Conclusion.
Although the above sketch cannot pretend to be anything like a complete and exhaustive treatise on the subject, it may probably be accepted, as far as it goes, as a fairly correct and intelligible description of Buddhist architecture in India. We certainly know the beginning of the style, and as certainly its end. The succession of the buildings hardly admits of doubt, and their dates are generally ascertained within very narrow limits of error. A great deal more must, of course, be done before all the examples are known and all the lacunæ filled up; but this is being rapidly done, and in a few years from this time all that is necessary to complete the history may be available for the purpose. It is hardly probable, however, that anything will be now discovered in India which will materially alter the views put forward in the preceding pages. Another discovery like General Cunningham’s at Bharhut may reward the industry of explorers; but even that, though it has given breadth and precision to our inquiries, and added so much to our stores of knowledge, has altered little that was known before. What was written in my work on ‘Tree and Serpent Worship’ before the discovery was made, has, in almost every instance, been confirmed, and in no important particular modified or changed; and our knowledge is now so extended, it probably will be the same in other cases. It is difficult, however, to form an opinion on the chances of any such discoveries being now made. The one important building we miss of which accounts have reached us, is the rock-cut monastery described by the Chinese Pilgrims (ante, p. 135). If it was rock-cut, it almost certainly exists, and may yet be found in some of the unexplored parts of the Nizam’s territory. If it is discovered, it will throw more light on Buddhist architecture in the first century of our era than anything yet brought to light. That it did exist seems hardly doubtful, inasmuch as we have in the great rath at Mahavellipore ([Woodcut No. 66]) a literal copy of it—on a small scale, it is true—but so perfect that it certainly is not a first attempt to repeat, in a monolithic form, a class of building that must have been very common at the time this was attempted.
Be this as it may, even such a sketch as that contained in the preceding pages is sufficient to prove that it is almost impossible to overrate the importance of architecture and its associated arts in elucidating and giving precision to our knowledge of Buddhist history and mythology, from the time when it became the religion of the state till it perished in so far as India was concerned. In the rails at Buddh Gaya and Bharhut, with the eastern caves, we have a complete picture of Buddhism as it existed during the great Mauryan dynasty (B.C. 325 to B.C. 188). At Sanchi and the western caves we have as complete a representation of the form it took from the first century before our era to the third or fourth after it. At Amravati, and from the Gandhara monasteries, we learn what modifications had been introduced before and during the 4th century; and from the Ajunta and later caves we trace its history downward through its period of decay till it became first almost Jaina and then faded away altogether.
During the first half of this thousand years we have no contemporary records except those written in stone, and during the latter we have no books we can depend upon; but the architecture, with its sculptures and paintings, remain, and bear the indelible impress of the thoughts, the feelings, and the aspirations of those who executed them, and supply us with a vast amount of exact knowledge on the subject which is not attainable by any other means now known to us.
BOOK II.
JAINA ARCHITECTURE.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
There are few of the problems connected with this branch of our subject so obscure and so puzzling as those connected with the early history of the Architecture of the Jains. When we first practically meet with it in the early part of the 11th century at Abu, or at Girnar, it is a style complete and perfect in all its parts, evidently the result of long experience and continuous artistic development. From that point it progresses during one or two centuries towards greater richness, but in doing so loses the purity and perfection it had attained at the earlier period, and from that culminating point its downward progress can be traced through abundant examples to the present day. When, however, we try to trace its upward progress the case is widely different. General Cunningham has recently found some Jaina statues at Muttra, with dates upon them apparently of 99 and 177 A.D.[248] If this is so, it is the earliest material trace of Jainism that has yet been discovered, and they must have been associated with buildings which may yet reward the explorer. From this time forward, till the 11th century, we have only fragments of temples of uncertain origin and date, and all in so very ruined a condition that they hardly assist us in our researches. Yet we cannot doubt that the Jains did exist in India, and did build temples, during the whole of this interval, and the discovery of some of them may yet reward the industry of some future investigator.
Meanwhile one thing seems tolerably clear, that the religions of the Buddhists and that of the Jains were so similar to one another both in their origin, and their development and doctrines, that their architecture must also at one time have been nearly the same. In consequence of this, if we could trace back Jaina art from about the year 1000, when practically we first meet it, to the year 600 or 700, when we lose sight of Buddhist art, we should probably find the two very much alike. Or if, on the other hand, we could trace Buddhist art from A.D. 600 to A.D. 1000, we should as probably find it developing itself into something very like the temples on Mount Abu, and elsewhere, at that period of time.
A strong presumption that the architecture of the two sects was similar arises from the fact of their sculptures being so nearly identical that it is not always easy to distinguish what belongs to the one and what to the other; and in all instances it requires some experience to do this readily. The Tirthankars are generally represented seated in the same cross-legged attitude as Buddha, with the same curly hair, and the same stolid contemplative expression of countenance. Where, however, the emblems that accompany the Jaina saints can be recognised, this difficulty does not exist. Another, but less certain test arises from the fact that the Jaina saints are generally represented as naked—Digambaras or Sky-clad, which in ancient times seems to have been the most numerous sect, though another division or the Swetambaras, or White-robed, were clothed much like the Buddhist. When, therefore, a figure of the class is represented as naked it may certainly be assumed to belong to the sect of the Jains, but the converse is by no means so certain. If clad it may belong to either, and in consequence it is frequently difficult to distinguish between late Buddhist and early Jaina bas-reliefs and sculptures.
So far as we can at present see, the most hopeful source of information regarding Jaina architecture seems to be the ruined monasteries of the Gandhara country (Woodcuts Nos. [92], [93], [96]). The square or polygonal court of these viharas surrounded by cells containing images is what is found in all Jaina temples. The square or circular altar, or place of worship, may easily be considered as the prototype of the Sikra surrounded by cells of the Jains; and altogether these viharas, though probably as early as the fourth or fifth century of our era, are more like the temples at Abu and Girnar than anything intermediate. It is indeed every day becoming more and more apparent that, in consequence of our knowledge of Buddhist architecture being derived almost exclusively from rock-cut examples, we miss a great deal which, if derived from structural buildings, would probably solve this among other problems that are now perplexing us.