The Chachnámah tell us next to nothing of the daily life lived in those ancient days, though we can gather from its pages that, besides Shrámans and Brahmans, there were rich merchants, at least at Alor, that there were workers in marble who could make life-like statues, even equestrian statues, that the very powerful discus used by Dáhar with signal effect was probably of home manu­facture, that there was a large class of artisans, and that the bulk of the population lived by agriculture. We read of a Buddhist monk who apparently knew the art of war, and there is little doubt that almost all the officials were Brahmans, even before Chach usurped the throne. There were also numerous temples, Buddhistic as well Brah-manic, which were frequented by the people, especially, on holidays, and which had large revenues. There was not a rack left behind of them, when the English assumed the government of the country.

The geographical information given by the Onachnámah is of great value. But it would require a volume to do justice to that information, and to discuss the various theories that have been advanced as to the situation of the numerous places mentioned in this book. For the same reason, I do not propose to discuss the historical accuracy of the various events narrated in the Chach-námah, or to choose between the conflicting versions of one and the same event occasionally given by the author, or, rather by the authors: for there can be little doubt that the original work in Arabic was composed by the Sakifí family, which settled down at Bakhar, and the pedigree of which is given in the Persian Translator's preface.

The Sakifí family appear to have been very industrious in collecting information about their kinsman Muhammad Kásim's campaign. The sources of their knowledge may be classified as follows:—

1. Arab historical lays, and ballads.

2. Family traditions of the Sakifís, recorded and un­recorded.

3. Stories told by individuals whose names were forth­coming.

4. Stories traceable to individuals of a certain class, e.g., Brahmans.

5. What may be called the Flotsam and Jetsam of hearsay.

In addition to these, they probably had some memo­randa of the correspondence between Muhammad Kásim and Hajjáj, and perhaps the whole correspondence. All these materials appear to have been worked up into a consecutive narrative in Arabic, and that narrative was placed at the disposal of Ali Kúfí in the begining of the 13th century, by the Sakifí family. Ali Kúfí dealt with the narrative, to a certain extent, in the way in which the author of the Anwári Suheli dealt with what are called Pilpay's fables. The story of Suhandi's love-making is an instance in point; and, perhaps, the analogue to the story of Potiphar's wife, in connection with Jaisiah's adventure is another. But if we except these two instances, and the metaphors used to describe sunrise and sunset, the language of Ali Kúfí is very simple, and I have little doubt that, though he paraphrased some pas­sages, and added a few Persian “purple patches,” he has faithfully rendered into his vernacular the bulk of the old Arabic manuscript.

Ali Kúfí's embroideries have the great merit of being transparent; and the historical student is, therefore, not likely to be misled by them. It is quite likely that he amplified the memoranda of Muhammad Kásim's corres­pondence into long letters, but he could not have inven­ted the Arabic verses which form an important part of the book. It may be noted here that, with the exception of the verses in the tale of Suhandi's courtship, which are in Persian, all the rest are in Arabic, and but for Mufti Sachedino's help could not have been translated at all. Ali Kúfí has besides preserving these memorabilia, stated fully who were responsible for certain stories. He has also indicated, in many places, by the heading “tradition,” what I have called the Flotsam and Jetsam of hearsay. The natural bias of the Sakifí family and the inac­curacies almost inseparable from hearsay are, thus, the two great drawbacks, for which the fullest allowance must be made in appreciating the historical evidence now placed before the public.

Like many an old history, the Chachnamah is a “chronology of selfishness and pride.” The only sturdy and earnest persons we come across are Muhammad Kásim and Jaisiah. It has been said: “Time and space are but physiological colours which the eye makes, but the soul is light; and history is an impertinence and an injury, if it be anything more than a cheerful apologue or parable of my being and becoming.” The Chachná-mah, most certainly, does not come up to this high stan­dard, but it does enable us to see how “the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.” It shows also that even­tually we get the government we deserve.

DAYARAM GIDUMAL.

Dhulia, 20th November 1900.