A PEKINGESE SHOP.
IN describing a Peking street, I purposely omitted the picturesque appearance of the shop fronts, of which No. 24 affords a very good type. There are many which are much more elaborate and imposing in appearance than this one, and many more which are 111 every respect inferior. The foundation and flooring of the shop are of granite, and the walls, to a height of about three feet, consist of the same material, while the upper portions of these latter are built of well-fired bricks. The shops of Peking differ in many respects from those in the cities of southern China. The former, as will be seen from the present example, are closed in front with ornamental partitions of hard wood, having narrow arched doorways. Above these doorways are blinds, or sunshades, which can be raised and spread out horizontally in front of the shops. The balustrade above presents always some Chinese design, very pretty, both in its open lattice-work and in the huge characters which denote the name and occupation of the tradesman. We gather, from the large gilt characters above, that cotton and Manchester goods are imported, and, from the sign-boards below, that silk, satin, and other fabrics may also be bought here; while the pedestal in front supports the announcement that the great foot measure is alone used in this establishment.
A LIVING TOMB.
WHEREVER the Buddhist faith prevails it is deemed a work of great merit to erect a new temple, or to restore an old one, and more especially so if the accomplishment of these objects involves acts of self-denial or penance. In Siam, where the Buddhism is of a type purer than in China, the rich make it their custom to rear new temples and monasteries, in order that the soul of the builder after death may transmigrate into some being of a still higher and holier mould. In China few new monasteries or temples are now-a-days erected, those already in existence being more than sufficient for the wants of the priestridden population. Here, therefore, the Buddhist devotee is forced to confine himself to renewing or restoring the old edifices,
I remember falling in with a Bonze, in a lane in Peking, who was wandering from door to door raising contributions to repair a shrine. This wretched being sought to awaken the slothful souls of the citizens to charitable acts by beating a gong. He was a ghastly object to behold, for he had passed an iron skewer through his cheeks and tongue, and strode the streets in mute agony, with blood-besprinkled robe and a face of death-like pallor. Le Comte narrates some stories of the deception practised in his time by these Bonzes. " Two Bonzes, seeing one day in a rich farmer's yard two or three large ducks, fell on their faces before the door, and sighed and wept grievously. The good woman, seeing them out of her chamber window, came down to see what was the occasion of their tears. We know, said they, that the souls of our fathers are transmigrated into these creatures, and we are in fear lest you should kill them. It is true, said the good woman, we did intend to sell them, but since they are your fathers, I promise you we will keep them." The good men so wrought upon the feelings of the woman that she finally presented them with the ducks, and that very evening they enjoyed a feast on their degraded fathers. In another passage he tells of a Bonze who stood erect in a sedan, " the inside of which was like a harrow, full of nails," and these nails set so close to his body that he could not stir without wounding his flesh. Two men carried this devotee from house to house, and everywhere he assured the citizens that he had been shut up in that chair for the good of their souls, and was resolved never to quit his confinement till they should have bought up all the nails, to the number of 2,000 or thereabouts. I told him that he was very unhappy to torment himself thus in this world for no good, and counselled him therefore to come out of his prison, to go to the temple of the true God to be instructed in heavenly truths. He answered calmly and courteously, " that he was much obliged for the good advice, and would be much more obliged if I would buy a dozen of his nails." This mode of doing penance is still in vogue in China.
The subject of the illustration (No. 24) is a small tower in front of a monastery in the outskirts of Peking. This tower has been built over a living Buddhist priest, whose only means of communication with the outer world is through the four small windows. When I saw him he had been shut up for many months, and intended so to remain for years if necessary, until he had collected funds enough from the charitably disposed to repair the ruined monastery in the rear. His sole occupation appeared to be tolling a bell at regular intervals, by means of the cord to be seen issuing from the aperture in front.
