In discussing the symbolism of colours and figures Professor Kirfel recalls that Leo Frobenius spricht einmal von dem Sinn der Zahl als symbolischem Ausdruck einer bestimmten Kultur. Nach ihm ist “die Zahl nicht etwas von den Menschen Gefundenes sondern von den Menschen Erreichbares aus der Welt des unsichtbaren Daseins” und insofern “als direkter Beleg” für die Wesensart einer Kultur zu werten … Er betrachtet die Vierzahl “als Ausdruck durch den Horizont begrenzten Raumgefühls aufder Plane”, das das Merkmal der “solaren Kultur” sei, und “Lage, Ruhe” und “bestehende Gestaltung” zum Ausdruck bringe. Fast den gleichen Sinn wie die Vier-hat aber auch die Fünfzahl: zu den vier Kardinalpunkten ist nämlich noch der Zentralpunkt, gewissermaβen der Nullpunkt der Weltkoordinaten, als fünfter hinzugetreten. Without going further into Frobenius' theorizing on a tetradic solar culture, or, in a different direction, into the possible associations of the number 16 with a lunar cult surviving in the pūjā, it is enough to mention the importance which four and its multiples have always enjoyed in India, as until quite recently even the national coinage bore witness.

N. P. Joshi, Curator of the Archaeological Museum at Mathurā, kindly supplied the author with a photograph of a partly damaged inscribed stone relief (Mathurā Museum Accession No. 65.15.4), showing in the centre the dominating figure of a powerful four-armed man— clad in a dhotī, the upper part of his body naked (the “Śrīvatsa” symbol on the chest), with two arms akimbo while the other two are lifted up each holding a round object, the legs planted wide apart, the abnormally broad neck decorated with a beautiful necklace. To the right of the head, which unfortunately is lost, a small female is flying in the air. To the proper left side of the man an adorant stands below a tree whereas to the proper right side two more figures are in front of another tree, one person standing in the background and the other, probably, kneeling (his upper body bent backwards), facing the proper right side of the relief (i.e. in the direction of the beginning of the inscription) where the stone is broken off.

The question of the origins of Chinese civilization has fascinated scholars for a long time, but, in spite of the great advances that have come from recent archaeological discoveries, we still find extreme divergences of opinion on basic issues. The reasons for this are not far to seek. There are still enormous gaps in the evidence, and to fill in the picture at all one must extrapolate beyond what can be definitely proved. In such circumstances subjective considerations are bound to affect the judgment and what seems no more than an obvious inference to one person will seem wildly speculative to someone else. So it is with the question of indigenous development versus outside influence. To some Chinese scholars brought up within the self-sufficient tradition of their own culture it seems natural to assume that unless there is absolutely overwhelming evidence to the contrary, everything essential in Chinese civilization, including the basic inventions of agriculture, metallurgy, etc., developed from its own creative energies without outside influence. Hypotheses of contacts across Central Asia which cannot yet be documented in the absence of archaeological exploration in the intervening regions are stigmatized as far-fetched, whereas theories, as little based on evidence, about as yet unattested earlier stages of culture within China itself are advanced as matters of logical necessity.

The Buddhist kingdom referred to by Hiuan-tsang under the name of T'o-lo-po-ti (Dvāravatī), as situated to the west of Iśanapura (Cambodia) in the middle of the 7th century a.d., was recognized by Professor Cœdès in 1928 as having been peopled by Môns and responsible for the earlier Buddhist remains that have come to light around the head of the Gulf of Siam. As recently as 1963 he had the satisfaction of seeing his identification confirmed by two silver medals, found at Nak'on Pathom. Each was inscribed in Sanskrit of the 7th century: “foundation of the king of Śrī Dvāravatī.”

The Burmese king popularly known today as “Kyanzittha”, reigned at Pagán from a.d. 1084 to 1112 or 1113. But his active career started much earlier than that: say from about 1050. The career divides itself sharply into REIGN and PRE-REIGN. He has left a dozen original stone inscriptions in Old Mon, some of great length; and these (thanks to the labours of my teacher, the late Dr. C. O. Blagden) are excellently edited and available in Epigraphia Birmanica. They cover merely the Reign. In them he hardly ever alludes to the Pre-Reign; and never once to the great predecessor whom he served so long, King Aniruddha.—In the late Chronicles, however, e.g. the Glass Palace Chronicle translation, six pages suffice to cover the reign—mostly fables, with slight resemblance to the original inscriptions. As for the Pre-Reign, there are 40 pages, also fabulous, full of mistakes and contradictions, but still of value.

In Ada Orientalia, XXIX, 1–2 (1965), 49–60, J. P. Asmussen has published an excellent photograph, a transliteration, and an annotated glossary (with generous references to Professor W. B. Henning's way-making treatment of the text) of the Jewish-Persian Law Report from Ahwāz, but no consecutive translation.