The one text that has influenced the history of Jewish – not to mention Christian – mysticism and apocalyptic literature more than any other is undoubtedly the book of Ezekiel; and the single most influential passage in it is undoubtedly the opening chapter, centring on Ezekiel's vision of the “likeness of the glory of God”.

Since the Shī'ī response to constitutionalist notions of government is potentially a very large subject, for the purposes of this discussion Shī'ī will be taken to mean the members of the orthodox 'ulamā, those most committed to the sharī'a and learned in its precepts. Whilst even within this group there is a wide diversity of opinion, it is hoped that, by looking at works written over a longer period, the discussion will show that the response by a particular ‘ālim to constitutionalism is to some extent influenced by the political conditions prevailing at the time of writing. These form a factor together with the restrictions imposed by the sharī'a in shaping the views of particular writers. The ideology under consideration is constitutionalism, but it will be observed that for a large part the subject matter treated consists of ideas such as representation, consultation, legislation, freedom and equality, which are allied to the constitutionalist theory of government, rather than the complete theory itself.

Robert Orme is probably now chiefly remembered as the author of the History of the Military Transactions of the British Nation in Indostan. First published in 1763 and 1778, the History was widely admired in its time. Since then, however, Orme has been steadily displaced by later historians from James Mill onwards. The result is that today he is hardly read at all. The purpose of this article is to rescue Robert Orme from the anonymity to which he has been relegated.

By the ghats in Benares, a young woman appears at the head of a small procession composed of her relations, some priests and a band of musicians. The procession moves towards the corpse of a man, draped in cloth and laid out at the edge of the river. They are observed by an Englishman who experiences a mixture of emotions: his horror and moral outrage do not entirely destroy his delight that he is about to witness an instance of what he considers a most fascinating Hindu custom–sati. The date is October 1781, and the Englishman is the artist William Hodges.

The popular image of pre-1950 Tibet is of a remote land seldom visited by outsiders. But more than a hundred British officials served in Tibet during the early part of this century. Between 1904 and 1947 Agents from the Indian Political Service, and supporting staff, were stationed in Gyantse and Yatung, under the control of the Political Officer in Sikkim. An Agency was also maintained at Gartok in Western Tibet, where a native officer was posted as the Trade Agent. After 1936 a mission was stationed at Lhasa. The last British official in Lhasa, Hugh Richardson, departed in 1950 following the Chinese invasion of Tibet. For the British Trade Agents, an almost forgotten section of British colonial administration in Asia, Tibet was an official posting. Their isolation, and the lack of trade, meant that they had the time to study a variety of aspects of Tibet, and to gain a great knowledge of the country and its people.

I have read Dr Nigel Allan's article in the above issue of the most attractively revamped JRAS with great interest, partly because the Constantinople 1505 printing of Rashi's commentary to Exodus 28:6 (reproduced on p. 351) reminds me strongly of the Constantinople 1519 printing of the Hebrew letter from Prester John to “the Pope at Rome”, and partly on account of some pregnant differences in Rashi's text as between the Wellcome version and that in the Miqra'ot Gәdolot of the well-known Warsaw 1874 edition.