Reading section 27

[Footnote 515: Beal, _Life_, p. 205.]

[Footnote 516: Identified by Stein with Kohmari Hill which is still revered by Mohammedans as a sacred spot.]

[Footnote 517: _Desert Cathay_, II. p. 114.]

[Footnote 518: See Watters, _Yüan Chwang_, II. p. 296. Beal, _Life_. p. 205. Chavannes, "Voyage de Sung Yun." _B.E.F.E.O._ 1903, 395, and for the Tibetan sources, Rockhill, _Life of the Buddha_, chap. VIII. One of the four Tibetan works is expressly stated to be translated from Khotanese.]

[Footnote 519: The Tibetan Chronicles of Li-Yul say that they worshipped Vaiśravana and Śrîmahâdevî.]

[Footnote 520: A monk from Kashmir called Vairocana was also active in Tibet about 750 A.D.]

[Footnote 521: It is also possible that Buddhism had a bad time in the fifth and sixth centuries at the hands of the Tanguts, Juan-Juan and White Huns.]

[Footnote 522: The Later Han Annals say that the Hindus are weaker than the Yüeh-chih and are not accustomed to fight because they are Buddhists. (See _T'oung Pao_, 1910, p. 192.) This seems to imply that the Yüeh-chih were not Buddhists. But even this was the real view of the compiler of the Annals we do not know from what work he took this statement nor to what date it refers.]

[Footnote 523: See Beal, _Life_, p. 39, Julien, p. 50. The books mentioned are apparently the Samyuktâbhidharmahṛidaya (Nanjio, 1287), Abhidharma Kosha (Nanjio, 1267), Abhidharma-Vibhâsha (Nanjio, 1264) and Yogâcâryabhûmi (Nanjio, 1170).]

[Footnote 524: The importance of the Tarim basin is due to the excellent preservation of its records and its close connection with China. The Oxus regions suffered more from Mohammedan iconoclasm, but they may have been at least equally important for the history of Buddhism.]

[Footnote 525: _E.g._ see the Maitreya inscription of Turfan.]

[Footnote 526: Or at least is not accessible to me here in Hongkong, 1914.]

[Footnote 527: I do not mean to say that all Dhâraṇîs are late.]

[Footnote 528: It is even probable that apocryphal Sûtras were composed in Central Asia. See Pelliot in _Mélanges d'Indianisme_, Sylvain Lévi, p. 329.]

[Footnote 529: The list of manifestations in Jambudvipa enumerates 56 kingdoms. All cannot be identified with certainty, but apparently less than half are within India proper.]

[Footnote 530: See _Bibl. Budd._ XII. pp. 44, 46, XIV. p. 45.]

[Footnote 531: The Turkish sutras repeatedly style the Buddha God (t'angri) or God of Gods. The expression devâtideva is applied to him in Sanskrit, but the Turkish phrases are more decided and frequent. The Sanskrit phrase may even be due to Iranian influence.]

[Footnote 532: An Chou, the Prince to whose memory the temple was dedicated, seems to be regarded as a manifestation of Maitreya.]

[Footnote 533: _J.A._ 1913, I. p. 154. The series of three articles by Chavannes and Pelliot entitled "Un traité Manichéen retrouvé en Chine" (_J.A._ 1911, 1913) is a most valuable contribution to our knowledge of Manichæism in Central Asia and China.]

[Footnote 534: _E.g._ see _J.A._ 1911, pp. 509 and 589. See also Le Coq, _Sitzb. preuss. Akad. der Wiss._ 48, 1909, 1202-1218.]

[Footnote 535: _J.A._ 1913, I. pp. 116 and 132.]

[Footnote 536: See especially Havret, "La stèle chrétienne de Si-ngan-fu" in _Variétés Sinologues_, pp. 7, 12 and 20.]

[Footnote 537: See Havret, _l.c_. III. p. 54, for some interesting remarks respecting the unwillingness of the Nestorians and also of the Jesuits to give publicity to the crucifixion.]

[Footnote 538: See Takakusu, _I-tsing_, pp. 169, 223, and _T'oung Pao_, 1896, p. 589.]

[Footnote 539: Turfan and Kucha are spoken of as being mainly Hînayânist.]

[Footnote 540: See Stein, _Zoroastrian deities on Indo-Scythian coins_, 1887.]

[Footnote 541: See _S.B.E._ IV. (Vendîdad) pp. 145, 209; XXIII. p. 184, V. p. III.]

[Footnote 542: Chap. VII. The notices in Chaps. XXII. and XXIV. are rather more detailed but also later.]

[Footnote 543: XII. p. 23.]

[Footnote 544: Transl. Schiefner, pp. 93, 105 and 303, and Pander's _Pantheon_, No. 11. But Târanâtha also says that he was Aryadeva's pupil.]

[Footnote 545: Śara in Sanskrit.]

[Footnote 546: The doctrine of salvation by faith alone seems to be later. The longer and apparently older version of the Sukhâvatî Vyûha insists on good works as a condition of entry into Paradise.]

[Footnote 547: _S.B.E._ IV. p. 293; _ib._ XXXIII. pp. 317 and 344.]

[Footnote 548: It may also be noticed that Ameretât, the Archangel of immortality, presides over vegetation and that Amida's paradise is full of flowers.]

[Footnote 549: _S.B.E._ XXIII. pp. 335-7.]

[Footnote 550: _S.B.E._ XXXI. p. 261.]

[Footnote 551: _S.B.E._ XXIII. pp. 21-31 (the Ormasd Yasht).]

[Footnote 552: Is it possible that there is any connection between Sukhâvatî and the land of Saukavastan, governed by an immortal ruler and located by the Bundehish between Turkistan and Chinistan? I imagine there is no etymological relationship, but if Saukavastan was well known as a land of the blessed it may have influenced the choice of a significant Sanskrit word with a similar sound.]

[Footnote 553: _E.R.E. sub voce_.]

[Footnote 554: _J.A._ 1912, I. p. 622. Unfortunately only a brief notice of his communication is given with no details. See also S. Lévi, _Le Népâl_, pp. 330 ff.]

[Footnote 555: Ti-tsang in Chinese, Jizo in Japanese. See for his history Visser's elaborate articles in _Ostasiatische Ztsft._ 1913-1915.]

[Footnote 556: He was accepted by the Manichæans as one of the Envoys of Light. _J.A._ 1911, II. p. 549.]

CHAPTER XLII

CHINA

_Prefatory note._

For the transcription of Chinese words I use the modern Peking pronunciation as represented in Giles's Dictionary. It may be justly objected that of all dialects Pekingese is perhaps the furthest removed from ancient Chinese and therefore unsuited for historical studies and also that Wade's system of transcription employed by Giles is open to serious criticism. But, on the other hand, I am not competent to write according to the pronunciation of Nanking or Canton all the names which appear in these chapters and, if I were, it would not be a convenience to my readers. Almost all English works of reference about China use the forms registered in Giles's Dictionary or near approximations to them, and any variation would produce difficulty and confusion. French and German methods of transcribing Chinese differ widely from Wade's and unfortunately there seems to be no prospect of sinologues agreeing on any international system.

INTRODUCTORY.

The study of Chinese Buddhism is interesting but difficult[557]. Here more than in other Asiatic countries we feel that the words and phrases natural to a European language fail to render justly the elementary forms of thought, the simplest relationships. But Europeans are prone to exaggerate the mysterious, topsy-turvy character of the Chinese mind. Such epithets are based on the assumption that human thought and conduct normally conform to reason and logic, and that when such conformity is wanting the result must be strange and hardly human, or at least such as no respectable European could expect or approve. But the assumption is wrong. In no country with which I am acquainted are logic and co-ordination of ideas more wanting than in the British Isles. This is not altogether a fault, for human systems are imperfect and the rigorous application of any one imperfect system must end in disaster. But the student of Asiatic psychology must begin his task by recognising that in the West and East alike, the thoughts of nations, though not always of individuals, are a confused mosaic where the pattern has been lost and a thousand fancies esteemed at one time or another as pleasing, useful or respectable are crowded into the available space. This is especially true in the matter of religion. An observer fresh to the subject might find it hard to formulate the relations to one another and to the Crown of the various forms of Christianity prevalent in our Empire or to understand how the English Church can be one body, when some sections of it are hardly distinguishable from Roman Catholicism and others from non-conformist sects. In the same way Chinese religion offers startling combinations of incongruous rites and doctrines: the attitude of the laity and of the government to the different churches is not to be defined in ordinary European terms and yet if one examines the practice of Europe, it will often throw light on the oddities of China.

The difficulty of finding a satisfactory equivalent in Chinese for the word God is well known and has caused much discussion among missionaries. Confucius inherited and handed on a worship of Heaven which inspired some noble sayings and may be admitted to be monotheism. But it was a singularly impersonal monotheism and had little to do with popular religion, being regarded as the prerogative and special cult of the Emperor. The people selected their deities from a numerous pantheon of spirits, falling into many classes among which two stand out clearly, namely, nature spirits and spirits of ancestors. All these deities, as we must call them for want of a better word, present odd features, which have had some influence on Chinese Buddhism. The boundary between the human and the spirit worlds is slight. Deification and euhemerism are equally natural to the Chinese. Not only are worthies of every sort made into gods[558], but foreign deities are explained on the same principle. Thus Yen-lo (Yama), the king of the dead, is said to have been a Chinese official of the sixth century A.D. But there is little mythology. The deities are like the figures on porcelain vases: all know their appearance and some their names, but hardly anyone can give a coherent account of them. A poly-dæmonism of this kind is even more fluid than Hinduism: you may invent any god you like and neglect gods that don't concern you. The habit of mind which produces sects in India, namely the desire to exalt one's own deity above others and make him the All-God, does not exist. No Chinese god inspires such feelings.

The deities of medieval and modern China, including the spirits recognized by Chinese Buddhism, are curiously mixed and vague personalities[559]. Nature worship is not absent, but it is nature as seen by the fancy of the alchemist and astrologer. The powers that control nature are also identified with ancient heroes, but they are mostly heroes of the type of St. George and the Dragon of whom history has little to say, and Chinese respect for the public service and official rank takes the queer form of regarding these spirits as celestial functionaries. Thus the gods have a Ministry of Thunder which supervises the weather and a Board of Medicine which looks after sickness and health.

The characteristic expression of Chinese popular religion is not exactly myth or legend but religious romance. A writer starts from some slender basis of fact and composes an edifying novel. Thus the well-known story called Hsi-Yu-Chi[560] purports to be an account of Hsüan Chuang's journey to India but, except that it represents the hero as going there and returning with copies of the scriptures, it is romance pure and simple, a fantastic Pilgrim's Progress, the scene of which is sometimes on earth and sometimes in the heavens. The traveller is accompanied by allegorical creatures such as a magic monkey, a pig, and a dragon horse, who have each their own significance and may be seen represented in Buddhist and Taoist temples even to-day. So too another writer, starting from the tradition that Avalokita (or Kuan-Yin) was once a benevolent human being, set himself to write the life of Kuan-Yin, represented as a princess endued with every virtue who cheerfully bears cruel persecution for her devotion to Buddhism. It would be a mistake to seek in this story any facts throwing light on the history of Avalokita and his worship. It is a religious novel, important only because it still finds numerous readers.

It is commonly said that the Chinese belong to three religions, Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism, and the saying is not altogether inaccurate. Popular language speaks of the three creeds and an ordinary person in the course of his life may take part in rites which imply a belief in them all[561]. Indeed the fusion is so complete that one may justly talk of Chinese religion, meaning the jumble of ceremonies and beliefs accepted by the average man. Yet at the same time it is possible to be an enthusiast for any one of the three without becoming unconventional.

Of the three religions, Confucianism has a disputable claim to the title. If the literary classes of China find it sufficient, they do so only by rejecting the emotional and speculative sides of religion. The Emperor Wan-li[562] made a just epigram when he said that Confucianism and Buddhism are like the wings of a bird. Each requires the co-operation of the other. Confucius was an ethical and political philosopher, not a prophet, hierophant or church founder. As a moralist he stands in the first rank, and I doubt if either the Gospels or the Pitakas contain maxims for the life of a good citizen equal to his sayings. But he ignored that unworldly morality which, among Buddhists and Christians, is so much admired and so little practised. In religion he claimed no originality, he brought no revelation, but he accepted the current ideas of his age and time, though perhaps he eliminated many popular superstitions. He commended the worship of Heaven, which, if vague, still connected the deity with the moral law, and he enjoined sacrifice to ancestors and spirits. But all this apparently without any theory. His definition of wisdom is well known: "to devote oneself to human duties and keep aloof from spirits while still respecting them." This is not the utterance of a sceptical statesman, equivalent to "remember the political importance of religion but keep clear of it, so far as you can." The best commentary is the statement in the _Analects_ that he seldom spoke about the will of Heaven, yet such of his utterances about it as have been preserved are full of awe and submission[563]. A certain delicacy made him unwilling to define or discuss the things for which he felt the highest reverence, and a similar detached but respectful attitude is still a living constituent of Chinese society. The scholar and gentleman will not engage in theological or metaphysical disputes, but he respectfully takes part in ceremonies performed in honour of such venerated names as Heaven, Earth and Confucius himself. Less willingly, but still without remonstrance, he attends Buddhist or Taoist celebrations.

If it is hard to define the religious element in Confucianism, it is still harder to define Taoism, but for another reason, namely, that the word has more than one meaning. In one sense it is the old popular religion of China, of which Confucius selected the scholarly and gentlemanly features. Taoism, on the contrary, rejected no godlings and no legends however grotesque: it gave its approval to the most extravagant and material superstitions, especially to the belief that physical immortality could be insured by drinking an elixir, which proved fatal to many illustrious dupes. As an organized body it owes its origin to Chang-Ling _(c._ 130 A.D.) and his grandson Chang-Lu[564]. The sect received its baptism of blood but made terms with the Chinese Government, one condition being that a member of the house of Chang should be recognized as its hereditary Patriarch or Pope[565]. Rivalry with Buddhism also contributed to give Taoism something of that consistency in doctrine and discipline which we associate with the word religion, for in their desire to show that they were as good as their opponents the Taoists copied them in numerous and important particulars, for instance triads of deities, sacred books and monastic institutions.

The power of inventive imitation is characteristic of Taoism[566]. In most countries great gods are children of the popular mind. After long gestation and infancy they emerge as deities bound to humanity by a thousand ties of blood and place. But the Taoists, whenever they thought a new deity needful or ornamental, simply invented him, often with the sanction of an Imperial Edict. Thus Yü-Ti[567], the precious or jade Emperor, who is esteemed the supreme ruler of the world, was created or at least brought into notice about 1012 A.D. by the Emperor Chên Tsung[568] who pretended to have correspondence with him. He is probably an adaptation of Indra and is also identified with a prince of ancient China, but cannot be called a popular hero like Rama or Krishna, and has not the same hold on the affections of the people.

But Taoism is also the name commonly given not only to this fanciful church but also to the philosophic ideas expounded in the Tao-tê-ching and in the works of Chuang-tzŭ. The Taoist priesthood claim this philosophy, but the two have no necessary connection. Taoism as philosophy represents a current of thought opposed to Confucianism, compared with which it is ascetic, mystic and pantheistic, though except in comparison it does not deserve such epithets. My use of pantheistic in particular may raise objection, but it seems to me that Tao, however hard to define, is analogous to Brahman, the impersonal Spirit of Hindu philosophy. The universe is the expression of Tao and in conforming to Tao man finds happiness. For Confucianism, as for Europe, man is the pivot and centre of things, but less so for Taoism and Buddhism. Philosophic Taoism, being somewhat abstruse and unpractical, might seem to have little chance of becoming a popular superstition. But from early times it was opposed to Confucianism, and as Confucianism became more and more the hall-mark of the official and learned classes, Taoism tended to become popular, at the expense of degrading itself. From early times too it dallied with such fascinating notions as the acquisition of miraculous powers and longevity. But, as an appeal to the emotional and spiritual sides of humanity, it was, if superior to Confucianism, inferior to Buddhism.

Buddhism, unlike Confucianism and Taoism, entered China as a foreign religion, but, in using this phrase, we must ask how far any system of belief prevalent there is accepted as what we call a religion. Even in Ceylon and Burma people follow the observances of two religions or at least of a religion and a superstition, but they would undoubtedly call themselves Buddhists. In China the laity use no such designations and have no sense of exclusive membership. For them a religion is comparable to a club, which they use for special purposes. You may frequent both Buddhist and Taoist temples just as you may belong to both the Geographical and Zoological Societies. Perhaps the position of spiritualism in England offers the nearest analogy to a Chinese religion. There are, I believe, some few persons for whom spiritualism is a definite, sufficient and exclusive creed. These may be compared to the Buddhist clergy with a small minority of the laity. But the majority of those who are interested or even believe in spiritualism, do not identify themselves with it in this way. They attend séances as their curiosity or affections may prompt, but these beliefs and practices do not prevent them from also belonging to a Christian denomination. Imagine spiritualism to be better organized as an institution and you will have a fairly accurate picture of the average Chinaman's attitude to Buddhism and Taoism. One may also compare the way in which English poets use classical mythology. _Lycidas_, for instance, is an astounding compound of classical and biblical ideas, and Milton does not hesitate to call the Supreme Being Jove in a serious passage. Yet Milton's Christianity has never, so far as I know, been called in question.

There is an obvious historical parallel between the religions of the Chinese and early Roman Empires. In both, the imperial and official worship was political and indifferent to dogma without being hostile, provided no sectary refused to call the Emperor Son of Heaven or sacrifice to his image. In both, ample provision was made outside the state cult for allaying the fears of superstition, as well as for satisfying the soul's thirst for knowledge and emotion. A Roman magistrate of the second century A.D. may have offered official sacrifices, propitiated local genii, and attended the mysteries of Mithra, in the same impartial way as Chinese magistrates took part a few years ago in the ceremonies of Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism. In both cases there was entire liberty to combine with the official religious routine private beliefs and observances incongruous with it and often with one another: in both there was the same essential feature that no deity demanded exclusive allegiance. The popular polytheism of China is indeed closely analogous to the paganism of the ancient world[569]. Hinduism contains too much personal religion and real spiritual feeling to make the resemblance perfect, but in dealing with Apollo, Mars and Venus a Roman of the early Empire seems to have shown the mixture of respect and scepticism which is characteristic of China.

This attitude implies not only a certain want of conviction but also a utilitarian view of religion. The Chinese visit a temple much as they visit a shop or doctor, for definite material purposes, and if it be asked whether they are a religious people in the better sense of the word, I am afraid the answer must be in the negative. It is with regret that I express this opinion and I by no means imply that there are not many deeply religious persons in China, but whereas in India the obvious manifestations of superstition are a superficial disease and the heart of the people is keenly sensitive to questions of personal salvation and speculative theology, this cannot be said of the masses in China, where religion, as seen, consists of superstitious rites and the substratum of thought and feeling is small.

This struck me forcibly when visiting Siam some years ago. In Bangkok there is a large Chinese population and several Buddhist temples have been made over to them. The temples frequented by Siamese are not unlike catholic churches in Europe: the decoration is roughly similar, the standard of decorum much the same. The visitors come to worship, meditate or hear sermons. But in the temples used by the Chinese, a lower standard is painfully obvious and the atmosphere is different. Visitors are there in plenty, but their object is to "get luck," and the business of religion has become transformed into divination and spiritual gambling. The worshipper, on entering, goes to a counter where he buys tapers and incense-sticks, together with some implements of superstition such as rods or inscribed cards. After burning incense he draws a card or throws the rods up into the air and takes an augury from the result. Though the contrast presented in Siam makes the degradation more glaring, yet these temples in Bangkok are not worse than many which I have seen in China. I gladly set on the other side of the account some beautiful and reverent halls of worship in the larger monasteries, but I fear that the ordinary Chinese temple, whether Taoist or Buddhist, is a ghostly shop where, in return for ceremonies which involve neither moral nor intellectual effort, the customer is promised good luck, offspring, and other material blessings.