In the same paper Mr. Thomas observes that the word Hamíra, so long supposed to be a proper name, and so eagerly sought for among the Hindú kings of India, proves to be an abbreviation of the full title of the Khalif of Baghdád,—Amíru-l Múminín,—continued by the Muhammadans in this curtailed form from the Arabic reverses of their own Ghazní money, when they adopted the style of coin found current in the countries they had subdued. “The abbreviation of the full titles of the Khalif into Śrí Hamíra will be seen,” says Mr. Thomas, “to be neces­sary, as the space occupied by the device did not admit of the introduction of many more Hindi letters of the size it was the custom to employ.” But this supposed abbreviation is disproved by examining the gold coins of Muhammad Ghorí, on one of which, in the possession of General Cunningham, Śrí Hamír is ascribed as the title of the king, not of the Khalif. The legend on one side only (not on two sides) is Śrí Hamír Muhammad Sámí. On the copper coins Śrí Hamír is on the reverse, but the purport of the expression is fully shown by the position it occu­pies on the gold coins. Amír is used by Baihakí as equivalent to Sultán, and that is no doubt the use of it in all these places. The legend of Śrí Samant Deo on many of this series of coins, npon which so much stress is laid, as indicative of Samant's power as one of the chief founders of the dynasty, does not seem to have reference to that prince, but to be an honorary title assumed by the reigning prince, meaning the “fortunate warrior;” otherwise it certainly would not have been stamped on the coins of Prithí Ráj, who lived 250 years later, and was not, like Samant, a Bráhman, but a Chauhán Rájpút, and proud of his lineage.*

EXTRACT.*

Kábul was formerly governed by princes of the Turkish race. It is said that they were originally from Tibet. The first of them, who was named Barhtigín, dwelt, when he arrived at Kábul, in a cave, in which no one could enter except by crawling on all fours. The cave contained a spring, and he provided him­self therein with food for some days. This cave is now well known by the name of Bakar, and is entered by those persons who wish to obtain the blessing which a visit to it is supposed to confer, and bring out some of the water, not without much diffi­culty. Groups of peasants used to labour near the entrance of the cave. Such a thing (as remaining in the cave without food) could not be practised without the connivance of some one. The people who were in league with Barhtigín engaged the peasants to labour without ceasing, relieving each other night and day, by which it happened that the place was constantly surrounded. After some days, Barhtigín came all of a sudden out of the cave,* and the men who were near the entrance saw him appear as one just born, clothed as a Turk, with a tunic, cap, boots, and armed from head to foot, He was looked upon as a wondrous person, and destined for empire. So he rendered himself master of the kingdom of Kábul, which continued in his family for sixty generations.

The Indians attach little importance to the sequence of events, and neglect to record the dates of the reigns of their kings. When they are embarrassed, they are silent. I will here men­tion what I have heard some people of the country say. It is true, according to what I have heard, that the succession of these reigns was written on a piece of silk, which was found in the fortress of Nagarkot. I vehemently desired to read this writing, but different circumstances prevented me.

Among the number of these kings was Kanak,* who founded the Vihár at Pesháwar, which bears his name. It is said that the Ráí of Kanauj offered to this prince, among other presents, a piece of cloth of excellent texture, and of a new kind, of which Kanak wished to make a dress. But the tailor refused to make up the garment, saying, “I see the figure of a human foot, and notwithstanding all my endeavours, still the foot will come be­tween the shoulders.” This bears a relation to the story which I have elsewhere narrated in the legend of Bal.

Kanak understood that the Ráí of Kanauj intended to insult him, and to evince the small estimation in which he held him, so Kanak departed quickly with his army towards Kanauj. At this news the Ráí of Kanauj was greatly embarrassed, not find­ing himself in a position to contend with the king of Kábul. He consulted with his minister, who said, “You have roused a man who was peaceably disposed, and an untoward act has been committed. Now cut off my nose and lips, and mutilate me, that I may search out a way of practising some artifice, since there are no means of open resistance.”

The Ráí did as his minister advised, and allowed him to depart to the frontier. When the army of Kábul met the minister, he made himself known, and was conducted to the presence of Kanak, who demanded of him how he was reduced to that (pitiable) condition. He replied, “I endeavoured to dis­suade the Ráí from contending with you, and recommended him to make his submission, but, charging me with collusion, he mutilated me. If you march by the road which lies before you, you will find it long. You will more easily arrive at your desti­nation by encountering the difficulties of the desert between him and us, provided you can carry with you a supply of water for a few days.” Kanak said, “This is easy.” So he took with him water, as recommended, and was guided on his way by the minister, who preceded him when he entered the boundless desert. When some days had elapsed, and the king knew not his way, he enquired of the minister, who replied, “No rebuke can attach to me for seeking to secure the safety of my master, and the destruction of his enemy. The nearest way to escape from the desert is that by which you entered it. Do to me as you wish, but none of you can escape alive from this desert.” At these words Kanak mounted his horse, and urged it towards some low ground, in the midst of which he dug his spear, and water gushed out from it, which sufficed for the present and future wants of the whole army. Then the minister said to the king, “I did not intend to practice deceit upon powerful angels, but only upon weak men; and since things have so turned out, accept my intercession, and pardon my gracious master. Kanak replied, “I now retrace my way, and grant your solicitation. Your master has already received the punishment due to him.” Upon this the king returned to his country, and the minister to his master the Ráí. But on his arrival he found that the Ráí had been deprived of the use of his feet and hands on the self­same day that Kanak had planted his spear in the ground.*

The last of these kings was Laktúzamán, and his minister was Kalar, a Bráhman. * * * Laktúzamán's thoughts and actions were evil, so that many complaints reached the minister, who loaded him with chains and imprisoned him for his correction. * * * So the minister established himself on the throne, and was succeeded by the Bráhman Sámand, whose successor was Kamalava, whose successor was Bhím, whose successor was Jaipál, whose successor was Ánand Pál, whose successor was Nardajanpál,* who ascended the throne A.H. 412. His son, Bhím Pál, succeeded him after the lapse of five years, and under him the sovereignty of India became extinct, and no descendant remained to light a fire on the hearth. These princes, notwithstanding the extent of their dominions, were endowed with excellent qualities, were faithful to their engagements, and gracious towards their inferiors. The letter which Ánand Pál wrote to Amír Mahmúd, at the time enmity existed between them, is much to be admired. “I have heard that the Turks have invaded your dominions, and have spread over Khurásán: if you desire it, I will join you with 5,000 Cavalry, 10,000 Infantry, and 100 Elephants; but if you prefer it, I will send my son with twice the number. In making this proposal, I do not wish to ingratiate myself with you. Though I have vanquished you, I do not desire that any one else but myself should obtain the ascendancy.”* This prince was a determined enemy of the Musulmáns from the time that his son Nardajanpál was taken prisoner, but his son was, on the contrary, well dis­posed towards them.*