Part 5

Thirdly, are the wooden figures and other carvings in wood. And before we study these in detail let us remember that all religions are accustomed to borrow from those that have preceded them. In Christianity we have quantities of superstition lingering on from our days of paganism. Every religion that attempts a propaganda is compelled to take over much from the faiths which it displaces. India is a veritable mother of religions. One after another great religious systems have developed there. In very ancient days there was the simple nature worship of the old Aryans, as shown us in their sacred hymns, the Vedas. Among their gods two of the greatest were Brahma and Indra. Brahma was the creator, Indra was a god of heaven, an atmospheric deity who wielded thunderbolts, who hurled lightning strokes against the foe. In course of time the old Aryans advanced in culture, and their ancient worship gave way to a systematized religion, Brahmanism, with many gods, having definite names and qualities and attributes. But old Brahma and Indra lived on from the early days into Brahmanism. In that system Brahma was the king of all the gods, Indra was the king of heaven—having a special heaven of great beauty. It is said that his heaven was situated between the four peaks of Meru and consisted of thirty-two cities of Devas, eight on each of the four corners of the mountain. Indra’s capital was at the center where he sat enthroned, with a thousand eyes and four arms grasping the thunderbolt, in company with his wife and eleven thousand and nine hundred concubines. There he received monthly reports regarding the progress of good and evil in the world from his four Maharajas, heavenly kings of the cardinal points. The word Deva in Brahmanism is applied to the gods in general; if a god is not specifically named he is called a Deva.

Brahmanism was the religion of India when Buddha came. He devoted his life to its overthrow, and his teaching was hostile to its assumptions. Curiously, however, in the popular traditional life of Buddha many incidents are mentioned in which the friendliest of relations were established between Buddha and the Devas of the old faith. Thus it is said that Brahma himself appeared to Buddha and begged him to begin his teaching. Indra in these stories repeatedly shows his friendship. There is one splendid occasion mentioned in which Buddha had been to Indra’s heaven; when he was ready to descend, stairs appeared for him made of the choicest and most beautiful materials, and as he came down this stairway, Brahma descended by a side stairway of silver and Indra upon a stairway of purple gold upon the other side, while with them came thousands of Devas, singing Buddha’s praises.

The four Maharajas, heavenly kings of the cardinal points, who reported to Indra every month, showed themselves equally friendly. On one occasion Buddha was without a begging bowl; the Deva kings came to him and each one offered a begging bowl of emerald; the Buddha refused to take them, as they were of too precious material; so they offered bowls less fine and each was strenuous that he should accept _his_ gift; so Buddha took the four bowls and placing them together, lo, they became a single bowl, but with a rim showing how four had merged, so that none of the kind Devas was neglected or hurt in feeling, and the offering of all was accepted by the Great Teacher; it is said that this begging bowl was in existence hundreds of years after Buddha’s time, kept as a precious treasure in a temple.

We need not then, be surprised, to find that a number of the old Brahmanic gods were taken bodily over into Buddhism. Brahma and Indra are in fact to-day considered in Mahayana to be the chief patrons and protectors of Buddhism. The four Maharajas have also been taken over completely. And Yama, the very ancient god of hell, to-day finds himself as comfortable in Buddhism as he ever could have been in Brahmanism, or in the earlier Aryan worship of the Vedas.

Approaching any Buddhist temple in Japan or Korea you are almost sure to find two gigantic figures standing at the outer gate. They are the old gods Brahma and Indra. They are represented as full-muscled men of gigantic size, wrestling against the powers of evil. (Plate XIX.)

At another gate, farther up the trail, one is almost sure to find the Maharajas, heavenly kings of the cardinal points, under shelter, each in a niche or alcove; usually there are two on either side as one passes through the gate.[8] Being related to the cardinal points, they are always arranged in the same order, and are distinguished from each other by having different colored faces, each having the color proper to the district over which he has control. (Plate XXa, b.) Each carries a characteristic object, thus one bears a pagoda or tower on his hand, another carries a blazing jewel, the third varies what he carries, but frequently he plays upon a lute, the fourth one has a sword; these four great Brahman deities are found to-day in Korea at every Buddhist monastery, at the gate commonly called “the gate of the four kings”; there they watch, guarding the monastery against all harm. These are almost always figures of wood, but rarely one may find paintings on the wooden walls instead of the figures. While these guardian kings are always represented in heroic size the series at Pawpchu-sa are of extraordinary dimensions, probably the largest in Korea. (Plate XXI.)

Yama, too, was taken over from the older faith. The god of hell, he was assisted by ten helpers; each of these served as his representative in a separate hell, or division of that place of torment. Yama judges souls and inflicts penalties, assigns duties, and directs all the details of his realm. In most Korean monasteries there will be a hall of the ten kings in which we see figures of Yama with his assistants.

Next we may consider architecture. We place it fourth because we have pursued a logical order of approach. Coming through the beautiful scenery, we have passed over the trail, noticing the inscriptions on the cliffs, passing by the guardians of the outer gate, walking between the four kings on their ceaseless guard, but at last have come to the monastery buildings proper and see them in their age and beauty before us. We have already seen representations of many of these temples in the preceding lectures. You have noticed that all were built of wood; you have observed the curious mode of timbering; you have studied the tangle of projecting timber ends under the roof—the decorative features applied to them, the carving and painting; red, green, black, white and blue, the gaudiest of colors are used upon them in a fashion which we could not conceive, and from which we would expect disharmony, though the real effect is charming. You have examined in detail the carved decoration of the doors, sometimes foliage, again floral, or with figures mingled with the other designs. (Plate XVIII.)

While the buildings themselves are always of wood there is a curious use made of stone at times in the way of supports. You remember in a picture from Sukwang-sa this was illustrated. The building was in the nature of a pavilion where tablets bearing names were left by visitors; the pavilion was borne upon upright columns of stone, highly characteristic of Korea, but not common elsewhere.

Another feature of the architecture is wall-painting and here we find two different kinds. Pictures may be painted directly upon the woodwork of the wall. It is more common, however, to panel the timbered walls with plastering and then to paint upon the plaster. Let us examine examples of both kinds.

You remember that among the Buddhist books recently printed in _on-mun_ was an allegory by a Chinese monk. The writer’s name was Chiu-Chang-Chun; he was born in 1208 and died in 1288. His book was named _Sei-yeu-ki_; at Pongeum-sa, a scene taken from his book is painted on the wooden wall. We present it as an example of this kind of decoration. It represents a scene from the closing part of the old story. (Plate XXII.)

The pilgrims had almost finished their journey and were returning in state, on cherubim, with a great collection of idols and sacred texts. It was found, however, that they had suffered only eighty trials, and it seems that to be perfect they should pass through eighty-one—nine times nine—so angels were sent to overtake the eight cherubim, and tell them privately that they must let the monks suffer one trial more. This the angels did. As a sample of the story, and in explanation of the picture we quote from Dr. Richard’s translation.

“It was a strange sensation to be on the ground again. They had come down near some water. The master asked, ‘Can anyone tell me where we are?’

The monkey said, ‘Master, this is the mouth of the Milky Way River.’ The river was wide. It was also a lonely place, without houses or boats, and they were on the western side. How could they get across? Two of them suggested that since the master had left his mortal body behind they could cross the river by magic, but the monkey said, ‘No, it cannot be done.’ He knew that there was one trial more to undergo, and it was for this they had stopped on the way. Then they heard a cry, ‘Chinese priest, come this way.’ They went and found that it was the white tortoise, who had ferried them over as they went West, at the time when they had saved the family at Chen Kia Chwang. The tortoise said he had been waiting for their return for a long time and was glad to see them. The practical monkey said, ‘Formerly we had to trouble you. Now we meet again.’

At this the four pilgrims were very rejoiced to see the tortoise. He took them and the horse all on his back and swam across to the other side. As they neared the Eastern shore and it was getting dark, the tortoise said, ‘Master, when you went West I asked you to inquire of Buddha for me how I might return to my former state, and when I might get a human body. Did you remember to ask?’ But the master had been so absorbed in his own affairs that he had completely forgotten the tortoise and his request and so he had nothing to say. The tortoise, finding that he had been forgotten, turned a somersault, and threw all and everything into the river. Happily the mortal body of the master had been exchanged for an immortal one, and therefore he was safe in the water. The pig and the monkey, the boy and the horse, were also at home in the water, but the books were all soaked.”

The old allegory took a strong hold upon Eastern Asia and there must have been hundreds of pictures painted in the course of time representing its incidents.

As an example of the wall-paintings on plaster we may study a group of paintings, each representing an individual being, from one of the main temples at Sukwang-sa. None of these figures is haphazard, or without significance. Each would be recognized by the well-informed Buddhist. (Plate XXIII.)

Fifth are the idols or images. In the Buddhism taught by Sakya there was no room for them. The Great Teacher recognized no gods, and his followers should have no representations of deities. In Amida Buddhism, however, there are many gods, and a multitude of figures. The Buddhas, themselves are all represented among them including Sakya. When we examine the figures worshipped in Buddhist temples we find three groups, (a) Buddhas, (b) Bodhisattvas, (c) Arhats or Rakan. Sakya was not the first Buddha; in fact he was the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth in the line of those who attained enlightenment and gained _Nirvana_. The Indians reckoned time in long periods or _kalpas_; most of the Buddhas were in former _kalpas_, but even in the present _kalpa_, in which we live, Buddha had three predecessors; and before our _kalpa_ ends a successor will appear, Maitreya, or Miroku, the coming Buddha.[9]

The two Buddhas most commonly represented by figures in Korean Buddhism are Sakya and Amida. Miroku, too, is frequently to be seen, but Miroku is not yet a Buddha but only Bodhisattva.

Bodhisattvas were human beings who had piled up _karma_ and passed from stage to stage until they stood within a single step of Buddha-hood; during their next existence they could hope for illumination, enlightenment, _Nirvana_. There are many Bodhisattvas, but the ones most commonly represented by Korean figures are six in number. Their Korean names are Miryek Posal, Titsang Posal, Kwandyeieun Posal, Taiseichi Posal, Mounsou Posal, and Pohien Posal. These Bodhisattvas are much better known to the outside world by their Japanese names, and having introduced them in Korean terminology we shall refer to them as we have opportunity under the Japanese forms.

They become, then, Maitreya or Miroku, Jizo, Kwannon, Daiseishi, Monju, Fugen. Curiously enough in Korean iconography Jizo, a most mild and gentle god, fond of and loved by children, replaces Yama often as the king of hell. Kwannon, god of mercy, usually considered female in Japan, though not invariably, is usually male in Korean representation.

The third type of images of figures worshipped in Korean monasteries are the Arhats or Rakan. These are men who have made progress; they have meditated, studied, listened and thought; some of them are the original students of Sakya; all have gained a store of helpful _karma_, and many of them are worshipped. When made in figures there are two groups of Rakan. One known as the sixteen Rakan, the other as the five hundred. The sixteen Rakan are all absolutely historical personages of early date, friends, relatives, and hearers, of Sakya. In figures and in paintings they are represented with characteristic attributes, readily recognized.

These three kinds of figures are usually made of wood, painted and gilded; sometimes the gold leaf on them represents absolutely considerable value. The figures of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are frequently of large size, and often beautiful. They may be standing or seated, but in both cases the position of the hands and fingers is important and significant. (Plate XXIV.) Buddhism everywhere recognizes a series of finger symbols carrying a message. It is interesting to notice that the Buddha is usually included in a trinity. This fact is among many which have led some writers like Professor Lloyd, Doctor Richard, and Madame Gordon to think that Mahayana Buddhism is actually Christianity worked over and given the name of Buddhism.

Trinities are conspicuous everywhere. Often we find the central figure of the three to be Sakya, while to his right and left are the Bodhisattvas Monju and Fugen. The former sometimes sits upon a dog or lion, and the latter upon a white elephant. Then they are easily recognized by their mount. When not mounted they are not so easy of recognition. Even more common in Korea is the Amida trinity. Amida is usually accompanied by Kwannon on one side and Daiseishi on the other. (Plate XXV.) There are other trinities to be seen in Korean temples but these two are common. (Plate XXVI.)

These figures are generally in curious relation with paintings. In most temples where there are figures on the altar there are paintings hung up on the wall behind which usually represent the same beings as the figures, but accompanied by many more attendants. This association of pictures and figures representing the same being is rare, if it occurs, in Japanese Buddhism. (Plate XXVII.)

Lastly, we come to paintings. While many are related to figures as just mentioned, many more stand by themselves and are displayed upon the walls of halls and temples without figures. If we desire to make a study of the paintings of a monastery we must pass from hall to hall. Many monasteries are absolute masses of great buildings. In the main temple there are usually figures of a trinity of Buddhas or sometimes even three trinities with paintings hung behind. In the Rakan hall we may find the sixteen Rakan in figures, in paintings, or in combinations. In halls of the five hundred Rakan, we usually find five hundred little figures set on shelves thickly around all three sides; no two are just alike, and it is probable that you will be told with glee that if you look long enough you will find your own father represented among them. (Plates XXIX, XXX.) In the hall of the Ten Kings of Hell we sometimes find the figures of Yama or of Jizo with the ten helpers; if so, behind the figures are frightful paintings of the ten hells, a picture of each one behind its proper king. Sometimes, however, there are only paintings in this hall. (Plate XXVIII.) At some temples there is the hall of the Eight Scenes of the Life of Buddha.[10] These scenes are definite and fixed in every detail, are traditional, and have been passed down for centuries. The whole building is occupied by the eight great paintings hung upon the wall. Each contains a mass of detail, and there may be hundreds of individuals represented in a single scene. (Plate XXXIII.) Occasionally there is a hall of portraits at a monastery; such a one we saw at the monastery where we rebuked the priests for avarice and impoliteness; the building is devoted to the portraits which are said to be reliable representations of the head priests of this monastery for a period of almost fifteen hundred years. One might, however, visit many monasteries without finding such a hall.

Probably every monastery of any consequence has its hall of Seven Stars. It is always a little building and on the outskirts of the group of temples. Korea must have worshipped the constellation of the Great Bear, the Big Dipper or the Seven Stars, long before Buddhism came. Many Koreans still pay worship to the stars themselves. The father of a young man who was once my Korean interpreter, never fails to pray to the seven stars on any night when the sky is clear enough for them to be seen; the worship is interesting and deserves attention. It was probably taken over early by Buddhism. The picture always shown in this little hall is very curious. There is always a Buddha figure of some kind in it, but above are Buddha-like figures of the Seven Stars, heavenly beings, with pale faces; below there are the representations of seven earthly ministers corresponding to them; the idea that heavenly conditions are reproduced upon the earth is one common to many religions. (Plate XXXI.)

One other building is certain to be found at every monastery. It is a wee structure, sacred to the God of the Mountain. He is a mysterious being. He is usually represented with a beard and a beard quite different from those regularly seen in China, Korea or Japan. He is always accompanied by a tiger, particularly noticeable for head and tail; the god of the mountain varies more than any other representation in Korean art. The features mentioned, however, are always emphasized. All agree that the god of the mountain is individual; he is not the god of mountains generally, nor a god overseeing mountains everywhere, but ever specifically the god of _the_ mountain on which his shrine is located. (Plate XXXIV.)

Sometimes there is another very little hall known as the hall of the Lonely Saint. When it occurs it usually stands at the side of the hall of the god of the mountain and is of its size. Within there is a hanging picture of the Lonely Saint. Unfortunately we cannot show a copy of it. We have planned repeatedly to take it but something has always happened to prevent. Trollope tells us that the lonely saint was a historic personage, Chikai, who lived in China in the sixth century, and was the founder of the very ancient Tendai sect.

These paintings in Korean temples are rarely beautiful, but they surely deserve careful study by competent art students. The colors used are bright and light. Faces of Buddhas and Bodhisattvas are usually yellow or white. These high beings are regularly represented with aureoles, the boat-shaped aureole occurring commonly with Kwannon and Miroku. Gods and human beings occur in crowds in these paintings, but no matter how crowded the composition the individuals are usually definite and known. The artists are priests and it is common for the few who have famous skill to travel from temple to temple, touching up old pictures and painting new ones. They stay for weeks or months and then pass on to new fields. The designs are certainly traditional and very old, but the paintings themselves, as we see them in the temple, are many of them the work of very recent years. Most of the monks and acolytes know very little of the meaning of the pictures, but those who paint them, and those who are serious students can identify the actors in the scenes depicted. We reproduce a picture from Sukwang-sa which illustrates the crowding of persons and the attention given to detail. Upon it there are represented one Pul or Buddha, with three faces, four Posal or Bodhisattvas, the twenty-eight heavenly kings (each corresponding to one of the ancient constellations), and ten times ten gods (they are actually grouped by tens and there are ten each of earth, fire, water, small water bodies, air, the human body, movement, field work and mountain fortresses). This design is really a common one, and we have a photograph of it also from Pawpchu-sa. Comparison of the two pictures shows absolute identity in the number and placing of the individuals. (Plate XXXII.)

We have already stated that there is considerable variation in the picture of the god of the mountain, though he is always recognizable by certain features. Pictures of individual Rakan are common in temples and these pictures are always precise and definite, giving in every instance the characteristic features or attributes. (Plate XXXV.)