in 1926.

Professor Zhukovsky was already at work on this critical edition when Professor R. A. Nicholson brought out his well-known translation (Gibb Memorial Series, vol. xvii, 1911) which was based on the Lahore edition of 1903. This translation was also provided with an admirable introduction, but seeing that it is out of print and that Zhukovsky's work is inaccessible to those who do not know Russian, the editor thinks he will be rendering a service to students of Persian Ṣūfḥsm in publishing an English translation of Zhukovsky's preface. The translation, which has been made by Mr. Sidney Jerrold, contains only the literary portions of the Russian original. A considerable amount of textual criticism and discussion of sources have been omitted as being of no interest to those who have not the text before them.

Quand on lit les Upaniṣad, il arrive qu'on soit choqué par de troublantes inconséquences: à côté de développements où les idùes s'enchaînent avec force, on rencontre soudain des phrases incohérentes. II est difficile d'admettre que les anciens sages, capables de méditation prolongée, aient produit des œuvres si embrouillées. Dans certains cas, les scribes sont responsables du mauvais état des textes. Plus souvent, la pensée des vieux auteurs a été faussée sciemment par des compilateurs soucieux d'orthodoxie. Parmi les precédés qui permettent de restaurer le sens primitif, le calcul des proportions est l'un des plus importants. Examinons à cet égard la Chāndogya–Upaniṣad.

Dans les chapitres où la pensée se développe harmonieusement, on observe généralement une certaine symétrie. Par exemple, à, partir de v, 19, les cinq chapitres consécutifs présentent un exact parallélisme. Certains mots varient de l'un à l'autre, mais le raisonnement ne change pas, non plus que le nombre et la distribution des éléments.

In his very interesting article in BSOS., vol. v, pt. i, pp. 27 f. on my suggested date of the Subhāṣitâvali of Vallabhadeva (JRAS., 1927, pp. 471 f.), Professor Keith tries his best to minimize the importance of the passage in Sarvānanda's commentary, which not only makes a reference to the Kāśmīraka Vallabhadeva but actually cites verse No. 726 from his Subhāṣitârali. Professor Keith expresses his belief that the citation is “ merely an interpolation ”; but as this statement probably appeared too sweeping, he hastens to add that it is rather “ an intelligent addition of some scribe ”. This may, indeed, be a facetious way of solving the problem; but the problem does not appear to be so easy, and the question of interpolation is one on which it does not help to be dogmatic in the absence of definite and fairly conclusive evidence.

A Mong many mythological beings mentioned in Zoroastrian literature and enumerated by the late Professor Louis Casartelli in his La Philosophie religieuse du Mazdéisme, Paris, 1884, p. 120, Gõpatšōh deserves our special mention. He is the man-bull of the ancient Babylonians, adopted into the mythology of the later Zoroastrian period most probably through the intermediary of the Elamites saturated with Babylonian culture. Gōpatšōh is the name given to him in Pahlavi literature, and is said to be another name for Aγēraθ, son of Pašang and brother of Afrāsiāb, king of Turan. He resides in the country called Sōkapastān or Saukavastān, which is situated between Chinistan and Turkistan (Bundahišn, 29, 5; for the legend of Aγrēraθ, cf. Darmesteter, Zend–Avesta, ii, p. 436, No. 23). Dātistān-i-Dēnīk 90, 4, explains the name Gōpatšāh by “ king of Gōpat”, and says that Gōpat is a country coterminous with Ērān–Vej on the bank of the river Dāitīk.

The following beautiful poem was found in a MS. notebook dated 1748. The date of the poem is unknown, but it must be older than the MS. We may put it provisionally at 1650–1700. The author's name occurs in the last couplet. Nothing is known about him, and there are many poets of the name.

It has been stated many times that the principal idea in the repetition of words is that of emphasis or intensity. My observation has led me to conclude that this is incorrect, and that the true sense in almost every case is one of the following:—

distribution (over time, space, or a number of objects), pleasantness, no meaning at all.

In order to make the inquiry practical, it is better to confine it to cases of words repeated without alteration. If anyone will in the course of his reading take 1,000 consecutive instances of repetition, he will find that (i) short words are repeated far oftener than long,(ii) repetition of adjj. or advv. with a pleasant meaning is much commoner than of those with a nasty meaning, and when the meaning may be either good or bad, the good is intended,(iii) nearly every instance comes under either distribution or pleasantness.

In the teaching of Indian languages much confusion is caused by the invention of names for ideas which either have well known names already, or do not require any name. This makes otherwise useful grammatical notes very obscure, and causes actual unfairness in examinations because candidates are often unfamiliar with the terms employed. We should avoid attaching labels to the words, constructions, and phrases of the language we are teaching, and when a name is necessary it should be one already known from English or Latin.

I take a few illustrations at random from Platts's Grammar. Under verbs we find acquisitives, potentials, inceptives, permissives, completives, desideratives, continuatives, frequentatives, staticals, and reiteratives. It will hardly be believed that most of these names have been coined to indicate one or, at the most, two words. Thus acquisitives means pānā alone; potential means saknā; inceptive, lagnā; permissive, denā; completive, cuknā; desiderative, cāhnā (and magna !); continuative, jānā and rahnā; so far we have had seven unnecesary and, for the most part, uncouth names to indicate eight or nine words, nearly one special name per word.

The causal of an intransitive verb means to cause someone or something to perform the action which the intr. verb indicates: calnā “ function ”, calānā “ cause something to function ”. About this there is no debate. The question of causals of tr. verbs is not so easy. It is important to be entirely practical, and if we cannot get universal rules we must try to make general rules helpful to both students and scholars. To this end we must, as far as possible, use well-known words, and use them in their ordinary sense. New grammatical terms or old ones with new meanings are, worse than useless. A student says: “ How am I to express ‘; make him sleep, make him do it ’ ? May I say usko sulāo, usko karāo ? If not, tell me what to say, and give me a rule for it which I can easily follow.” He is entitled to a reply; more than that, he is entitled to a reply which will be. of real use to him.

In the Mongolian language we often find two, three, or even four verbs in succession without a single conjunction between them. When analysing a continuous chain of verbs, it is best to consider two consecutive verbs at a time, for the circumstances in which such a combination is made can be brought under the following three headings:—

1. Sequential—two verbs denote actions in sequence, as, for example, nadur irejü ögüleṙün, He came to me and said …;

2. Adverbial—the first of the two verbs is merely adverbial, usually expressing the manner 1 in which the action denoted by the second verb is performed, as, for example, uyilan jor010D;cibai, They went away crying;

3. Auxiliary—the second of the two verbs is auxiliary to the principal verb, as, for example, bi čimayi alaqu bui, I shall (lit. am) kill thee.

Of these three cases the most interesting is undoubtedly the last, i.e. the auxiliary use of a limited number of verbs with certain welldefined meanings, an exact parallel being found in other Eastern languages.

The results of cultural anthropological study among the people of the Sudan and Sahara do not always yield definite and conclusive results with regard to ethnic groupings and cultural contacts in the past. On the other hand the Sudanese migrations and contacts of the past as portrayed in the bizarre, and often allegorical stories told by the Sudanese people themselves with regard to their origins and antecedents, often seem so much open to doubt in European eyes, that an enquirer is apt to think that the ethnographical record of most of the northern half of Africa is so blurred with contradictions, and so confused by inaccuracy, as to be undecipherable.

The following poem was copied for me in 1912 by Muhammad bin Abubakar bin ‘Umar (Muhamadi Kijuma) of Lamu. The author was one ‘Umar bin Amin, a blind Sharif of Siu, said (in 1913) to have died “ about fifty or sixty years ago ”. This information was furnished by Ahmad bin Abubakar bin ‘Umar es-Siwi, of Mambrui, who added that ‘Umar recovered his sight on completing the poem ! His name, by a not uncommon practice, is spelt out in the final stanza. So far as the poem shows any linguistic peculiarities, these belong to the Lamu dialect, which differs considerably from the poet's native speech of Siu. This may be due to its passing through the hands of Lamu copyists, or, more probably to the deliberate adoption of what was considered to be a more literary form of language.

Whether or not the text has been corrupted here and there, I find some obscurities which I have been unable to translate. These I have left with a query, in the hope that some reader in East Africa may be able to elucidate them. Some allowance, moreover, has to be made for poetical licence, in view of the difficulties of this very artificial kind of composition.

bakεndεkε (1) dzisolo. (2) bakomi (3) omolako, They went fishing. They arrived at a fishing-camp,

balambi (3) bilεtibakalε. (4) ηkumbajoti: they cooked food so they were going to eat. The tortoise he so:

“ tobomba (5) bilε; tokεndε (6) boodzisolo. “ let us put aside the food; let us go first to the dzisolo.

wautaka (7) biunansalatokalε.” (4) (when) shall have come out we with hunger we shall eat.”

lokulukokoaambi(3); bakwedzidza(8) ηkandu (9) obwato. (10) The pheasant agreed; they put the hurdles into the canoe.

mwanawalokulukokoaikadzi (11) omolako. The little one of the pheasant stayed in the fishing-camp.

badziηgi (3) dzisolo, baabi (3) nsolo, i'idzi They surrounded the dzisolo, they cut the grass, they were

njε (12). finished entirely.

Persia is the land of imamzadehs or “ the tombs of saints ”. Nearly every little town in this country is the fortunate possessor of one or more imamzadehs, to which hundreds of pilgrims come all the year round from far and near. The tomb, or very often a simulacre of the tomb, as in the case of a good many imamzadehs no saint lies buried in it, forms its chief part, its sanctuary. There is hardly a sign of its orientation, except that the saint is buried with his face in the direction of the Kibleh. The shrine in which the tomb is placed is generally decorated by a dome. To this the imamzadehs of theprovince of Khuzistan in the south-west of Persia form a remarkable exception. They have all a tall cone, surmounting the flat roof of the shrine. This cone resembles a pine-cone with its series of shallow niches, which forms its only decoration. It ends in a short pointed metallic rod adorned with four metallic balls. This gilt ornament is common to most of the mosques and Muhammadan shrines.

It has been my happy privilege to contribute a paper to the volume of Indian Studies lately published in honour of my old friend Professor Lanman. It was an English translation of the Indian legend of the Birth of Lōrik, and, in the following pages, I endeavour to complete the presentation by giving the original text on which that translation was founded.

In the Province of Bihār, and in the United Provinces of Agra and Audh, the Gōwālās (Gōpālakas) or Ahīrs (Abhīras) are well known as an important pastoral tribe. Their caste-profession is cattlekeeping and selling milk and its products, and, though the milk they sell is not always free from suspicion—witness many proverbs—they are, as a body, looked upon with some consideration. There is a famous tribal legend concerning an Ahīr named Lōrik that is very popular among them, and the long folk-epic describing his birth and adventures is sung at all their festivals. A Bihār proverb runs:—