We have now given the rule of the first stage concerning understanding what is heard and applying it; and also the rule of the second stage concerning the ecstasy which is encountered in the heart; so let us now give what of it oozes to the outside, consisting of cries and weeping and movements and rending of clothes, etc. So we say

The story of Ráma is one that has fascinated all generations of Hindus, and is full of interest for us. Apart, however, from its charm as a story, it presents a picture of ancient India, which is in many respects unique, and suggests perplexing questions of history, mythology, social life, topography, etc. Many of those questions permit of endless debate and little solid result, for there is no firm ground to rest upon, but the geographical questions are in a better position. India has been surveyed most accurately and completely, and we know that what it is now, it was in ancient times, except that changes have occurred in the courses of some rivers in the plains of North India; and these changes may often be detected. There is plenty of the fabulous in Hindu geography, but it is confined, as a rule, to outside lands, and the allusions to purely Indian topography are generally sober. The main features of the country were adequately known in very early times. The Aryans were well acquainted with all North India as far as the confines of Bengal proper, and the chief mountains and rivers of South India were known. Wars and caravans (of which we have a graphic instance in the story of Nala), helped greatly in opening out new territories as in all lands and ages, but it was the religious ascetics who were the pioneers in discovery, and who appear to have contributed most to a knowledge of the country.

The interesting and scholarly volume of Mr. McCrindle, recently published by A. Constable and Co., invites an attempt to settle more precisely the line on which Alexander reached the bank of the Indus. Mr. McCrindle loses the clue when Alexander reaches Nikaia. This place he is inclined to fix somewhere near Bagraâm, and he thinks that a part of Alexander's troops then passed through the Khaibar to the district called Peukelaôtis, somewhere near Hashtnagar on the river Landai. The formation of the country makes such a course improbable; but Mr. McCrindle admits that the geography of Kâfiristân, Chitrâl, and Swât is too little known to enable him to trace the course of the Macedonian army at this point. I will here try to supply that information.

It is well known that the style and character of melody, with the tonalities and scales upon which it is composed, differ in different ages and countries to a great extent; and it is obvious that a more perfect acquaintance with these than that which we possess, would be of great consequence to the art of music in various ways. Those forms of melody which are solely recognised as legitimate, according to the modern European system, may possibly be the best which can be adopted; but this can only be known for certain by an extensive comparison with other systems. The furtherance of such inquiries, therefore, may lead to a direct improvement in the cultivation of music, while there can be no doubt that the resources of that art would be immensely enriched by a more complete knowledge of the different styles of melody which prevail in foreign countries, and copious and authentic collections of the airs themselves.

This article is an attempt to establish critically the synchronisms which appear to exist between the mediaeval portion of the Ceylon chronicle Mahāvaṁsa and the results of South Indian epigraphical research. The definite dates to which a number of Chōḷa and Pāṇḍya kings can now be assigned are due to the laborious and difficult calculations of my late friend Kielhorn, while several of the synchronisms were discovered by another old friend and fellow-worker, Rai Bahadur V. Venkayya, the melancholy news of whose sudden death at Madras on November 21, 1912, reached me while I was collecting materials for this article from his learned Reports.

The Khalkha River (Khalkhin Gol), which forms part of the north-east frontier between the Mongolian People–s Republic (MPR) and the People's Republic of China (PRC), is famous in Mongolian history for the 1939 Battle of Khalkhin Gol (Nomonhan), in which joint Mongolian-Soviet forces finally repulsed the attempted invasion of the MPR by the Japanese Army of Manchukuo. Less well known, however, is the existence on the left bank of that river of one of Mongolia's most interesting religious antiquities, the remains of a gigantic Buddhist statue, known as the Great Buddha (Ikh Burkhan).

Among the ancient monuments of India, few are of more interest than the tōps or stūpas at Sāñchi - Kānākheḍā, about 5½ miles south-west from Bhelsā or Bhilsā, in the Gwāliar territory, and some 20 miles north-east of the capital of the Bhopāl State. There is now a railway station close to the spot, and most of the trains stop there. The various notices of the remains here are scattered in numerous publications, and some notice of them may perhaps be usefully combined with the history of the stūpas since their discovery.

The problem tackled in this article is ambitious. Through examination of how certain fundamental teachings of the Buddha originated – the author argues that those teachings must indeed go back to the Buddha himself. Thus the author builds a chain of argument which creates hypothetical links rather than declaring ‘a priori’ that links and connection cannot be established.

This article argues that the Alagaddūpama Sutta, an important early Buddhist text, portrays the Buddha in the process of formulating his thoughts. If so it contradicts the myth that the Buddha awakened to the entire Buddhist Dharma on one occasion, and should be dated to the fourth century bce. Such an antiquity, and peculiar didactic structure suggests that the text contains authentic teachings of the Buddha.

The Rev. Dr A.A. Führer lived to the age of seventy-seven. Herein is examined his first forty years. Trained as an Oriental Linguist, Führer eventually found employment as a field archaeologist. Three years after his appointment, the Archaeological Survey of India entered the worst crisis of its existence. Führer reacted in ways incompatible with scholarly integrity. It remains to be seen whether he committed further transgressions and or forgeries during his final thirty-seven years.

In the volume of the Journal of the Royal Asiatio Society for the year 1848, is to be found a paper descriptive of such coins of the Sultáns of Ghazní as chanced to form part of the varied numismatic accumulations of Mr. Masson, gleaned, under his personal superintendence, chiefly to the northward of the metropolitan province from which the dynasty takes its name.

Recent work among the Sippar Collections of the British Musuem has brought to light a number of interesting texts, among which is the fragment BM 63570. This text lists the qīpu's of numerous temples along with other officials, associating them all with bundles of reeds measured in hundreds. This is of unusual interest, however it is not the first time such a text has come to light as a similar fragment, BM 68777, was identified and published by the present author in 1993. Indeed, without a doubt the two pieces belong to the same tablet. BM 68777 is the beginning of the text, while BM 63570 carries on the obverse from this after a very small break and then gives some lines from the top of the reverse. The reverse of BM 68777 was uninscribed.

This article discusses a story that has enjoyed a long life in scholarly literature, drama, and the visual arts: the alleged caging of the Ottoman Sultan Bayezid I Yildirim (r. 1389–1402) by the Central Asian conqueror, Temür (r. 1370–1405). Attention is focused on the evolution of scholarly discourse on the existence (or otherwise) of the cage. The period from the late seventeenth to the first half of the twentieth century is looked at in particular detail. The debate around the captivity of Bayezid is only fully understood when it is located within a larger historical framework, namely the changing political relationships between Christian Europe and the Ottoman Empire from the fall of Constantinople in 1453 until the nineteenth century.

An aerial city in the north is detrimental to the court priest; one in the east, is so to the sovereign; one in the south, to the commander of the troops; one in the west, to the prince royal. A white one is pernicious to Brahmans, a crimson one to Kshatriyas, a yellow one to Vaiçyas, and a dusky one to Çûdras.

This article examines the conduct of Richard Goodlad, the East India Company's collector in Rangpur, north Bengal, upon the outbreak of a peasant rebellion in his district during 1783. It uses his reaction to this event to illustrate the nature of the Company's district bureaucracy and its relationship with the central colonial authorities in Calcutta during the later eighteenth century.

The article considers the aims and limitations of the European officials who were sent out to administer Bengal's districts, detailing their priorities and practices within a weak and decentralised state structure. Ultimately it argues that the relationship between these local and central components of the colonial state was, prior to the Company's rise to subcontinental hegemony in the early nineteenth-century, profoundly shaped both by widespread military under-resourcing, and by the primacy of personal interest among its local officials.