Ningpo to Shanghai in 1857/East Teen-muk-san to the Choey-yen-sze
To reach the western Teen-muh, the road has to be retraced almost as far down the hill as the 1st Ding, until a path, or rather steep flight of steps is met leading to the right, down which the traveller proceeds until he reaches first the Monastery called Chow-ming-haen of five priests, and then the village of Tcha-se-achin of 150 families. Here the formation, across a woodland valley, is of red hard sand stone.
Near Tcha-se-achin will be found a tomb evidently of great antiquity, embosomed in some splendid elm like trees and other shrubbery, enlivened with the antics of squirrels, and the music, a deep clear note, of a very handsome long-tailed bird, to be found only in this region. Five lē west of Tcha-se-achin we reach the base of a sharp ascent called Chou-foo-ling. After thirteen minutes walking a small mud hut is reached, and five minutes walking further up the steps, is a Ding, from which there is a gentle descent W. S. W. to two or three houses. The lower strata of this hill is similar to that of the base of the Eastern Teen-muh, viz black slaty shale, in rounded boulders 20 and 30 feet thick—the faces of the hills angling up as precipitously as 40°—the strata at an angle of about 5°.
From the western base of Chou-foo-ling the ascent for some distance, W.N.W. is not too steep for a chair, until the head of a valley is reached in which five villages lie within short distances of each other, the hills around being perfect forest wood land. Ke-chak is a small hamlet of ten families, a lē or so only from Yee-chow-lee a village of 150 families;—Yat-tow-lee again, a fine village of 300 families, being only a quarter of a lē or so from Kan-se-chee of 100 families.
The pretty manner in which children dress their hair with natural flowers among these villages is very pleasing, and the inhabitants, generally, unused to sight or speech of foreigners, whilst curious are not obtrusive, and are exceedingly kind in their deportment. It is not an unusual thing for the foreign traveller in this quarter to be politely asked to get out of his chair to be looked at;—every article of dress and foreign manufacture being scrutinized with prying eyes. To pilfer or cheat appears foreign to their composition;—and loudly indeed may the foreign missionary declaim against opium smoking, for, on a cursory glance at the habits of the people, it appears to be the only vice to which they are addicted. Of lewdness, drunkeness, quarrelsomeness, or any thing but what is pleasing in the eyes of an impartial lover of his species, nothing is seen;—nought besides opium smoking, and a want of cleanliness, is found to reform but the inclination to idolatry;—and, whilst pitying, the truly charitable can but reflect on the purit yof the source from which such propensity proceeds,—the desire to pay homage to the Supreme Being after that fashion which progenitors have taught to be the best.
Cleanliness being next to Godliness, Christianity when introduced will be a great boon. Idolatry, then, and the absence of a taste for cleanliness in their domestic arrangements, appear to be the great—almos tthe only—sins with which Chinese away from towns,have to be taxed;—the indulgence in opium smoking being seldom entered on 'till disease, or—who shall deny it?—the desire to forget fulness a feeling of hate for the government under which they live—renders it necessary.
The road from Kan-se-chee is ten feet wide, and is well laid with pebbles and rough stones for three or four lē north to a Ding with a shrine to the three goddesses Kwan-yin 三官大帝 (17) This Ding is only a short distance from another sharp ascent; and chairs are kept for the use of lady devotees, of whom there are many young and old arriving from all parts of this and adjacent provinces. Here, again, in the valley the strata is of the red brown granite like sand stone spoken of;—whilst a little way up the hill it is black shale and lime stone. At the top of the ascent called Le-do-ling, there is a one priested Temple, at which pedlar brokers meet to purchase from villagers leaves resembling the mulberry leaf in shape, called 青霜葉 Tching-sha-yet (18). These leaves, suffused in boiling water, yield a pleasant cooling drink. In quantities, the dealers obtain them at three cash a tael, or about half a mace a catty.
To preserve them from the effects of the sun, wood cutters in this region wrap the head with blue cotton cloth of native fabric. European manufactured cloths, blue, white or gray, are not much to be seen in this locality; and yet there must be much room for them, if there could but be an introduction. Not that for actual durability anything can excel the substantial cottons made by the thrifty house wives.—Sold, however, at a price commensurate with the labour given to them, they are, excepting in scant quantity, above the means of the little earning labourer.
Who shall describe the beautiful wood land dell through which the traveller passes from the Le-do-Ling down to the great Monastery (the Choey-yen-sze) at the foot of the Western Teen-muh san? Cypress and Fir, planted in regular lines over the green sward, or little hills of wheat, are the principal features.
The Choey-yen-sze is the most remarkable establishment of its kind for many a league around. It was originally founded, by the priests' account, in the Sung Dynasty (A.D. 420) (18) and will have continually increased until now it numbers on its foundation four hundred priests and a hundred laymen. Its situation, within an amphitheatre of wooded mountains, is most beautiful;—and should it at any time be necessary to fix the head quarters of an embassy, or to found a seminary in this locality, by no possibility could a better site be selected.
The principal entrance of the Sze faces the south, the depth from the portico to the northern wall being 575 feet, with a mean breadth in the centre of 425 feet, the corners rounding of with an easy sweep. Fronting the portico is a semi-circular paved area, 122 feet wide and 72 feet deep, bounded by a moat, or ha-ha, beyond which the ground is cultivated as a kitchen garden. Within the entrance from the front area is a spacious court yard, 70 feet wide by 100 feet in depth, with a flight of steps, leading into a temple of a secondary class; branching from which, on the west, are dormitories for the better class of guests; and on the east, the refectories of devotees and priests. Beyond this temple, still proceeding north, is another court yard leading to a capacious hall, beyond that again being another court with a large censer, and then the principal. Temple—a Shrine to the three goddesses Kwan-yin In the rear of this Temple a verandah runs across from one side to the other over a length of 220 feet. This verandah fronts several smaller two storied temples, and altar pieces;—in the rear being another range of five temples, with smaller ones behind these again, and then a small kitchen garden, bounded by the Monastery wall and hedge. This boundary in its whole extent embraces an area of five and a half acres of ground. On the west side, besides the dormatories spoken of is a fine kitchen garden—on the east are buildings of various classes. A gate on the north east corner leads into a road way by a perfect street of two storied houses, at the end of which is the grand kitchen, a building in which the boilers for rice measure six feet across, with scoops to remove the food not unlike the ladles used in iron foundries. Adjacent to the cuisine is a large two storied Hall, with an open area a hundred feet square, and a rostrum, intended, apparently, for the purpose of addressing a multitude. Such a building, now almost altogether unoccupied, would afford several companies of soldiers the most comfortable quarters. The south eastern quarter of the compound—the eastern side of the entrance courts mentioned being twice as wide as the western areas—is variously bestowed;—Granaries. Winnowing and Tea-drying Rooms, Carpenters' yards and sheds, and general depositories.
A gate on the south eastern corner leads to a water mill, in which the priests grind their flour, and to shops where Basket makers, Tailors, Shoe-makers, and other artizans are employed—large plots of cultivated ground, fish ponds &c. affording satisfactory evidence that in enjoyment of the comforts of life both priests and attendant laymen are well versed. Not that the priests indulge in any thing besides food of grain and vegetables;—but these, in their modes of cookery, are well varied. Maize flour porridge or rice, eaten with salt, and vegetable soup, form the staples, accompanied by greens, fresh or in partial decomposition, pickled ginger, salad, beans, and grated bean curd, not unlike parmesan cheese both in taste and appearance.
In Sugar there appears to be little or no indulgence;—nor, excepting for the toast of the maize porridge from the pan, do they seem to have much relish for anything like Bread. Of liquids, Tea, and the ptisan, Tching-sha-yet, mentioned at page 51, are the principal indulgences;—no spirits—no opium—no tobacco, nor anything of an oleaginous nature. As a rule they appear in excellent health and spirits, and if, as has been stated, they are burnt to death for infringment of the rules of the institution—the principal of which are abstinence from animal food and sensual indulgence—they do not appear to live in much dread of the sword that hangs over them. Nor have they need, as it is competent for any of these priests of Buddha to give up their vocation and return to the world as soon as they feel dissatisfaction with the restraints imposed.
We might have supposed that in a service requiring some asceticism, and the display of peculiar talent to fit the superiors for the positions to which they are elected by vote among themselves, attempts would be made to elevate the order of the duties;—we might have thought that learning or scientific ability would be a qualification for higher posts.—But it is not so; and, for all that is known to the contrary, the Abbot of the largest Monastery may be unable to write his own name, or do any thing which the humblest of the brethren might not be able to do. And yet they are not devoid of ambition ;—marks of superiority among the fraternity being shown in round spots on the caput over the frontal bone, nine or twelve, three in a row, about an inch apart, burnt in with an instrument kept for the purpose.
To keep the head shaved is also a rule of the order, and to wear robes of a peculiar kind, simple as can be, loose and flowing, kept over the breast by a large hook and ring. Excepting by his yellow silk shoes, and it may be by a little cleaner dress, the Abbot bears no insignia by which he may be known from those below him;—and the best reason in the world for keeping him to the proper performance of his duties is the knowledge of the fact, that those who have elected him can also depose him. Reports of such arbitrariness, however, are not common.
Pilgrims to these Monasteries from distant lands do very little themselves in the way of worship;—The details are left to the priests, who have a fixed price of 1600 Cash for any kind of religious service they may be called on to perform (20). These services appear to consist of a reptition of set forms of words, either in single voices or in chaunts by a company of priests, sometimes numbering as many as forty together—After a series of chaunts, at the striking of a bell there may be genuflexions for half anhour together, the most ardent of the worshippers, and some of them appear very sincere, striking the head on the ground two and three times before they rise, to wait, with hands uplifted in the attitude of prayer, another tap of the bell and another call to send them again prostrate. Some of the chaunts are particularly pleasing; but of the meanings of the sounds uttered even the most learned in the land are ignorant—Lo-way-la—Lo-way-la on one note or varied half a note each way, is music pleasing enough to those fond of monotony,—changing after a quarter of an hour's repetition, perhaps, to Too-way-woie—T o-way-woie—or a more lively symphony of Fau-sing-ko Ching-ko-way—Fau-sing-ko Ching-ko-waye or some such words.
The Temple of the three goddesses at the Choey-yen-size, and the services performed in it, will be found highly pleasing to the quiet observer,—especially should the hour of service be near sunset, or before the break of day, when the subdued light from a couple of dozen of candles, all at an equal altitude about eight feet from the ground, and ranged in lines around the smokened hall, or at the altar piece, gives a peculiar mellow expression to the countenances of the performers, with their bald pates, and yellow or more modest coloured vestments. Many of these priests are exceedingly sensible men, and on being asked why they pay adoration to images of wood and stone will reply that the spirit they address is one and the same with the Being worshipped by men of western lands;—but that western men, having more power of mind, are better able to realize the divinity than themselves and others of their country men, who require a visible representation of their god, else it is not in their power to confine their thoughts, and express their devotion with proper effect. As before stated, these priests, for the most part, are unlettered men, and, in nine cases out of ten, will inform the enquirer that their reason for becoming priests was a want of the means of existence. Occasionally, however, a child is born under the star of a particular spirit and, the parents are directed by astrologers to devote the youth to his service ;—an injunction to be evaded only by the enlistment of a substitute—male or female. In proportion to the male servers, the number of nuns throughout the empire, is very inconsiderable (21).
Attached to the Choey-yen-sze are some 240 acres (1400 mow) of land, and in the value of the timber of the domain, alone, the establishment is rich. When spoken to of the rebellion going on in adjacent provinces, and of the fears that must be entertained for the continuance of their order, but little from which an opinion can be formed is given by the priests in reply;—they are passive on the subject, and patiently await the coming of what, in their opinion, appears to be inevitable—a rev olution throughout the country. Conveniently blind though they be, they are not so bigotted as to be ignorant of the fact that the religion, or rather the mummery they practise is entirely unworthy the light of reason.