In the final chapter of his novel, The First Circle, Alexander Solzhenitsyn extols the virtues of the felt boot: “A pair of felt boots are the two best friends a prisoner will ever have … Woe then to anyone whose feet are not shod in felt boots! … But the prisoner wearing his own felt boots has not a care in the world.” Solzhenitsyn writes for those unfamiliar with the extremes faced by the society he is describing. Similarly, but far removed in time, we are accustomed to learning a great deal more about the uses of felt among nomadic peoples from travellers who have purportedly visited them than we do from such rare accounts as The Secret History of the Mongols (SH) which emanate from sources close to the nomads themselves.

About four miles from Larnaca, in Cyprus, on the western shore of thegreat salt lake from which the town. (Túzla) takes its Turkish name, standsthe Khálat-i-Sulṭán Tekyé, a much - frequented Moslem shrine. The situation is picturesque. The noble outline of the mountain of the Holy Cross (Santa Croce or Stavro Vouni) bounds the view on the west; andthe domes and minaret, embowered in. garden and grove, are not without grace, especially when seen reflected in the still waters of the lake. The shrine is held in great veneration by Moslems of every country; vessels carrying the Ottoman flag salute it as they pass, and the gardens are a favourite place of resort on Musalmán holidays. The whole is dedicated to a lady known as Umm Ḥarámbint Milḥán, whose body lies in this holy place.

The modern city of Ch'üan-Chou, in the Province of Fukien, China, and Situated Near to Amoy on the Formosa Strait, was from the tenth to the fifteenth centuries the chief port for the ocean-going trade between China and the West, particularly during the Sung (A.D. 960–1280) and the Yüan (A.D. 1280–1368) dynasties. An extensive and lucrative trade was carried on with Java, Sumatra, India, and the Persian Gulf. Through Arabic, Persian, and Syriac speaking intermediaries precious products of China found their way on to the European markets. In the thirteenth century the city of Zaitún, as it was known in the West, excited the admiration and wonder of the Polos, the early Franciscan missionaries, and Muslim travellers by the size and wealth of its commercial undertakings. With the fall of the Mongol (Yüan) dynasty about the middle of the fourteenth century the city fell on evil times from which it never fully recovered, for though some considerable trade was carried on during the Ming and Ch'ing dynasties, Ch'üan-chou as an international port declined, and its great rival, Canton, grew from the time that Portuguese traders were allowed to establish themselves at Macao.

To the curious book of which the full title stands at the head of this article, I have already alluded in my communication to the Journal of January, 1899, on The Sources of Dawlatsháh, pp. 51–53. I now propose to give such account of its contents as is possible within the limits here prescribed. For this purpose I have made use of the Cambridge Codex (belonging to the Burckhardt Collection) marked QQ. 225. Though the book is a rare one, at least three other manuscripts are known — two in the British Museum (see the old Arabic Catalogue, pp. 418 and 581) and one (marked A. 1741) at Gotha. The last was used by Professor Nöldeke, in his reference to the Niháyat, at pp. 475–476 of his excellent Geschichte … der Sasaniden. He describes it as “in the main a quite arbitrary recension of Dínawarí, though here [namely, in the Romance of Bahrám Chúbin] it had before it an essentially fuller text than this,” and briefly characterizes it as “das seltsame, ziemlich schwindelhafte Werk.”

Britain's tentatively built diplomatic ties with Tibet received a jolt on 28 June 1913 when four Tibetan boys and their chaperone Kusho Lungshar went to meet George V, King of England and Emperor of India at Buckingham Palace. Lungshar and the boys brought with them an extensive range of gifts and letters from the thirteenth Dalai Lama, inadvertently giving the British government a diplomatic headache: not only could this potentially have been interpreted as a breach of the 1907 Anglo-Russian Convention, but what should be given in return? By bringing together recently identified objects and archives now located in the British Museum, the British Library and the Victoria and Albert Museum, this paper will focus on the products of this encounter: the gifts. They will be considered here as statements of independence, signifiers of ‘Tibetanness’ and as examples of the developing protocols constructed by Britain in response to its encounter with Tibet.2

Halper 331 is the fragment of a codex that has been styled the ‘oldest dated document of the Cairo Genizah’. It preserves the opening of a Jewish legal document dated to the year 1182 (Seleucid era), which appears to have been copied into this codex, probably as a formulary, not long after this date, in the late 9th century. In this article, the text of this fragment, in Aramaic and Hebrew, is edited, and its identification as the beginning of a marriage contract (ketubbah) is evaluated. Its Egyptian provenance is questioned, partly because the earliest evidence for the introduction of the Seleucid era by Jews in Egypt dates from the mid-10th century. The article surveys the history of Jewish dating methods in early medieval Egypt and the Near East, in an attempt to clarify this question. The specific date of the document deviates from the rabbinic calendar, but agrees with that of the contemporary Jewish Near Eastern sectarian groups of Abū ʿImrān al-Tiflīsī and Ismāʿīl al-ʿUkbarī; this document could thus uniquely attest one of these sectarian Jewish calendars.

This article seeks to reconstruct the prevailing concepts, images and principles that framed sovereign governance in the Mughal and Ottoman empires in the early seventeenth century. Little is known about the subject. To help fill the gap, two contemporaneous advice-to-kings treatises—one Mughal by ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq Dihlavī, one Ottoman by Koçi Bey—are analysed in juxtaposition. Such an analysis, never previously undertaken, is motivated and guided by a novel approach. In this approach, a model founded on near-universal conditions and problems is deployed within a regional perspective. The findings which result advance our understanding of the art of governance in the Mughal and Ottoman empires of the time. But they have a larger importance, too. They move us closer to achieving a break with the decline paradigm, whose logic still persists in mainstream interpretations. They also contribute to a more recent, and rapidly developing, interest in a region spanning much of South Asia and the Middle East that was formative for the global genesis of the modern world.

In 1950 this journal published Charles Boxer's description of the Codex that bears his name and is now in the Lilly Library in Bloomington, Indiana. In this article I shed light on a number of questions about the volume that he left unanswered. The plan of the essay is as follows. First, I recapitulate the nature, composition and contents of the Codex, and its associations with Chinese artists. Next, I turn to evidence that the explorer Quíros saw the manuscript in the court in Madrid no later than 1610; in particular I compare the text of his Summary relation with part of the Boxer Codex. Finally, an examination of the binding shows the Codex was only bound in Madrid, strongly suggesting how and when it got to Spain.

En, 1887, Léon Heuzey consacra au kaunakès une étude fondamentale dont il n'est pas superflu de reproduire ici les passages essentiels, car cet article n'est pas mentionné dans plusieurs travaux récents dont j'aurai ci-après à discuter les conclusions.

In continuation of my previous notes on the Portuguese in India and Arabia, I propose to deal with three Muhammedan chiefs who played an important part in the history of the Portuguese between the years 1517 and 1538, namely:—

1. Salmán Ra'ís.

2. Sulaymán Pasha al-Khádim, Governor of Cairo.

3. Khwája Ṣafar, Khudáwand Khán.

Casual references in the chronicles of the time show that the Turkish kings of Delhi recognized, and on occasion utilized, the local functionaries—the headmen and registrar accountants of villages and parganas—who formed an integral part of the Hindu administrative system. No references to these functionaries have been traced under the Afghan kings, but they reappear in the Mogul period, the literature of which enables us to form some idea of the position and duties, as then understood, of three out of the four. The village headman, renamed muqaddam, represented the village in its dealings with the officials, and he was required in particular to be active in agricultural development by bringing the waste land of the village under the plough. The village registrar-accountant, who retained his Hindī name of paṭwārī, kept the records and accounts of the village, and was required to assist the officials in the assessment and collection of the revenue. In the same way the registrar-accountant of the pargana, renamed qānūngo, kept the records of the pargana; and when assessment was made on the village as a unit, his estimate of its capacity to pay was one of the indispensable data. The remaining functionary, the chaudhrī or headman of the pargana, scarcely appears in the chronicles of the period, while the administrative literature contains practically nothing to show what he was expected to do, or how he was remunerated; indeed the only reference to him which has been traced in the Āīn-i Akbarī is the statement (Jarrett, ii, 228) that in the province of Berār the chaudhrī was known as desmukh. This statement shows that the chaudhrī was a familiar figure in the north, but it shows nothing more.

This article explores the engagement of the Pakistani Jamaʿat-i Islami (JI) with the Iranian Revolution. I argue that the Islamist JI was drawn to the events because it reflected a core concern and signature idea of Abu ’l-Aʿla Maududi, namely to establish the sovereignty of God (hakimiyya) on earth. My analysis of various travelogues and JI publications from the 1980s demonstrates that JI observers were deeply familiar with internal revolutionary dynamics and Iran's Shiʿi identity. The prospect of seeing a proper Islamic system in action, with potentially global consequences for their cause, initially crowded out any sectarian concerns for the JI. At the same time, certain JI leaders began to voice criticism of what they perceived as rash revolutionary policies that differed from Maududi's careful, irenic understanding of a proper Islamic revolution. They also took note of sectarian messages that damaged Iran's ecumenical outreach. It was, however, the more general geopolitical climate in the Middle East and South Asia which forced the JI to publicly downplay its ties with Iran. By the late 1980s, being accused of harbouring affinities for the ‘deviant Islam’ of Shiʿism was a charge that had to be avoided at all costs in Pakistan and beyond.

This article studies the political and symbolic importance of elephants for medieval Muslim kingship in South Asia. Specifically, the incorporation of the elephant by the Ghaznavid dynasty led to a crisis of sovereignty for early Muslim kings of South Asia. This was because while the elephant stood for divinity and sovereignty among Hindus, it represented satanic pride among Muslims. The famous Koranic chapter of “the elephant”, tells the story of a king Abraha who had tried to destroy the House of God in Arabia (the Ka‘ba) with elephants, but it was said that God pelted his army to death by small pebbles thrown by birds. This meant that any Indo-Muslim ruler that posed as an elephant-master could appear as the destroyer of the house of God in the eyes of his Muslim subjects. In order to compensate for this crisis, early Indo-Muslim rulers employed a number of tactics, which included trying to present themselves as the opposite, i.e. destroyer of pagan temples for which they are infamous today. But perhaps more significantly, the continued symbolic (and not just practical) use of the elephant, in spite of its problematic association, shows that what is often today understood as an alien institution imposed upon a majority non-Muslim population, was actually the opposite: that is, it was mainly a project equally pitched to non-Muslim South Asians with a compensatory nudge toward Muslims.

Robert Morrison (1782–1834; Chinese name: Maˇ Liˇxùn) was the London Missionary Society's first representative in China and is generally viewed as the father of Protestant missionary work there. Modern scholarly interest in him has in the main focused on his role as a Bible translator (see, for example, Zetzsche 1999, especially Chapter 2). As part of his missionary activities, Morrison studied both written and spoken Chinese; and these researches yielded grammars of both Mandarin (i.e. Guānhuà “the language of the mandarins or officials”; Morrison, 1815) and Cantonese (1815: appendix, pp. 259–280), plus a major dictionary of written Chinese (1815–1823) and a smaller lexicon of Cantonese (1828). In order to transcribe spoken Chinese, Morrison developed romanisations for both Mandarin and Cantonese. These orthographic systems shed light on the pronunciation of the underlying languages as they were spoken two hundred years ago. The purpose of the present paper is to examine Morrison's romanisation of Mandarin for clues about the pronunciation of early nineteenth-century standard Chinese.

Within the last decade of years, the museums of France and England have been enriched by numerous monuments of Assyrian art, that clearly show the soil from which they were obtained was peopled by a race who, to its warlike habits, added many of the refinements of civilized life. The researches of Botta and Layard—so far as lapidary tablets are capable of conveying the economy of a nation—hare familiarised us in some measure with the public rites and ceremonies of the Assyrians, as well as given an insight into their more domestic concerns; and the pens of these travellers have further elucidated the subject in a manner of which the praise of the public is guarantee to the ability displayed, while the monuments themselves, as patents of their energy, remain in the capitals of Europe, until, in the course of time, they share in the fate of their Assyrian predecessors. Profoundly indifferent, however, to such an event, our savans are in the mean time labouring to unravel the mystic characters engraved on the records so lately revealed to ua; and such is the progress made, that we may shortly expect to be as cognizant of the deeds of the “stouthearted king and the glory of his high looks,” as we are conversant with the celebrities of Greece or Rome. The only desideratum wanting, it appears, to complete the picture of Assyria, is a faithful sketch of her aspect in desolation, when she is “empty, and void, and waste; when flocks lie down in the midst of her; and when her rivers are opened, and her palace is dissolved.” This we have endeavoured to supply in the three maps of the vestiges of Assyria, made from actual survey of the spot. Topography, however, is a dry subject, and we enter upon it with diffidence and reluctance.

The subjoined catalogue describes a collection comprising 368 separate texts mainly in Sanskrit, which were collected by Dr. M. A. Stein and acquired at his expense chiefly at Śrīnagar during his visits to Kashmir between 1888 and 1905. Apart from texts needed by Dr. Stein for his labours, during 1888–99, on his critical edition and annotated translation of Kalhana's Rājataraṅgiṇī, numerous MSS. were purchased by him either to assist the work of fellow-scholars in Europe or on account of their philological or palæographical interest.

In the discussion on the date of Kanishka which took place last year much prominence was given to the so-called Vikrama era of 58 B.C., and arguments were put forward by those who favoured an early date for Kanishka to prove, not only that this era was founded by him, but that all the recorded dates of the Śaka, Pahlava, and Kushan rulers of Northern India are referable to it. Some discoveries which I have recently made at Taxila throw, I think, fresh light on this question, and, though they do not settle precisely the date of Kanishka, appear to prove that he was not at any rate the founder of the era of 58 B.C. and could not have come to the throne until the close of the first century A.D. or later.

In China the corpse of a Buddhist priest is commonly disposed of by one of three methods, viz.: cremation, burial, or preservation by drying.