One of the monks looked as if he had been recently branded for sainthood with nine marks about the size of threepenny-bits, symmetrically dotted over his skull. Hackmann gives an interesting description of the way this is done in his book Der Buddhismus. The candidate for sainthood has small pieces of incense fastened on to his shaven head by means of resin. These are lighted and allowed to burn into the flesh, while a chant is kept up by the other monks, and the sufferer has some one to press his temples with his thumbs to relieve the pain.
BUDDHIST MONASTERY
At the end of the third courtyard we were taken into a lofty temple, where the Abbot’s throne faced the doorway. A gilt Buddha, with fruit and flowers placed on a table, formed a sort of altar in front of it. Round doorways, without doors, led to guest-rooms on either side of this hall, and we were hospitably entertained in one with tea and cakes. By permission of the Abbot, I returned next day to make a sketch of this picturesque interior, and in this sketch the doorway is shown, which is very characteristic of Szechwan architecture. Many of the inns in this province have circular doorways and windows. The Abbot came and talked with us very politely, and on inquiry I learnt that a most beautiful painting of lotus blossoms in black and white, which hung over the doorway, was by a celebrated artist, and had been presented to the monastery by a pious worshipper. The Abbot sat down and began discussing our respective religions, which he said were exactly the same. While agreeing as to their fundamental principle being the same, I felt unable to discuss their differences, being somewhat inattentive, I fear, owing to my endeavour to get on with the sketch as rapidly as possible. Next the Abbot was sure we must be hungry, though we had just been regaled with excellent sweets and tea, and, despite our refusing it, he insisted on sending us some of the meal to which he had been summoned. A monk soon appeared with bowls of vermicelli and greens. It was not unpalatable, and much easier to manage with chopsticks than might be supposed, as the bowl is held close to the mouth and the food shovelled in with chopsticks aided by suction. At intervals the novices came in to worship, and prostrated themselves before the altar. Most of the monks were dressed in pretty silver-grey robes, but some in the orthodox orange, and the Abbot wore a blue cloak. It was certainly an attractive community, a great contrast to those we saw in Peking.
Educationally Chengtu stands in the front rank of Chinese cities. Everywhere there are schools and colleges established on the new lines, and more are being built. The people are so enthusiastic that they have rather overshot the mark, it may be thought. In order to facilitate the girls’ going to school they are being dressed as boys, so that they may pass through the streets unnoticed to attend the various schools which have been started for them. One girl came to a friend of mine to seek admission to her school, and not only did the European take her for a boy (telling her the boys’ school was on the other side of the road), but so also did the Chinese gatekeeper, who insisted she had come to the wrong place. At the recent athletic sports the students put up a notice that no lady with bound feet would be admitted to the ground, and we hear that this notice is now being put up everywhere throughout the empire on such occasions. Anti-foot-binding is certainly making good progress among the upper classes, and we even saw a shoe-shop with large shoes for ladies prominently displayed on the counter. Nowhere else have we seen this.
There is a large military medical college at which there are three French doctors. Their presence is not altogether agreeable to the Chinese, and when one retired recently the officials took the opportunity of suggesting that he should not be replaced. They said that they could not afford his salary. How great must have been their disappointment when they were informed that their new professor had already arrived, and that the French authorities were quite willing to pay for him! Foreign competition in China has its funny side, but I marvel at the way the Chinese endure it.
The University is an interesting but eminently unpicturesque place, and the students are cramming Western subjects in a way to cause intellectual dyspepsia. As everywhere in China, English is the main subject, and they have a professor from Cambridge, with two English assistants and a Dane. French, German, and Japanese are also taught, and there is only one professor for Chinese classics. Sunday is a holiday, and many students spend the week-end at home. The walls of the class-rooms are nearly all window, but it is in no ways disturbing to Chinese students to have any number of spectators, or to be able to see into the adjoining class-rooms. Each study is occupied by three or four students, and the studies are simply partitioned corridors with a passage down the centre and a railing on either side of it, instead of walls. The dining-rooms are like outdoor restaurants with a roof over them, and the students sit four at a table. The fees for the year, including everything, are thirty dollars (about £3. 10s.). Many students are very anxious to study in England, but cannot possibly raise the necessary funds; and until proper arrangements are made to look after them when they do come, it is hardly a desirable plan. America is far ahead of us in this respect, and England would do well to follow her example. Everything is in our favour at present, and it might be of the utmost value as regards the development of China, and the commercial interests of England, to seize the opportunity of educating some of her ablest scholars. A Chinese gentleman told me that students returning from England are very apt to be full of bumptiousness because they have come out head of their class in English schools, while they have failed to assimilate what they have learnt. We spent an evening with some students, answering questions about the different countries we had visited. They wanted to know about the government, the religious and general conditions of other lands. Naturally the questions covered far too big an area to admit of satisfactory answers, but probably the men would have been willing to listen all night, if we had been willing to go on talking. They were most interested to hear the reasons why we admire China and the points of superiority which it possessed.
MILITARY YAMEN
On the last day of the year the Viceroy and the Tartar general sent presents to all the foreign community. Their visiting-cards were brought in, and a list of the presents which were waiting outside—hams, pigeons, ducks, fruits, and sweetmeats. We went outside to see them, and found the presents displayed on trays on the top of large boxes, or hung round them. It is customary to select about two things; visiting-cards are sent back with the remainder, and a small present of money is given to the servants who bring the gifts. They replace what has been selected from a supply inside the box, and then carry them on to the next house. We went to see the Tartar general’s yamen in the Manchu city, a very pretty spot embowered in trees, and quite typical of Chinese official buildings. The inscription over the entrance is “Yamen of the greatest General,” and on the doors and walls are highly coloured pictures of the tutelary gods, two celebrated generals of the T’Ang dynasty (A.D. 618 to 905); one is white-faced, and the other red-faced. These pictures are repeated all along the wall, and also on the doorways of the inner courtyard, which in the sketch appears in the background. They are singularly ugly, but as the pictures of the door-gods are seen on the houses of all, even the poorest, the sketch of them may not be devoid of interest. On private houses some of them are quite little papers like advertisements, while again some of the private houses have large gilt figures covering the whole doors. One day we went outside the city to visit a fine temple, and came to a place where there is a road on which you can drive in carriages. This is the only place in the province where there is a carriage, but we did not have the privilege of seeing it. The walls are broad enough and smooth enough on the top to make a splendid carriage drive—four or five vehicles might easily drive abreast—and as they are ten miles round, it would really be a fine promenade. In the spring the view must be very beautiful, for there is a range of snowy mountains in the distance, and many branches of the Min River water the intervening plain. During the whole week that we spent at Chengtu we never saw the mountains, on account of the mist; but it was not hard to imagine the beauty of the place when the flowers are out and the brilliant butterflies hovering round them.