for practical purposes. Probably, when he wrote these two apparently, but not necessarily, contradictory texts, the author had different classes of altercations and circumstances in contemplation. When he wrote one, he may have been thinking of disputes between merchants and others; when he wrote the other, he may have been thinking of questions of religion or morals arising between virtuous Brahmans.

Even if it could be reasonably contended that Narada has spoken strongly in favour of deciding suits according to Smrti texts, I could not allow that his unsupported opinion should be held to outweigh, or even counterbalance, the plainly and 'emphatically' enunciated rules upon the point to be found in Manu, Gautama, and others, as admitted (or rather stated) by Professor Jolly. For, certainly, Narada cannot as yet be regarded as a champion of a new school, teaching practice that had superseded old and obsolete practice. His mere opinion must be taken for what it may be worth, as compared with the opinions of many others.

What, however, Narada really thought of the value of mere law appears tolerably clearly from I. 1, cl. 11. The law, the issue of the case, the conduct (of the parties), and an edict from the king-these are the four feet of a judicial proceeding; each following is weightier than the preceding.' The least weighty, therefore, is the law; the most weighty is the King's edict, which (as I. 1, cl. 12 tells us) 'depends on the king's pleasure.' Then I. 1, cl. 34 says that in a trial 'where religious and secular rules are at variance, the

secular rules have to be put aside, and the religious precepts to be followed.' And, again, cl. 35 goes on to say: 'The law ordains to take logic for one's guide when the sacred law cannot be applied, for the evidence in a lawsuit is more decisive than the law, and overrules the law.' And cl. 24 says: That is not a judicial assembly where the elders are missing, nor are they elders who do not pronounce a just opinion, nor is that a just opinion which is against equity.' It seems to me that what Narada looked for in a judge was equity and good conscience, not acquaintance with the contents of the latest editions of lawbooks; and that he would have been intensely astonished if any one had suggested to him that a judge should enter his court-house preceded by a Peon carrying the best recension of Manu.

Of the supreme will of the King, Narada speaks in the very plainest terms in his last chapter. Thus, cl. 19 says: 'Wisdom is the ornament of kings; it shows itself in their sayings; whatever they pronounce, right or wrong, is the law for litigants.' And cl. 21 says: Whatever a king does for the protection of his subjects, by right of his kingly power, and for the best of mankind, is valid; that is the rule.' Again, cl. 24 says: The rulers of the earth have made regulations for the purpose of maintaining order; the king's sentence is even more weighty than these regulations.' This does not look like prescribing reliance on the latest editions.

Whilst, however, I am unwilling to believe (in the absence of sufficient evidence) that the practice of

using 'law-treatises' for information and guidance prevailed at any time in such primitive tribunals as may have existed in India from time to time under powerful monarchs, I see no harm in assuming, for argument's sake, that such practice in fact existed; and I will go on to consider very briefly the practical question, in what way should such books be turned to use now, in the courts established by the British Government.

In doing this I shall take it for granted that most persons will at once admit the propriety of using them in a manner agreeable to the spirit of the books themselves, as also to the idiosyncrasies and wishes of the various races to whom the so-called Hindu law is administered; and shall avoid as far as possible the influence of English notions as to precedent, authority, customary law, and other matters more or less germane to the question from the point of view of the mere lawyer.

First, with regard to Manu, a text of which forms the subject-matter of this chapter. In looking to turn this treatise to practical use, undoubtedly the first thing to be considered is that it professes from first to last to be no more than a 'body of teaching' on dharma'; which, whatever else it may be, is nothing in the least like 'law' proper. I have already attempted to give an idea of the meaning of this word in Chapter II. And I have further suggested that Manu may properly be taken to be a treatise on that 'true knowledge' which in itself constitutes 'true religious merit,' or, as I have suggested, 'blessedness.'

And, if so, we should search its pages, not so much for law,' rules of conduct 'laid' or set by princes or others, as for a perfect way of life, revealed in the eternal Veda, and republished by the eminent author.

The next matter to be considered is the date of the work. It may, indeed must, make a vast difference, for one who would turn Manu to profitable use, whether the work is to be supposed to have been written 3000 years ago or 1000. Now, Burnell has recently fixed the date as being (probably) of about 500 A.D., and I imagine that few can read his Introduction to Manu without, at all events, feeling doubt as to the possibility of the very early dates assigned to it being approximately correct. For my own part, I have given in the Prospectus some reasons for thinking that our present text is of a much later date than 500 A.D., at all events of one later than the time of Hiouen Thsang's visit to India in the middle of the seventh century.

Then comes the question, for whose instruction and benefit was this treatise written? When Sir William Jones first introduced it to the notice of the world, he (for the moment) imagined it to be an allsufficing code of law, compiled and published in very early times by an heroic lawgiver, ' Manu,' for the use and benefit of all the dwellers in the continent of India. But this idea has long since been exploded. And now Burnell has declared that the Manavadharma-çãstra is 'a popular work, intended for Râjas and similar persons, and was not originally intended for the use of Brahmans'; the many details which

refer solely to Brahmans having been inserted in it 'because kings are bound to see that all do their dharma or duty.' And he pronounces it to be 'essentially a religious book,' not a 'profane treatise on mere law.'

Assuming Burnell's view to be in the main correct, I think it may be safe and prudent to regard Manu as a trustworthy authority (so far as it goes) upon the usages ordinarily observed by various classes of Indians between, say, 1000 and 1500 years ago, particularly by the Brahmans and Ksatriyas, or kings. And, so regarding the work, we may still turn it to most profitable use in hearing and deciding suits between Hindus. Indeed, it cannot well be doubted by any who are competent to offer an opinion on the subject, that a judge who knows and understands his Manu, cæteris paribus, is infinitely better qualified than one who does not, to do justice in an altercation of almost any kind between Brahmans, or even nonBrahman Indians. But, he must understand as well as know the teaching of the book, or it will easily mislead him. Particularly, he must comprehend the leading principle that for every human being, whether a Brahman, a woman, a Çudra, a heretic, or a Mleccha (barbarian), there is a separate usage, a separate dharma (blessedness); and that what is good for one is not necessarily good for another.

And, since Manu plainly and emphatically recognises the existence, at the time when it was composed, of various and conflicting usages, it may reasonably be inferred (it seems to me) that the author of it may