With the exception of a casual mention by one of the ancient historians, nothing appears to have been known by the outside world, of the Andamanese; until Lieut. Blair, of the Indian Navy, was conducting a survey of the Andaman Islands at the close of the last century. A settlement was during his time temporarily established, first in the present Port Blair, then called Port Cornwallis, and afterwards in the present Port Cornwallis. This was, however, abandoned in a short time, owing to the unhealthiness of the climate, and with the exception of the reports of the masters of vessels, who from time to time touched at the Islands, and described the aborigines as ferocious cannibals of hideous aspect, and smeared with clay, nothing more was known of them until Dr. Mouatt, by order of Lord Canning, then Governor-General of India, went down to see about establishing a convict settlement there, and his work on the subject is the first really reliable authority we have. It is, however, necessarily far from being correct, as in a hasty tour round the Islands much information could not be gained, and, as I have often found, the first information one receives of these people is generally wrong.

It is a mistake to suppose that the first introduction of Theism into India was due to the founders of the Brāhma Samāj, or modern Theistic Churches of Bengal. Some of the oldest hymns of the Ṛig-veda are decidedly monotheistic, and all the most pronounced forms of Indian pantheism rest on the fundamental doctrine of God's unity. “There is one Being and no second,” or in other words, “Nothing really exists but the one eternal omnipresent Spirit,” was the dogma enunciated by ancient Hindū thinkers. It was a dogma accepted by the philosophical Brāhman with all its consequences and corollaries. He firmly believed himself and the Universe to be parts of the one eternal Essence, and wrapped himself up accordingly in a kind of serene indifference to all external phenomena and circumstances. Again even the ordinary Hindū who practises the most corrupt forms of polytheism is never found to deny the doctrine of God's unity. On the contrary, he will always maintain that God is essentially one, though he holds that the one God exhibits Himself variously, and that He is to be worshipped through an endless diversity of manifestations, incarnations, and material forms.

The Khitai fill a notable place in Asiatic history, and the investigation of their ethnology and early history is full of interest and value. It is also surrounded by considerable difficulties. The Khitai, or Khitans as they are otherwise known, conquered Northern China, and it was from them that mediæval geographers and travellers derived the famous name of Cathay, which has much romance about it. The Russians to this day call the Chinese Kitai. The name was perhaps introduced into Europe by the Arabs, whose adventurous merchants began to frequent the ports of China during the supremacy of the Khitai; or it may have travelled westward through the intervention of the Turkish tribes of Central Asia, who called the Khitai Khatai. They never conquered Southern China, nor did their dominion there extend apparently beyond its six northern provinces; but they made up for this by dominating over the various nomade tribes who occupied the country from the river Hurka to Turkestan, and from the Chinese wall to the country of the Tunguses. The Mongols and the tribes of Manchuria were either immediately subject to them, or tributaries; and, in fact, the history of Eastern Asia from the beginning of the tenth to that of the twelfth century was focussed about the Khitai. When their dominion in the further East was broken, as I described in a previous paper, by the Kin or Golden Tartars, a branch of their royal house founded an empire further west, known as Kara Khitai, which has already occupied our attention.

In the year 1873, having traversed Russia from Archangel to Astrakhan, from the White Sea to the borders of the Kaspian, my friend and I determined to pass homewards through Daghistân and Georgia, and thence by the Black Sea to Odessa.

Chapter XVI.—Marco Polo travelled from Yazd to Kermán viâ. Báfk. His description of the road, seven days over great plains, harbour at three places only, is perfectly exact. The fine woods, producing dates, are at Báfk itself. (The place is generally called Báft.) Partridges and quails still abound; wild asses I saw several on the western road, and I was told that there were a great many on the Báfk road. Travellers and caravans now always go by the eastern road viâ Anár and Bahrámábád. Before the Sefavíehs (i.e. before A.D. 1500) the Anár road was hardly, if ever, used; travellers always took the Báfk road. The country from Yazd to Anár, 97 miles, seems to have been totally uninhabited before the Sefavíehs. Anár, as late as A.D. 1340, is mentioned as the frontier place of Kermán to the north, on the confines of the Yazd desert. When Sháh 'Abbás had caravanserais built at three places between Yazd and Anár (Zein ud-dín, Kermánsháhán, and Shamsh), the eastern road began to be neglected.

Professor Schiefner, of St. Petersburgh, whom I met at the Fourth Oriental Congress at Florence, 1878, was good enough, to prepare for me a résumé of the languages spoken in the Caucasus, with which he was familiar: fortunately he did not delay in complying with my request, as he died before his essay was translated and published in the Proceedings of the Philological Society of London for 1879.

One of the chief difficulties which I have to encounter in the study of Old-Javanese manuscripts consists in the faulty spelling introduced by the Balinese transcribers. The Balinese language is not closely related to Javanese, the latter being a foreign language in. Bali. Only a few words are identical in both languages, while many others have in each case a more or less different form. Thus, the Old-Jav. nyû, cocoanut, is nyuh in Balinese; hence, the Balinese transcribers, finding the word nyû in a Kawi composition, change it into nyuh. Again, being unable in their own language to distinguish between u, wu and hu, all three being pronounced u, they write promiscuously uçinâra, huçinâra, wuçinâra, as well as hûçinâra or wûçinâra, so that it is difficult to say which is really the Kawi form of this name. The metre sometimes helps us in settling the spelling of a word, but this can only be in the poems called Kĕkawin (from Kawi, poet), the metre of which is essentially Indian and is regulated by long and short syllables; but, clearly, not in the poems called Kiḍung, wherein the metre is regulated by rhyme and the number of syllables. The Kiḍung are of far greater interest than the Kĕkawin, the latter being simply imitations from the Sanskrit, containing nothing about ancient Javanese life, whereas the Kiḍung, on the other hand, supply us with valuable particulars in this respect. It is, therefore, a matter of regret that the manuscripts are so faulty.

On leaving for India to accompany the army into Afghanistan in 1878, Colonel Yule, among other hints of places of interest of an archæological character to be looked out for, mentioned Nagarahara, the capital of the Jelalabad Valley in the Buddhist period. In the time of Hiouen-Thsang the district bore the same name as the capital, and it had no king of its own, but belonged to Kapisa, a city situated somewhere in the direction of Kabul. The district of Nagarahara extended to about 600 Chinese Li, from east to west, which would be over 100 miles. This might reach from about Jugduluck to the Khyber, so that in this last direction it would thus border on Gandara, and on the other extremity would touch Kapisa, which was also the name of the district as well as the capital of that name. The Valley of Jelalabad is small in comparison to that of the province which formerly belonged to it. From Darunta on the west to Ali-Boghan on the east is fifteen miles, but, on the left bank of the Kabul River, the flat land of Kamah extends the valley on that side, about five or six miles further to the east. The termination of the Valley at this place is called Mirza Kheyl, a white rocky ridge comes down close to the river, and there are remains of Buddhist masonry on it, with caves in the cliff below. On the right bank opposite Mirza Kheyl is Girdi Kas, which lies in a small valley at the northern end of a mass of hills which terminates the Jelalabad Valley on that side at Ali-Boghan, separating it from the Chardeh Plain, which again extends as far as Basawul. I got a kind of bird's-eye view of this one day from a spur of the Sufaid Koh, 8,000 feet high, near to Gundumuck, and the Jelalabad Valley and the Chardeh Plain seemed to be all one, the hills at Girdi Kas appearing at this distance to be only a few slight mounds lying in the middle of this space, which would be altogether about 40 miles in extent. When in the Jelalabad Valley, the Girdi Kas hills are undoubtedly the eastern barrier, while the Siah Koh Range is the western. The Siah Koh Range trends to the south-west, and then turns due west, forming a distinct barrier on the north till it is lost at Jugduluck; there are only some low-lying ridges between Futteeabad and Gundumuck, but they are so small that it might be said to be a continuous valley all the way from Ali-Boghan to the plain of Ishpan. The eastern end of the Siah Koh Range terminates at Darunta, which is the north-west corner of the Jelalabad Valley. The Kabul River, instead of going round the extreme end of this range, has, by some curious freak, found a way through the rocky ridge so close to the extremity, that it leaves only what might be called one vertebra of this stony spine beyond. The river here has formed for itself a narrow gorge through perpendicular cliffs, in which it flows, from the district of Lughman, into the level plain of the Jelalabad Valley. The Surkhab pours down from the Sufaid Koh, starting close to Sikaram, the highest point of the range, which our surveyors found to be 15,600 feet above the sea. It passes over the western end of the Ishpan plain, towards the Siah Koh Range, and it then keeps to the contour of its base all the way to the Jelalabad Valley, and joins the Kabul River about two miles below Darunta.

Several books lately published at Madras show that in the opinion of their authors there is something very wrong in the mode in which suits between so-called Hindûs, involving questions of so-called Hindû law, are now dealt with by the High Court of Judicature at Madras and the courts subordinate thereto. And a perusal of some of the reports of High Courts in other parts of India will lead many to suppose that a not inconsiderable part of the law made by those courts, not by the legislature, for the benefit of so-called Hindûs, is not less open to objection than are many of the doctrines promulgated in Madras. The purpose of this paper is to attempt to show that, whereas the High Court of Judicature at Madras professes, and doubtless desires to keep up, as required by the Civil Courts Act, the laws and customs of the tribes and castes subjected to its jurisdiction, it in fact imposes on them laws of its own making, and which until quite recently have not had force in any part of Jndia. To this end I shall endeavour to prove, as fully as may be possible in the little space at my command, (1) that in ancient times law, in any ordinary acceptation of the term, never was administered to Hindus by Hindûs or others; (2) that if law was administered to Hindûs in ancient times, at all events it never was administered in the kingdoms lying south of the Vindhya mountains; and (3) that if it was, it was not the law contained in the Mitâxarâ, and other books of the kind.

The word “Nirvana” expresses the doctrine of immortal hope as held by the ten Buddhist nations; the Singhalese of Ceylon, the Ghoorkas of Nepaul, the Tibetans, Mongols, Chinese, Coreans, Japanese, Cochin Chinese, Siamese, and Birmese.

In the thirteenth century A.D. the Muhammadan religion spread from India to the Malay Archipelago. Many centuries before, the commerce which was carried on between India and the Eastern Islands had been the means of familiarizing the inhabitants of the latter with the tenets of Brahmanism. These had taken root among them, at all events, wherever monarchies were established on the Hindu pattern, and had, to some extent, modified the nature or demon-worship which had previously been the sole religion of the Malay tribes. When the religion of Muhammad was established in the western regions, from which commercial intercourse was carried on with the Eastern Archipelago, it made its way gradually eastward. The Hindu rulers of petty Malay States in Sumatra and in the Peninsula of Malacca became converts, and the movement spread thenceforward uninterruptedly. At the present day all the Malay communities in reasonably accessible localities have embraced the Muhammadan religion. Some have been Muslims for centuries; among others, the adoption of this faith has been a comparatively recent event. Some Malay races, like the Dayaks of Borneo and the Battaks of Sumatra, still cling to their primitive beliefs and customs.

Once upon earth there lived a saintly king Named Hariśchandra; pure in heart and mind, In virtue eminent, he ruled the world, Guarding mankind from evil. While he reigned No famine raged, nor pain; untimely death Ne'er cut men off; nor were the citizens Of his fair city lawless. All their wealth, And power, and works of righteousness, ne'er filled Their hearts with pride; in everlasting youth And loveliness the women passed their days.

In the year 1848, I read before a Meeting of the Royal Asiatic Society one of my earliest Essays on Indian Antiquities, relating to “the Dynasty of the Sáh kings of Surashtra.”

I concluded a former essay on Mohammedan proper names with a promise of renewing the subject in another paper, which should deal with the names of women, and some other points not included in my first sketch. The system, as it is xepresented to us by Arab authors, though somewhat complicated, admits of a distinct arrangement; and each class of proper names throws light on national character and manners, -as they were developed during the first centuries of the Hejra, and have left their traces in countries over which the Arab dominion extended. My former notice touched very slightly on the meaning and etymology of old names, to which my attention was first directed. I was very soon brought to a stand by difficulties inherent in the attempt to trace the origin of ancient names, and which are enhanced in the case of those of the Arabs by the peculiarities in the structure of the language, where the meaning of words varies so much with the strength and position of the vowel-points, of all sounds the most liable to phonetic decay. The language itself has undergone a great change since the time of Mahomet, and many old words and expressions are interpreted on traditional authority.

The presence of a large number of Sanskrit words in the Malay language has often been pointed out, and the purity with which they are reproduced has been a subject of remark, showing, as it probably does, that they have been borrowed direct from the parent-language, and not from any of the Sanskrit-derived languages of India. Their sense, equally with their pronunciation, has varied little, and though many of them are more commonly met with in books than in the colloquial dialects, they are more completely part of the language than the ever-increasing crowd of Arabic words which have been introduced into it since the faith of El-Islam became established among the Malays. There is no documentary evidence, however, to show that the Sanskrit character was ever known to the Malays. What their alphabet was before the introduction of the Arabic character, or whether they ever possessed one, is unknown, though it has been conjectured that the Battak alphabet, or one closely resembling it, may have been in use among them.

Les auteurs orientaux mentionnent tant de petits dynastes dont les monuments monétaires nous sont encore inconnus qu'il n'est pas étonnant que de temps en temps quelques exemplaires nouveaux viennent au jour et nous permettent d'étendre le champ illimité de la Numismatique musulmane.

Since the publication of my paper on Indian Theistic Reformers in the January number of this Journal, I have received the following letter from Mr. Krishna Bihari Sen, brother of Mr. Keshab Chandar Sen

These inscriptions were found among the rubbish surrounding the Great Temple at Buddha-Gayâ; this rubbish had accumulated during the progress of the alterations and improvements carried out by the Burmese deputation who visited the Temple in 1877. Quoting from p. 65 of Dr. Rajendralála Mitra's work on Buddha Gayâ. we learn “that certain Burmese gentlemen, deputed by his Majesty the King of Burmah, arrived at Buddha Gayâ, at the beginning of 1877, and with the sanction of the Mahant, who is the present owner of the Great Temple and the surrounding ground, carried on demolitions and excavations round the temple, which in a manner swept away most of the old land-marks. The remains of the vaulted gateway in front of the temple had been completely demolished and the place cleared out and levelled. The stone pavilion over the Buddhapad had been dismantled and its materials cast aside on a rubbish mound at a distance. The granite plinth beside it had been removed. The sites of the chambers brought to light by Major Mead had been cleared out. The drain-pipe and gargoyle which marked the level of the granite pavement had been destroyed. The foundations of the old buildings noticed by Hiouen Thsang around the Great Temple had been excavated for bricks and filled up with rubbish. The revetment wall round the sacred Bodhi tree had been rebuilt on a different foundation on the West.

The origin of the Indian alphabet is a matter of very considerable interest and importance. Was the art of writing introduced from foreign lands, or was it an indigenous invention; and in what age did it first make its appearance? Opinions differ on these points, for there is no certain evidence; and the conclusions arrived at are based entirely on inference and probability. The balance of opinion has perhaps, hitherto, inclined to the theory of a Semitic origin, and a late writer on the subject, our learned colleague Dr. Burnell, has given a very decided opinion on that side of the question. To his judgment I pay due deference, but the arguments with which he supports it seem to me inconclusive and unsatisfactory. I propose, therefore, to review briefly the whole subject.

One of the most striking coincidences in the traditions of different Malay states is the constant recurrence of three persons as the founders of kingdoms, the authors of government and order, or the progenitors of a line of rulers. In Menangkabau, the most ancient state of Sumatra, it is related howlskandar Z'ul Karnayn (“lord of the two horns,” or the East and the West; generally identified with Alexander the Great) begot three sons named respectively Maharaja Alif, Maharaja Dipang, and Maharaja Diraja. When the three brothers had reached maturity, they proceeded on a voyage together and arrived at Ceylon, where they agreed to separate. “Then the eldest, Maharaja Alif, claimed the crown, Makota Singhatahana. And Maharaja Dipang said, ‘I too want it.’ Maharaja Diraja said, ‘It is mine, because I am the youngest.’ Then an angel descended and said, ‘Which of you is Raja? Why are ye disputing?’ And they replied, ‘It is about the crown which was our father's.’ Then said the angel, ‘Are ye willing to give it up to me?’ And they surrendered it to the angel, who forthwith let it fall into the sea, and then instantly vanished. Then said Maharaja Alif, ‘How now, my brethren, will ye sail towards the setting of the sun?’ Maharaja Dipang replied, ‘I intend to sail for a land between the rising and setting of the sun.’ And Maharaja Diraja said, ‘As my two elder brothers have thus decided, I shall sail for the rising sun, and we will take our chance of what fortune may befall us.’ Then Maharaja Alif set sail for the setting sun, namely, Roum; and Maharaja Dipang sailed to the dark land, the country of China; and Maharaja Diraja sailed away to the land of the rising sun, and after a long time reached the top of the burning mountain (Menangkabau in Sumatra).”