INDIA, PERSIA, ASSYRIA, AND BABYLON.
Our tree of art, with its manifold branches, flowers, and fruits,
rooted in the unknown origin of the three great groups of humanity,
shows that the Negro, or black branch, had a very short growth. It
still lives on in savage art, but is crippled, and has no vitality.
Next we have seen the long line of Turanian art, represented by
the Chinese; it originates in the geological age, passes through
the mythical, traditional, and historical periods, and continues
uninterruptedly to modern times. We have up to this point treated of
the artistic productions of the Negro and Turanian groups, both of
which stand without the pale of real history.
We now take up the art-history of the Aryan, the historical group.
The birth-place of this group undoubtedly was Central Asia. Thence
the pure Aryan group took two divergent roads. One division crossed
over the Himâlâya Mountain chain, and settled round the Brahmapootra,
the Indus and Ganges rivers, and the other remained on this side
of the mountains. The Aryans may, therefore, be best divided into
Trans-Himâlâyans and Cis-Himâlâyans. In these two groups we find the
oldest traces of a power slowly awakening to full consciousness. We
can perceive in remote ages, only measurable by means of analogy and
deduction, an endeavour to solve the greatest problems of our existence.
To find answers to these _three_ questions: Where from? What for? Where
to? To measure the _three_ dimensions of space and time; to trace
the cause of which the _three_, ever stable and still ever varying,
phenomena are the effect; and to know what creation, preservation and
annihilation, or rather only transformation, are, has been the chief
aim of the Aryan mind; and, as history teaches us, they have found more
or less distinct answers to these questions. We are not only capable
of philologically tracing the development of the different languages
of the Aryan group step by step to one common parent-language--the
Sanskrit, but the art-historian may trace every mysterious conception
of the powers of nature, every form of personification or incarnation,
and every religious tenet or mystery, symbol or myth, to these same
Indians, who with the words _Pitâ_, _Matâ_, _Brahtâ_, _Duihtâ_,
have taught us the holiest relations of our family life. For words,
like pictures, are only representatives of outward impressions. To
the Trans-and Cis-Himâlâyan Aryans we can trace all theogonies,
cosmogonies, systems of esoteric pathology and mythic anthropology.
They first saw in geometrical forms the phenomena of the material as
well as the spiritual world; gave meaning and interpretation to these
mystic types; peopled heaven and earth with visible and invisible,
good and evil, gods, goddesses, and spirits. They first acknowledged
the ‘noumenal,’ or invisible, divine nature with its creative force;
and recognised the ‘phenomenal,’ or visible, nature of the world
as an emanation, evolution, development, outgrowth, or mere work
of the invisible Creator. All the gods of the Persians, Assyrians,
Babylonians, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, and a great number of
the customs of Hebrews and Christians, may be traced back to Indian
conceptions, forms, and modes of worship.
Not historical events only, but the whole life of humanity centres
round religion. For science and art were in olden times the direct
offsprings of religion. Neither science nor art can be understood,
unless we have a clear insight into the mythologies and religious
conceptions of the ancient peoples. Our great mistake has been, that
till very lately we detached one of the different branches of the tree
of knowledge. We criticised its bark, leaves, blossoms, and fruits
separately, never concerning ourselves about the ramifications of the
root, the soil in which it first spread, the chemical substances on
which it fed, the conditions of climate under which it flourished or
withered, never enquiring whether it brought forth only flowers and
never fruits, or for what purposes its fruits and flowers were used
by those who gathered both. Now without such understanding artists are
mere unconscious machines, groping in the dark of ignorance, never
capable of a clear reproduction of forms. Education and a higher
conception flow like invisible magnetic streams through the hand,
whether it hold pencil, paint-brush, chisel, or engraver’s needle, and
endow the work of art with a vitality which forms its real charm. It
is never the technical correctness that appeals to us most strongly
when contemplating even the smallest work of art, but the thought which
animated the artist when constructing his forms.
Whilst the savage scarcely ever acquires a correct notion of time and
space, and the Turanian only a limited one, the Aryan gathers from
them the first dim recognition of the Infinite. In time and space
perceptible changes take place, through the influence of an invisible
power which creates all visible things. In time and space all created
things are preserved, and in time and space all either perish or assume
different forms. The Aryans endeavoured to express these abstract,
yet concrete phenomena by signs. A triangle with three equal sides
appeared best to express the mystery of the three equally powerful
forces--creation, preservation, and transformation.
In the very earliest dawn of civilisation, therefore, the triangle
became the hallowed symbol of the Divinity. After the _Symbolic_ and
_Dialectic_ period had given place to the _Mythological_, time and
space were looked upon as the origin of all things, out of which
Brahmā, Vishnu, and S’iva had sprung. These three incomprehensible
forces were expressed by geometrical figures, or, so to speak,
crystallised, before they became incarnate persons. The creator had the
sign of a double triangle [Illustration: (apexes upwards)] which formed
three triangles symbolically representing the three forces in ONE, the
CREATOR. Vishnu was designated by an equilateral triangle with the apex
pointing downwards, [Illustration] meaning the preserver; whilst S’iva
had for his symbol a triangle with the apex upwards, [Illustration]
denoting the transformer.
The divinities were placed in the following order: S’iva first, then
Vishnu, and Brahmā last, to whom no temples were built. This was the
case with nearly all the races of the Aryan group; there are scarcely
any temples to Amn, Brahmă, Zeruane-Akerene, Uranos, Wodan, &c.
The order of the symbols, as given below, with their five
significations--
[Illustration:
(Triangle apex up, Triangle apex down, Three triangles as trapezoid)
S’IVA. VISHNU. BRAHMĀ.
1. Transformer, Preserver, Creator,
2. Fire, Water, Sun,
3. Justice, Wisdom, Power,
4. Future, Present, Past,
5. Time, Space, Matter,]
produced the most sacred word--
=⋀VM= or =ÔM=,
expressed by this triangular combination--
[Illustration: (Six-pointed star)]
This was the mysterious TRIMURTY of the Indians, from which in time,
according to the influences of nature, the degree of intellectual
development, and the social and political condition of the different
groups of the Aryan races, grew the different mystic conceptions of the
_triune_ power in _one_, working in nature.
Whilst the Trans-Himâlâyans, influenced by a gorgeous nature, allowed
their imagination to run wild, and to distort the primitive mystic
simplicity of these religious conceptions, the Cis-Himâlâyans remained
more faithful to the first impressions of nature, and worshipped Light
and Fire as the symbols of intellect, righteousness, and virtue, in
opposition to Night, as the symbol of ignorance, injustice, and sin.
To the triangular forms, the circle, [Illustration: (circle)] the
serpent, was added, the form without beginning and end; no wonder
that, encircling the equilateral triangle and joined to the square,
it became the symbol of the mysterious, incomprehensible forces of
nature. The [Illustration: triangle, square, and the circle] united,
intersected, combined, isolated, and crossed, formed the fundamental
lines of temples and their decorations. It was only at a later period
that animal and monstrous human forms were conceived to personify
abstract divine powers. The attributes of Ether, Water (Indra), and
Fire (Agni), were transformed into acting persons. The three equal
sides of the triangle, influenced by the imagination of the expounders
of matters divine, were changed into an individual with three heads, so
as to give a more comprehensible form to the incomprehensible divine
power.
[Illustration: (Three heads with pointed caps)]
The Trans-Himâlâyans, once settled on the gigantic triangular peninsula
stretching into the Indian Ocean, had leisure to work out a vast
theogony, which has served the Aryans down to our own days as a
store-house for different mythologies and religious systems.
The _Divespiter_ of India (Deus pater, Jupiter) became the Lord of the
sky, the Lord of hosts; his weapon was the thunderbolt. He possessed a
splendid garden, the paradise, _nandana_.
_Gânesa_ is Janus, the god with two heads. He was the guardian of
ways; he had a _rod_ or _sceptre_ in his hand (the shepherd’s crook
or crosier) and a _key_--symbolic of his power to enter upon all the
important undertakings of mankind.
_S’rî_ or _S’rîs_ (Seris--Ceres), also _Lakshmî_, _Padmâ_, and
_Camalâ_, was the goddess of abundance, sprung from the sacred Lotus.
_S’iva_, the Greek _Zeus_, the Egyptian _Jao_, the Hebrew _Javeh_, the
Roman _Jovis_, with their analogous attributes of revenge, jealousy,
indomitable caprices, terror, and irreconciliation, all point to one
and the same origin. Of S’iva (as of Zeus, Jovis, or Javeh elsewhere)
it is recorded in Indian mythology that he had to fight with Daityas
(Titans, or fallen angels), the children of Dity. Indra, on this
occasion, provided the God of Fire, Justice, and Transformation with
fiery shafts. Again, Jove overthrew the Titans and giants, whom Typhon,
Bisareus, and Tityus led against the ruler of Olympus. The same is done
by Javeh or Jehovah, who hurled the legions of proud and overbearing
angels under Satan’s rule into the infernal regions. The analogy is too
striking to require any further comment.
_Paulastya_ (the Greek and Roman _Pluto_), or _Kuvêra_, the Egyptian
_Typhon_, the Hebrew _Satan_, bears a general family resemblance to the
conceptions of the chiefs of the lower regions.
_Garuda_, the beautiful bird with a lovely human face attending on
Vishnu, is the prototype of the youthful, blooming _Ganymede_ attending
on Zeus, not only in similarity of name, but especially in similarity
of function.
_Durga_, who takes her name from brandishing a lance, is, like _Pallas_
or _Minerva_, the Indian representative of heroic valour and reflecting
wisdom. Both _Durga_ and _Pallas_ slew demons and giants with their own
hands; both protected the wise and virtuous who paid them due respect
and adoration. _Seraswati_ and Minerva have also much in common. The
Minerva of Italy invented the flute, and Seraswati presided over melody.
_Is’wara_ and _Is’i_ of India are undoubtedly the originals of Osiris
and Isis.
_Dypuc_ read backwards gives us _Cupid_. The Indian name is derived
from _De’paka_, the inflamer. The mischief-maker of India and
Greece had one and the same name. We find his name and character in
Shakespeare’s masterly delineation of _Puck_.
These analogies go much farther and deeper than is at first sight
apparent.
_S’iva_ is said to have had three eyes, symbolic of the three
dimensions of time. A serpent, denoting the measurement of time by
years, formed his necklace. A second necklace of human skulls marked
the lapse and revolution of ages, and the extinction and succession
of the generations of mankind. He holds a trident in one hand,
signifying that the attributes of the other gods are united in him.
S’iva is also called _Trilôchana_ (three looks--_lôchan_, the eye, the
look). Pausanias tells us that Zeus was honoured with the name of
_Triophthalmos_ (three-eyed), and that a statue of Jupiter had been
found at the taking of Troy exhibiting the father of the gods with a
third eye in his forehead.
Vishnu appeared on earth in several incarnations. The Indians look
upon the planets as habitable. The sun was set down as the motor,
directing the movements of these planets, furnishing them with light,
and endowing them with the genial heat of vitality. _Krishna_ (the
black or blue one) was, like the Greek Apollo, the symbol of the sun,
of light, of purity, and of love. He is represented as the promised
Saviour, the eighth incarnation of Vishnu. According to the Vedas, the
Earth complained to Vishnu, and demanded redress. It then received the
promise of a Comforter and of a total renovation. Time is then said to
have hastened to the birth of _Krishna_, ‘that bright offspring of the
gods, who sets forward on his way to signal honours. The world with
its globular, ponderous frame, nodding signs of congratulation, when
the _sweet babe_ will distinguish his mother by her smiles!’ Krishna,
whom the Samaritans believed to have been Joshua, the long hoped-for
Messiah, at last appeared on earth, where he passed a life of a most
extraordinary and incomprehensible nature. He is said to have been
the son of _Devaki_, a virgin, by King _Vasudévas_, but his birth
was concealed for fear of the tyrant _Kansa_, his uncle, to whom it
had been predicted that a child, born of that mother, would destroy
him, and put an end to his dominion. Krishna had to hide, and was
brought up in _Mal’hurâ_ by honest herdsmen. He performed most amazing
miracles, saved multitudes by his supernatural powers, raised the dead,
and descended into the infernal regions of Pátàla, where the king of
serpents, Séshánàga (suggestive of the name of Satana), ruled, that he
might reanimate the six sons of a pious Brahman, who had been killed
in battle. Krishna obtained a glorious victory on the banks of the
_Yamuná_ over the great serpent _Kaliya Nága_, which poisoned the air,
destroying the herds of that region. _Apollo_ also destroyed with his
arrows the serpent Python. The whole legend, in both instances, took
its origin in the action of the rays of the sun, purifying the air, and
dispersing the noxious vapours of the atmosphere, which bred loathsome
animals. Krishna and Apollo are thus identical in their actions.
Krishna is disappointed by Tulasi, Apollo by Daphne; both conceptions
liked the companionship of shepherds and shepherdesses. The _Tulasi_
(or lotus) was sacred to Krishna, as the _Laurus_ (laurel) to Apollo.
These and similar legends ought to be studied by artists to enable
them not only to understand Indian art from a higher point of view,
but to learn that many a monstrous form had a sacred symbolic meaning,
that outward signs may be hallowed by hidden conceptions; and that,
wherever this is the case, art will not succeed in reaching the
bright spheres of beauty. The finest sculptured Durga without her
necklace of human skulls, the protruding red tongue, the four arms
with outstretched fingers balancing severed human heads, &c., would
no longer convey to the mind of an Indian worshipper the idea of the
goddess of valour and wisdom. Thus we may understand how a baked clay
Indian idol, in spite of its revolting form, may be the symbol of some
grand idea, through which it obtains value in the eyes of the credulous
believer. In considering the causes that produced the peculiar
development of Indian art, we must not omit to refer to the continually
increasing power of the Brahmans.
Symbolism and mysticism were used by the priests of all ancient
nations for thousands of years in preparing intoxicating draughts of
superstition for the people, and proving the necessity for making
sacrifices. At first depraved passions only were to be sacrificed,
but by degrees they tried to typify those passions by animals,
with analogous propensities. Goats became the representatives of
licentiousness; bulls, types of indomitable fury and insubordination;
and these animal types were offered to the gods. As soon as the priests
had convinced the people that the blood of animals, the smoke from
their burning bodies, the odour of roasting sheep, might appease the
anger of S’iva, fanaticism went a step further, and drew human beings
into the awful vortex of prejudice, and thousands of men and women were
crushed, joyfully screaming, under the heavy wheels of Jugurnaut’s,
S’iva’s, or Harris’s cars. Men and women were burned alive;
intellectual progress stopped, asceticism and blind submission to
priestly despotism were enforced, and the possibility of a progressive
art was crushed for thousands of years.
This desolate state of society required reform, and _Manû_ stepped
forward. He divided society into four distinct layers: the Brahmans,
Kshattryas, Vaisyas, and S’udras, of which the two first were Aryans,
the third caste Turanians, and the fourth Negroes; consequently, in
spite of the excellence of his laws, which were assumed to have been
dictated by Brahma himself, no real art was possible.
The Indians have two great national epic poems, containing nearly the
whole substance of all the epic poems of the other Aryan races, and
the many scenes from the Ramâyâna and Mahâbhârata in carvings and
sculptures stand in the same relation to Greek art, as these poems
to the Iliad and Odyssee. In both, scenes of heroism are displayed;
but, whilst symmetry and proportion rule in the Greek poems, fantastic
irregularity, wild incongruities, exaggerations and impossibilities
are heaped up in the Indian. The beauty of some thought is effaced by
overburdened metaphors, gushing forth in an endless stream like the
waters of the Ganges. There are passages in the 28,000 double verses
of the Ramâyâna surpassing anything written.
As an indisputable proof I will quote a few lines from the opening
passages of the Ramâyâna. The gods are assembled before the first,
incomprehensible cause, and address it in the following words:--
O Thou, whom _three_fold might and splendour veil,
_Maker_, _Preserver_, and _Transformer_, hail!
Thy gaze surveys this world from clime to clime,
Thyself immeasurable in space and time:
To no corrupt desires, no passions prone:
Unconquered conqueror, infinite, unknown;
Though in one form Thou veil’st Thy might divine,
Still, at thy pleasure, every form is Thine.
Pure crystals thus prismatic hues assume,
As varying lights and varying tints illume;
Men think Thee absent, Thou art ever near;
Pitying those sorrows which Thou ne’er canst fear.
Unsordid penance Thou alone canst pay;
Unchanged, unchanging--old without decay:
Thou knowest all things--who Thy praise can state?
Createdst all things--Thyself uncreate!
The endeavour to give forms to such sublime abstractions made the
Indians lose their regulating power in pictorial and plastic art. A god
was to be made powerful, and he was provided with four or twenty arms,
and three heads. The miraculous and symbolic were the greatest enemies
of Indian art.
In the Mahâbhârata, exceeding Homer’s combined poems seven times in
quantity, having not less than 110,000 double verses, we read of
sentiments, feelings, and deeds which are our own--but nothing is
within the pale of the credible. The birth of all the heroes is
miraculous. Their deeds surpass the standard of human acts. They
constantly associate with the gods, talk, argue, and dispute with
them; their palaces are of immeasurable grandeur and splendour: ivory
gates inlaid with jewels, golden pillars, diamond thrones, glittering
with the splendour of a thousand suns; their armies are reckoned by
millions; their heroes uproot trees, and kill hundreds of thousands at
one blow; time and space have no meaning with them. Kings reign 27,000
years; Prathama-Raja reigned 6,300,000 and lived 8,400,000 years.[1]
How could art in a higher sense exist under such conditions?
[1] By striking off the zeros, which are put on by the
Brahmans _out of respect_, the figures may be reduced to
some natural compass of possibility.
Art in a more comprehensible form appeared in India only when Buddha
came to attempt a second regeneration of the people. He abolished
castes, preached equality and freedom, and succeeded in awakening a
high force of artistic activity in the dreamy Indians. But their art
was altogether confined to the construction of rock-hewn temples, of
stupas, topes, and religious buildings--architectural constructions in
comparison with which even our greatest cathedrals dwindle into mere
child’s play. Their works of art are tinged with the same exaggerations
as their great heroic poems, and when Buddhism was stamped out
in its birth-place about the seventh century A.D., the Brahmans
constructed their temples, vying with those of the Buddhist artists in
architectural grandeur. They went back to their monstrosities, but they
could no longer check the artistic power of the Aryan spirit.
The rock-hewn and isolated temples of India have details in stucco,
of ornamentation, foliage, and general decoration, which, like their
mythology, their heroic poems, and their abstruse philosophy, went
through all the artistic metamorphoses of pliable, plastic, elastic and
solid substances. In all we observe an unbounded play of imagination,
uncontrolled by any law of symmetry. The walls are decorated with the
most exquisite shawl and lace patterns, either in stucco or hewn in
stone; a proof that before the application of those delicate forms to
wall decorations they must have existed as textile fabrics of high
finish. The rock-hewn temples exhibit clear imitations of rafters
and cross-beams; wood had, therefore, been long in use before they
attempted to imitate it in stone. Their sculptures are wood-carvings,
terra-cotta or plaster-of-Paris works, turned into stone. The
pliability of the softer materials visibly predominates. The gateways
before the Sanchi Tope (see the masterly cast of one of these in the
South Kensington Museum), though hewn in stone, are a close imitation
of wooden posts and cross-beams joined together. This imitation is so
faithful that even the rough and crooked outlines of the badly-cut
posts and beams are preserved. The richness and variety of their
decorative patterns, as also the minuteness of the details, prove that
such patterns must have been carved in wood or fashioned in clay long
before they were executed in the harder material--stone. Stucco must
have served as a means of transition from wood-carving to sculpture.
In the Ramâyâna the town of Agodhyá, built by _Manû_ (the father
and lawgiver of _man_kind), is thus described: ‘It was adorned with
beautiful palaces, high as mountains, and with houses of many stories;
everything shining as in Indra’s heaven. Its aspect had a charming
effect. The town was enlivened by ever-changing colours; regular
bowers and sweetly-blooming trees delighted the eyes. It was full
of precious stones. Its walls were covered with variegated-coloured
fields resembling a chess board,’ &c.; the latter allusion giving a
description of tesselated or mosaic work with which the walls must
have been decorated. In a description of a palace in the Sakuntalâ,
by Kalidâsa, who lived a century B.C., we read: ‘Over the gate rises
an arch of ivory; above it float flags of a deep yellow hue, the
tassels of which appear to beckon and to call to you: Step in--step
in. The _panels_ of the door are of gold and stucco, glittering like
the diamond breast of a god. Look here! there is a row of palaces
shining like the moon, like shells, like the stem of a water-lily.
_The stucco is laid on as thick as a hand._ Golden steps adorned with
different stones lead to the higher rooms, from which _crystal_
windows surrounded with pearls look down, glittering like the bright
eyes of a beautiful maiden.’ The passage that the stucco was laid
on as thick as a hand can only mean that the ornament was worked in
relief. Richly-painted ornamentation in stucco with mosaic and other
patterns must therefore have existed. These undoubtedly originated,
like the Persian, Assyrian, and Babylonian wall-decorations, in textile
fabrics, which, having been found to perish too quickly, were made of a
stronger, more durable material, preserving, however, all the character
of the original patterns and material.
The Indians are distinguished by a keen observation of nature, and,
so far as the conventional treatment of flowers, fruits, creepers,
trees, and animals is concerned, we may learn much from them; but we
have carefully to avoid their over-ornamentation. In their treatment
of architecture, want of subordination of the single parts to a
well-proportioned total is the greatest fault; in their sculptures
of the human figure, the soft and waving lines predominate, creating
a kind of voluptuous sensuality which is entirely opposed to good
sculpture. Their naturalism is objectionable, and leads to a wild,
fantastic coarseness which can never be pardoned in art. Measure and
harmony are wanting. Gorgeous and mean, powerful and petty, sublime
and ugly, are their products. Indian art, religion, and poetry are so
closely united that it is impossible to understand the one without
a diligent study of the other two. We have in Indian art the first
attempts of humanity to step out of childhood. To children, wisdom
is best communicated in symbols, mystic signs, fables, legends,
and fairy-tales, and therefore Indian art is distinguished by
these characteristics. The _tupo_, _sutupo_ or _sutheouphu_, from
the Sanskrit _stûpa_, a heap (our word _top_) or a pile of earth,
corresponding to a tumulus, was at the same time a symbol of the
religious principles of the Hindoos. It is said of Buddha that he
once preached to his disciples, on the shores of the Ganges, on the
instability of all things, the frailty of human life, on the grief and
sorrows of our existence, comparing life to a water-bubble, consisting
of the four elements and still perishing so quickly. The water-bubble
thus lent its form to the tope and _daghopa_, which latter, according
to W. v. Humboldt, means ‘hider of the body,’ destined for the
reception of Buddha’s relics. The tower which rises inside the tope
is symbolic of the nine incarnations of Vishnu. We have in the Indian
temple, as in our Gothic churches, a homily in stone. The arched dome
has to remind us of the perishableness of life; the daghopa, with its
seven or nine divisions, tells us that there is hope for the immortal
soul to reach heaven through seven or nine degrees of purification. The
protecting canopies (umbrellas) are symbolic of Buddha’s intercession,
which he is sure to accord, if we only recognise the _nihilism_
(nothingness) of our earthly existence.
The religious construction was also extended to every-day utensils, a
tendency which was universal with all the people of the Aryan group.
To these typical ornamentations belong the lotus flower and the tree
and serpent ornament. The religious conception is everything with
the Indian. It is not the form itself that he cares for, but the
religious thought which is expressed emblematically, allegorically, or
symbolically. This is the reason why he clings to his fourteen-armed
divinities. It is God and His powers that he wishes to represent; but,
whenever man attempts to express the incomprehensible or the abstract
in visible and concrete forms, he errs. The soul of the Indian is
absorbed in God: in Him is everything; the world is _without_ Him and
still _within_ Him. All beings take their origin in Him and return
to Him. An everlasting _emanation_ and _absorption_ is continually
proceeding before the eyes of the Indian, and, looking for a type of
this wonderful process, he found it in the ‘_Aswatha_’ tree, the Indian
fig-tree (_Ficus Indica_). The banyan takes root, so to speak, in
the air, grows downwards, grasps the earth with its branches, shoots
upwards again, and repeats this process ‘ad infinitum.’ Everything
coming near its feelers is embraced, covered over, and in this mystic
encircling, annihilated. From time immemorial this sacred tree has
been the _tree of life_, the symbolic tree of the petrifaction,
vivification, and incarnation of God’s spirit in minerals, plants,
animals and man. This pantheistic conception is not favourable to art:
it crushes the powers of the artist, who has to deal with too great an
ideal weight in forms.
There is another species of fig-tree (_Ficus religiosa_) which does not
take root again, but the leaves of which appear eternally to tremble;
it became the symbol of the ever-moving and oscillating spheres filling
the universe. The tree combines two working cosmical forces, it partly
remains the same and still continually changes and varies; it is now
covered only with leaves, by degrees with leaves and blossoms, and at
last with leaves and fruits; then its vitality apparently dying away,
leaves, blossoms, and fruits vanish, to be renewed again with the same
regularity and abundance. The mind, not yet accustomed to account for
every phenomenon by simple or compound gases, globules, or atoms, set
in motion by affinities, is altogether absorbed by the miraculous
phenomena of nature, and, having been kept for thousands of years in
this absorption, is incapable of seeing objects in their proper light.
It sees in every form a metaphysical cause, which leads in ornamental
art to those entwined, confused, monstrous, and bizarre combinations,
which mar _symmetry_, mock _eurythmy_, distort _proportion_, have
no _direction_, and, trying to express the inexpressible, have no
_expression_ at all.
The artist, if he wishes to work in the Indian style, must make himself
acquainted with the feelings that animate the Indian mind. He will
do best by generally using their arabesques, and arranging them after
a careful study of the antique into symmetrical forms. The Indian
conventional treatment of plants in surface-decorations is unsurpassed,
and in this we may learn from them; but we have to beware of their
monotonous excellence, and their everlasting repetitions. We may, here
and there, use their forms, but we must bring order and measure into
the wild and unintelligible chaos. If we want to produce entirely
Indian patterns we must not alter them, or else we destroy their
effect; but we may be original in merely using the form, and endowing
it with a spirit of our own; this being the great advantage of the
historical study of art.
Indian architecture has been well systematised by Mr. Fergusson. We
have in the north the Bengallee, in the south the Dravidian, and in
the west the Chalúkyan style; besides these we have three distinct
religious styles--the Brahmanic, the Buddhistic, and, at a later
period, the Mahomedan.
Turning to the Cis-Himâlâyans, who appear under numberless names of
tribes, nations, and races, and by degrees peopled Assyria, Babylon,
Persia, Greece, Northern Europe, Italy, Spain, France, and England, and
carried religion and civilisation into Egypt; we begin to tread, for
the first time, on really _historical_ ground, for we shall be able to
place events in time absolute.
Persia--the Hebrew Elam, the Indian Paraça, from Pars, or Fars,
or Fardistan--differs entirely in geographical position, climate,
and natural products from China or India. Hekatæos, Artemidoros,
Eratosthenes, and Strabo describe the climate and soil of Persia as
cold and sterile in the north, temperate and fertile in the central
or valley regions, and hot and enervating in the south. We have,
therefore, enterprising activity, energetic courage from the north,
and a counteracting regulating element in the centre, tinged with the
dreamy idleness of the south. The aspect of nature is less oppressive.
Instead of gigantic creepers, the vine, with its juicy grapes, clings
to tall and fruitful trees; bright-eyed gazelles abound; lions and
tigers excite to daring hunts; exquisitely-coloured and fragrant roses
perfume the air, and open the mind to the gentler impressions of a
tender beauty. The Persians, Assyrians, and Babylonians rose to power,
declined, and passed away with all their grandeur; but in these very
changes there were activity and life. The Persians were the first
to proclaim a governing universal _unity_, which endowed men with
forces, enabling them to become virtuous and intellectual _by their own
exertions_. They remained faithful to the first impressions of nature,
in which the Eternal Spirit revealed himself.
The Persians, like the Indians, expressed the cosmical elements of
creation symbolically by means of geometrical signs, which are given
below.
[Illustration: (Five simple shapes, stacked, representing ether, air,
fire, water, and earth)]
[Illustration: (Human-like diagram derived from simple shapes)]
This _five_ in _one_ comprised the creation; it was the work of Chudâ
(Khuda), Choda from the Sanskrit Svadâtta (self-given, God-given).
From the Zend word Chuda, or Choda, we have the words GOTT and GOD.
At a later period man’s imagination soon perceived in these abstract
signs a concrete form; it turned _Cha_ into the head of a being, _Ka_
into the arms, _Ra_ into the chest, _Wa_ into the lower parts of the
body, and _A_ into the feet, and thus the first embryonic, ill-shapen
incarnation, or embodiment, of the creative power of nature was formed.
This embryo, by degrees, developed into the master-pieces of Greek
sculpture.
In Persia, the pure and exalted consciousness of a first,
incomprehensible cause leaving its products, the special manifestations
of its creative power, _free_ in themselves, was fostered and
developed. To the Persians we owe the first clear conception of a God
independent of nature. Spirit and matter are not _one_ with them,
as with the Indians. With the Persians God is separated from His
creation--the universe. God, as the ruling Spirit, acquires subjective
reality; man, His creature, whether good or bad, whether poor or
rich, whether righteous or unrighteous, whether high or low, is, as
His creature, equal and free. Man thus obtained a free position face
to face, if we may say so, with the Supreme Being--the Creator. What
a totally different mode of thinking to that in China or India! In
China man is a mere machine, regulated by stereotyped moral maxims.
In India duties and rights depend on the chance of birth; the Brahman
is a born priest, whether he has talent or not for his vocation; the
Kshattriya, a born soldier, though he may be the greatest coward; the
Vaisya, a born merchant or artisan, in spite of his utter incapacity
for business; and the S’udra, a born slave, though he may be gifted
with greater wisdom than the Brahman, more heroic virtues than the
Kshattriya, and more talent for commerce, trade, or art than the Vaisya.
In Persia the Aryans acquired, for the first time, a kind of collective
freedom, but not yet an individual consciousness as free agents. The
Indian language and Indian metaphysics, in the garb of mythology, were
undoubtedly components of Egyptian, Persian, Assyrian, Chaldæan, and
Babylonian art, and the forms thus produced, in their turn, became
the direct elements out of which Grecian art in its infancy developed
itself.
The Persians are direct descendants of the Zend people. Their language
is nearly the same as Sanskrit. Out of ten Zend words, seven or eight
are Sanskrit.
Persian history may be traced back into time relative; for, when it
passes into time absolute, the advanced state of the people in science,
especially in astronomy, their social condition, and their architecture
and ornamental art, prove that they must have existed in a social bond
for thousands of years, in order to develop and to attain that progress
which excites our astonishment even after the lapse of more than 6,000
years.
Their history may be divided into the following periods:--
1. The mythic period, from an unknown time down to the foundation of
the vast, well-organised, and powerful Persian empire by Kai-Khorus,
or Kyrus, in the sixth century B.C.
2. The second period affords reliable accounts of the existence of the
empire down to Alexander the Great, from 560 B.C.-330 B.C.
3. The history of the Persians, as members of the Greek-Makedonian
empire, ending with the conquest of Persia by the Arabs from 330
B.C.-137 B.C.
4. The empire of Central Persia, under the Arabs, down to its
extinction by the Mahomedans in 651 A.D.
5. The dominion of the Kaliphs down to its destruction in 1258 A.D.
6. The last period continuing to our own time.
The mythic and historical periods of Persia resemble two diverging
lines, of which the undoubted fact of the reign of Kai-Khorus forms
the connecting point. Whilst the historical line grows more and
more distinct as it proceeds, the mythic line retreats farther and
farther into the dim region of the unknown. Passing from the known
to the unknown, we must assign to the development of Zend thoughts,
institutions, mode of writing, and mode of building, a greater
antiquity than to the Assyrian and Babylonian monuments. Of Persian
remains we possess nothing but skeleton buildings, which, from the
entire absence of connecting walls, lead us to infer that they were
still mere tents, and that the textile fabric had not yet undergone the
further process of incrustation in stucco or stone sculpture.
This is not the case with Nineveh and Babylon, the great towns, or,
as we should say, the great empires, on the Tigris and Euphrates.
Through the indefatigable exertions of the Right Hon. Mr. Layard, M.
Botta, Lord Loftus, and Mr. Rassam, we possess now, in London and
Paris, tablets with records more than 3,000 years old. The boundary
stones prove that some fixed laws regulated territorial property,
even at these remote periods. The personal ornaments, consisting
of mother-of-pearl studs, silver rings, bracelets, gold and pearl
earrings, beads, and shell-bosses with bronze pins, testify to a high
civilisation. The mode of writing in Nineveh and Babylon was borrowed
from the Zend people; and the religious conceptions of the Persians are
undoubtedly older than the already-complicated idolatry based on the
astronomical notions of the Assyrians and Babylonians.
The Zend-Avesta (meaning the living word) may be said to be like an
Egyptian Nile-meter, erected on the primeval soil of history, measuring
the yearly deposits and alluvial sediments of by-gone ages. Through
the pure crystals of myth and poetry we may see the inner formation
of society, whilst from without the vast construction of history is
mysteriously going on. We wander through endless lines of Memnon
statues, all resounding with the legends of past ages, in perusing the
Zend-Avesta, and are suddenly led before the fountain of all matter, at
which the high-priest stands, commanding in the harmony of the seven
planets the birth of the world, and the origin of all things.
Our first parents, according to the Zend-Avesta, dwelt in _Eriene
Veedjo_, or _Iran Veji_, or Aria, Aturia, Asshuria, meaning the
_fiery_ or _bright_ land, figuratively the blessed land, in a happy
garden, the paradise, assigned to them by _Ormuzd_--contraction of
_Ahura-Mazda_ (the divine Being or the Great Lord). From this they were
driven by Agrômainyus, _Ahriman_, the murderer from the beginning,
who changed the seasons, transforming the _seven_ beautiful summer
months into _ten_ cold and dreary winter months, leaving only _two_
tolerably warm months. The division of the year into _twelve_ months
is clearly proved by this mythic statement. Can anyone count the ages,
and describe the means by which Persians, Chaldæans, Medes, Egyptians,
and Indians arrived at a systematic arrangement of time, dividing
the year into twelve months? After the reign of the Abads (fathers,
_abbas_) _Azer-Abad_ ruled; then _Dshey-Afram, Kedor-la-Omer_ (Cadam,
Adam) followed; he ruled 560 years, and attained the venerable age of
one thousand years. We find here, as in all old records, the tendency
to ascribe to man a longevity which he has long lost. Like shadows
which are more gigantic in the rising and setting sun than in the
broad mid-day, historical facts in the first dawn of consciousness are
exaggerated and turned into fables, which again vanish in the bright
light of scientific criticism. _Cadam_ was followed by _Siamek_, who
was succeeded by _Tahamur_, who conquered the Devas, or evil spirits.
He learned from them the art of writing and reading, constructed
aqueducts and viaducts, and taught his people music and the use of
iron. The Aryans on this side of the Himâlâyas had passed the savage
state (the _palæolithic_ period of art), entered into the nomadic (the
neolithic period), settled down and used bronze instruments, and then
were taught, _no longer_ as with the Indians, Egyptians, and Greeks _by
a divinity_, but by one of their rulers, to extract iron from the ore
and to work it. With Tahamur we step into the iron or historical age.
_Dshemshid_, the Greek _Achæmenes_, the Biblical _Nimrod_, the
mighty hunter before the Lord, _pierced the earth with a golden
dagger_--allegorically meaning that he improved agriculture. Dshemshid
ruled 616½ years; he built Persepolis, or Takt-i-Dshemshid (the throne
of Dshemshid). He was, however, conquered by _Zahok_ and _sawn into
two pieces_, meaning that the empire of Dshemshid had been divided by
_Zahok_, who was a descendant of the cursed race of Aad. He is said to
have been the _Sesostris_, or _Sesoosis_, of the third dynasty of the
Egyptians, the 332nd king after Menes the builder of Memphis, a great
conqueror who went to India, took possession of Thracia and Skythia,
and united Æthiopia, Libya, and Egypt into one mighty empire in the
fortieth century B.C. He is also said to have been _Ninus_, who with
Semiramis, the night-born queen of doves, and the daughter of the
water-sprung _Derceto_, is set down as the builder of Nineveh, and
the founder of the empire of Babel. Takt-i-Dshemshid existed before
either Nineveh or Babylon; its priority is borne out not only by these
records, but, as we have said, by the very ruins left of the Persian
metropolis. The name _Parsagad_, or _Passagarda_, means ‘_camp_ of the
Persians,’ and points to an early, unsettled state of society; as also
do the ruins, which may be divided into two classes:--
1. The ancient Persian monuments of Dshemshid.
2. The monuments of the reign of the Sassanides.
The name Persepolis was first used by the Greek historiographers who
accompanied Alexander the Great, to denote that part only of the vast
town in which the tomb of Kyrus was situated, and this gave rise to
much confusion.
Passagarda, Isthakr, or Estakar, was situated on the border of one
of the richest and most beautiful plains of Central Asia, watered by
the Bendemir (the Araxes of the ancients), and surrounded by lofty
mountains, ‘whose rugged masses rise from the verdant plain like
islands from the ocean.’
The _oldest_ monuments are:--
1. The ruins of the palace now called by the Arabs _Tshil-Minar_ (the
forty columns), and two great tombs close by.
2. Four other tombs, about four and a half English miles to the
north-west, and in the plains of Murghab the ruins of Passagarda,
built by Kyrus to commemorate his victory over Astyages, who came from
Hamadan (Ecbatana). Here is situated the pyramidically-constructed tomb
of Kyrus, made of white marble blocks. Farther north are the ruins of
_Bisutun_.
Passing to the monuments under the reign of the _Sassanides_; they
consist of reliefs and inscriptions hewn in rock at a distance of about
four and a half miles from the ruins of Persepolis. They are called
_Naksh-i-Rustam_ (the image of Rustam), because it was assumed that the
exploits of this hero were here glorified. De Sacy, in his ‘Mémoires
sur diverses Antiquités de la Perse,’ has explained the inscriptions
as referring to the kings of the Sassanide dynasty. The reliefs are
portraits of these kings, recognisable by their head-dresses.
The distance from Passagarda to Tshil-Minar is about forty-nine English
miles, and this space is crowded with Persian monuments. It is most
probable that the more recently-made subdivisions did not exist, but
that the capital of the ancient Persian empire extended from Passagarda
to Tshil-Minar, including Isthakr, Naksh-i-Rustam, and the king’s
palace, called by the Greeks Persepolis. The palace was cut out of
the beautiful grey marble rock towering over it, and stood on three
well-defined, gradually-rising platforms. The arrangement was like that
of the Indian, Egyptian, and later Greek temples; the first terrace
corresponding to the Pronaos, where the people paid their homage to the
king; the second to the Naos, where the ambassadors of the different
nations assembled; and the third to the Adytum, where the king had his
special temple and private abode. The whole foundation was constructed
of bold Kyklopean masonry.
At the gates stood colossal fabulous animals, fantastic representations
combined of the lion, the bull, the horse, the wild ass, the
rhinoceros, the ostrich, the eagle, the scorpion, and the unicorn.
Besides these there were winged and horned animals, and others having
the winged body of a lion, the feet of a horse, and the head of a man,
with well-curled, long beard and crowned with the tiara--the symbol of
the king’s power, endowed with intellect, force, and swiftness. The
bull with the Persians was, like Nundi with the Indians, Apis with the
Egyptians, and Taurus with the Greeks, a sign of strength and power.
The capitals of Persian columns were not yet made to support a heavy
stone weight, but only a light wooden beam. The foundation walls
were, like those of Nineveh and Babylon, covered with sculptures, the
designs of which were all of textile origin. But in these sculptures,
as in those of Kouyunjik and the Palace of Nimrod, the theological, or
religious, and symbolical element is entirely left in the background.
We have the friends, relations, and servants of the king; tributaries
submitting to kings; officers holding fly-flaps of feathers; horses
crossing rivers; kings hunting and slaying lions; armies before
besieged towns; warriors returning from battle; battering rams; chains
to destroy the action of rams; soldiers mining ramparts; infantry with
bows and shields; removals of cattle and spoil from captured cities;
boats floating on rivers; galleys going to sea; damsels and children
with musical instruments; and mathematical tablets with calculations
of square roots. We have man active, warring, scientific, and only
here and there some scenes of a religious character, and these more
frequently in Nineveh and Babylon.
The cause of this phenomenon was the religion of the Zend people.
Its founder was Zarathustra, Zerdusht, Σοροάθεος {Soroatheos},
Zoroaster--partly a mythical, partly a real person. His name appears to
have been derived from the Sanskrit Sûrya-dêvas, meaning ‘the Sun-god.’
According to Aristotle Zoroaster lived 6,000 years before Plato. The
Biblical Abram, Sesostris the Egyptian king, and Moses, were all
honoured by this name. Svedius mentions a Zoroaster 500 years before
the Trojan war. The historical Zoroaster, the compiler of the religious
tenets of the Zend people in the Zend-Avesta, lived about 589 B.C.; he
was therefore a contemporary of Confucius, Pythagoras, Jeremiah, and
Ezra. He received the holy books from Ormuzd on Mount Elbruz.
The Zend-Avesta assumes _one_ Universal Being, clothed in an outward
form, but this form is _Light_. Light is neither a serpent, nor a
stone, nor a four-handed monster, nor a three-headed Brahmā, nor a
bull, owl, or hawk; it is a simple manifestation, it has no particular
existence, it perceptibly pervades universality. It admits of a highly
symbolical interpretation; it is virtue, it is truth, proficiency,
knowledge, and directing will. Light involves an opposite--darkness,
just as virtue has an antithesis--evil. Both light and darkness took
their origin in the unlimited All (Zeruane-Akerene). We have here
clearly a purer Trinitarian conception. We have (1) the Infinite
All, producing (2) light or good (Ormuzd), and (3) darkness or evil
(Ahriman). With the Indians _Brahmā_ is ether; _Vishnu_, water; and
_S’iva_, fire; and in spite of all spiritualisation we have _matter_
before us. The Persians, in becoming conscious of light and darkness,
destroyed the innocence of mankind, but proclaimed to the world _moral_
consciousness. Without a knowledge of evil there is no knowledge of
good; to be virtuous is to know the evil and to do the good.
This led the Cis-Himâlâyans a step further. The two opposing
phenomena, light and darkness, were placed, like good and evil, purity
and impurity, right and wrong, truth and falsehood, knowledge and
ignorance, in eternal conflict. Creation was thus considered as in
everlasting strife. This strife was life-activity in honour of Ormuzd
or Ahriman. This activity was carried beyond this world; for the
followers of Ormuzd, there was a heaven, and for the followers of
Ahriman, a hell in the future. Ormuzd had _Fervers_ as attendants;
Ahriman, _Dews_ or _Devas_ (in Keltic _Dusii_, devils). On the Persian
and Assyrian slabs we see, floating over the heads of the kings, their
winged portraits; these represent their protecting Fervers, one of whom
continually watched over each good man, and protected him from the
influences of Ahriman’s servants.
The worship of Ormuzd, in whose sight all creatures were _equal_, but
equally dependent, was threefold:--
(_a_) _Pure thoughts_, through which alone we may approach the
beginning of all things, wisdom and light--God.
(_b_) _Pure words_, the word of God (the Logos), which is no longer
personified as some visible form, but is the mere vibration of the
spirit of God, embodied in abstract signs in the Zend-Avesta.
(_c_) _Pure deeds_, accomplished by one’s own efforts, as we are
endowed with perfect individual freedom.
This religion was the cause why the Persians had no special temples,
but only small altars. The vaulted azure heavens were the glorious
temple of Ormuzd, which he was compelled to share with Ahriman.
Neither light nor darkness, however, could be carved or painted; the
dynamic force of the artists was therefore directed to matter-of-fact
scenes, to ornamentations, showing a better balance between forms and
ideas. The rosette, the palmette, the sun with its disc, the moon,
the pine-cone, the pomegranate, intermixed with clearly-defined, and
not much entwined, geometrical patterns, were the principal means of
ornamentation.
At a later period a tendency to allegorical and emblematic figures
appeared. The artists composed cherubim, chimeras, basilisks, griphons,
kentaurs, and sphinxes; undoubtedly influenced by Indian and Egyptian
ideas, for Nineveh and Babylon were the ancient Venice and Genoa of
the far East, situated as they were on the commercial high-roads, the
twin-rivers, the Tigris and the Euphrates. The Babylonian textile
fabrics were highly appreciated from time immemorial. Serpents and
trees, winged witches and flying-fish, were first spell-bound in
Babylonian tapestry, and then carved in stone on the walls of Nineveh.
The immense riches which we possess in the British Museum, enable
every student of art-history to see before him the active life of the
Cis-Himâlâyans, whether as Assyrians, Persians, Medes, or Babylonians,
in clear and distinct outlines. Their knowledge of embossing gold and
silver was considerable. Their household furniture, drinking cups,
tables, candelabra, bracelets, and rings are of strictly _architectural
construction_. We miss that overburdening confusion in ornamentation
which distinguishes the Indian products; and the more correct
treatment of ornamental outlines, especially to be seen in their
mosaics and tesselated pavements, approaches Greek forms.
The commercial spirit, which swayed this portion of the river-valley of
the Tigris and Euphrates, engendered a powerful activity in a practical
direction. Whilst we build railways--the Babylonians dug canals,
connected the two rivers, and constructed aqueducts. They built palaces
at Nineveh, castles (El Kassr) at Babylon, and an immense nekropolis at
Vurka, about 180 English miles from Bagdad, and about 8 miles to the
east of the Euphrates. At every step in the interior of these ruins
we find clay-coffins piled up to a height of from 15-20 feet. All
these ruins are now covered with saltpetre, small shells and broken
pottery. The remains of the walls are from 12-22 feet thick, partly of
unbaked and partly of baked bricks. The construction everywhere closely
imitates wood-work, and the decoration reproduces textile fabrics such
as carpets and striped tent covers. There are capitals in stucco of the
Ionic and even of the Corinthian type; though the leaves are those of
the palm-tree instead of the Acanthus. The volute of the Ionic capital
is rather in the form of two serpents drinking from a cup, than in the
form of rams’ horns. We might call this old Babylonian stucco capital,
the proto-Ionic type.
On the two shores of the Euphrates, as far as Babylon, coffins of green
glazed clay and small terra-cotta tablets with cuneiform inscriptions
have been found by thousands. These coffins were imitations of
dead bodies, swathed in cloths and tied with cords. In addition
to this reproduction of textile fabrics in clay, we find with the
Cis-Himâlâyans a tendency to overlay wood-carvings with metal coatings.
When they advanced more in metallotechnic they still held to patterns
which clearly had their origin in wood-carvings. The plant-like forms
predominate; then we have the quilloche, palm-leaves, or feathers
arranged in the form of palm-leaves, and the pine-cone, which is often
used in eurythmical variation with the conventionally-treated open or
closed tulips, and open or closed lotus flowers.
The pictorial art of the Assyrians and Babylonians shows us two
distinct periods--an older and a more recent one. The older works had
a bluish-green ground; the later a light, either whitish or yellowish,
ground. In both styles the outlines are marked strongly in black or
dark red. In the older, the sinews are more rope-like and less correct
in their anatomy. In the more recent style a finer treatment, and a
more correct knowledge of the human frame, may be traced. Wild animals
are reproduced with a keen eye of observation, and a strong tendency to
naturalism.
Polychromy was known to them, but it is very difficult to decide
whether they coloured in tempera or in fresco, with wax or by some
other means--perhaps even in oil. The incrustation of clay walls with
baked and painted, and even glazed, tiles it is difficult to explain.
In many instances, as at Vurka, each cone has its own colour, and, by a
proper arrangement, squares, imbrications, diapers, and networks were
produced; but at Babylon and Nineveh the tiles show clear marks of
painting. Diodorus (probably after Ktesias) gives us a description of
the interior circular wall of the royal palace at Babylon, and says:
‘It was decorated with all sorts of coloured human and animal forms
baked in clay, much resembling nature. The whole represented a hunt.
The figures were more than four yards high. Semiramis was to be seen by
the side of her husband Ninus, she killing a panther, he piercing with
his dart a lion.’ The principles of decoration with the Assyrians far
surpass mere ornamentations in geometrical patterns. Dramatic life of
a higher kind is introduced, showing greater artistic power than the
reliefs in stone. The outlines are neither black nor red, the treatment
is tasteful, the colours a tender blue, brown, white or yellow, and the
ground a lightish green. These paintings are not mosaics, as at Vurka.
The baking and glazing must have taken place in the following manner.
The unbaked tiles were arranged and numbered in a horizontal position
on the ground, then they were painted and placed vertically on the
wall as a tapestry decoration. When the wall was finished it must have
been heated, so as to change the light and fluid colours into a kind of
enamel, giving the clay-wall a thin terra-cotta coating.
The utilitarian purpose was everything with the Persians, Assyrians,
and Babylonians. This is evident in their furniture, especially in
their tables, chairs, and footstools. The construction of the frame
was taken from plants and trees, whilst wild animals were used as
silent and obedient domestic creatures. In supporting their furniture
with the legs of the lion, tiger, or leopard, they used these animals
for an excellent ornamental purpose. The legs of the brute were
made to support, the body was turned into a seat, and the head was
conventionally used as a side-ornament for the backs or arms of the
throne or chair. We see in the Cis-Himâlâyans, in accordance with their
greater activity in life, a further progress in art. Merely geometrical
figures do not suffice; not monstrous divinities, but animals and men,
are the most important subjects of sculpture. Their architecture was
without symmetry and proportion, the material of their buildings in
no accordance with the monumental tendencies of their construction,
and their efforts did not carry them further than the vague attempts
of half-settled nomads. Their walls, which once consisted of textile
hangings, retained this character, stretching for thousands of feet
without any interruption, except that the doorways had their colossal
symbolic guards, which to a certain extent relieved the monotony of
the construction. The art of Persia and Assyria is in every sense the
transition-link between nomadic and monumental art.