A History of Fine Art in India and Ceylon, from the Earliest Times to the Present Day c9.s2.64

c9.s2.64

In addition to his desire to tell edifying stories in a manner readily intelligible to the eyes of the faithful, the old artist clearly was dominated by the feeling that he was bound to impress on all beholders the lesson that the dead Teacher, the last and greatest of the long line of Buddhas, had won and continually received the willing homage of the whole creation—of men, women, and children, of the host of heaven, the water-sprites, and the demons—nay, even of the monsters of romance and the dumb animals. And so, in all the ancient Buddhist art, whether at Sānchī or elsewhere, weird winged figures hovering in the air, snake-headed or fish-tailed monsters emerging from their caverns or haunting the deep, offer their silent homage to the Lord of all, and the monkeys bow down in adoration before the Master who had turned the wheel of the Law and set it rolling through the world. The early artists did not dare to portray his bodily form, which had for ever vanished, being content to attest his spiritual presence by silent symbols—the footprints, the empty chair, and so forth.¹ But, whether the Master was imaged or symbolized, the notion of his adoration by all creation was continually present in the minds of the artists and influenced their selection of decorative motives. Although concerned in the main with thoughts of religion and worship they were not unmindful of beauty, which they often succeeded in attaining in no small degree.