This paper is part of an ongoing investigation into the nature of grammatical relations in the Sino-Tibetan language family. The ultimate goal of this investigation is to develop a hypothesis on the typological nature of word order and grammatical relations in the mother language which gave rise to all of the many languages within the Sino Tibetan language family. As the verb agreement (pronominalization) systems of Tibeto-Burman have been said to be a type of ergative marking, and to have been a part of Proto-Tibeto-Burman grammatical relations, the questions of the dating and nature of the agreement systems in Tibeto-Burman are relevant to the discussion of the nature of grammatical relations in Proto-Sino-Tibetan.

The purpose of this Note is to make available to scholars the text of a new letter by Sir William Jones (1746–94) to Richard Johnson (1753–1807), recently discovered in an antiquarian book and manuscript catalogue issued in 1924 by Maggs Brothers, the London dealers, and otherwise unpublished and unrecorded.

Johnson, an important though neglected figure in the history of the British ‘discovery’ of Hinduism, held a number of influential posts within the East India Company's administration during his sojourn in India from 1770 to 1790. But it is for his investigations into Indian literature and music, including his substantial and important collection of Indian miniatures and Persian and Sanskrit manuscripts, that he deserves to be better known.

Stefan Maul has presented Assyriology with a model study of an important genre of liturgical texts, the so-called eršahunga-prayers designed to still the heart of an angry god. The texts appear in autograph copies and transliterations, with lucid translations, useful philological notes, and a comprehensive glossary. The present reviewer has not checked the copies, since M.-C. Ludwig has collated the British Museum tablets for her own review of this volume.

Maul's introduction to the eršahunga-prayers offers a brief survey of the genre, although the discussion is somewhat too specialized for the general reader unfamiliar with Assyriology. There is a need for a review of both Sumerian and Akkadian prayer which addresses the relationship between prayer and incantation, since both genres can appear together in certain types of apotropaic rituals. The problem of appeasing an angry god, for instance, was a theme common to both liturgy and incantations. The eršahunga, ‘lament to still the heart’, is paralleled by incantations known as dingir-šà-dib-ba gur-ru-da ‘(incantations) to appease the angry god’, composed as a confessional of unwitting sins. It is not clear when one would recite an eršahunga-prayer or a dingir-šà-dib-ba incantation, since both types of texts attempt to appease a god who is angered by some unspecified or unknown transgression. The eršahunga is typically composed in the Emesal dialect of Sumerian associated primarily (but not exclusively) with prayer and cultic texts, while exorcistic incantations are composed in the main Sumerian dialect (Emegir) of literary texts; both of these genres appear in the first millennium with Akkadian translations. It is possible that the distinction between prayer and incantation simply represents professional divisions between the kalû (lamentation priest) and the āšipu (exorcist), but it is not easy to define the conditions in which the various types of prayers and incantations were employed.

Many years ago the late Dr. Samuel Stern brought to my attention an item preserved among the Geniza documents in the Cambridge University Library. I remember that we used it as part of the illustrative material for a joint course of lectures on medieval Islamic administration, during which I, very much the junior partner, benefited greatly from his experience and store of knowledge. Stern himself intended to publish this piece, but had also brought it to the notice of Dr. Hassanein Rabie who used it, not entirely accurately, in his The financial system of Egypt, A.H. 564–741/A.D. 1169–1341 Rabie did not publish the text and, as far as I know, no one else ever has, although Geoffrey Khan has briefly referred to the titulature of the addressee. It seems worthwhile to do so now, after such a long interval, because of the intrinsic interest of this document.

In an article concerning the prehistory of Kelantan G. Benjamin provided an etymology for the toponym ‘Lebir’ as deriving from the Old Mon [OM] word for ‘sea, river’, OM Iḅir, Iḅīr, modern Mon LM ḅś, SM /бi/. He went on to say that there is evidence to assume early Malay–Mon contacts; in fact, it was only by the twelfth century A.D. that a language-shift at the expense of Mon occurred in an area of what is today southern Thailand and northern Malaysia. By implication this might also mean that there were contacts between groups speaking Aslian languages and Mon.

In support of his hypothesis Benjamin referred to epigraphic evidence, in particular to Mon inscriptions from southern Thailand as the earliest written in any vernacular. In fact, there are only two inscriptions, previously claimed to be written in Mon, Nś. 2, discovered in 1971, from Nakhorn Sri Thammarat [Ligor] and Nś. 3 from the same area. The Thai Government's Fine Arts Department [FAD] dates Nś. 2 to the later half of the thirteenth century A.D., at a time when Benjamin assumes the language-shift Mon > Malay/Thai in the peninsula to have already taken place. But the difficulty is not only how to reconcile the comparatively late date—based on palaeographical grounds—with Benjamin's chronological framework; the inscription is largely illegible and classed by the FAD in its most recent publication as written in ‘Old Mon and Old Burmese’. The other inscription which the FAD has interpreted as Old Mon is Nś. 3/RIS XXVII, dated by Cœdès to the sixth century. But Cœdès himself was unable to determine the language of this one line inscription, and it cannot be ascribed to Old Mon.

Pelliot Tibétain (Pell. T.) no. 997, in Choix de Documents Tibétains, Biblioth`que Nationale (Paris, 1978), concerns the inventory of the property of Yu-lim gtsug-lag-khang in the Kva-cu district on Tibet's north-east frontier with China. It is in two parts. The first gives instructions for the revising of the existing inventory which had apparently suffered from some laxity in the past; the second is the fragmentary and somewhat damaged list of the subjects, cattle, crops and movable property, domestic and agricultural, of the lha-ris—the monastic estate. Sadly, it does not include the images, religious vessels, ornaments, etc. of the chapel.

Heaven has its material for slaughter. Among animals, they are the sheep, the pigs, the chickens and the ducks; among men, they are the short and slight, ugly, mean-eyed, short-stepped, garrulous, effeminate, stupid people.

As is well known, the Secret History is the only surviving source on the rise of the Mongol empire produced by the Mongols themselves, yet controversy continues to surround its value, its purpose, even its date. The fullest and earliest attested version of the text does not even survive in the Uyghur script employed by the Mongols, but only in a transcription into Chinese characters, accompanied by Chinese translation; a transposition carried out at an unkown date under circumstances which are not entirely clear. Chinese sources, it is true, have been used to throw a certain amount of light on the transmission of the Secret History, notably in a lengthy and detailed article published forty years ago by William Hung,1 but as the summary by F. W. Cleaves of the problems surrounding this evidence in the introduction to his translation of the Secret History makes abundantly clear,2 much has remained a matter for conjecture.