The Antiquities of Orissa v2.c17.s1.186

v2.c17.s1.186

Dr. Hunter is of opinion that ‘the death of the reformer marks the beginning of the spiritual decline of Viṣṇu-worship’. ‘The most deplorable corruption of Viṣṇu-worship at the present day is that which has covered the temple walls with indecent sculptures and filled its innermost sanctuaries with licentious rites’. He qualifies this, however, by adding that ‘it is difficult for a person not a Hindu to pronounce upon the real extent of this evil. None but a Hindu can enter any of the larger temples and none but a Hindu priest really knows the truth about their inner mysteries'³³. Elsewhere he says, ‘Śiva-worship, on the contrary, is a religion of stern realities. Whatever it does, it does with a rigid seriousness that is altogether a stranger to the luxurious sensuousness of the worship of Kṛṣṇa. Its shrines are seldom disgraced by the obscenities which stand out in imperishable stones from the walls of Viṣṇu temples. Indeed, throughout Orissa I have found the absence or presence of prurient sculptures almost as good a criterion of the sect to which a temple belongs, as the mystic wheel of Viṣṇu or the trident of Śiva which surmounts its tower’³⁴. Mr. Fergusson is equally positive on the subject; and his opinion is given without any qualification. He says, ‘The worship of Śiva is too severe, too stern, for the softer emotions of love, and all his temples are quite free from any allusion to it. The contrary is the case with the Vaiṣṇavas, who abhor the Liṅgam. Love pervades all their myths and all their temples are full of sexual feelings generally expressed in the grossest terms. The existence of any such representation in a temple at once fixes it as originally dedicated to the worship of Viṣṇu or some of his *avatārs*’³⁵. Leaving out of consideration the fact that the Liṅgam is the symbolism of the grossest phallic idea whereas Viṣṇu typifies a divine protector, and confining my attention here solely to temple ornaments and rituals, I must say that my experience in this matter has been entirely different. In the Central Provinces and in Orissa where the peculiar offensive representations abound—they are all but totally absent in the North-Western Provinces—I have found them common enough everywhere, more abundant on the Great Tower of Bhuvaneśvara dedicated to Śiva than on the sanctuary of Jagannātha disigned for Viṣṇu and quite as plentiful on the porch of the sun-god at Koṇārak. In the large and profusely sculptured temple of Ananta Vāsudeva (p, [83]) dedicated to Viṣṇu they are totally wanting. In fact, the extent of the objectionable sculptures has been regulated generally by the taste of the artist and the extent of sculptured ornaments devoted to a temple and not at all by the nature of the divinity for whom the structures have been designed; and nothing but serious mistakes can result from judging of the character of the divine images inside from the extent of the licentious sculptures on the outside. Besides, such as they are, these sculptures date from centuries before the birth of Caitanya and cannot, therefore, be attributed to his doctrines, or to his followers. As a Hindu by birth and a Vaiṣṇava by family religion I have had the freest access to the innermost sanctuaries and to the most secret of scriptures. I have studied the subject most extensively and have had opportunities of judging which no European can have and I have no hesitation in saying that, ‘the mystic songs’ of Jayadeva and the ‘Ocean of love’ notwithstanding, there is nothing in the rituals of Jagannātha which can be called licentious.