of the living organism that is peculiarly Indian. Egypt too produced masterpieces of animal sculpture-the divine falcon protecting the Pharaoh's head, the sacred cats and holy monkeys impersonating learning and knowledge; but Egyptian art, as well as Mesopotamian, though perfectly realized when rendering in the round, in its reliefs insisted on the outline and on the masterfully drawn profile. Egyptian relief remained to the end under the influence of the tremendously important and highly refined Egyptian system of pictographic hieroglyphics, where animal figures were engraved or painted in profile on walls or on stone tablets. In these inscriptions the living organisms were reduced to mere apparitions circumscribed by cleanly cut contours, since a recognizable profile was all that was needed to communicate the meaning. The resultant systematization of monumental, meaningful glyphs bestowed on the familiar birds and animals of the region the permanency of a mysterious, enigmatic repose, transforming them into symbols.

In the animals of Mohenjo-daro, on the other hand, though the outlines are perfect and constitute one of the principal features of this sensitive style, the bodies are full of individual life. A subtle realism is at work that catches the beasts in attitudes nearer than the Egyptian to nature; nearer to the spontaneous behavior of the fleeting moment. Such forms are not frozen into stony hieroglyphs; they are full of inward life. The bulks are heaving, as if breathing, throbbing to the circulation of their own life-sap. They are not portions of a surface caught within a defining contour, but swell from the background with the warmth and unrest of living bodies, exhibiting nothing of the intentional, skillful abstractness of monumental design that underlies the sculptures of ancient Egypt and the Near East. Moreover, it is remarkable that although they are not executed in high relief, these tiny animal figures communicate a very strong suggestion of three-dimensional plastic reality, much closer to life than the willful generalizations of the contemporary artists further westward, whose renditions were based on analysis, skillful choice, and a systematization of outline.

Animal sculpture, in fact, is one of the finest chapters of Indian art. A feeling of profound fellowship and comradeship with the beasts, and with all living things, has inspired Indian thought throughout the ages, and it was certainly present in this early pre-Aryan period.

A fortunate discovery among the remains of Mohenjo-daro was the bronze figurine of a dancing girl. The bangles on her arms served by their tinkling to mark the rhythm of her steps. The figure immediately reminds one of the deva-dāsīs-"slave girls or female servants (dāsī) of the god (deva)"-who are the dancers institution-