This article contributes to the established scholarship on Sir William Jones (d.1794) by providing a detailed overview and analysis of the Arabic and Persian manuscript collection that Jones acquired both before arriving in India in 1784, and during his time living in Kolkata. 118 manuscripts in Arabic, Persian and Urdu and 69 Sanskrit manuscripts, as well as nine Chinese manuscripts, were transferred to the Royal Society library by Jones in 1792. These were then transferred to the India Office Library in 1876 and are currently housed in the British Library. As well as an in-depth survey of these manuscripts, this article provides important information on the manuscripts which remained in the Jones's possession after 1792 and which were sold, along with the rest of Lady Jones's (d.1829) library, at auction in 1831 after her death. Within this overview of the Arabic and Persian manuscript collections, there will be a sustained focus on the methods of acquiring manuscripts and Jones's curatorial management of his library.

The Turkish Languages are unusually rich in numerical series, and there are pecularities in their numerical system which are, I believe, unparallelled elsewhere. The main facts are well known, and it might be thought that there was nothing more to be said about them; but several interesting points have never been properly discussed. The purpose of this paper is to call attention to them.

Of the six systems of philosophy received among learned Hindus, four have been noticed in the preceding parts of this essay, viz. the theistical and atheistical Sánc'hyas, the dialectic Nyáya, and the atomical Vaiśéshica. The prior or practical Mímánsá will be now considered; reserving the later or theological Mímánsá, usually named Védánta, for a future disquisition, should it appear requisite to pursue the subject, much concerning it being already before the public.

Travellers from the city of Peking to the town of Kalgan on the great wall of China, must make the journey by the rugged defile known as the Nankow Pass. Five miles north of the entrance, where the village of Nankow stands, is the smaller village of Keu-yung kwan. Fortifications there run up the steep slopes of the mountains on both sides of the valley; and besides arched gateways at the two ends of the village, the highway passes under a limestone archway of a much more striking appearance. This is covered with mythological and symbolic sculptures of obviously Indian origin. The tradition of the natives in the neighbourhood asserts it to have been the basement story of a pagoda which stood there; and the name by which it is still designated, Kwŏ keae t'à, “Pagoda crossing the street,” bears out the statement. We are told that this pagoda, though erected for the benefit of the locality, proved an object of such terror to the superstitious Mongols, coming south from their native wilds, that they could not be induced to pass under the ominous-looking structure; and thus it was found necessary in the early part of the Ming dynasty, to remove the upper stories of the erection; the policy of the government being to conciliate and attract these wild nomades.

The text contained in the MS. described below begins with three syllables śa-li-ẖbur, which scholars will naturally (unless illuded for a moment by the thought of sāli “year”) find suggestive of Śāriputra. The recurrence of the syllables will confirm this impression, more especially when far on in the document appears 'an.nog.da.la.sam. yag.sam.bu.de, previously recognized as=Sanskrit anuttara samyak-sambodhi. But, since the conjunction of this expression with the name of Śāriputra is frequently exemplified in the mass of Sanskrit Buddhist writings, we are grateful for the occurrence early in the text of the combination 'a.myi.ẖda, i.e. obviously Amitābha or Amitāyus, pointing to the Amitābha literature. When we come to try the smaller Sukhāvatīvyūka (published by Max Müller and Bunyiu Nanjio in Anecdota Oxoniensia, Aryan Series, vol. i, part ii, pp. 92–100), the distribution and character of the paragraphs soon enables us to fix upon sections ix(viii)–xx, of which several afford great assistance by furnishing names of numerals or of Buddhas in succession. As in the former case, some apparent divergencies from the Sanskrit original direct attention to the Chinese version translated into French by Messrs. Ymaizumi and Yamata in Annales du Musée Guimet, vol. ii, pp. 39–44. And this has enabled Captain Clauson to verify the whole text as a transcription, syllable for syllable, of Kumārajīva's rendering (Nanjio, No. 200). We give the Chinese characters from the India Office copy, and append a direct and inverse index of the syllables as represented in the Tibetan writing. From the interesting colophon it appears that the copy was a work of piety.

For the right understanding of Alexander's Indian campaign it is essential to place correctly the nations called Malloi, Kathaioi, and Oxydrakai by Arrian, who were among the most formidable opponents of the invader. Mr. McCrindle, in his valuable work, “The Invasion of India by Alexander the Great” (new ed., 1896), seems to me to have gone wrong in this matter, and to have seriously misplaced all three nations. He has located the Malloi about one degree of latitude too far south, and, with respect to the Oxydrakai, his error, in my judgment, amounts to about three degrees. He has also failed to indicate correctly the position of the Kathaioi. I propose in this paper to examine all the evidence on the subject, and to try to establish the true approximate positions of the three nations on the map of ancient India.

The last few decades have seen the publication of several hitherto unedited Arab sources relative to the history of the 'Abbāsid empire in the tenth century—such as Kitāb ta'rīkh al-wuzarā' by Hilāl aṣ-Ṣābi, the volumes of Miskawaihi's Kitāb tajārib al-umam, and at-Tanūkhī's Nishwār al-muḥāḍarā—that are a veritable storehouse of information on the social, economic, and political situation of that period. These works have revealed a completely new world to us: they show us, so to speak, the back stage of tenth century 'Abbāsid administration and we see the governmental machinery with all its ramifications in action.

Recent discoveries at Ur have thrown fresh light upon the Babylonian custom of burying beneath the floors of houses small figures intended to secure the houses and their occupants against sickness and evil spirits. There are texts giving instructions as to how such figures should be used, and examples of the figures themselves were already known, but now we have, to illustrate the texts, a far wider range of types and much more detailed information as to the manner of the actual ritual in connexion with them.

The original version of the Assassin biography of al-Ḥasan ibn al-Ṣabbāḥ, called sar-gudhasht-i sayyidnā, is not extant. All we possess are two recensions of it, if such a term is apposite, in the notes taken on the work by the two seventh/thirteenth century historians, ‘Aṭā-Malik al-Juwaynī (work completed 658/1260) and the Rashīd al-Dīn Faḍdl Allāh (work completed 710/1310–11). For unless we may suppose that al-Juwaynī, who discovered the book in the library of the Assassin headquarters at Alamūt, afterwards condensed the notes that he first took, and that the Rashīd later incorporated these first longer notes in his history, we can only conclude that the Rashīd consulted the original work afresh, since his version is in fact very much fuller than al-Juwaynī's. Which the Rashīd did it is impossible to say. There is one fact, however, that points to the first course as the likelier, namely that in introducing their, extracts both use almost the same words (which cannot have appeared in the original work). Moreover, the copy used by al-Juwaynī was burnt after perusal with the other pernicious writings of the heretics. So the second course would involve the (improbable) existence of another copy.

A modern student of Buddhism, unfamiliar with Buddhist art, and accustomed to think of the Buddha only as a human and historical figure, would naturally expect to find the Śākya sage represented in art like any other Buddhist friar, with a shaven (muṇḍa) head; and to suppose that such representations could only have existed as memorials, and not as objects of a cult. As a matter of fact, however, the Buddha is always represented, although not in royal garb, as a deity, with a nimbus, lotus or lion throne, and certain physical peculiarities proper to the conception of a MahāPuruṣa and Cakravartin or King of the World. But crowned and otherwise ornamented Buddhas are not unknown, and again, the earliest Indian type differs in several respects from the established formula of the Gupta and later periods. Thus the Buddha iconography presents a number of difficult problems; and amongst these are those referred to in the title of this paper.

We must admit that very little is known about the first development of Indian logic and particularly about Buddhist logic before Diṅnāga. If we take the best manuals of Indian logic now available, such as those by Suali, Vidyābhūṣāṇa, Keith, or the most comprehensive Histories of Indian philosophy like those of Dāsgupta and Rādhākrishna we shall easily recognize that the data contained therein are far from being satisfactory; more than that, they are also very often wrong. In fact, almost the only source from which their statements are derived is the book by Sugiura, who certainly had the merit of giving the first account of Indian logic as preserved in Chinese sources, but, being himself absolutely without knowledge of orthodox nyāya and of Sanscrit, is in his statements and in his translations very often misleading.

Since the publication of the third part of my Memoir on the Cuneiform Inscriptions of Van in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (xx. 1.) for 1882, the number of new Vannic inscriptions which have come to my knowledge has been but small. During the winter of 1888–1889 Prof. H. Hyvernat and M. Müller-Simonis travelled in Armenia, and Prof. Hyvernat made every effort to discover fresh cuneiform inscriptions and re-copy those which were previously known. But unfortunately political intrigue and religious antipathies, aided by the severity of the winter, so seriously impeded his efforts as to oblige him to leave the country with few additions to our knowledge of its early epigraphy. That many more inscriptions, however, exist above ground besides those with which we are already acquainted has recently been ascertained by a German engineer, Dr. Belck, who has been settled in Armenia for some time past.

The possibility of understanding certain parts of the Yh-King, such as the ethnological chapters and the legendary ballads, led early to the conclusion, that the whole of these documents could be currently read and interpreted. It is quite possible that the hexagrams were attached to them merely as a system of numerical classification to keep them in proper order; but it is more likely that the antiquity of these obscure documents, and the tradition that they contained a treasure of ancient wisdom, first led to their use as fateful and prophetic sentences, in which some glimmer of meaning was detected or surmised, and that the hexagrams were then applied to them for the purposes of divination.

Seldom has a work had such world-wide success and been translated into so many languages as the Indian stories and animal fables known as the Panchatantra. In the sixth century of our era they were translated from Sanskrit into Pehlevi. Thence they passed into Arabic; and from the Arabic text, called by Muhammadans the Fables of Bidpai or the Book of Kalila wa Diṁna, were made all those different versions through which these stories were transmitted to the countries of Europe.

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.

It is so long since Indo-Muslim numismatics first attracted scholarly attention and there have been so many devoted labourers in this field that it is gratifying to note a new coinage struck by yet another Indo-Muslim dynasty. To the best of the knowledge of the present writer no coinage of the Samma Jāms of Sind (14th–16th century a.d.) has yet been published. This paper records two varieties of their copper coinage, dating from the latest period of their rule.

I write this article in the spirit of the Persian poetic tradition, in which an answer to an earlier work takes off from the original and charts its own course. I will suggest that Tamerlane's recreation of the Mongol Empire was symbolic, and was part of his successful creation of a regional state which was at once Turco-Mongolian and Perso-Islamic. His experiment was continued and elaborated by his successors, and the resulting state provided a highly useful model for later dynasties in the Middle East and Central Asia.

Through my long engagement with Mongols and Turks, David Morgan's influence and aid have been a constant advantage and his friendship a recurring pleasure. Our acquaintance began in 1987 with a kind letter he sent me after reading the manuscript for The Rise and Rule of Tamerlane for the Cambridge University Press. Since then I have profited from his scholarship, have used his two books to teach generations of students, and have called on him for uncountable letters of recommendation, always generously given. I also want to thank David for asking me to write the Mongol chapter for the New Cambridge History of Islam, and thus attracting me into the Mongol period. It may seem odd to express my gratitude by writing an answer to David's article which is not entirely in agreement with his conclusions. I trust in the well-known openness of his mind and assume that he will take this in the spirit in which it is offered, as the continuation of many years of discussion.

Detective fiction counts amongst the most successful literary products that the metropolitan west has exported to the world periphery. Between the end of the nineteenth century and the outbreak of the Second World War the genre acquired a global presence – both in the form of translations of existing works such as the Sherlock Holmes stories, and in the form of numerous indigenous adaptations. This kind of literature represented a prime example of the mass-produced and mass-circulated print entertainment that was part and parcel of the emergence of mass consumption as a social form. Detective fiction was, thus, both a carrier and an expression of modernity. While some literary theorists have pointed to longstanding historical antecedents, detective fiction would not have made sense in earlier historical epochs. The principles of scientific enquiry permeate the genre throughout, not just in terms of the ubiquitous magnifying glasses, finger-prints and assorted scientific apparatuses, but in terms of the subject matter itself – the fact that it is possible to make sense of an increasingly confusing world by uncovering hidden causal connections through rational enquiry.

This article engages with the 838–841/1435–1437 Anatolian adventures of the Mamluk amir Jānibak al-Ṣūfī. It demonstrates how Jānibak's narrative is a remarkable story full of meanings, which enable a more nuanced understanding of Mamluk engagements with southern and eastern Anatolia during the reign of sultan al-Ashraf Barsbāy (825–41/1422–38). First Jānibak's whereabouts in Anatolia are reconstructed on the one hand as they appear from contemporary source material and as they have been analysed in a handful of modern studies on the other. Against this historiographical background, a more comprehensive understanding of Jānibak's role and significance is then developed, combining local, Syro-Egyptian and Anatolian readings of Jānibak's story into one integrated social network approach. This reconstruction of Jānibak's social network in the Anatolian frontier zone finally leads to a number of conclusions on the complexity of political life in the 1430s in eastern Anatolia, on the nature of Barsbāy's state, and on the shared realities of 15th-century political cultures in the Nile-to-Black-Sea area.

Continuing our theme of looking at foreign relations between Iran and Britain from the point of view of the popular level through the role of the karguzar (the Ministry of Foreign Affairs Agent), this article will consider cases concerning foreign trade and disputes over property. It will examine the popular response to the growth of the foreign presence through expansion of foreign trade and the way Iranians handled their situation in a system that was dominated by Europeans. As trade grew in the late nineteenth century, so did the number and workload of karguzars.