The walls and ceiling are painted in native style and colour, with scenes from the life of Buddha, and from the Hindoo myth of Ramayana. They are executed with that curious absence of perspective common to Oriental pictures, but nevertheless many of the figures are full of life and action. In particular, the elephants are usually accurately drawn, though strangely coloured.
We may fitly close this chapter with an account of one of the country temples given by H. Warington Smyth in his "Notes of a Journey on the Upper Mekong."
"At Wieng Chan, on the north bank (of the Mekong), the remains of the great Wat Prakaon are very fine; the latter rises from a series of terraces, up which broad flights of steps lead, and is of large proportions. The effect of height is increased by the perpendicular lines of the tall columns which support the great east and west porticos, and which line the walls along the north and south; the windows between the latter being small, and narrower at the top than at the bottom, also lead the eye up. A second row of columns once existed, and the effect must have been very fine. Now the roof is gone, and the whole structure crowned by a dense mass of foliage, as is the case with all the remains of smaller buildings not yet destroyed. One very beautiful little pagoda at the west end is now encased in a magnificent peepul tree which has grown in and around it, and has preserved it in its embrace. There are remains of several deep water-tanks; and the grounds, which were surrounded by a brick wall, must once have been beautiful. But the best thing at Wieng Chan, or the old city, as they call it, is the gem of a monastery known as Wat Susaket. It is a small building, the Wat itself, of the usual style, with a small lantern rising from the central roof. The walls are very massive, and, with the height inside, the place was delightfully cool; all round the interior, from floor to roof, the walls are honeycombed with small niches in rows, in which stand the little gilt images, looking out imperturbably, generally about eight inches in height.
"Round this building, outside, runs a rectangular cloister which faces inwards, and here, at one time, the monks were living amongst the statues which stand round the walls, many of these three and more feet high, while the walls too are ornamented with niches similar to those inside the main building. In the centre of each side there is a gateway surmounted by a gable, there being also similar ornaments at each corner. The beauty and retired air of the court inside could not be surpassed, and the effect of the green grass, the white walls, the low-reaching, red-tiled roofs, and the deep shadows is charming; there is nothing flat, nothing vulgarly gaudy, and very little that is out of repair. And here, as is most noticeable in the remains of the other buildings about, the proportions are perfect. In this the ruined remains of Wieng Chan surpass all other buildings I have seen in Siam, and bear witness to a true artistic sense in the builders."
[CHAPTER XV.]
AMONG THE TEMPLES (continued).
Several of the larger "wats" in the capital are deserving of further notice. The largest temple in the country is Wat Poh. It has often been said that "he who has seen Wat Poh has seen every Buddhist temple in Siam." It covers an immense extent of ground in the very heart of the great city, and inside its high brick walls are gathered together examples in wood and stone, in bronze and porcelain, of everything connected with ecclesiastical architecture in the country. Its chief attraction is an immense idol. In one of the lofty buildings lies a [sleeping Buddha] of gigantic proportions. It is probably the largest image of its kind in the world. The room containing it is over two hundred feet long. The idol itself is one hundred and seventy-five feet long, so that it practically occupies the whole of the building, with the exception of a narrow passage all round the base of the rectangular brick platform on which it reclines. The heavy shutters and ponderous doors are always locked, except when some inquisitive foreigner desires to view. His wish can be gratified by the payment to the man in charge of a fee varying from eighteen-pence to two shillings. After payment has been made, the gigantic doors are flung open and the visitor enters, only to find himself in almost total darkness. One by one a few of the heavy shutters are slowly opened and a little daylight gradually admitted. The light falls upon the dull red walls or elaborate frescoes, and upon the sides of the sleeping figure, but loses itself at last in the dim recesses of the lofty roof. When the eye has become accustomed to the gloom, the peculiar wonder of the spectacle begins to be appreciated. The whole of the building or the image cannot be seen from any one point of view. The gigantic idol is made of brick, which has been covered over with cement. Upon the cement a smooth layer of lacquer has been deposited, and then the whole coated with gold-leaf. The figure measures eighteen feet across the chest; the feet are fifteen feet in length; and the toes are each three feet long. The soles of the feet are inlaid with symbols in mother-of-pearl, according to the legend which states that Buddha had upon his feet at birth a number of signs that proclaimed his true character. The head is covered with a conical cluster of spiral curls, the apex of the cone being far away from human eye in the shadows of the rafted roof.