patchwork which is not shown in the northern one. In plastic design the latter shows the Indian craftsman at his best. The play of light and shade on the different planes of relief is contrived with so masterly a touch that the extreme richness of the ornamentation, worked out with an unerring decorative instinct, does not approach the insipid, as is the case with Indian art in its decadence. Nor does the presence of Assyrian and other West Asian motives suggest the handiwork of imported craftsmen; they are reminiscences of Indo-Aryan history, a part of the material which the royal craftsmen of Vidisha inherited from previous generations, and had long since made their own. The art of Sānchī on the whole is wonderfully strong, fresh, and original. It shows no more trace of foreign tutelage than any of the Western schools—for artists of all countries borrow from each other and inherit ideas from the past.
The sculptures of the gateways fall into two main categories—those which are structural or heraldic, and a series of pictures in stone illustrating the story of the Blessed One for the edification of pilgrims. The former are cut with the greatest freedom and sureness of touch, a proof that the sculptor's art had a long tradition behind it when the gateways were put up. The latter, especially the earlier ones, are influenced by the technique of the painter, and were probably finished in fresco colours laid upon a ground of fine chunam. Like the structural details, they evidence great skill in plastic technique; but the mannerisms of primitive art are not entirely shaken off.
Crowning the centre of the gateway on the middle of the curved transom, which is framed into the two principal uprights as in timber-work, stands the broken
