FRONT OF KWAN-YIN TEMPLE, HONG-KONG.
THIS is a small temple on the hill-side, to the east of the city of Victoria. It is dedicated to Kwan-yin, the goddess of mercy, and is liberally supported by the Chinese of Hong-kong. Like the majority of Chinese temples, it has been erected in a position naturally picturesque, and is surrounded by fine old trees and shady walks, commanding an extensive view of the harbour. A never-ceasing crowd of beggars infest the broad granite steps by which the temple is approached, and prey upon the charitably-disposed Buddhists, who make visits to the shrine. These beggars trade upon the knowledge that in the Buddhist it is a meritorious act to help the poor and needy. The temple front is a good specimen of the elaborate ornamentation with which these places of worship are adorned. The direct entrance to the sacred interior is barred by a heavy screen of wood, which stands about six feet within the central door. This screen is a very common piece of furniture in Chinese dwellings, as well as in temples. It serves the double purpose of securing additional privacy to the inmates, while it wards off malignant spirits, which are popularly supposed to travel in direct lines, and not by circuitous routes. Within the threshold, on the right, is a dispensing department, where an apothecary makes up the numerous prescriptions of the goddess; on the left, an aged priest disposes of the paper counterfeits for money, which are bought by the worshippers, and burned as offerings at the shrine. Kwan-yin, a female figure draped in flowing robes and wearing a benign expression of countenance, is observed in the centre of the apartment, seated in a dim recess behind the altar, on which are an array of brazen bowls, vases, lighted candles, and smouldering incense sticks. On the floor, there are a number of straw mats, for the use of the kneeling worshippers, on one of which an aged woman is bent, supplicating the goddess in behalf of a sick son. She is muttering some incoherent prayer, and from time to time looks for a favourable omen, not from the clay lips of the painted goddess, — no, poor soul ! her tearful eyes are bent down with solicitude upon two plano-convex bits of bamboo, which, tossed in the air, have fallen on the floor, recording by the sides which lie uppermost a good or bad omen. She pleads with the touching fervour of a fond mother : persistently tossing the sticks of fate, she will take no denial. At length, after many turns of disappointment, she secures a good omen, and proceeds to spend her mite in offerings to Kwan-yin.
A MENDICANT PRIEST.
THIS priest is attached to the Kwan-yin Temple ; his duty is to beg for the benefit of the establishment, and to perform unimportant offices for the visitors to the shrine, lighting incense-sticks, and teaching short forms of prayer. I paid him half-a-dollar to stand for his portrait. He was very wroth, declaring the sum quite inadequate, as the picture had bereft him of a portion of his good luck, which he would require to work up again with offerings. He further informed me that a good run of praying visitors would have paid him much better for his time. He was undoubtedly of an avaricious disposition, and well up in his profession of begging. I would judge, however, from his starved miserable appearance that he was a faithful disciple of Buddha, and that a very small portion of his gains was devoted to his dress or sustenance. He is a type of thousands of the miserable, half-starved hangers-on of monastic establishments in China. Equally indispensable are tribes of loathsome beggars infesting the gates of the temples, and herds of hungry, howling dogs, that live, or die rather, on temple garbage and beggars' refuse.
