Within the Muli lamasery the rules of the reformed sects of Lamaism are observed with fair strictness, and no woman is allowed under any pretence to enter its coenobitical precincts. This is very different from the lax state of affairs that prevails in the large lamaseries at Tachienlu and further west. The houses or cells are for the most part buildings of two stories. In spite of their clean whitewashed exteriors they have a somewhat forbidding aspect, as, like all Tibetan buildings, the windows are small and have neither glass nor paper. Boarded windows are apt to give an impression of desolation to which it takes a long time to become accustomed. The lamasery is built on the slope of a mountain on which the various buildings rise above one another tier upon tier. The first view of it is very striking, for the configuration of the hill conceals it from sight until one is within a very short distance of its walls, and then almost every separate building becomes simultaneously visible.[245] To a traveller approaching from the south-west the view is even more remarkable; for the whole mass of buildings is entirely hidden from sight until he is within a stone's throw of its nearest walls, and then it appears suddenly to rise out of the ground before him in a blaze of whiteness. Nearly all the buildings face east and north-east, with their backs to the mountain. In front of the lamasery there is a gentle slope down to a valley running north-east and south-west, through which flows a small stream, the Rong Ch'u or "Valley Water." This stream flows to swell the waters of the Li Ch'u, which is visible from Muli at a distance of about 3 miles, and which flows in a south-easterly direction to join the Yalung. On the slope in front of the lamasery are terraced fields of wheat, barley and buckwheat, and pasture-lands for goats and yak. Behind and above the lamasery is a forest, consisting mostly of oak-trees and coniferæ. It is full of pheasants, but, as shooting is prohibited in the vicinity of the lamasery, they are of no use to a hungry sportsman. Above the forest is a precipitous range of crags. On the south side of the valley are sparsely-wooded hills. Two buildings in the lamasery stand out conspicuously, one above and the other below the lamas' dwellings.
LAMASERY OF MULI.
LAMAISM AT MULI
The lower one, with not very conspicuous gilded pinnacles, may be regarded as the cathedral, for it is there that the ordinary services taken from the Kah-gyur and Tang-gyur—the scriptures of Lamaism—are daily celebrated. I attended one of the services in the company of two of my lama hosts, but was requested not to go beyond the threshold of the open door. A large choir of lamas and acolytes were on their knees, intoning the usual chants in a manner that would not discredit the choirs of some English churches. The singers had evidently been well and skilfully trained, and though the music had none of the magnificent harmonies of European music, it was by no means unpleasant to the ear, and once or twice I was vaguely reminded of Palestrina. As the interior of the building was shrouded in deep gloom, I asked if I might enter and look round when the service was over, but was told that it would continue without intermission for eleven days and nights, during which time different choirs of lamas would successively relieve each other. This surprising assertion was probably merely designed to prevent my unsanctified feet from desecrating the sacred floor; or perhaps my hosts, who may have been told that Europeans were noted for their predatory instincts, feared that I might take advantage of the darkness to purloin some of the sacred utensils. The other conspicuous building to which I have referred stands on an elevation overlooking the rest of the lamasery, and was closed up when I arrived at Muli. It is the residence of the k'an-po, and in it special services are held during one month in each year, from the middle of the fourth to the middle of the fifth Chinese "moon," roughly corresponding to July. During that month no animal may be slaughtered, and the lamas are restricted to a purely vegetable diet. This is the only time that the Buddhist injunction to destroy no living animal is observed at Muli. Smoking, however, which is nowhere referred to, so far as I remember, in the Buddhist scriptures, is at all times strictly prohibited.
Muli is much smaller than some of the huge lamaist establishments in other Tibetan states, where there are sometimes as many lamas collected in one lamasery as there are undergraduates at Oxford. Muli has only four hundred and fifty, and this number includes the tra-pa[246] or novices, who are not, strictly speaking, entitled to be called lamas. Most of the lamas have been to Lhasa, and all must go there on pilgrimage before they can be allowed to hold high office. One of my hosts informed me that the journey to Lhasa occupied three months, but that the difficulties of the road were less serious than those which I had myself met with during my journey from Tachienlu.
RACE-TYPES OF MULI
Tibetan is the official language of the state, and most of the lamas can speak it; but they have also a language of their own, of which I attempted to compile a small vocabulary.[247] It certainly appears to be allied to Tibetan, but would be unintelligible to any one acquainted with that language only. It seems to show a considerable admixture of Mo-so, and perhaps of other less-known tribal dialects. The Tibetan alphabet is used for the transcription of sounds. When I asked what different races inhabited Muli-land I was only given a little vague information which may be far from accurate. Unfortunately the dialect of Tibetan spoken by the lamas who visited me was not always intelligible to my servant, far less to myself, and I am by no means satisfied that my questions were always clearly understood, or that the replies given me were properly interpreted. The Njong, I was told, are the predominant race, and it is of their language that I have given a few words in the Appendix. I have suggested in another place[248] that they may be more or less closely connected with the Mo-so of to-day. Less numerous are the Man-tzŭ (always a vague term), Lolos, Pa-No, Po-Nyi and Pa-Chi. The Pa-No and Po-Nyi, whoever they may be, appear to have languages of their own. The Pa-Chi are said to be of mixed Chinese and Man-tzŭ descent, and speak a dialect which my servant could make nothing of. Finally there are a number of Miao-tzŭ, an aboriginal race of which we still find vestiges in Kwang-si, Yunnan, Kuei-chou and other parts of China. It was curious to find representatives of that race or tribe so far west as the borders of Tibet,[249] and it would be interesting to ascertain if they have preserved any traditions of their origin. Unfortunately, it does not seem likely that there are any educated men among them. Even in Muli-land they are a despised race, and are the only people who are debarred from becoming lamas. The names of other race-types of Muli given in the T'ung Chih[250] are somewhat puzzling, and I can make little of them.
The lamas themselves are by no means well educated, and apart from the lamas no one can read or write. As in all countries where lamaism has established itself, laymen are allowed and indeed expected to remain in complete ignorance of letters. In Burma and Siam, where a far purer form of the Buddhist religion is observed, the monks are the schoolmasters of the people, and the monasteries are the village schools; but no such scholastic work is undertaken by the lamas of Tibetan countries, who believe that nothing is worth studying except what is in their sacred books, and that only lamas are worthy to study them. It is no wonder that the people of Tibet are the most ignorant and superstitious of any semi-civilised race in Asia.