The shala connected with this vihara measures 94 ft. by 44 ft., and the two are joined together by a verandah measuring 220 ft. in length, adorned by twenty free-standing pillars. At one time the whole of the back wall of this gallery was adorned with a series of frescoes, equalling in beauty and in interest those of Ajunta. As in those at Ajunta, the uninitiated would fail to trace among them any symptoms of Buddhism as generally understood. The principal subjects are processions on horseback, or on elephants. In the latter the number of women exceeds that of the men. Dancing and love-making are as usual prominently introduced, and only one small picture, containing two men, can be said to be appropriated to worship.

With one exception, no man or woman has any covering on their heads, and the men generally have the hair cropped short, and with only very small moustaches on the face. Some half-dozen are as dark as the Indians of the present day. The rest are very much fairer, many as fair as Spaniards, and nearly all wear coloured dresses.

We are not at present in a position to say, and may not for a long time be able to feel sure, who the races are that are represented in these frescoes or in those at Ajunta. Negatively we may probably be justified in asserting that they are not the ancestors of the present inhabitants of Rajputana, nor of any of the native races—Bhîls, Gonds, or such like. Are they Sakas, Yavanas, or any of the trans-Indus tribes who, in the first centuries of the Christian Era flowed into India across that river, bringing with them their arts and religious forms? The style of art, especially at Bagh, is very similar to that of Persia at about the same date.

The date of this group of caves seems hardly doubtful. The earliest could not well have been commenced much before A.D. 500; the date of the latest, if our chronology is correct, could not well be carried down beyond 650 or 700, unless it was, that the troubles that convulsed the rest of India after that date did not reach those remote valleys in Rajputana till some time afterwards.

Salsette.

One of the most extensive, but one of the least satisfactory of all the groups of Indian caves, is that generally known as the Kenheri Caves on the Island of Salsette in Bombay Harbour. The great chaitya cave there, as mentioned above, is only a bad copy of the Karli cave, and was excavated in the beginning of the 5th century, and none of the viharas seem to be earlier. The place, however, must have had some sanctity at an earlier date, for there seems no doubt that a tooth of Buddha was enshrined here in the beginning of the 4th century, when these relics were revolutionising the Buddhist world at least at two diametrically opposite points of the coast of India, at Puri, and in this island.[195] It may have been in consequence of the visit of this relic that the island became holy, and it may have been because it was an island, that it remained undisturbed by the troubles of the mainland, and that the practice of excavating caves lasted longer here than in any series above described. Be this as it may, the caves here go straggling on till they fade by almost imperceptible degrees into those of the Hindu religion. The Hindu caves of Montpezir, Kundoty, and Amboli are so like them, and the change takes place so gradually, that it is sometimes difficult to draw the line between the two religions.

Although, therefore, we have not at Salsette any viharas that can compare with those of Nassick, Ajunta, or Bagh, and they nowhere form a series which might assist us in guessing their dates, yet, just because they are so late, and because they do fade so gradually into the next phase, are they worthy of more attention than has been bestowed upon them.

As these caves are so near Bombay, and so easily accessible, it seems strange that they have lately been so much neglected, and no one seems to have visited, or at least described, the outlying groups. What we know of those of Montpezir or Amboli is derived from Daniell’s drawings,[196] made at the end of the last century, or from the travels of Lord Valentia or Niebuhr.[197] The Kenheri group is better known, and I can speak of them from personal knowledge.

A plan of one has already been given (Woodcut No. 77). It is a two-storeyed vihara, and one of the finest here, though it would not be considered remarkable anywhere else. Another, of which a representation is given in my ‘Rock-cut Temples,’ plate 19, represents Avalokiteswara with ten heads,—the only instance I know of in India, though it is common in Thibet in modern times.[198] The others are generally mere cells, or natural caverns slightly improved by art, and hardly worthy of illustration in a general history, though a monograph of these caves would be a most valuable addition to our scanty stock of knowledge.

Dhumnar and Kholvi.

There are no viharas at either of these places which can at all compare, either in dimensions or in interest, with those already described. The largest, at Dhumnar, is that already given in combination with the chaitya, Woodcut No. 65, and, though important, is evidently transitional to another state of matters. Next to this is one called the Great Kacheri; but it is only a six-celled vihara, with a hall about 25 ft. square, encumbered by four pillars on its floor; and near the chaitya above alluded to is a similar hall, but smaller and without cells. At Kholvi there is nothing that can correctly be called a vihara at all. There is, indeed, one large hall, called Bhim’s home, measuring 42 ft. by 22 ft.; but it has no cells, and is much more like what would be called a shala at Bagh than a vihara. The others are mere cells, of no architectural importance.[199]

The fact seems to be that when these two groups of caves were being excavated Buddhism was fast losing its original characteristics, and fading into the bastard Brahmanism that succeeded it. When that took place, we cannot at present exactly say; but I cannot help fancying that this religion may have lingered on, and flourished in the remote wilds of Rajputana[200] or in the island of Salsette long after it had been driven from the neighbourhood of the great cities and from the populous and well-cultivated plains; and these caves, especially those of Kholvi, may have been excavated in the 8th or even in the 9th century of our era.

Ellora.

At Ellora there are numerous viharas attached to the Viswakarma, or the great chaitya above described (p. 128). Like it, however, they are all modern, but on that very account interesting, as showing more clearly than elsewhere the steps by which Buddhist cave-architecture faded into that of the Hindus. Every step of the process can be clearly traced here, though the precise date at which the change took place cannot yet be fixed with certainty.

The great vihara, which is also evidently contemporary with the chaitya, is known as the Dehrwarra, and, as will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 88), differs considerably from any of those illustrated above. Its dimensions are considerable, being 110 ft. in depth by 70 ft. across the central recesses, its great defect being the lowness of its roof. Its form, too, is exceptional. It looks more like a flat-roofed chaitya, with its three aisles, than an ordinary vihara; and such it probably was intended to be, and, if so, it is curious to observe that at Bedsa (Woodcut No. 49) we had one of the earliest complete viharas, looking like a chaitya in plan; and here we have one of the latest, showing the same confusion of ideas; a thing very common in architectural history, where a new style or a new arrangement generally hampers itself with copying some incongruous form, which it casts off during its vigorous manhood, but to which it returns in its decrepitude—a sure sign that it is passing away.

Close to the Viswakarma is a small and very pretty vihara, in which the sanctuary stands free, with a passage all round it, as in some of the Saiva caves further on; and the appearance of the warders on each side of the door would lead one rather to expect an image of Siva inside than the Buddha which actually occupies it. The details, however, of its architecture are the same as in the great cave.

Communicating with this one is a small square vihara, the roof of which is supported by four pillars of the same detail as the Dookya Ghur, which is the cave next it on the north; but though surrounded by cells it has no sanctuary or images.

Higher up the hill than these are two others containing numerous cells, and one with a very handsome hall, the outer half of which has unfortunately fallen in; enough, however, remains to show not only its plan, but all the details, which very much resemble those of the last group of viharas at Ajunta.

In the sanctuaries of most of these caves are figures of Buddhas sitting with their feet down. On each side of the image in the principal one are nine figures of Buddhas, or rather Bodhisatwas, seated cross-legged, and below them three and three figures, some cross-legged, and others standing, probably devotees, and one of them a woman.

Neither of these caves have been entirely finished.

There is still another group of these small viharas, called the Chumarwarra, or (if I understand correctly) the Chumars’ (or ‘shoe-makers’) quarter. The first is square, with twelve pillars on the same plan as those at Ajunta, though the detail is similar to the Viswakarma. There are cells, and in the sanctuary Buddha sitting with the feet down; it never has been finished, and is now much ruined.

The second is similar in plan, though the pillars are of the cushion form of Elephanta and the Dehrwarra, but the capitals are much better formed than in the last example, and more ornamented; the lateral galleries here contain figures of Buddha, all like the one in the sanctuary, sitting with their feet down, and there are only two cells on each side of the sanctuary.

The last is a small plain vihara with cells, but without pillars, and much ruined.

The whole of the caves in this group resemble one another so much in detail and execution that it is difficult to make out any succession among them, and it is probable that they were all excavated within the same century as the Viswakarma.

The next three temples are particularly interesting to the antiquarian, as pointing out the successive steps by which the Buddhistical caves merged into the Brahmanical.

The first is the Do Tal, or Dookya Ghur, a Buddhist vihara of two storeys; most of its details are so similar to those above described that it may be assumed to be, without doubt, of the same age. It is strictly Buddhistic in all its details, and shows no more tendency towards Brahmanism than what was pointed out in speaking of the Viswakarma. It apparently was intended to have had three storeys, but has been left unfinished.

The next, or Teen Tal, is very similar to the last in arrangement and detail, and its sculptures are all Buddhistical, though deviating so far from the usual simplicity of that style as almost to justify the Brahmans in appropriating them as they have done.

The third, the Das Avatar, is another two-storeyed cave, very similar in all its architectural details to the two preceding, but the sculptures are all Brahmanical. At first sight, it seems as if the excavation had been made by the Buddhists, and appropriated and finished by their successors. This may be true to a certain extent, but on a more careful examination it appears more probable that we owe it entirely to the Brahmans. It is evidently the earliest Brahmanical temple here, and it is natural to suppose that when the Saivites first attempted to rival their antagonists in cave-temples they should follow the only models that existed, merely appropriating them to their own worship. The circumstance, however, that makes this most probable, is the existence of a pseudo-structural mantapa, or shrine of Nundi, in the courtyard; this evidently must have been a part of the original design, or the rock would not have been left here for it, and it is a model of the usual structural building found in Saiva temples in different parts of India. This is a piece of bad grammar the Buddhists never were guilty of; their excavations always are caves, whilst the great characteristic of Brahmanical excavations, as distinguished from that of their predecessors, is that they generally copied structural buildings: a system that rose to its greatest height in the Kylas, to be described further on. The Buddhist excavations, on the contrary, were always caves and nothing else.

It is not easy, in the present state of our knowledge, to determine whether the Ellora Buddhist group is later or earlier than those of Dhumnar and Kholvi. It is certainly finer than either, and conforms more closely with the traditions of the style in its palmiest days; but that may be owing to local circumstances, of which we have no precise knowledge. The manner, however, in which it fades into the Hindu group is in itself sufficient to prove how late it is. If we take A.D. 600 as the medium date for the Viswakarma and its surroundings, and A.D. 750 as a time when the last trace of Buddhism had disappeared from western India, we shall probably not err to any great extent; but we must wait for some inscriptions or more precise data before attempting to speak with precision on the subject.

A great deal more requires to be done before this great cartoon can be filled up with anything like completeness; but in the meanwhile it is satisfactory to know that in these “rock-cut temples,” eked out by the few structural examples that exist, we have a complete history of the arts and liturgies of the Buddhists for the thousand years that ranged from B.C. 250 to A.D. 750; and that, when any one with zeal and intelligence enough for the purpose will devote himself to the task, he will be able to give us a more vivid and far more authentic account of this remarkable form of faith than can be gathered from any books whose existence is now known to us.

Junir.

When the history of the cave-temples of western India comes to be written in anything like a complete and exhaustive manner, the groups situated near and around the town of Junir, about half-way between Nassick and Poonah, will occupy a prominent position in the series. There are not, it is true, in this locality any chaityas so magnificent as that at Karli, nor any probably so old as those at Bhaja and Bedsa; but there is one chaitya, both in plan and dimensions, very like that at Nassick and probably of the same age, and one vihara, at least, quite equal to the finest at that place. The great interest of the series, however, consists in its possessing examples of forms not known elsewhere. There are, for instance, certainly two, probably three, chaitya caves, with square terminations and without internal pillars, and one circular cave which is quite unique so far as we at present know.

These caves have long been known to antiquarians. In 1833 Colonel Sykes published a series of inscriptions copied from them, but without any description of the caves themselves.[201] In 1847, Dr. Bird noticed them in his ‘Historical Researches,’ with some wretched lithographs, so bad as to be almost unintelligible; in 1850, Dr. Wilson described them in the ‘Bombay Journal;’ and in 1857 Dr. Stevenson republished their inscriptions, with translations, in the eighth volume of the same journal; and lastly Mr. Sinclair of the Bombay Civil Service, wrote an account of them in the ‘Indian Antiquary’ for February, 1874. Notwithstanding all this, we are still without drawings or photographs which would enable us to understand their peculiarities. The late Dr. Bhau Daji had a set of negatives taken, but never would allow any prints to be made from them; and, when Mr. Burgess visited the caves last autumn, he did not take a photographic apparatus with him, as he depended on obtaining, through Government, the use of Dr. Bhau Daji’s negatives. This has not yet been effected, and till it is this series is hardly available for the purposes of our history, yet it can hardly be passed over in silence.

The great peculiarity of the group is the extreme simplicity of the caves composing it. They are too early to have any figures of Buddha himself, but there are not even any of these figures of men and women which we meet with at Karli and elsewhere. Everything at Junir wears an aspect of simplicity and severity, due partly to the antiquity of the caves of course, but, so far as at present known, unequalled elsewhere. One exception—but it is in the most modern cave here—is that Sri, with her two elephants pouring water over her, occupies the frontispiece of a chaitya cave.[202] Though so ubiquitous and continuous through all ages, it is seldom this goddess occupies so very important a position as she does here; but her history has still to be written.

The annexed plan and section (Woodcuts Nos. 89, 90) will explain the form of the circular cave above alluded to. It is not large, only 25 ft. 6 in. across, while its roof is supported by twelve plain octagonal pillars which surround the dagoba. The tee has been removed from the dagoba to convert it into a lingam of Siva, in which form it is now worshipped; a fact that suggests the idea—I fancy a very probable one—that the lingam is really a miniature dagoba, though bearing a different meaning now, and that it was really originally copied from that Buddhist emblem. The interest of the arrangement of this cave will be more apparent when we come to describe the dagobas at Ceylon, which were encircled with pillars in the same manner as this one. Meanwhile the annexed representation (Woodcut No. 91) of a circular temple from the Buddhist sculptures at Bharhut may enable us to realise, to some extent at least, the external form of these temples, which probably were much more common in ancient times than any remains we now possess would justify us in assuming.

Besides this group at Junir, there is one apparently equally extensive near Aurungabad, and two others, still more extensive, at Daraseo, or Darasinha, and at Hazar Kotri, in the Nizam’s territories; but they are even less known than the Junir group, and there are several others whose existence is only known to us by hearsay. If Mr. Burgess is enabled to continue his explorations a few years longer, they may be brought within the domain of history. At present, like those at Junir, they are not available for any historical or scientific purpose.

CHAPTER VII.

GANDHARA MONASTERIES.

As mentioned above, it is from their coins, and from them only, that the names of most of the kings of Bactria and their successors have been recovered; but we have not yet found a vestige of a building that can be said to have been erected by them or in their age, nor one piece of sculpture that, so far as we now know, could have been executed before their downfall, about B.C. 130. This, however, may be owing to the fact that Bactria proper has long been inhabited by fanatic Moslems, who destroy any representations of the human form they meet with, and no excavations for hidden examples have yet been undertaken in their country; while it is still uncertain how far the influence of the true Bactrians extended eastward, and whether, in fact, they ever really possessed the valley of Peshawur, where all the sculptures yet discovered have been found. No one, in fact, suspected their existence in our own territory till Lieutenants Lumsden and Stokes, in 1852, partially explored the half-buried monastery at Jamalgiri, which had been discovered by General Cunningham in 1848. It is situated about thirty-six miles north-east from Peshawur, and from it these officers excavated a considerable number of sculptures, which afterwards came into the possession of the Hon. E. Clive Bayley. He published an account of them in the ‘Journal of the Bengal Asiatic Society,’ in 1853, and brought the collection itself over to this country. Unfortunately, they were utterly destroyed in the disastrous fire that occurred at the Crystal Palace, where they were being exhibited in 1860, and this before they had been photographed, or any serious attempt made to compare them with other sculptures.

Since that time other collections have been dug out of another monastery eight miles further westward, at a place called Takht-i-Bahi, and by Dr. Bellew at a third locality, ten miles southward, called Sahri Bhalol, some of which have found their way to this country; and two years ago Dr. Leitner brought home an extensive collection, principally from Takht-i-Bahi. The bulk of the sculptures found in these places have been deposited in the Lahore Museum, where upwards of 800 specimens of this class of art now exist, and many are being added every season. Some of these have been photographed,[203] and these representations, together with the specimens brought home, are sufficient to enable a student to obtain a fair general idea of the art they represent. The worst thing is, that the excavations have been so unsystematically carried on that it is impossible to ascertain in most instances where the sculptures came from,[204] and in almost no instance can the position of any one piece of sculpture be fixed with anything like certainty.[205]

The following plans (Woodcuts Nos. 92, 93), of the two principal monasteries which have been excavated in the vicinity of Peshawur, will explain their arrangements in so far as they have yet been made out. As will be seen at a glance, they are very similar to each other,

or at least consist of the same parts. First a circular or square court, AA, surrounded by cells, too small for residence, and evidently intended to contain images, though none were found in situ. In the centre of each stands a circular or square platform or altar, approached by steps. The circular one at Jamalgiri is adorned with cross-legged, conventional, seated figures of Buddha, the square one at Takht-i-Bahi by two rows of pilasters one over the other.[206] Beyond this is an oblong court, BB, called the pantheon, from the number of images, small models of topes, and votive offerings of all sorts, that are found in it. It, like the last court, is surrounded by niches for images. Beyond this again the vihara or residence, CC, with the usual residential cells. At Takht-i-Bahi there is a square court, D, surrounded by a high wall with only one door leading into it. A corresponding court exists at Jamalgiri; but so far detached that it could not be included in the woodcut. It is called the cemetery, and probably not without reason, as Turner in his ‘Embassy to Thibet’[207] describes a similar enclosure at Teshoo Loomboo in which the bodies of the deceased monks were exposed to be devoured by the birds, and what happened there in 1800 may very well have been practised at Peshawur at a much earlier age.

When we attempt to compare these plans with those of our rock-cut examples in India, we at once perceive the difficulty of comparing structural with rock-cut examples. The monastery or residential parts are the only ones readily recognised. The pantheon does not apparently exist at Ajunta, nor is anything analogous to it attached to other series of caves, but a group of small rock-cut dagobas exists just outside the cave at Bhaja, and a much more extensive one at Kenheri,[208] and similar groups may have existed elsewhere. Numbers of small models of topes and votive offerings are found in the neighbourhood of all Buddhist establishments, and were originally no doubt deposited in some such place as this. The circular or square altar is, however, a feature quite new to us, and takes the place of the dagoba in all the rock-cut chaitya halls. From its having steps to ascend to it, it seems as if it was intended either for a platform from which either a congregation could be addressed, or a prayer offered up to a deity. If, however, it was really a dagoba, as General Cunningham supposes, that difficulty disappears, and on the whole I am inclined to believe he may be right in this decision.

One of the most remarkable ornamental features that adorn this monastery is a series of bas-reliefs that adorn the front of the steps of the stairs leading from the so-called Pantheon to the circular court at Jamalgiri. They are sixteen in number, and each is adorned with a bas-relief containing twenty, thirty, or forty figures according to the subject.[209] Among these the Wessantara and Sama jatakas can easily be recognised,[210] and so may others when carefully examined. Besides these there are representations of the chase, processions, dancing, and domestic scenes of various kinds.

In fact such a series of sixteen bas-reliefs, one over another, is hardly known to exist anywhere else, but is here only an appropriate part of an exuberance of sculptural ornamentation hardly to be matched, as existing in so small a space, in any other building of its class.

The architecture of this monastery seems to have been of singular richness. General Cunningham brought away a dozen of capitals of the Corinthian order, and others exist in the Lahore Museum. As will be seen from the last two illustrations (Nos. 94, 95), they are unmistakably classical, but of a form to which it is not at first sight easy to assign a date. They are more Greek than Roman in the character of their foliage, but more Roman than Greek in the form of their volutes and general design. Perhaps it would be correct to say they are more Byzantine than either, but, till we have detailed drawings and know more of their surroundings, it is difficult to give a positive opinion as to their age.

Not one of these was found in situ, nor, apparently, one quite entire, so that their use or position is not at first sight apparent. Some of them were square, and it is consequently not difficult to see they may have formed the caps of the antæ on each side of the cells, and are so represented in General Cunningham’s plate (15). If this is so, the circular ones must have been placed on short circular pillars, one on each side, forming a porch to the cells. One at least seems to have stood free—like a stambha—and, as the General represents it on plate 48, may have carried a group of elephants on its head.

All these capitals were apparently originally richly gilt, and most of them, as well as some of the best of the sculptures, show traces of gilding at the present day,[212] and, as others show traces of colour, the effect of the whole must have been gorgeous in the extreme. From the analogy of what we find in the contemporary caves at Ajunta and Bagh, as well as elsewhere, there can be little doubt that fresco-painting was also employed: but no gilding, as far as I know, has been found in India, nor indeed any analogue to the Corinthian capital. All the capitals found in India are either such as grew out of the necessities of their own wooden construction, or were copied from bell-shaped forms we are familiar with at Persepolis, where alone in Central Asia they seem to have been carried out in stone. There is little doubt, however, that before the time of the Achæmenians the same forms were used in wood by the Assyrians;[213] and they may have been so employed down to the time of Alexander, if not later. Certain it is, at all events, that this was the earliest form we know of employed in lithic architecture in India, and the one that retained its footing there certainly till long after the Christian Era, and also among the Gandhara sculptures probably to a very late date.

It is not difficult to restore, approximately, the front of the cells in these monasteries, from the numerous representations of them found among the ruins, where they are used as conventional frames for sculptures. It probably was owing to the fact that their fronts may have been adorned with paintings representing scenes from the life of Buddha, or emblems of various sorts, that these miniature representations of them were used to convey the same design in sculpture. The form of the wooden framework which filled the upper part of all the great windows of the chaitya halls, from the earliest known examples, is also used for the same purpose in these Gandhara monasteries. Few things among these sculptures are more common than these semicircular frames, filled with sculpture of the most varied design. They are in fact the counterparts of what would have been carried out in painted glass had they possessed such a material.

It is to be feared that it is hardly likely we shall now recover one of these cells or chapels in so perfect a state as to feel sure of its form and ornamentation. It would, however, be an immense gain to our knowledge of the subject if one were found, for it is hardly safe to depend on restorations made from conventional representations.

Meanwhile there is one monument in India which—mutatis mutandis—reproduces them with considerable exactness. The small detached rath at Mahavellipore is both in plan and dimensions, as well as in design, an almost exact reproduction of these Jamalgiri cells. Its lower front is entirely open, flanked by two detached pillars. Above this are two roofs, with a narrow waist between them—somewhat differently arranged it must be confessed, but still extremely similar. In the Jamalgiri representations of these cells everything is simplified to admit of the display of sculpture. At Mahavellipore all the architectural features are retained, but they are still marvellously alike, so much so, that there seems no doubt this little rath (Woodcut No. 181, p. 328), with its circular termination, is as exact a copy of what a Buddhist chaitya hall was at the time it was carved, as that the great rath (Woodcut No. 66) is a correct reproduction of a Buddhist vihara at the same period.

If this is so, these Gandhara sculptures and these raths represent the chaitya hall of the Buddhists in a much more complicated and elaborate form than we find it in the simple but majestic examples at Karli, Nassick, or Ajunta. The Jamalgiri cells need not be so modern as the rath at Mahavellipore, but they are certainly approaching to it[214] as nearly in date as they are in form.

Quite recently, General Cunningham has dug out a small vihara at Shah Dehri, the ancient Taxila, which seems more ancient than these Peshawur monasteries. As will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 96), it is not only small in dimensions, but simple in its arrangements—as simple, indeed, as any of those at Cuttack or in the western Ghâts. Like them it has a raised bench, not however divided into beds as there, but more like a continuous seat. It no doubt, however, was used for both purposes. Its most remarkable peculiarity, however, is its Ionic order. As will be seen, the bases of the pillars are of the usual form, and as correct as any that could be found in Greece or Rome, from before the Christian Era to the age of Constantine, and, though the capital is not fully made out, there can be little doubt what was intended (Woodcut No. 97); twelve coins of Azes were found close by, from which it may be inferred the building was of his age, or belonging to the first century B.C.,[215] and there is nothing in the architecture to militate against this idea. It seems the oldest thing yet found in this province.

The extraordinary classical character and the beauty of the sculptures found in these Gandhara monasteries is of such surpassing interest for the history of Indian art, that it is of the utmost importance their age should be determined, if it is possible to do so. At present, sufficient materials do not exist in this country to enable the general public to form even an opinion on any argument that may be brought forward on the subject; nor will they be in a position to do so till the Government can be induced to spend the trifling sum required to bring some of them home. They are quite thrown away where they now are; here, they would hardly be surpassed in interest by any recent discoveries of the same class. Pending this, the reader must be content with such a statement of the argument as may be put forward by those who have access to photographs and such materials as are not available to the general public.[216] It it is understood that General Cunningham intends to publish photographs of the 165 objects in his collection. When this is done, it will supply the want to a certain extent, but a really correct judgment can only be formed on an actual inspection of the objects themselves.

Among Indian antiquaries there are two different views as to the age of these sculptures, regarding either of which a great deal may be urged with a considerable degree of plausibility. The first is, that the Bactrian Greeks carried with them into Asia the principles of Grecian sculpture and the forms of Grecian architecture, and either during their supremacy or after their expulsion from Bactria established a school of classical art in the Peshawur valley. It further assumes that, when Buddhism was established there under Kanishka and his successors, it bloomed into that rich and varied development we find exhibited in these Gandhara monasteries. This is the view adopted by General Cunningham, who, however, admits that, as all the sculptures are Buddhist, the earliest must be limited to the age of Kanishka, which he assumes to be about B.C. 40,[217] and that they extend to A.D. 100, or thereabouts.

The other theory equally admits the presence of the classical element, derived from the previous existence of the Bactrian Greeks, but spreads the development of the classical feeling through Buddhist art over the whole period during which it existed in the valley, or from the 1st to the 7th or 8th century of our era, and ascribes its peculiar forms as much, if not more, to constant communication with the West, from the age of Augustus to that of Justinian, rather than to the original seed planted there by the Bactrians.

Confining the argument as much as possible to the instances above quoted, either it is that these Corinthian capitals are a local development of forms the Greeks took with them to Bactria, or they were executed under Western influence when the classical orders had lost their original form, after the age of Constantine. We know perfectly the history of the Corinthian capitals in Italy, in Greece, and in Syria, between the ages of Augustus and Aurelian at all events (A.D. 270); and we know that it requires a practised and well-educated eye to distinguish between the capitals of the Pantheon of Agrippa and those last executed at Baalbec or Palmyra. The entablatures show considerable progress, but the capitals were so stereotyped that it is evident, if any Greek or Roman artists had designed capitals in Gandhara during the period just alluded to, we could predicate exactly what they would have been. After Constantine, however, the design of the capitals went wild, if the expression may be used. The practice of springing arches from them, instead of their supporting horizontal architraves, required a total change, and in the West it produced exactly the same effects that we find in Gandhara. The capitals, for instance, in the churches of St. Demetrius and that now known as the Eski Jouma at Salonica, both built in the early part of the 5th century, are almost identical in design with these;[218] and many in the churches in Syria and Asia Minor[219] show the same “abandon” of design, though frequently in another direction.

The presence of little cross-legged figures of Buddha among the foliage of the capitals is another sign of a comparatively modern age. The first prominent example of the practice, I believe, in classical art, seems to be found in the Baths of Caracalla, at Rome (A.D. 312-330);[220] but it certainly did not become common till long afterwards, and only general in what may be called mediæval art.[221] It is not, however, so much in the presence of figures of Buddha on these capitals that I would insist on as an indication of age, as on their presence in the monastery at all.

In the first place, I believe it is correct to state that no statue of Buddha, in any of his conventional attitudes, has been found in India executed as early as the Christian Era. Those on the façade at Karli and in the western caves are avowedly insertions of the 4th or 5th centuries or later. There are none belonging to the eastern caves; nor any found at Buddh Gaya, Bharhut, or Sanchi; nor do I know of any one in India that can be dated before A.D. 100. In these Gandhara monasteries they are very frequent, and of a type which in India would be assumed to be certainly as late as the 4th or 5th century; some of them very much later.

It is true Buddhist books tell us frequently of statues of Buddha having been made at much earlier dates.[222] But Indian books have this fatal defect, that they represent facts and beliefs at the time they were written, or acquired the forms in which we now find them, without much reference to contemporary authorities or facts at the time at which they are supposed to have happened. Consequently, till we get some book that assumed its present shape before A.D. 400,[223] their testimony is of very little avail in the controversy.

Besides these figures of Buddha, there are a great number of figures which General Cunningham supposes represent kings. This can hardly be the case, as they have all got nimbuses or glories at the back of their heads. All have the tika on their foreheads, as Buddha has, and none have any kingly attributes, but all wear the same ornaments and amulets. The first impression was, they may represent Bodhisatwas, or Buddhist saints; but, as no similar figures occur anywhere in India, it is not easy to feel certain on this point. If I may be allowed to hazard a guess, I would suggest that they may represent the patriarchs who presided over the Church from the time of Amanda till it ceased to be a living institution in India. Nagárjuna was one of the most important of these, and, if this theory is correct, his statue will certainly be found among the series; but this is, I fear, a point that must be left for future investigation.[224] The misfortune is, that no inscribed statue has yet been found in Gandhara, and, till it is, all identification must be more or less guess-work or conjecture.

A more important point than the mere presence of these conventional figures of Buddha or of saints in these monasteries, is their excessive reduplication, which renders it probable that they are very much more modern than is generally assumed.

In India, no building or cave is known with a date anterior to, say, A.D. 300 or 400, in which more than one such figure is represented. Even at Amravati they do not occur on the great rail which was erected in the beginning of the 4th century (ante, p. 100), but appear first on the inner rail which was added a century afterwards: and they first occur in such caves as No. 19 and No. 26 at Ajunta, and in the later caves in the island of Salsette, none of which seem to be earlier than A.D. 500, if so early.

In the Gandhara monasteries they exist literally in hundreds—on the base of the altars or stupas, on the walls, and in the cells. The latter is, indeed, the most remarkable peculiarity of any. In no Buddhist monument in India, so far as is known, have the monks been thrust out of their cells to make way for images. The practice is universal with the Jains, and in the latest Buddhist monuments the cells are ignored; but here we have what in all earlier Buddhist monuments would be cells surrounding courts or halls, but all filled with images of Buddha or saints. To such an extent is this carried, that if the plans of these monasteries had been submitted to me, with merely a verbal or written description of their sculptures, I would unhesitatingly have pronounced them to be Jaina temples of the 9th or 10th century. The sculptures, of course, negative any such adscription, but the similarity of their plans is most striking.

Considerable allowance must also be made for the fact that the Mahayana, or Greater Translation, introduced in the north of India by Nagárjuna, was considerably in advance of the Hinayana school of Central India in all complications of ritual observances. Making, however, an allowance of one or even two centuries for this, it is difficult to believe that any of these monasteries yet brought to light are earlier than the 4th or 5th century.

If I am correct in assigning the outer casing of the Manikyala tope to the beginning of the 8th century (ante, p. 83), there is certainly no à priori improbability in this view. The pilasters that surround its base are so similar to those represented in the bas-reliefs of the monasteries[225] that they must belong nearly to the same age. Those of the tope are less classical, it is true, than those of the bas-reliefs, and may, therefore, be more modern; but they cannot be very far apart.

All these statues of Buddha, or of Buddhist saints, in the Gandhara monasteries, have a peculiarity which will interest the Christian archæologist. Without exception, they have a nimbus or circular disc behind their heads. This does not occur at Sanchi in the 1st century of our era, nor, so far as is known, in any sculpture, on any rail, or in any cave, before it appears at Amravati on the great rail, in the 4th century of our era. Earlier examples may be found, but till they are, its presence militates against the idea that these sculptures can be so early as the 1st century after Christ, and, with the other evidence, would seem to indicate a much more modern date.

One other argument seems to bear directly on this point. From what has been said above (ante, p. 76), it appears that the erection of the topes in Gandhara was spread pretty evenly over the whole time that elapsed from the Christian Era till Buddhism ceased to be the religion of the country, in the 7th or 8th century; and that the most flourishing period was about the year A.D. 400, when Fa Hian visited the country. It seems reasonable to suppose that the erection of the monasteries would follow the same course, and that we might expect their greatest development to be simultaneous. To compress the monasteries and their sculptures within the limits of the first century after Christ would seem to violate all the probabilities of the case.

In addition to all this local evidence, when we come to compare these sculptures with those of the western world, especially with those of sarcophagi or the ivories of the lower empire, it seems impossible not to be struck with the many points of resemblance they present. There are many of the Gandhara bas-reliefs which, if transferred to the Lateran Museum, and labelled as “Early Christian,” would pass muster with ninety-nine people out of one hundred who visit that collection. There may be one or two that might be described as belonging to as early an age as that of Hadrian, but generally they would seem of later date.

Among the ivories, those about the time of Constantine present about the same jumble of the classical orders, the same reminiscence of classical art in the figure-sculpture, mixed up with the incongruities borrowed from extraneous sources which it is difficult to account for; but both in their perfections and their faults they seem so distinctly to belong to the same class of art that it is difficult to believe they do not belong to the same age. The great difficulty here is to know what equation we ought to allow for distance in space which may have the same effect as time in producing apparent differences; but this hardly seems to have been of much importance here.

Against all this may be urged the difficulty of understanding how such direct and important influence could have been exercised by the Byzantines in this remote province without its leaving any trace of its existence on the arts of the Parthians or Sassanians, whose kingdom lay between, and without our having any written record of such intimate relations. It is difficult, of course, but, if the facts are as stated above, such negative inferences must make way before the positive testimony of the sculptures themselves. Till within the last very few years no one dreamt of classical art having any such influence at any age on the arts of Gandhara. That being established in contradiction of all previously conceived ideas, the time at which it took place ought to be ascertainable with comparative facility; and, in so far as any written evidence is concerned, may have been as probably at or after the time of Constantine, as at or after that of Augustus.

It would be easy to extend this argument to any length; but without producing the data on which it is based, or giving references to drawings and photographs which have not been published, it would hardly carry conviction to the minds of those who have not access to means of information not yet made public.[226] To avoid, therefore, being tedious, perhaps I may be allowed to state that, having given the best attention to the materials at my command, the conclusion I have arrived at is, that though some of these Gandhara sculptures probably are as early as the 1st century of the Christian Era, the bulk of those at Jamalgiri and more especially those at Takht-i-Bahi, are subsequent to the 3rd and 4th, and that the series extends down to the 8th—till, in fact, the time when Buddhism was obliterated in these countries.

The discovery of some new fact, or of an inscription on a piece of sculpture either with a date or a king’s name that can be recognised, may any day settle beyond dispute which of these views is the correct one. Meanwhile, however, as the evidence at present stands, it seems hardly doubtful that the theory which assigns the more modern date to these sculptures, is that which accords best with all that has hitherto been brought to light, or with the history of the Buddhist religion as at present known.

If this is so, it is evident that the term Græco-Bactrian, or Græco-Buddhist, which has been applied to these sculptures, is a misnomer. The Bactrians may have sown the seeds of a classical style in these parts, but the art we now find there would be more properly called Indo-Roman or Indo-Byzantine, and must have been nourished and kept up by constant communication between the East and the West during the period at which it was most flourishing, which may be described as that intervening between the age of Constantine and that of Justinian.

From what has been said above regarding the sculptures of Bharhut and Sanchi, it appears evident that the Indians had a school of art of their own before they knew anything of the arts of the western world; but that native art seems to have had very little influence on the arts of Gandhara. The western arts, on the contrary, acting through that country, seem to have had considerable influence on those of India at periods subsequent to the Christian Era. It seems at least almost impossible to escape the conviction that the arts of Amravati and the later caves, say of the Gupta period, betray most marked evidence of Western influence, and it seems that it is only through Gandhara that it can have reached them.

So strongly marked is all this that it may become a subject of an interesting investigation to inquire whether the Greeks were not the first who taught the Indians idolatry. There is no trace of images in the Vedas or in the laws of Manu, or any of the older books or traditions of the Hindus. As repeatedly mentioned, there is as little trace of any image of Buddha or Buddhist figures being set up for worship before the Christian Era, or for a century after it. But the earliest, the finest, and the most essentially classical figures of Buddha are to be found in Gandhara, and, so far as we at present know, of an earlier date there than any found in India Proper.

If General Cunningham’s sculptures or the contents of the Lahore Museum could only be made available to the learned in Europe, with the requisite local information, they would, I fancy, at once supersede the meagre and most unsatisfactory written details which have alone come down to us, and would throw a flood of light on one of the most interesting but most obscure chapters of the history of the commerce and of the early intercourse between the western and the eastern world.

Pending this being done, we already know enough to open our eyes to many things that promise to result in the most interesting discoveries, and to teach us to cease to wonder at many things which hitherto appeared inexplicable. If, for instance, it is not true that the King of Taxila, in the first century, spoke good Greek, as Apollonius of Tyana would persuade us he did, we know at least that he practised Greek architecture. If St. Thomas did not visit Gondophares, king of Gandhara, in the same century, many, at least, of his countrymen did, and there is no à priori reason why he should not have done so also. If there are traces of Christian doctrine in the ‘Bhagavat Gita,’ and of classical learning in other poetic works of the Hindus, we now know at least where they may have come from. In short, when we realise how strongly European influence prevailed in Gandhara in the first five or six centuries after Christ, and think how many thousands, it may be millions, crossed the Indus, going eastward during that period, and through that country, we ought not to be surprised at any amount of Western thought or art we may find in India. These, however, are problems that are only just dawning upon us, and which are certainly not yet ripe for solution, though it may be most important they should be stated as early as possible, as it seems evident that the materials certainly exist from which an early answer may be obtained.

In the meanwhile the question that bears most directly on the subject now in hand is the inquiry, how far the undoubted classical influence shown in these Gandhara sculptures is due to the seed sown by the Bactrian Greeks during the existence of their kingdom there, and how much to the direct influence of Rome and Byzantium between the times of Augustus and Justinian? Both, most probably, had a part in producing this remarkable result; but, so far as we at present know, it seems that the latter was very much more important than the former cause, and that in the first centuries of the Christian Era the civilisation of the West exercised an influence on the arts and religion of the inhabitants of this part of India far greater than has hitherto been suspected.