[CHAPTER XLI.]
Shigatze.
OUTLINE OF THE MONASTERY OF TASHI LHUNPO.
The next day, December 5th, I proceeded for about eight miles across a plain in a south-easterly direction, when the gold-colored roof of a palatial building, with many white-painted dormitories for priests close by, presented itself before my view. In addition, temple-like buildings in red paint were seen rising amidst these structures, making in all a grand and beautiful spectacle. The town before me was Shigatze, the second capital of Tibet, and the palatial building was the Tashi Lhunpo Temple. The name means ‘a glorious mass’ or ‘Mount Sumeru,’ a legendary mountain mentioned in Buḍḍhist Scriptures. The monastery owes its name to its founder, Gendun Tub, who thought that the mountain at the rear of the temple resembled Sumeru. There were altogether three thousand three hundred priests in the temple, but sometimes the number increases to over five thousand; and though it is but the second temple in the country it maintains the same dignity as the papal see. The secular part of the city lay beyond the temple and consisted of some three thousand five hundred dwellings. The number of the inhabitants was stated by the natives to be over thirty thousand, but this calculation cannot be much trusted, as the science of statistics is utterly unknown in Tibet. I visited the temple, where I asked for the dormitory called Peetuk Khamtsan, which is allotted to the Lamaist monks from the north-eastern plateau, since I had feigned myself to be one of these. At length I found it and settled myself in it, for I intended to stay there for some time and to pick up any knowledge I could from those with whom I might come into contact.
The Lama Superior of this temple is regarded as the second Grand Lama of Tibet, for, though he does not possess any political influence, yet with regard to the rank bestowed by the Chinese Emperor he is superior even to the Dalai Lama himself. Sometimes a kind of regency under this ‘second Grand Lama’ takes place during the interval between the Dalai Lama’s death and the enthronement of what in Tibet is believed to be his re-incarnated self.
This second Grand Lama is commonly called Panchen Rinpoche, but his real title is Kyab-kon Chen-bo, meaning ‘Great Protector,’ while his name is Lobsang Choe-ki Nima, the ‘noble-minded religious sun’. I was told he was eighteen years old, having been born in the year of “sheep,” and was believed to be an incarnation of Amida-nyorai. At the time of my visit he was away at a distant palace, so that I could not see him. During my stay in the town my only business was to visit various Lamas and scholars, with whom I discussed the teachings of Buḍḍha.
One day I called upon the tutor of the second Grand Lama, Tsan Chenba, a venerable priest, seventy-four years of age, who was very kind to me. As he was reputed to be the highest authority on Tibetan grammar and rhetoric among the three thousand priests in the temple, I asked him several grammatical questions, and in doing so I took care to select such questions as were familiar to me, for I wanted to know in what way my host would try to explain them. I was, however, disappointed, as he confessed that he could give no answer and said that he could only refer me to a learned physician living at Engon on the road to Lhasa, who, he was inclined to believe, could give me a satisfactory answer. I was, therefore, glad to take leave of him. En passant it may be stated that five branches of science—phonetics, medicine, logic, engineering and religious science and philosophy—were centuries ago introduced into Tibet from India, but now-a-days very few—I will almost say no—Tibetans are proficient in them, or even in one of them. Under present circumstances, those who take to the study of grammar belong to very limited classes, the majority of them consisting of the men in the Government service who learn just the elementary rules of grammar, in order to be able to prepare official documents. It is not wonderful therefore that there should be scholars who, in spite of their zeal in the investigation and exposition of Buḍḍha’s doctrines, are absolute strangers to history and other branches of science.
After a stay of several days at the temple, I was one day thinking of leaving the town, when I was informed that the Grand Lama was expected home presently, so I went out to witness his procession. It must be noted that owing to the absence of roads in Tibet the procession passed through the more beaten parts of the country, which served as roads. On both sides of the route there stood cylindrical posts upon which incense was burnt by the waiting crowds, both sacerdotal and secular, most of whom prostrated themselves on the advent of the cortège. The second Grand Lama was borne in a palanquin decorated with gold brocades and gorgeous kinds of silk, and was accompanied by about three hundred mounted attendants who, instead of being armed, carried Buḍḍhist utensils. The procession was heralded by the native band, using some kind of wind instruments and drums. The spectacle was so splendid that I congratulated myself on my good fortune in having witnessed it.