It is of course a work of great merit to erect prayer-flags. They form a conspicuous feature in every landscape throughout Tibet, fluttering on hills and in valleys, by the roadside, and on the river bank, on walls and on the tops of houses, in streets, squares, and gardens.
Then, again, the duty of a constant repetition of prayer-formulæ and mystical sentences has led Northern Buddhists to employ Rosaries, which were used both by Hindūs and Buddhists long before they came into vogue in Europe. Without these necessary aids to devotion the long rounds of repetition could not be accurately completed. In Northern Buddhist countries rosaries ought to consist of 108 beads, which in Tibet are said to represent the 108[185] volumes of the Kanjur. The same number of beads is used by the worshippers of Vishṇu, who use the rosary to aid them in repeating any one of the names of Vishṇu 800 times, the eight additional beads marking each century of repetitions.
The commonest Buddhist rosaries are made of wood, or pebbles, or berries, or bone[186]; the more costly, of turquoise, coral, amber, or silver, or even of pearls and gems. If a rosary made of the bones of some holy Lāma can be procured, it is of course prized above all others. Sometimes a Dorje is appended. Northern Buddhist worshippers hold their rosaries (like Roman Catholics) in the right hand, and move on the beads with the left, and they will do this while talking together or even quarrelling. In China and Japan Buddhist rosaries are often arranged in two rings. They sometimes consist of enormous beads with relics in the central bead.
Be it observed, however, that the prayer-formularies of Buddhists are not always a mere unintelligible string of words and syllables, muttered, iterated, and reiterated with the aid of rosaries. Their prayers sometimes contain lofty sentiments. For instance, the two vagabond mendicant monks seen by me at Dārjīling (described at [p. 267]) went about chanting the following:—
Reverence to all the noble Father-Lāmas! I address this to the feet of Duang our patron saint. I, Milaraspa[187], sing it. If the soul be white (enlightened), it must be white inside and outside. I am born in consequence of the works of this world. My earthly father is a sower of the seed of sin. My mother is the soil which receives the seed of sin. The child is myself tied to the father by the cord of sin. When you think of your earthly father, think also of your Lāma (spiritual father). Your earthly father is the source of your sin. Your Lāma frees you from sin[188].
But this song, which was repeated over and over again, invariably concluded by a repetition of the inevitable six-syllabled formula. This they repeated very rapidly, pronouncing it as usual, ‘Om maṇi-pamme Hūm,’ and adding the mystical syllable Hṛīs. Their chanting was accompanied by an incessant agitation of their ḍamaru or sacred drum, which I was able to purchase. It is shaped like two hemispheres, joined on their convex sides, and is encircled by sacred shells. It is sounded by means of buttons attached to two pendulous strips of leather. The sound made by these drums is out of all proportion to their size. It may be heard at a great distance, and is thought to be highly efficacious in frightening away evil spirits, who dislike loud noises of all kinds. Here is an exact representation of the sacred drum now in my possession:—
Again, Dr. Eitel (Lectures, iii.) mentions a manual of daily prayer used by Northern Buddhists, which shows that striking words are sometimes chanted, though they may be in Sanskṛit, and therefore unintelligible to those who repeat them. For instance, the following:—
‘May all the Buddhas abide in me, instruct and enlighten me with knowledge and perfection, free me, deliver me, cleanse me, purify me; and may the whole universe be set free (Sarva-tathāgatā māṃ samāvasantu buddhyā siddhyā bodhaya vibodhaya moćaya vimoćaya ṡodhaya viṡodhaya samantaṃ moćaya)!’
Before, therefore, concluding this Lecture we must acknowledge, in fairness to the inhabitants of Tibet, that much of the spirit of religion may be mingled with their superstitions. The words of their prayers are not merely repeated by machinery, written on paper, and inscribed on rocks and stones. The voices of men and women, if not their thoughts, often go heartily with uttered prayers. The note of prayer is raised at all times and seasons—in the morning, mid-day, and evening, in private and in public, at home or abroad, in the midst of labour and idleness, in lying down and rising up, in moving about and keeping still, on the march and on the battle-field, on mournful occasions, and in the midst of joy and laughter. Nor is any one ashamed of praying aloud or praying together in the open streets and squares of crowded towns.