Tashi Lunpo was not visited by the French missionaries, but M. Huc informs us (ii. 157) that in 1846 the then Panchen Lāma was 60 years of age, and still vigorous. M. Huc was told that he was of Indian origin, and that he had declared of himself that his first incarnation had taken place in India some thousands of years before.
Mr. Sarat Chandra Dās, from whose notes of a journey in Tibet so many extracts have been already given, writes thus of his arrival at Tashi Lunpo on the 9th of December, 1881 (the extract is not given literally, and is abbreviated):—
In the afternoon we arrived at Tashi Lunpo. In front of the western entrance I noticed two Chortens (that is, ‘Ćaityas or Stūpas,’ see [p. 504] of these Lectures), one very large, with a gilt spire, and the other small. On entering the grand monastery, I mustered all my knowledge of Buddhist ceremonies and monkish etiquette, that I might not be criticised by the passing monks as one unacquainted with the duties of the wearers of the sacred costume. I walked slowly and with gravity, but secretly observing everything around me. There were a few yaks under the charge of three or four herdsmen, waiting probably for the return of some of their number from within the monastery. Some monks, riding on mules, passed us from north to south. A few parties with heavy grain packages on their backs were entering the monastery along with us. The rays of the sun, now slanting on the gilded spires of houses and tombs in the monastery, presented a very magnificent view to the eye.
While residing in the monastery I saw people busily engaged in out-door work, such as collecting fuel and tending cattle. In fact, this was the busiest part of the year, when the Tibetans remain on the move for the purpose of buying and selling, at a time when the intensely cold winds wither up the vegetation, freeze the streams, harden the soil, and dry up the skin. The monks, like the lay-people, are remarkable for their habit of early rising. No monk within the walls of the monastery rose later than five in the morning, and the usual time for getting up was four a. m. Those who slept later, without any special cause, were subject to correction. At three in the morning the great trumpet summons all the monks to the religious service in the congregation hall. Whoever fails to attend is punished next morning. No register is kept, yet the officer who superintends the discipline can tell what monk out of two thousand has absented himself on any particular day. I was the only man who slept up to six in the morning. The monks used often to remark that, were I a regular monk of the monastery, the superintendent’s birch would have stript my body of its flesh.
About six miles from Tashi Lunpo, and on the road leading from it in a south-westerly direction towards the monastery of Sakya (see below), is the monastery of Narthang, whence issued one of the three copies of the Kanjur ([p. 272]) brought to Europe by Brian Hodgson.
We have now to notice the two most important monasteries of the Red sect.
First, Sam ye (Sam yas) is on the great river Tsanpo, about forty miles from Lhāssa, in a south-easterly direction. It was the first monastery founded in the eighth century by Padma-sambhava, after King Khri Srong De Tsan’s restoration of Buddhism (pp. [271], [272]). It is the metropolitan monastery of the Red-capped monks and Urgyanpa sect. Sam ye was visited by the Indian explorer Nain Singh in 1874, on his final journey to Lhāssa[236], and by Sarat Chandra Dās in 1882. Many of its images are of gold, and it possesses an extensive library. Padma-sambhava was a master of Indian Yoga and magic. He is fabled to have worked many miracles—such as filling empty jars with divine water—at Sam ye. He undertook to expel all evil demons from Tibet, but was opposed by the Bon priests.
The other chief monastery of the Red sect is that of Sakya (Saskya), situated about fifty-five miles from Tashi Lunpo, on the road leading in a south-westerly direction towards Nepāl. It has four great sanctuaries and a celebrated library, and is surrounded by a large town, with temples and houses mostly painted red ([p. 273]).
It should be noted that in all the large monasteries of Northern Buddhist countries, varied assortments of vestments, robes, costumes, and masks are kept for use in the religious dances, masquerades, and dramatic performances which are a characteristic of Northern Buddhism. Indeed, some of the richer monasteries possess extensive wardrobes of great value, and the monks in their masquerading dances change their costumes very frequently and with great rapidity (see pp. [347]-350).
Note, too, that the libraries of such monasteries generally contain large and valuable collections of books. The 108 volumes of the northern canon called Kanjur, with the commentaries called Tanjur (see [p. 272]), constitute a library in themselves. In addition to these, there are vast numbers of other treatises written to elucidate the mysteries of Northern Buddhism, most of which are still a terra incognita to European scholars. It is well known that in mediæval times some Buddhist monasteries became seats of learning, which might have vied with the most learned Universities established at that period in Europe.