Persian Bas-relief at Pasargada
From all that we know of the Medes, and the splendour of the Median court and their principal city Ecbatana (a city which appears originally to have been constructed on terraces elevated successively one above the other), we may conclude that the science of architecture had attained among them a certain degree of perfection—a conjecture which appears carried to certainty by the accounts of recent travellers. The traces of the ancient royal seat Ecbatana, of which we shall have occasion to speak hereafter, presented, according to Morier and Porter, the same characteristic style of architecture with which those travellers had become familiar at Chehl-Menar, the fashion of the columns and even the characters of the inscriptions being the same. We cannot avoid inferring that it was from the Medes that the Persians derived, with the rest of their civilisation, the art of architecture also. It must be added, that the sculptures in these ruins are so obviously derived from the Magian religion, which prevailed among the Medes, that we can hardly doubt that the buildings in question were erected under the influence and according to the ideas of that caste, since the figures in question must not be mistaken for mere idle decorations, but had an intimate relation to the purposes for which the buildings themselves were severally designed. But the Magian religion and the Magian priesthood were not confined to Media, but extended over the countries to the East, especially those upon the Oxus, as far as the mountains bordering on India, the parent country of those fabulous monsters of which, as we have observed, traces are to be seen. Here lay Bactriana, at all times one of the richest countries of the world, in consequence of its position between the Indus and Oxus, and its connection with India, as well as the fertility of its soil, forming an important part of the empire of the Medes, whose monarchs appear to have resided at Bactra long before they occupied Ecbatana. This also was the country where the religion of Zoroaster first took root and flourished, and thus it became the parent land of the civil institutions of the Medes. When, therefore, the Persians are said to have derived their architecture originally from thence, it must be understood that they did so as the disciples of the Medes.
It is true that the ancients ascribe in part the erection of Pasargada and Persepolis to the two earliest monarchs of the old Persian race—Cyrus and Cambyses; but this is easily reconcilable with the supposition that Darius and Xerxes were their principal founders. Niebuhr has already remarked, that the buildings of Persepolis do not appear all to belong to the same period, nor to have been constructed on one uniform plan, and this is especially true of those situated on the third terrace. It is certain that most of the considerable remains of remote antiquity (as was particularly the case with Egyptian edifices) were much more slowly erected than we might be inclined to suppose; and it is extremely probable that successive kings of Persia may have taken part in the erection of Persepolis, especially as the undertaking assumed the character of a religious duty; not to mention that continual additions must, from time to time, have been found necessary.
Persian Monument at Pasargada
We may now pronounce with certainty (what before must have been mere conjecture) that the arts of architecture and sculpture must, long before the dynasty of the Persians, have attained a much higher degree of perfection than men have been generally disposed to admit. If this be doubted, we must be prepared to show that such efforts of art as the edifices of Chehl-Menar could have started at once into existence, as if by enchantment. In these structures we see proofs that architecture must have attained, when they were erected, a wonderful degree of excellence in its mechanical department. No spot on the globe (Egypt perhaps excepted) displays such masonry as the walls of Persepolis. It was unquestionably a prodigious advantage to the architect that the neighbouring mountains afforded him materials on the very spot; but no other nation has left examples of an equally skilful combination of such enormous blocks of marble. The character and style of the building is, however, perhaps still more remarkable, being directly opposed to that of the Egyptians, with which it has been injudiciously compared; if we are not mistaken, the original modes of life of the two races may be traced even in the several styles of their architecture. The observer of Egyptian antiquities can hardly fail to remark the grotto-style of building there prevalent, bespeaking a nation long accustomed to a sort of Troglodyte life, in caverns and hollows of the rock. The gigantic temples of Thebes and Philæ are obviously imitations of excavated rocks; the short and massive pillars representing the props, left to uphold the roof of such excavations, and the whole structure conveying the impression of enormous incumbent weight, and proportionate resistance: on the other hand, the remains of Persepolis indicate a nation not in the habit of occupying the bosoms of their hills, but accustomed to wander free and unconstrained over their heights and among their forests, and who, when they forsook this nomad life, sought to retain in their new habitations as much as possible of their original liberty. Those terrace foundations, which appear like a continuation of the mountain, those groves of columns, those basins, once, no doubt, sparkling with refreshing fountains, those flights of steps, which the loaded camel of the Arab ascends with the same ease as his conductor, forming a sort of highway for the nations whose images are sculptured there—all these particulars are as much in unison with the character of that joyous land which the industry of the Persians converted into an earthly paradise as the gigantic temples of Egypt are appropriate memorials of their old grottos in the rocks. The columns of Persepolis shoot upwards with a slender yet firm elevation, conveying a fit image of the stems of the lotus and palm, from which they were probably copied. As in Egypt everything is closely covered, and, as it were, oppressed by a roof, so here is everything free and unconfined, in admirable harmony with the religion of the nation, whose sole objects of worship were the sun, the elements, and the open vault of heaven.
Bas-relief in Door Frame of Palace, Persepolis
The art of design also preserves in the ruins of Persepolis a character peculiar to itself, a character of sobriety and dignity. Sculpture here appears formed on the habits of a court, and of an oriental court. No female or naked figure is to be traced, the seclusion of the harem being religiously respected. Of the male figures, none are portrayed in any violent or constrained attitude, not even when the monarch is represented destroying a monster; and it is only in the conflicts of animals with one another that the artist has displayed his power of expressing strong excitement. Where everything had reference to a court, no attitude was admissible which was not sanctioned by court etiquette. At the same time, this air of composure and dignity does not degenerate into stiffness; the design of the artist appears to have been, not to excite an impression of the beautiful, but a feeling of veneration—an end which has been fully attained. It is to be observed that no statue, nor any vestige of one, appears to have been discovered, and Persian sculpture seems to have been confined to the carving of reliefs, more or less prominent; and in the case of the monstrous figures which guard the entrance, amounting to half-relievos. How different are these historical relievos of Persia from those of the Egyptians, the favourite themes of which are battles and triumphal processions! There the object of the artist has been to exhibit the characters of action and energy; here, those of repose. In its subjects, also, the Persian sculpture is distinguished from that of the Egyptians, as well as that of the Indians. While it occasionally delineated superhuman beings, such as feroohers and izeds, it abstained from the deities themselves. On the other hand, it is in close and perfect harmony with the architecture it accompanies. As the latter was lofty and grand, but not colossal, so was the former, and both characterised by a high degree of simplicity. It was the most obvious and natural idea with which the ancient artist could set about his work, to make the one the handmaid of the other, and the sculptor may be said to have given animation to the labours of the architect, by representing under emblematical figures the design of his works. Accordingly, as the different parts of the edifice combined to form a whole, so the various groups of sculpture composed one general design, and all, down to the most minute decorations, were in strict unison with one leading idea, associated with the religious opinions of the nation. With the exception of the fabulous animals, everything was copied from nature; and from the parts of these monsters were borrowed nearly all the ornaments, consisting for the most part of the heads of unicorns and claws of griffins; and chimerical as these fabulous creations may at first sight appear, they are all capable of being reduced to four or five elementary forms of real animals—the horse, the lion, the onager or wild ass, the eagle, and the scorpion, to which we may perhaps add the rhinoceros.