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                         [Illustration: PLATE I
          Kim Ku Ha, President of Buddhist Committee for 1917
                                                               [Page 35]]




                                 KOREAN
                                BUDDHISM
                         HISTORY—CONDITION—ART


                            _Three Lectures_
                                   BY
                            FREDERICK STARR

                                 BOSTON
                         MARSHALL JONES COMPANY
                                  1918

                            COPYRIGHT, 1918
                       BY MARSHALL JONES COMPANY
                         _All rights reserved_

                               PRINTED BY
               THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.


                    THIS BOOK ON KOREAN BUDDHISM IS
                              _Dedicated_
                                   TO
                      MY FRIEND AND FELLOW-STUDENT
                           “KUGEN”—OGURI SAN
                                OF TOKYO




                              INTRODUCTION


The author does not over-estimate the importance of this little book: it
is nothing more than its title claims. It consists of three lectures
given to popular audiences, with the accompaniment of many
illustrations. It represents, however, a considerable amount of work in
an almost virgin field. It has involved hard journeys to remote mountain
monasteries, and days and nights of conversation and inquiry with many
monks and priests. It is not, however, a profound study nor an
exhaustive presentation. It barely touches many a subject, which would
alone furnish more material than could be treated in three such
lectures. It but scratches the surface.

The material which it presents is however new. Outside of Mrs. Bishop’s
account of her visit to the Diamond Mountain monasteries and scattered
references in her book to a few local temples, there is almost nothing
on the subject of Korean Buddhism accessible to English readers. A
glance at our bibliography will show that not one of the books or
articles there listed appeared in the West. All were printed at Seoul,
Shanghai and Tokyo and publications appearing at those centers are
little known outside. To aid serious readers, who may care to secure
them, the publishers’ names are given in our list. The author has
carefully read all the items listed and acknowledges indebtedness to all
the authors.

The actual amount of material for the full study of Korean Buddhism is
enormous. There are many voluminous works in Chinese and Korean dealing
with Korean history; when carefully sifted, these will yield many
important facts. Many, perhaps all, of the monasteries have records of
their history somewhat after the nature of annals; most of these are in
manuscript, but a few have been printed, presumably from wood-blocks cut
at the establishment by the monks. There is a third source of
information, as vast in bulk as either of the other two; it is the
inscriptions on monuments, which are scattered in thousands over the
peninsula. The gleaning of information from these three sources—for the
work must absolutely be of the nature of gleaning—will require many
years, but the work is worth the doing. It is urgent also. Every one of
these three sources is subject to destruction and even now is
threatened. Old books in Korea are being constantly lost and destroyed;
new editions of them are often carelessly and inaccurately reproduced;
in some cases, the new editions are intentionally mutilated, important
passages being suppressed. The monastery records are less secure than
ever before; with the new life and energy in these old establishments,
renovation and clearing out of nooks and corners and overhauling of
accumulations of papers, places documents, the value of which is unknown
or unappreciated, in serious jeopardy. As for the monuments many are
disappearing and others are becoming undecipherable through weathering.
There is pressing need then of promptly securing these materials and
making them available for study.

The Japanese are doing much good work. They are gathering old books and
records. Up to 1915 more than one hundred and fifty thousand books,
manuscript and printed, had been gathered by the Government-General.
Among these were the “Annals of Yi” numbering sixteen hundred and
thirty-three volumes and the “Royal Diaries,” aggregating thirty-one
hundred and ninety-nine volumes, “all hand-written with the brush.” Of
the “Annals” there were four sets made under the Korean government for
the four old royal libraries. The “Royal Diaries” were compiled at the
king’s orders; they dated from Yi Tajo himself, but those up to near the
end of the sixteenth century were burned by the Koreans at the time of
the Hideyoshi invasion; those now existing cover the period from 1623 to
1907. Japanese scholars have organized a society for reprinting old and
rare Korean books and have gotten out many volumes. They are piling up
direct observations also. From 1909 to 1915, they conducted a
peninsula-wide survey of ancient monuments and have printed the results
in four fine volumes, with splendid illustrations, under the title
_Chosen ko seki gafu_. They have taken steps toward the preservation
and, where necessary, the reconstruction of important monuments and
notable buildings. They are copying the monastery records and ultimately
will have a complete set of all that remain. The originals ought to be
left in possession of the monasteries themselves, with the obligation to
guard and keep them safely. As to monumental inscriptions, the
Government-General has been equally industrious. Up to March, 1915,
there had been made thirteen hundred and seventy-seven direct rubbings
from inscribed stones, of which forty-four represented Sylla,
forty-three the period of the Koryu Dynasty and thirteen hundred and
three the Yi Dynasty. It is fortunate that this preservation of material
is being undertaken. The world will profit by it, though it may still be
long locked up in Chinese characters.

In this book the work of Yi Nung Hwa is mentioned. His Buddhist magazine
should yield some data of value. If his History of Korean Buddhism is
printed it ought to be of high importance, as he naturally has a much
easier task in consulting the original sources than any foreigner. If
his work is done with care and critical judgment it should be the
necessary foundation for all future study. All depends upon how he
performs his task. Readers who become interested in our lectures are
advised to read Bishop Trollope’s admirable _Introduction_. It clears
the ground and indicates the direction of further studies.

The author has hundreds of negatives illustrating Korean Buddhism. One
hundred and fifty pictures were used in the original lectures. When
cutting down to what seemed the absolute limit, in selecting pictures
for the book, he found that he had more than double the number permitted
by the necessary conditions. Further reduction was difficult and many
pictures have been rejected, which are more beautiful or interesting
than some of those that are included. The final choice was based upon
the desire to give as clear an idea as possible of actual conditions and
to represent all the important phases presented in the lectures. One or
two of the pictures were made by Manuel Gonzales in 1911; all the others
are the work of Maebashi Hambei, who accompanied me, in my last three
expeditions to Korea, as photographer.

                                                 Chicago, July 12, 1918.




                                CONTENTS


  Korean Buddhism: PAGE
      History                                                           1
      Condition                                                        32
      Art                                                              66
  Bibliography                                                         97
  Notes                                                                99




                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


  PLATE FACING PAGE
  I Kim Ku Ha. President of Buddhist Committee for 1917    _Frontispiece_
  II General view: Pomo-sa                                              2
  III General view: Yuchom-sa, Diamond Mountains                        4
  IV Sari monuments: Yuchom-sa                                          6
  V Main Temple: Kumsan-sa                                             10
  VI Sari monument pyramid, Kumsan-sa. (A relic of Buddha is
          supposed to be enshrined here)                               16
  VII Geomantic Mast: Chung-ju                                         18
  VIII The Buddha: cave temple, Sukkul-am                              22
  IX Bodhisattva figure, Sukkul-am                                     24
  X Great Miriok: Eunjin. General view                                 26
  XI Group at Fukoan, branch of Sinkei-sa; Diamond Mountains           28
  XII Hain-sa: Building for the Wood-blocks                            34
  XIII Hain-sa: Building for the Wood-blocks, interior                 38
  XIV Great Buddha relief on rock face: Inner Kongo                    44
  XV Sari monument to Muhak: Hoiam-sa                                  48
  XVI Head-priest and Pagoda: Sinkei-sa, Diamond Mountains             50
  XVII Main Temple: Yuchom-sa, Diamond Mountains                       52
  XVIII Carved Door, Yuchom-sa                                         54
  XIX Brahmanic Guardian of Buddhism: Songkwang-sa                     56
  XX, A, B. Two Deva Kings, Guardians of World Quarters: Sukwang-sa    58
  XXI Gigantic Deva King. Guardian of World Quarter: Pawpchu-sa. The
          Korean standing by is a married man of normal stature        60
  XXII Wall painting: The White Tortoise Scene of the _Sei-yeu-ki_:
          Pongeum-sa                                                   66
  XXIII Wall paintings on plaster: Sukwang-sa                          68
  XXIV Great figures of Buddhist Trinity, seated: Pawpchu-sa. Sakya,
          Monju, Fugen                                                 70
  XXV Great figures of Buddhist Trinity, standing: Kumsan-sa. Amida,
          Kwannon, Daiseishi. (Thirty feet or so in height)            72
  XXVI Figures—a Trio of Trinities: Sukwang-sa. (The figures are
          said to be Kwannon, Amida, Daiseishi, Monju, Vairoshana,
          Fugen, Jihi, Sakyamuni Teikakara)                            74
  XXVII Figure and painting of Kwannon: Pomo-sa                        76
  XXVIII Hall of the Ten Kings of Hell: Yongju-sa. (Notice
          combination of figures and painting; the god of hell with
          two helpers, five kings with small servants, two other
          officers, and one of the two Brahmanic guardians)            78
  XXIX Hall of Five Hundred Rakan: Sukwang-sa                          80
  XXX Extraordinary combinations of Rakan figures: Hall of Five
          Hundred Rakan: Songkwang-sa                                  82
  XXXI Painting of the Seven Stars: Sukwang-sa                         84
  XXXII Group painting: Sukwang-sa                                     86
  XXXIII One of the Eight Scenes in the Life of Buddha: Sakya gains
          Enlightenment: Pomo-sa                                       88
  XXXIV The God of the Mountain: Fuko-an, branch of Sinkei-sa,
          Diamond Mountains                                            90
  XXXV Portrait of one of the chiefs of the Sixteen Kakan:
          Chikchi-sa                                                   92
  XXXVI Great painting: Pawpchu-sa                                     94
  XXXVII Great painting displayed at Buddha’s Birthday Ceremony:
          Tongdo-sa                                                    94




                            KOREAN BUDDHISM




                        KOREAN BUDDHISM: HISTORY


Since 1911 it has been my privilege to make four journeys into Korea, so
long known as “The Hermit Kingdom.” To-day Korea has ceased to be an
independent nation; she has been completely absorbed by Japan and forms
part of the Japanese Empire. I found much of interest in the country. I
studied the people and their daily life; I visited many of the famous
points of interest and beauty; I have studied somewhat into Korean
history. Nothing, however, has more interested me than the study of
Korean religions, particularly Buddhism. When asked to give some public
lectures this summer, I consented gladly to speak for three evenings on
the subject of Korean Buddhism. My three lectures will deal with
History—Condition—Art.

The history of Korea falls into three sharply marked periods. The first
is known as the era of the Three Kingdoms—it ended with the year 918, a
year easy to remember because exactly one thousand years ago. The second
is the period of the Koryu Dynasty; it began with the year 918 and ended
in 1392, a date easy for us to remember because precisely a century
before the discovery of America by Columbus. The third period, known as
the period of the Yi Dynasty, began with 1392 and continued until 1910,
when the independent history of Korea ended with its absorption by
Japan.

The history of Buddhism in Korea is divided into the same three periods,
as the things which caused breaks in the national history were related
to the religion. We shall then speak of the Buddhism of the Three
Kingdoms, of the Koryu Dynasty and of the Yi Dynasty.

                        [Illustration: PLATE II
                         General view: Pomo-sa
                                                               [Page 31]]

The early period is called the era of the Three Kingdoms because at that
time the peninsula was occupied by three different nations. The largest,
in the north, was called Koguryu. Japanese pronounce the name as Koma.
It occupied more than half of the peninsula. Its capital city was
P’yeng-Yang, still a city of importance. The second kingdom was smaller;
in the southwest of the peninsula, it was known by the name of Pakche,
which is pronounced by the Japanese Kudara. The third kingdom occupied
the southeastern section of the peninsula. It was larger than Pakche,
but smaller than Koguryu, and was called Silla, Japanese, Shiragi. Such
then, were the three kingdoms which existed through a period of hundreds
of years.

Unfortunately all names in Korea have several pronunciations. They are
usually spelled with Chinese characters. If a Chinese pronounces the
name, he will pronounce it in a certain way, dependent upon what part of
China he comes from; a Korean will pronounce the same characters quite
differently; a Japanese has still a different pronunciation. It is for
this reason that the Korean and Japanese names of these kingdoms differ;
the same characters are pronounced Koguryu by the Koreans and Koma by
the Japanese; Pakche on the Korean tongue becomes Kudara with the
Japanese; and where the Korean says Silla, the Japanese says Shiragi.

Such then was the condition of the peninsula preceding 918. It was
divided into three kingdoms, each with its own ruler. Buddhism, a
religion which began in India, came to Korea by way of China. It
naturally first reached the northern kingdom. It was introduced in 369
A.D. and its introduction was the result of foreign missionary effort.
In those days there was an Empire of China, but there were also various
small Chinese kingdoms along the northern border of the Korean
peninsula. Buddhism came to Koguryu from one of these little Chinese
kingdoms, the king of which sent its message by the hands of a priest
named Sundo, who brought idols and sacred texts. He was well received on
his appearance in P’yeng-Yang. The king of the country placed the crown
prince in his care for education. In a few years the new religion had
made great headway. It had brought with it art and education, and the
kingdom of Koguryu became a center of culture and advancement.

                        [Illustration: PLATE III
               General view: Yuchom-sa, Diamond Mountains
                                                               [Page 35]]

Five years later, in 374, another priest named Ado was sent from the
same Chinese kingdom. His coming added impetus to the religion and two
great monasteries were founded near P’yeng-Yang, over one of which Ado
was placed, while Sundo had charge of the other. These two monasteries
were not only centers of religion, they were full-fledged universities
according to the ideas of the universities in those days.

After they were founded Buddhism continued to spread rapidly so that in
392 it became the official religion of the kingdom.

We are told that in the year 378, as the result of the coming of these
foreign priests, the city of P’yeng-Yang was laid out as a great ship.
To us this sounds strange. It is not easy for us to realize that a city
was really regarded as a great ship and that a mast was erected in its
midst, apparently in order that the sails of prosperity might waft the
ship to good fortune and success. Outside the city were stone posts to
which the ship was to be tied up, and for many years it was forbidden to
dig wells in the city because it was feared that if a well were dug, the
boat would spring a leak and the whole place would be foundered. Such
was science in the fourth century. It seems strange to us now, but ideas
of that kind were rife in those days; in fact they have not yet
disappeared from popular thought in Korea. I am not sure whether such
ideas are connected with Buddhism, or whether they only form a part of
that old geomantic philosophy which has so greatly influenced China,
Korea and Japan through centuries. We find geomantic survivals of many
kinds in many places. Old masts are scattered all over Korea, here and
there, sometimes in quite inaccessible places; built of wood, they rise
to a great height, and are sheathed with metal, which may bear an
inscription and date. Many other places than P’yeng-Yang were thought of
as great ships—temples, cities, entire valleys. (Plate VII.)

                        [Illustration: PLATE IV
                       Sari monuments: Yuchom-sa
                                                               [Page 55]]

At Tongdo-sa, a great monastery in the south of Korea, my attention was
called to an iron ring fastened to a rock near the trail. They told me
that it was for the tethering of a great ox, that all the mound of earth
and rock near there is considered to be a great ox lying down; a hole
about a foot in diameter in the rock, close by the trail, is said to be
the nostril of the creature, and a knoll of earth near by formed its
head, while the great body stretched out far beyond.

At Riri my attention was called to a mountain ridge and I was told that
it was a running horse; two stone pillars stood on the level ground near
by—they were intended to prevent the horse from damaging the fields. It
seems that many years ago it was realized that a running horse was
likely to do damage to growing crops; the wise men of the district were
called together and consulted; they determined that they would destroy
the danger by erecting these pillars of stone, beyond which the horse
cannot go.

Perhaps ideas like these were taught in those old universities in 375
A.D. Perhaps they were then, as now, individual and professional
knowledge, not to be learned in schools.

The new religion next entered the little kingdom of Pakche. This was in
the year 384. This time it was not sent unsolicited by some little
Chinese kingdom, but came by request from China proper. The people of
Pakche knew what Buddhism had done for Koguryu and they asked the
Emperor of China to send them a famous priest named Marananda. It seems
that he was a Hindu, who had a great reputation for learning. He brought
with him images and texts and all the paraphernalia necessary for the
gorgeous ceremonials of his religion. He was received with great respect
by the king and was lodged in the palace. Soon after ten other priests
came from China and the religion made rapid headway through Pakche. It
was from Pakche in the year 552 that Buddhism was sent for the first
time into Japan. The king of Pakche sent images and texts and a letter
to the Emperor, Kimmei, saying that it was a good religion, and that he
hoped the Japanese would accept it.

Last of the three kingdoms to receive Buddhism was Silla, to which it
came about 424. It is reported to have come from the capital city of
Koguryu, P’yeng-Yang, and the priest who brought it was named Mukocha.
He appears to have gone down the Taidong River to the sea and then
around the peninsula and up the east coast in order to reach Silla. He
is always spoken of as a black man, or <DW64>; perhaps he was actually an
African. There seems to have been some mystery about his arrival; it may
be that the people did not like his color, or were afraid of his strange
appearance. He hired himself out as a plowman to a farmer named Morei.
His employer concealed him in a cave. It is said that when he was hidden
in this cave it frequently shone with glory. Outside the cave there was
a peach tree, which burst into bloom with flowers of five different
colors, and in the winter, when there was snow on the mountains outside,
irises and other flowers of wondrous fragrance are said to have broken
their way up through the snow. The black monk is said to have worn a red
cap and a crimson _kesa_. It would seem that the whole neighborhood must
have known about these wonders.

About this time it is said that an ambassador from China came to the
king of Silla at his capital city of Kyong Ju. The messenger brought
various gifts, among them a substance which no one knew; it had never
been seen before in Silla. It seems strange that the ambassador should
not have known what he brought, but it is asserted that he was ignorant
in the matter, and so the king sent to the cave—only ten miles away—and
ordered the black monk to come to Kyong Ju to identify the gift. He had
no trouble in recognizing it, because it was incense, common enough in
Chinese Buddhism, but before unseen in Silla. He told them that when
burned before an idol with prayers of faith, the god was sure to answer
petitions. It happened at the moment that the king’s daughter was ill,
and he begged the black monk to try the efficacy of incense and prayer.
Seven days he spent in prayer before the idol and a cure was wrought.
Soon afterwards Mukocha begged the king to send to China and the West
for artists to come and cut figures in the rock walls of his cave, as he
desired to make a chapel to the gods. The request was sent, the artists
came, and it is said that they spent forty years in carving the
wonderful figures which to this day adorn the walls of the little
circular chapel in the mountain cave. It would require a separate
lecture for me to tell you of my visit to that remarkable shrine, with
its genuine treasures of art. (Plates VIII, IX.)

                         [Illustration: PLATE V
                         Main Temple: Kumsan-sa
                                                               [Page 72]]

I must, however, say something about the old capital city of Kyong Ju.
It had its period of glory, and its ruins are still impressive. Almost
fifteen hundred years have passed since the black monk brought in the
new religion. To-day there remains only a little town, but all the
country around is sprinkled with the relics of the past. Here is the
splendid grave of General Kim, twelve hundred years old. It is faced
around with stone slabs, set firmly in place, twelve of them being
carved with the animals of the Eastern Zodiac. Here are the ruins of an
ice-house, perhaps nine hundred years old; cunningly built of stone,
under a mound of earth, with true arch-vaulting, it sheltered ice for
the chilling of food and the cooling of drink a thousand years ago.
There remains here a portion of a beautiful pagoda; much of it was
destroyed in the sixteenth century, when Hideyoshi’s army of invasion
came from Japan and wrought havoc and destruction in Korea; built in the
seventh century, it was a beautiful structure of splendid,
thoroughly-baked black bricks and stone; stone doors below, moving on
stone pivots set in stone sockets were decorated with carved work.
To-day only the three lower stories remain, but they serve to show that
the people were true artists. Here, too, one sees an astronomical
observatory, built of stone, a sort of tower of circular form, seventeen
feet through; it was intended for the observation of heavenly bodies;
nearly thirteen hundred years of age, it is perhaps the oldest existing
building constructed for such purposes in the world.

In those fine days, Kyong Ju was a center of trade and industry.
Chinese, Koreans and Japanese were there; we are certain that Tibetans,
Indians and Persians came thither, and it is claimed that merchants from
Arabia used to stand in its market place. Of course we all know of the
antiquity of culture around the Mediterranean Sea; we appreciate its
achievements, and love to think of its glories; but we are apt to think
of the Far East as being eternally stagnant and it surprises us to learn
of a busy mart of trade in Kyong Ju, Silla.

And it had its scholars also. There was Ch’oe Chuen. He was a poet and
essayist; he was a skilled calligrapher, writing the beautiful Chinese
characters famously; he was reckoned as one of the great sages and
learned men of his day in China proper, than which there was no higher
honor.

During the period of the Three Kingdoms, Buddhism thus penetrated to
every part of the peninsula. It prospered. Splendid temples were built,
great monasteries constructed, magnificent bells cast, beautiful pagodas
erected, figures carved by thousands. Religions that prosper too greatly
become corrupt. State religions tend to become curses. Religious
endowments tie up money which the people need. The dead hand may hold
under restraint property which should be at work, helping the world. All
this happened with Buddhism in Korea. In the last days of the Three
Kingdoms Korean Buddhism was refined and artistic, impressive and
beautiful, but was corrupt and harmful rather than helpful.

We may, perhaps, take the date 685 A.D. as marking the greatest glory of
Silla. At that time she was gaining power over the neighboring kingdoms
and before her glory ended she ruled the whole peninsula.

In 876 the king of Silla was named Chung—also called Hongang. During his
rule the country was rapidly declining. He was followed by his brother,
who in turn was succeeded by his sister, who became queen of Silla in
888. Her name was Man. The only reason why we mention these three rulers
is that we wish to introduce the man who led up to the second period of
Korean history. His name was Kun-ye. He was the son of king Chung, by a
concubine, but never became king of Silla. When his aunt, queen Man, was
ruling, he became a disturbing element, heading an insurrection. The
glory of Silla was really past and the old kingdom was rapidly
declining. Kun-ye was fortunate in having an excellent general, named
Wang-on, and made headway with his rebellion; founding a new kingdom in
central Korea, he gradually extended his rule, through the skilful
leadership of Wang-on, until much of the middle part of the peninsula
was under his control. But the man was mad, religiously mad. He was not
only a Buddhist; he called himself a Buddha. Under the cloak of religion
he did all kinds of wild and wicked things, and indulged in the most
absurd extravagances. Finally the burden of his tyranny and his
religious claims became so heavy that his officials plotted against him
and begged his general, Wang-on, to dethrone him and seize the power.
Ultimately that very thing happened, and in the year 918, one thousand
years ago, Wang-on became the first king of a new dynasty, that of
Koryu.

Before we leave the period of the Three Kingdoms, however, let us notice
two interesting matters. You remember that Buddhism was brought to the
Three Kingdoms by three priests—Sundo, Marananda, Mukocha. Sundo was a
man from Tibet; I suppose he represented the great Mongolian race, that
he was a yellow man; Marananda, who brought religion to Pakche was a
Hindu; presumably he represented the Caucasic peoples; he may have been
dark, but our courts would probably have to call him a white man;
Mukocha was called a black man, a <DW64>, and probably really represented
the Ethiopian race. Is it not interesting that the peninsula of Korea
should have received its first generally spread religion through
representatives of the three great races of the world, the yellow, white
and black? Buddhism, the first universal religion that the world ever
saw, early made an appeal to all men, regardless of color and of race.

                        [Illustration: PLATE VI
                    Sari monument pyramid, Kumsan-sa
          (A relic of Buddha is supposed to be enshrined here)
                                                               [Page 72]]

Two famous men, Chinese, lived during this period. Their names were
Fa-hien and Hiouen-Tsiang. In 399 A.D. Fa-hien started on foot from
China, to visit India, to learn of Buddhism and Buddha in the old home.
He travelled many thousands of miles of weary pilgrimage in order to
bring back with him fresh idols and correct texts and new inspiration
from the cradle of the great religion. It was more than two hundred
years later, in 629, that Hiouen-Tsiang made the same journey. Think of
the danger these men passed through! They crossed deserts, which even
to-day are almost impassable; they climbed difficult mountains and
crossed broad rivers; they journeyed through countries of hostile
peoples; they had to travel without artificial means of transportation
through districts of foreign speech; they did all just to visit the old
home of the Great Teacher, and to get his religion at first hand. We
have the record of their travels. Their simple diaries have been
translated into various languages of Asia and into English, French and
other European tongues. Fa-hien was fifteen years upon his pilgrimage,
Hiouen-Tsiang sixteen years. Both lived to come back to their homes to
the great advantage of their co-religionists.

We have no diaries written by old Korean pilgrims, but we know that
during the glow of early convertship many from the peninsula made the
same journey to the West.[1] Between 638 A.D. and 650 seven at least
went from Korea to India to study the new religion in its old home. Most
of them died there, never returning to their native land.

We now come to the second division of Korean history and its Buddhism,
that of the Koryu Dynasty. You remember that General Wang-on, when his
royal master went crazy and the officials revolted, seized the kingly
power. He removed the capital to Songdo. Silla quickly went to its final
fall and the new kingdom controlled the whole peninsula. Wang-on
realized perfectly that the abuse of Buddhism had been the chief trouble
with Kung-ye. His coming into power was largely due to an
anti-Buddhistic movement. Still, he himself was Buddhist and while he
did much to check the abuses of the religion he continued to practise it
on a more modest scale. At his new capital he ended the first year of
his rule, 918, with a famous festival of which we have a description.

                        [Illustration: PLATE VII
                        Geomantic Mast: Chung-ju
                                                                [Page 6]]

  There was an enormous lantern, hung about with hundreds of others
  under a tent made of a network of silken cords. Music was an important
  element. There were also representations of dragons, birds, elephants,
  horses, carts and boats. Dancing was prominent and there were in all a
  hundred forms of entertainment. Each official wore the long, flowing
  sleeves, and each carried the ivory memorandum tablets. The king sat
  on a high platform and watched the entertainment. (Hulbert.)

You see he was very far from cutting loose from Buddhism. In reality,
the religion flourished over the whole peninsula. When Wang-on died in
942, he left a written message for his son and successor. It contained
ten rules of conduct for his guidance as king, which were numbered from
one to ten. Three had to do with religion, and, of course, that religion
was Buddhism. In the first rule he advised his son to continue to
recognize Buddhism as the state religion. The second rule was that he
should build no more monasteries. While it was a good thing to continue
Buddhism, it was a bad thing to build more monasteries, as too much
money had already been expended upon them. The sixth of the rules was
for the establishment of an annual Buddhist festival of the same nature
as the one he had celebrated at the end of his first year. So Wang-on
did not destroy Buddhism but continued it.

In course of time the old religion regained much of its harmful and
destructive influence. From history we may cull a few events that
illustrate its power. About the beginning of the eleventh century there
came from China a fuller development of Confucianism than had before
existed. About 1026 this influence became very strong; the official
class, as was natural, was Confucianist; it organized and directed
governmental action; between the officials, Confucianists, and the
priests, Buddhists, there grew up a deadly conflict which lasted on
through all the centuries. In 1036 the king was devoutly Buddhistic. He
“decreed that if a man had four sons one of them must become a monk;
because of the Buddhist canon against the spilling of blood, the death
penalty was changed to banishment; another great annual festival was
instituted. The king also encouraged the custom of having boys go about
the streets with Buddhistic books on their backs from which the monks
read aloud as they went along, to secure blessings for the people.”
(Hulbert.)

In 1046 it is said the king fed and lodged ten thousand monks in his
palace. In 1056 or thereabouts one son out of three was compelled to
become a monk. In 1136 it is said that thirty thousand monks were
present at a single ceremony.

Under such circumstances, what would happen? When a religion had such a
hold on the community—building splendid monasteries, erecting great
temples, making idols into whose construction gilt of pure gold entered
in quantity, making bells of metal that might have been better used for
practical ends, draining the people of wealth by giving enormous
properties eternally into the possession of religious establishments—a
crash was bound to come. It came in Korea. The country had been drained;
the people had been heavily burdened; the men who as monks and priests
should have led in instruction and good living were notorious examples
of profligacy and corruption.

At last, in 1392, a man arose who fought against the king. The excuse
for his fighting was the fact that the government was given over to a
corrupt religion. Just as before it was the successful general who
became the founder of a new dynasty; in this case also he had been loyal
at first to the deposed king. The man’s name was Yi, and his title Tajo,
and he is commonly known in Korea as Yi-Tajo. He is revered as the
founder of the dynasty which has just ended. In 1392 the old kingdom of
Korai disappeared and with it the dynasty of Koryu, and in their place
came the modern Chosen and the Yi Dynasty. Seoul became the new capital.

                       [Illustration: PLATE VIII
                   The Buddha: cave temple, Sukkul-am
                                                               [Page 11]]

Before we leave this period let me say something about _miriok_ and
printing-blocks. The word miriok has given me considerable trouble; I
cannot learn whether it is a Korean or a Japanese word, or what was its
first meaning, or whether it has anything to do with the word Miroku,
the name of “the coming Buddha.” Anyway the name miriok is applied in
Korea to a stone that is worshipped; it is sometimes a natural stone and
sometimes artificially shaped to more or less of the form of a Buddha.
There are thousands of them in Korea. There are big miriok and little.
My belief is that they were at first simple, natural stones, with
something about their shape which was suggestive. They might be natural
pinnacles, or rounded forms. Probably the old Koreans, long before the
days of Buddhism, worshipped such stones and chiefly in order that the
family might be increased. It was probably barren women and childless
men who went to miriok and prayed for children. Then came Buddhism and
took over the stone-worship of the olden time. Later those miriok which
were artificially shaped to human form—Buddha-like—came into being. Were
there time, we would speak of various of the larger miriok in Korea,
like the great pair at Paju and the couple at Ansung. Of the largest,
however, that at Eunjin,[2] we will say something. There are many
strange stories connected with it. It is apparently a natural pinnacle
of rock, which has been carved into the shape of a Buddha; it is more
than fifty feet high and can be seen from a great distance; it is more
than nine hundred years old; in its present form it is even to-day
worshipped by thousands of people; in the past there have been times
when tens of thousands gathered at once to worship it. (Plate X.)

It is said that the stone suddenly appeared, pushing up from the ground
and that it cried out with the voice of a boy; it was seen by a woman
who was gathering ferns for eating; when she reported the miracle it was
confirmed by an official inspection after which orders were given that
it should be carved to its present form.

                        [Illustration: PLATE IX
                     Bodhisattva figure, Sukkul-am
                                                               [Page 11]]

No land surpasses Korea in its abundance of local tales. Every hill,
valley, conspicuous rock, stream and pool of water has its story. Every
miriok of prominence in the country has traditions associated with it.
The one most commonly told of this great miriok runs as follows: A
country man who had been to the capital, returning to his home passed
this great stone figure. He noticed a pear tree growing from the head,
which bore several fine pears. The thought occurred to him to carry one
of these to his village as a present for the magistrate. With infinite
difficulty he climbed up the smooth surface of the figure,—the magnitude
of the achievement will be evident from an inspection of the picture.
When he reached the face and climbed over the lips he hesitated as to
whether to pass up through the nostril,—a foolish procedure as it was a
blind passage,—or climb around the nose. He decided upon the former
method and proceeded to worm his way into the opening. He experienced a
mighty shock and, when he came to himself, found that he was lying on
the ground. His presence in the nostril had irritated the figure which
had sneezed, thus throwing him to the earth. Ruefully rubbing his
bruises, he looked upward at the figure regretful for his lost effort.
But he had after all been fortunate and the same sneeze which had
dislodged him had shaken one of the pears from the tree and it had
fallen on the grass near by. Picking it up he hastened on his way
rejoicing.

The second item connected with this period to which I wish to refer is
the cutting of wood-blocks for printing the entire Buddhist scriptures.
The set of blocks is still preserved in the ancient monastery of
Hain-sa. They were made during the reign of King Kojong and are seven
hundred years old. There are eighty-one thousand of these blocks and
each of them prints an entire page of a Buddhist text. Altogether they
print six thousand eight hundred and five volumes, one thousand five
hundred and eleven different works. A special building is devoted to
their preservation and they have been taken over by the Japanese
government as National Treasure. (Plates XII, XIII.) The blocks are said
to represent the work of monks through fifteen years and the set is
reputed the best in the world. Several years ago Count General Terauchi
ordered several copies of the Tripitaka printed from these blocks. One
of these copies was presented to the Emperor and a second is preserved
in the temple, Senyu-ji, Kyoto.

                         [Illustration: PLATE X
                   Great Miriok: Eunjin. General view
                                                               [Page 24]]

Yi-Tajo came to power through an anti-Buddhist movement. Yet on the
whole he dealt leniently with the religion. He crippled it but did not
destroy it. Through the greater part of the Yi Dynasty, however,
Buddhism was at serious disadvantage. Only for a short time under the
king Seijo did it have a momentary revival. He ruled from 1456 to 1468.
During his reign a splendid temple was built in Seoul of which we have
an interesting contemporary description;[3] no sign of it remains
to-day, but the beautiful pagoda erected at the same time, and the
turtle-borne monumental stone recording the occasion of its construction
are in existence in Pagoda Park at the center of the city.[4] This pious
king was succeeded in 1469 by his young son, Chasan. His mother, the
late king’s widow, was at first his regent but in 1472 he took the
actual reins of power and almost his first act was to drive Buddhism out
of Seoul. He not only abolished all the monasteries and temples in the
capital city, but in every city and town throughout the kingdom. The
priests took refuge in the mountains and from that time down until these
latter days there have been no Buddhist temples in Korean cities. There
have only been monasteries in the mountains, often in inaccessible
places.

Those were drastic measures and under them Korean Buddhism suffered and
sank to lowest ebb. It passed through hard times during four hundred
years and more of exile. Still the religion was not dead, and during
this period of test it even showed some signs of worth.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XI
        Group at Fukoan, branch of Sinkei-sa; Diamond Mountains
                                                               [Page 47]]

In 1592, Hideyoshi sent his great army from Japan to conquer Korea. It
was under two generals, one a Christian and the other a Buddhist. The
invaders wrought great destruction in the unfortunate peninsula. Many of
the temples and monasteries in the mountains were destroyed, altars were
stripped of treasures, monks and priests driven from their sanctuaries.
During this invasion some of the priests showed themselves loyal, thus
Hulbert tells us:

  Hyu-Chung, known throughout the Eight Provinces as the great teacher
  of Sosan, was a man of great natural ability as well as of great
  learning. His pupils were numbered by thousands and were found in
  every province. He called together two thousand of them and appeared
  before the king at Euiju and said: “We are of the common people, but
  we are all the king’s servants and two thousand of us have come to die
  for Your Majesty.” The king was much pleased by this demonstration of
  loyalty and made Hyu-Chung a Priest-General and told him to go into
  camp at Pop-Heung Monastery. He did so, and from that point sent out a
  call to all the monasteries in the land. In Chulla province was a
  warrior-monk, Ch’oe-Yung and at Diamond Mountain another named
  Yu-Chung. These came with over a thousand followers and went into camp
  a few miles to the East of P’yeng-Yang. They had no intention of
  engaging in actual battle, but they acted as spies, took charge of the
  commissariat and made themselves generally useful. During battle they
  stood behind the troops and shouted encouragement. Yu-Chung, trusting
  to his priestly garb, went into P’yeng-Yang to see the Japanese
  generals.

Thus we see, that notwithstanding the condition of poverty, ignorance
and unimportance to which the Buddhist monks had sunk there were still
among them teachers of great learning with crowds of students, who were
ready to serve their king in his hour of trial.

In 1660 a curious condition had arisen. With these mountain monasteries
open to all who came, they had become a refuge for the disaffected.
Suppose a man had trouble with his family, he would become religious and
retire to a monastery as a monk; if a man failed in business, he might
find refuge there; for one reason or another it was easy for a man who
was vicious or a failure or unhappy to seek escape in the mountain
monasteries. Thousands flocked to them until the government became
disturbed and about 1660 the king issued an edict “that no more men with
family ties should desert them in this way and that all monks who had
families living should doff their religious garb and come back to the
world and support their families like honest men.”

Notwithstanding neglect, poverty, and limitations the monasteries showed
remarkable recuperative power after the destruction wrought by
Hideyoshi’s armies. Thus, Pawpchu-sa was practically destroyed and the
great mass of fine buildings now there has been constructed since. Some
of the great monasteries farther south also suffered severely; yet the
damage has been fully repaired. (Plate II.)

Nor did scholarship completely disappear in these later years. When Dr.
Legge translated Fa-hien’s diary into English, he had four editions of
the work at hand—two Chinese, one Japanese and one Korean; the latter,
which bears the date 1726, was the most satisfactory and was superior as
a piece of book-making.




                            KOREAN BUDDHISM:
                               CONDITION


With the exile of Buddhism to the mountains several results ensued. In
the first place each monastery became a thing by itself; there was no
unity, no combination, no force in the movement of Buddhism as such,
over the kingdom. In the second place, not being permitted to enter the
cities, the Buddhist priests came to be looked upon with contempt by the
people; they were, of course, beggars, vowed to poverty—they had always
been that, but they had had respect; with their seclusion in the
mountain monasteries they lost what honor had been attributed to them;
they became ignorant, vicious and depraved.

In his _History of Korea_ Dr. Hulbert says:

  “In 1902, a very determined attempt to revive the Buddhist cult was
  made. The Emperor consented to the establishment of a great central
  monastery for the whole country in the vicinity of Seoul, and in it a
  Buddhist high priest who was to control the whole church in the land.
  It was a ludicrous attempt, because Buddhism in Korea is dead.”

Remember at just what point in the history of the nation this effort to
restore Buddhism took place. Japan’s war against China was declared in
1894; it ended in 1895, with the treaty of Shimonoseki; it was one of
the most important wars of recent times; it was fought over Korea—in
order to see whether Korea owed allegiance to China or was an
independent nation. From 1895 on, Korea was a hot-bed of world intrigue.
China, Russia, Japan, all were struggling on the peninsula for a
continued foothold. Each was trying to gain advantage. From this
condition, in 1904 came the great war between Japan and Russia, which
was ended by the treaty of Portsmouth. It too, was a war on account of
Korea. It decided the question as to whether Russian, or Chinese, or
Japanese influence should preponderate. The year 1902 came right between
those two great wars, which were fought on account of Korea. In 1902 the
man who had been King—the last real representative of the Yi Dynasty had
become Emperor. One of the results of the war of 1894 was to make Korea
an empire, and her king an emperor. The effort to re-establish and
revive Buddhism was made then during this period of the empire.

The passage quoted from Hulbert was printed in 1905. It referred to an
attempt made in 1902, which he says failed, since Buddhism was dead.
To-day is 1918. I have been visiting Korea since 1911 and have seen what
seems to be definite growth and revival of the old religion. Buddhism
appears to-day to be very far from dead in Korea. It shows signs of
active life and there may be prospects of its future growth and large
development.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XII
                 Hain-sa: Building for the Wood-blocks
                                                               [Page 27]]

The monasteries of Korea are under control of thirty head
monasteries.[5] Some of these have only two or three unimportant
subordinate monasteries, but others are the heads of really great
groups. For instance, Yuchom-sa, in the heart of the Diamond Mountains,
is the head of forty monasteries in that remarkable mass of peaks
(Plates III, XVII); Pongeum-sa, which is near Seoul, is said to be the
head of eighty-six monasteries. These head monasteries in 1902 had
become greatly reduced in property, membership, influence and splendor.
They were estranged from each other. There was no feeling of unity among
them. Each monastery was a thing by itself and decay and corruption were
everywhere evident.

But about six years ago the priests of these thirty head monasteries
came together; they held a great meeting and discussed their common
interests; they decided that union was necessary and a forward movement,
a thing such as was tried in 1902 and which failed then. It was tried
again and has not failed. They elected a president of their commission,
with a term of office of one year. His whole time is devoted to the
interests of united Korean Buddhism for that year. (Plate I.) They
bought property in the city of Seoul and erected a central building,
partly temple and partly office building. The expenses of this head
office are borne by the thirty temples in proportion to their importance
and wealth. The monasteries are graded into five groups and each
contributes annually a set sum for the advancement of Buddhism in the
peninsula.

While in Seoul last year, I visited a theological seminary of Buddhism.
It has a good location in a desirable part of the city; it occupies a
fine old Korean building; it has a corps of teachers of some ability; I
found sixty-five students in attendance. The institution had been
running for about three years. Most of the students were already
connected with some of the mountain monasteries; they had come in for
information, for improvement, for further study; they were looking
forward to return to their temples with new strength and vigor for their
work. The young men with whom I talked seemed to be earnestly interested
and anxious for improvement. A definite course of three years
instruction is offered to them. The number of students has grown
steadily and no doubt the time will come when there will be hundreds of
students in this institution.

There is to-day a magazine conducted in the interests of Korean
Buddhism. It has been published for something like six years. The
history of the editor, Yi Nung Hwa, is rather interesting.[6] His father
is a pillar of the Presbyterian Church in Seoul, one of the most
successful of the mission churches. The young man himself was educated
in Catholic schools in Seoul; his education came from foreigners, and he
is now official interpreter for the Belgian Consul; but he finds his
pleasure and outside interest in this magazine for the advancement of
Korean Buddhism. Son of a Presbyterian Elder, trained in Catholic
schools, speaking French, Korean, Chinese and Japanese, professionally
engaged in service at a foreign consulate, he is the editor of a
magazine for Buddhist propaganda!

Mr. Yi is also the author of a history of Korean Buddhism, which had not
yet been printed when I saw him. It is, I think, the only history that
has been written covering the entire field of Korean Buddhism.
Everything that is printed in Korea must pass under the eye of the
Japanese government, and can be printed only with its permission. It
makes no difference whether the material is secular or religious,
social, economic, literary or political. At the time when we were
speaking about his book it had been sent in to the government for
examination. It is to be hoped that it was approved and that permission
was given for its publication. A book of that kind would have importance
and no such book exists, in any modern form certainly, for popular
reading.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XIII
            Hain-sa: Building for the Wood-blocks, interior
                                                               [Page 27]]

One of the most interesting things in connection with this modern
movement of Korean Buddhism, and one which seems to show that it has
real vitality, is the fact that Buddhist books for common reading are
being printed. Most Korean books are printed in Chinese characters and
are thus sealed to the common people; they can be read only by scholars
or people of considerable education. Yet Korea is said to have invented
one of the most perfect systems of writing that the world has seen. It
is known as the _on-mun_ and is competent to write the language
perfectly and easily. But scholars in Korea have never used the
_on-mun_; it has been considered suitable only for the ignorant, for
women and children. If a book is to reach the common people, however,
and be widely read, it should be printed in _on-mun_. The books issued
by the foreign missionaries in their propaganda have been printed in
_on-mun_, or in a mixed script of Chinese character and _on-mun_. The
fact that several Buddhist books have recently appeared printed in
_on-mun_ shows that Korean Buddhism is reaching out after the common
people.

Two of these books deserve special mention. One is called the “Eight
Scenes from the Life of Buddha.” It follows quite closely the story of
Buddha’s life as told in other countries. The book is widely offered at
book stores and street stalls and is said to have considerable sale.
More interesting than it, however, is the allegory called _Sei-yeu-ki_.
You remember that in the seventh century a Chinese pilgrim, Hiouen
Tsiang, went on foot from China to India, and that he came back loaded
with books and images for use in religious worship. That pilgrim was
really a historic character, and he wrote an account of his journey, a
simple and charming diary of travel. His book was called _Sei-yeu-ki_,
which in its English translation appears under the title of “A Report of
Buddhist Kingdoms.” In it he described the countries through which he
had passed, the monasteries and temples which he had seen, and the
adventures he had undergone. Now in the thirteenth century a Chinese
monk wrote a book with almost the same name. As pronounced there is
scarcely any difference; when the names are written they are easily
distinguished. The writer intended to imitate the name of the diary of
the old pilgrim. In his story, he says that a certain man named
Hiouen-Tsiang—he uses the actual name of the old pilgrim—goes on a
journey to the West for books, idols and information, just as the real
pilgrim did; but instead of telling a true and simple story this man
writes an allegory something of the nature of “Pilgrim’s Progress.” It
is full of astonishing adventures. It seems that the Emperor of China
died and came to life again. He determined to send Hiouen-Tsiang, “the
Master,” to the West for books, idols and pictures. The Master started
upon his errand and as he travelled picked up a strange group of
comrades. The Emperor had given him a white horse, and of course he had
to have a boy to take care of it; in addition he had for companions and
helpers a monkey and a pig. The master and his three human companions
were gone, like the real pilgrim, about fifteen years; they travelled,
of course, through the same countries, but had startling adventures. The
master was very pious, but unpractical; in fact he was a weak subject
for the hero of a story. But the monkey was fine, and when they got into
trouble it was always the monkey who rescued them. When the master,
through his lack of knowledge, and practical experience, was caught by
the most palpable traps and tricks only the monkey could rescue him. Yet
they all abused the poor creature. All were jealous of him and on the
slightest occasion pig or boy or horse urged the master to make the
magic hat equipped with thorns and pins squeeze and hurt the monkey’s
head in order “that he shall not become proud.” It is really an
interesting and beautiful allegory. It has recently been translated into
English by a missionary in China and anyone who wishes may read it. For
hundreds of years it has been read in the original Chinese by Chinese,
Koreans and Japanese. To-day Koreans may read it in their own language,
printed in _on-mun_.

All these signs of life seem to show that Korean Buddhism is far from
dead. It is coming forth from its mountain exile and bids fair to make
itself felt in the future.

Let us examine for a moment the organization of an ordinary monastery.
The monasteries are scattered through the mountains. Many of them are in
remote places and it is difficult to reach them. Some are so far back
that it would be impossible for them to go farther. I have no fears that
ordinary tourists will spoil my delight in Pawpchu-sa, or Hain-sa, or
Yu-chom-sa. If one desires to see them he must pay the price. Take
Pawpchu-sa for instance. To see it we dismounted from the railroad train
and took a Ford car across country ten miles to a little district
capital; the next day, by government automobile, we went out over a road
which had just been put in good order—there was only one break in it
that was serious; for forty miles we travelled over this mountain road,
deeper and deeper among the hills, up and up into the narrowing valley,
until with mountains on all sides of us we reached the village of Poun.
There we abandoned the automobile. The party went by horses, but a chair
had been provided for my benefit. I hate chairs, and would have much
preferred a horse, though Korean horses are little creatures and
disagreeable. Their gait is as bad as anything one can imagine; there is
nothing like a saddle, but only a broad cushion, without stirrups, and
the traveller’s legs hang down over the front of the cushion, one foot
on each side of the horse’s neck and the rider has no control whatever
over the horse; nor has anyone else, although the _mapu_, or “boy,” runs
along beside and hangs on to the halter or strikes the beast with stick
or whip. I hate a Korean horse, but I hate a chair worse. However, we
started, the rest on horses. When we had gone about half a mile the
chair carriers, though professionals, declared they could go no farther;
this, of course, was a mere question of weight; it was, however, a great
relief to me. Promptly an exchange was made with my little Japanese
photographer and interpreter, who took the chair, while I mounted his
horse—the smallest and weakest of the outfit. We travelled on and on for
miles; we passed one ridge behind another and another and another, until
at last we reached Pawpchu-sa. Anyone who really journeys to Pawpchu-sa
has my regard and blessing.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XIV
             Great Buddha relief on rock face: Inner Kongo
                                                               [Page 70]]

The trip to Hain-sa, where the woodblocks are preserved, is a trying
one. We went by _basha_. Japanese _bashas_ are bad; the Japanese
themselves think them far superior to Korean, but I prefer the latter. A
_basha_ is made for six passengers, but usually carries eight. The
Japanese _basha_ has two benches running lengthwise at the sides; three
persons fill a bench, four overfill one. The driver sits in front and a
single horse moves the conveyance. Such is the Japanese _basha_. The
Korean vehicle has no benches at the sides like the Japanese affair; the
passengers sit upon the floor with thin, rush mats under them, probably
to keep the floor of the vehicle clean; there are no springs and the
roads are rough. After travelling sitting on the springless floor for
thirty-two miles, we abandoned the _basha_, as there was no longer a
cart-road, and rode about seventeen miles on horses; it was like
travelling over Mexican trails. Thus we reached Hain-sa. I do not
begrudge a visit to Hain-sa to any person; those who make the journey
deserve to be treated as friends and brothers.

Each monastery has its official corps. First comes the head priest. He
has a hard time of it. He has to deal with the outside world and to
oversee everything; he is business manager; he has little to do with
spiritual direction, but has to settle all the quarrels and deal with
all the problems that present themselves to the monastery; he gets all
the hard work and shoulders all the blame. He receives, however, some
extra rice and is entitled to an extraordinary exhibition of respect. He
has a councillor to help him in problems of a serious nature. Next comes
the religious head, who leads the services and sees that they are
properly observed. The first religious service of the day comes at three
o’clock A.M. At that hour the visitor hears the bells and gongs and the
droning of songs and prayers. The people of the monastery all turn out
to early service. There may be other services throughout the day; there
are also times of meditation, and in special halls, where no disturbance
is permitted, persons spend hours or entire days in silence and pious
thought. There is always a steward whose business it is to attend to the
food supply of the entire monastery. In a monastery of a hundred and
fifty or two hundred persons in a remote mountain district, the
steward’s work is important and exacting. At every monastery there are,
of course, one or two cooks, whose business it is to prepare the food.
There is regularly also, a group of little fellows, boys from ten to
fifteen years of age, whose business it is to help these others on every
occasion when help is needed. These boys have little in the way of
religious duties, but sweeping and cleaning, errands, burden carrying
and hard work in general falls on them. (Plate XI.)

The balance of the population in a monastery is devoted to religious
living. These include three different kinds of persons—priests, acolytes
and orphans. The monasteries have always been orphan asylums. When a
child in the country around is left without parents or other proper
guardians he is usually sent to the mountain monastery; unless the
unexpected happens he will grow up in the way of religion and become a
priest or monk when the time arrives.

Many young men come in from the outside world for purposes of
instruction. They look forward to becoming monks, but during their
period of study they let their hair grow long, dress as outsiders and
are regarded as still belonging to the world. Most of them, however,
carry out their intention and remain permanently in the monastery.
Thirdly, there are the regular monks and priests. They are dressed, of
course, in characteristic style, and their heads are shaved. They live
on vegetarian food and are vowed to celibacy. At some of the more
important monasteries there is a resident teacher, but most of them
depend upon a teacher sent from the head temple. The greeting given him
when he arrives is beautiful to see. All know when he is expected, and
at the hour they go in procession, dressed in their best robes, out to
the farthest gate to meet him. When he arrives all but the head priest
prostrate themselves so that they actually grovel in the dust. Then,
accompanying him, with the head priest walking before, the whole company
goes back to the monastery and the teaching almost immediately begins.
He barely takes a little refreshment and rests a bit before he
undertakes his duties. During the period of his stay the teaching
continues throughout the day. One class or group comes in after another;
the teaching is sometimes from books, sometimes from the teacher’s own
experience and knowledge.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XV
                    Sari monument to Muhak: Hoiam-sa
                                                               [Page 73]]

Are the monasteries really places of great learning; are they centers of
deep piety? It is hard to tell and much depends on one’s definition.

We must remember that there are two vastly different kinds of Buddhism.
They are almost opposite; the one is certainly the negation of the
other. The first is the Buddhism which the actual Buddha taught. You
remember that he was an historic character, who lived at about five
hundred years before Christ. An Indian prince, he is known under various
names as Sakyamuni, Siddartha and Gautama. He pondered much over the
problems of life and devoted himself to the solution of mysteries; he
tried asceticism and listened to one teacher after another; he wandered,
meditated, fasted; he finally reached enlightenment. He decided that
life was an illusion and a snare which one would gladly be rid of; he
discovered that the chain that bound one to this existence could be
broken. Release comes from careful conduct; it comes through right
living, and right thinking; it comes in course of time, after many many
existences; through right living in one life man gathers _karma_ which
carries him to higher and higher stages until at last he becomes a great
scholar; finally he becomes a Bodhisattva, which is but one step from
Buddha-hood; and finally, from a Bodhisattva, through enlightenment, he
becomes a true Buddha and when his earthly life ends, passes out into
oblivion, blissful, calm nothingness.

Buddha was one of the greatest of world teachers. His teaching was
simple; we may work out release gradually from the thraldom into which
we are born; through careful thought and right living we may pass from
stage to stage until at last we merge into infinity and lose our
individuality.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XVI
          Head-priest and Pagoda: Sinkei-sa, Diamond Mountains
                                                               [Page 74]]

Buddha taught that we end in _Nirvana_; his doctrine was a revolt
against the idea of an individual soul that lives forever; in his
religion there were no figures, no idols, nothing for worship. Buddhism
proper taught nothing about gods. It simply taught men to strive for
enlightenment, to become Buddhas and to pass out into _Nirvana_.

But this is not the Buddhism of China, Korea or Japan. The Buddhism of
these three countries recognizes an individual soul that continues. It
has scores of gods and represents them by images or idols; the man who
lives to-day does not try to work out salvation for himself through
stage after stage of higher living. On the contrary he seeks salvation
through another and that other is Amida Buddha. The Koreans call him
Amida Pul. You may see them any day standing outside the temples
repeating over and over again the formula, “Namu Amida Pul, Namu Amida
Pul, Namu Amida Pul.” They are thereby gaining salvation; through faith
in Amida they will reach the Western Paradise. There was no Western
Paradise in Buddha’s teaching; there was no continued existence of the
human soul; there was no one through whom men might be saved; one must
work out his own salvation. But in this second Buddhism, any person in a
single moment may gain salvation. It makes no difference whether a man
has led a good or evil life, death-bed repentance may save him. A man
does nothing for himself; faith only through the merit of another wins
salvation—it sounds like good Presbyterian doctrine.

It is evident that these two forms of Buddhism could not diverge more
widely than they do. The early Buddhism taught by Sakyamuni is called
_Hinayana_ or the “Little Vehicle.” The other form is known as
_Mahayana_ the “Great Vehicle.” Korean Buddhism is and for the most part
always has been _Mahayana_, yet in the Buddhist temples of the Korean
monasteries one finds many a figure of Sakyamuni and the worshippers
seem totally unconscious of their inconsistency and of the fact that
their worship of Sakya is a contradiction in terms.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XVII
               Main Temple: Yuchom-sa, Diamond Mountains
                                                               [Page 35]]

This leads us to inquire regarding sects. Japanese Buddhism is divided
into many. Thus we may speak of Shingon, Jodo, Zen, or Nichiren Buddhism
there. Each of these names stands for a definite system of doctrinal
belief. Every student of Buddhism in Japan knows the fundamental
differences upon which the dozen or more Japanese Buddhist sects are
based. Knowing something of these divisions in Japan it was natural to
ask on coming into contact with Korean Buddhism what sects they have.
The answer was always immediate and glibly given. “We have two
sects—_Syen_ and _Kyo_.”

This was said everywhere, but I cannot see that there is anything in
Korean Buddhism like the sects of Japan. In Shingon there is a whole
series of doctrines and beliefs and practices; so in Zen, so in every
other sect. Every person belonging to a given sect holds those dogmas
and practises those ceremonials characteristic of his sect. No man is at
once Shingon and Zen. But in a Korean monastery we find Syen people
meditating and Kyo people reading and to-morrow the situation will be
reversed, and it seems as if the terms apply merely to two modes of
discipline, not to actually different sects. At all events in the same
monastery we regularly find Syen and Kyo.

The texts of Mahayana Buddhism were originally in Sanskrit. They have
been translated into Chinese and it is in their Chinese form that they
are generally studied in China, Korea and Japan.[7] In Korean
monasteries we not infrequently find books that are printed, at least in
part, in Sanskrit characters. Do the Korean monks know the Sanskrit
language? Far from it. I doubt whether there are a half-dozen priests in
all Korea who know anything whatever of the language.

At every temple one may secure _tarani_. A _tarani_ is a sheet of paper
with something printed on it in red from a wood-block. The wood-blocks
at the different temples vary and while most of the characters in the
printing are Chinese, there is a sprinkling of Sanskrit. A _tarani_ is a
sort of passport to the Western Paradise and it is supplied for burial
with the dead. When a man is burned or buried a _tarani_ is placed with
his body. We secured them from almost every monastery visited. Perhaps
no priest in Korea can read them. We saw, however, at one monastery, an
old book concerning _tarani_, and it seems probable that these texts
have been copied from such books. About sixty years ago there seems to
have been a special fancy for cutting these wood-blocks for printing
_tarani_ and most of those we saw date from that time.

Interesting are _sari_ monuments. As we neared Yuchom-sa we passed ten
or twelve stone monuments with a square base, a swelling body and
decorated tip. We were told that these were _sari_ stones and that in
them a _sari_ or “jewel” was buried. These _sari_ are curious things. It
is said that when the body of a monk of special piety is burned a little
pebble will be found among the ashes. It is irregular in form, clearly
shows fusion, and looks a little like a gem or crystal. It is believed
that it has been formed from the elements of the dead body, and they say
that only about one man out of four hundred gives rise to one of these
_sari_.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XVIII
                         Carved Door: Yuchom-sa
                                                               [Page 82]]

I had always had my doubts about them. One day at Songkwang-sa, where
the monks are exceptionally depraved, a policeman was with us to see
that nothing happened. Coming to some _sari_ stones we asked a monk
about them. He told us the same story that we had heard before and we
asked him if he really believed that it was true. He answered, “O yes,
surely it is true.” The policeman, however, expressed vigorous doubt.
The monk replied, “You don’t believe it, I will show you.” So we
proceeded to tear a _sari_ monument to pieces! It seemed a shocking
thing to do. We took off the top stone, and laid it by, and then turned
the main stone upside down. At the center was a little cavity which was
neatly covered with a thin sheet or disk of earthenware; removing this
we found inside a hole filled with packing, in which was a small tin
capsule bearing an inscription. This was said to be the name of the man
who had honored the dead priest by erecting the monument to him. Opening
the capsule it was found to contain some packing in the midst of which
was the little gem—all that remained to represent the worthy dead man.
We put it back with care, replaced the packing, closed the capsule,
repacked it and reconstructed the monument as it had been originally. No
doubt all these _sari_ stones really contain some such relic. That
policeman had his doubts—I still have doubts as to just what _sari_ are,
but it seems certain that all _sari_ stones really have _sari_ in them.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XIX
              Brahmanic Guardian of Buddhism: Songkwang-sa
                                                               [Page 79]]

There is no question that there is much ignorance and even vice among
the monks. In this monastery where we examined the matter of _sari_
stones there were only five men, poor, ignorant fellows. We early
noticed that the head priest there lacked a tooth, but only found after
we had left the place that the most devout of the five monks had knocked
it out the day before, having had a fight with his superior. The
neighbors told us that that monastery was a place of constant disorder
and bad conduct.

At one monastery we were even moved to give a lesson in behavior. Here
we were accompanied by a Japanese policeman; he was with us to protect
and give such aid as possible, but was absolutely of no use. The monks
received us coldly, answered a few questions and then disappeared.
Unaccustomed to such treatment, I complained to the policeman who
replied, “This monastery has a very bad name in all this district; the
monks are avaricious; they are thieves; they always treat visitors
badly; they do nothing unless they are well paid. That is why I came
with you.” I replied, “Why don’t you do something, then? Tell them to
come out and do their duty.” He shook his head sadly and said, “You do
not know the reputation of this temple hereabouts; it has a very bad
name indeed.”

So turning to my interpreter I said, “We must deal with this problem
right here.” Calling a priest I said to him, “I understand that in this
monastery you have a bad name; there is no time to waste; we want no
delays; call every monk and priest here at once.”

                        [Illustration: PLATE XXa
            Deva King, Guardian of World Quarter: Sukwang-sa
                                                               [Page 79]]

                        [Illustration: PLATE XXb
            Deva King, Guardian of World Quarter: Sukwang-sa
                                                               [Page 79]]

He did so, and when they had come I placed them in a semicircle before
me and spoke to them. “You are Buddhists; you bear the name of Buddha, a
great teacher; he was kind and good and cared nothing for money; he
desired to help people and make them better, and people who are
Buddhists should be like him; I am told that you are avaricious and when
visitors come here you treat them with unkindness and discourtesy unless
they pay you well; I shall pay you nothing, but I want you to think of
the disgrace you bring upon your name by such conduct; I am visiting the
monasteries because I wish to see whether Buddhism is a living force in
this land; I wish to see how you monks live and what your conduct is,
and what the people say about you; go back to your rooms and think over
what I have said; as I go from place to place, looking at things here, I
expect to have them open, and I wish you to treat me as a brother and a
friend; remember that others who may come after me deserve equally good
treatment; it is a shame to bring disgrace upon a cause.”

Well, there was an instant conversion. Poor, ignorant fellows, living in
their remote mountain monastery, how should they know better? They gave
me honey water and popped rice; they showed me their buildings and their
treasure; they begged that I would come again and some accompanied me,
when I was leaving, down to the outer gate.

As for ignorance, it is probable that very few of them could pass
examination on any kind of Buddhism, whether Hinayana or Mahayana. What
more could be expected? Surely we can scarcely throw stones. What do
most of us know about Christian doctrine? How wise religiously are the
common people in our churches? In a recent newspaper it was stated that
a man among us asked five professional men about the Holy Ghost. Do you
suppose he got much in the way of a satisfactory answer? In reality he
got nothing. All these educated men had other business than to know
about the Holy Ghost. They were not well informed in regard to the
religion in which they had been reared; and yet we expect Buddhists, who
have been exiled in mountain monasteries for four hundred years to know
so much!

                        [Illustration: PLATE XXI
       Gigantic Deva King, Guardian of World Quarter: Pawpchu-sa
          (The Korean standing by is a man of normal stature)
                                                               [Page 80]]

How is the population of the monasteries maintained? Whence do new
members come to-day? There is, of course, always a supply of orphan
children, few of whom ever go back into the world after they have been
brought up in monastery surroundings. Other people drift in for many
reasons. Men who have lost their friends and relatives by death often go
to the monasteries. So do those who fail in business, or who have been
disappointed in life enterprises. The head-priest of one small, but very
famous, ancient monastery, only recently became religious; he had been
employed as a janitor or helper in a Buddhist temple of Japanese in a
Korean city and became interested and attracted. The head-priest of one
of my favorite monasteries was in the world until he had reached the age
of fifty years or more; he had been in military service and I believe,
had risen to the rank of Colonel; getting on in years, however, he began
to think seriously of religious matters and retreated to the monastery.
With one young priest at Yuchom-sa in the Diamond Mountains we talked
for hours, until midnight. He was genuine; he had the spirit of true
religion; he was a thinker and was in the monastery from principle.
There are no doubt many like him.

We were at Tongdo-sa on Buddha’s birthday. It is one of the great
monasteries of the South. They knew we were coming and therefore we
found a place to sleep. When we were within three or four miles of it we
found ourselves in a crowd of persons going up to the celebration. The
nearest railway station is about ten miles away. Most of the people,
however, had walked from their homes. It is a mountain district,
sparsely settled; there are surely only two or three towns of any size
within fifteen miles of the place. When we reached the monastery we
found one of the liveliest scenes we ever witnessed in Korea. The
head-priest told us that ten thousand people slept on the grounds of the
temple that night. The majority of them were women. Of course, _that_
would have been true if it had been a Presbyterian gathering. We were
two nights there. On the full day that we spent with them a wonderful
crowd of people was present; there were a few Japanese—a teacher and one
or two officials—but apart from these the multitude was Korean. Probably
fifteen thousand people were there that day. We found that one of the
events of that evening was a moving-picture show in one of the monastery
buildings. The life of Buddha was to be represented in moving pictures.
All this does not look much like death! It is said that at the other
head monasteries there were proportionately equal crowds.

We often asked what efforts were being made at monasteries for general
improvement and helping the outside world. The purpose of a monastery,
of course, is not related to such undertakings. In all religions, at all
times, monasteries have been only for persons who were seeking
individual improvement or salvation. In their very essence they are not
philanthropic or reform movements. Still, with the lack of temples in
the cities and definite teaching of the people through them, it might
seem as if something would be undertaken by the monasteries. In reality
there is much more in this direction than could be expected. At several
of the monasteries there is a school for outside children; some have
undertaken a definite work of teaching and some others realize that they
have a genuine opportunity to aid in the elevation of the country. More
and more the monasteries seem to awake to the existence of these
possibilities.

Korean Buddhism has, perhaps, a political part to play. When the
Japanese took over Korea, Buddhists came into the country in great
numbers. Japanese priests and temples came with these settlers. These
priests and temples are in the cities and larger towns. They do not,
however, fit with the Koreans. There might be thousands of them and they
would still not make Korean converts—not because the Japanese are not
ready to do mission work, but because the Koreans are not ready to
accept it. The Korean Buddhism of to-day is actually Korean, not
Japanese.

I can imagine nothing that would be more dangerous to Japanese control
than a strong and vital Korean Buddhism that was hostile to Japan. On
the other hand, I can think of nothing that would be a greater help to
Japan than a Korean Buddhism developed among those people by their own
priests and friendly to Japan. What Korean Buddhism is to be in the
future depends upon its relation to the government now there. If Korean
Buddhism accepts and coöperates with the Japanese control, it will
become the mightiest factor that can be devised to make Japan’s hold on
the peninsula secure. If hostile to Japan, when the crisis comes, as it
surely will come, when Japan will be tried out again and once for all on
Korean soil, Korean Buddhism may be the decisive element in that moment
of test.




                          KOREAN BUDDHISM: ART


To-night we are to consider art in Korean Buddhism. We shall examine it
under six different forms—scenery, sculpture in stone, wood carving,
architecture, images or idols and painting.

Perhaps it scarcely seems to you as if scenery—real landscape, not
landscape painting—were art. In the Orient, however, it is surely such.
Eastern peoples have for hundreds of years been passionately fond of the
beautiful in nature. Chinese, Koreans, Japanese will travel on foot or
by any possible conveyance many miles to see a famous view. They locate
their houses in pretty places; they build temples and shrines upon
commanding points. When the Korean monks, in the fifteenth century, were
compelled to take refuge in the mountains, they located their buildings
in surroundings harmonious to the religion. Their locations have been
chosen with great care. And there is much more in scenery than the
careless spectator thinks; for the Oriental scenery always contains
something of the esoteric.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXII
Wall Painting: the White Tortoise Scene of the _Sei-yeu-ki_: Pongeum-sa
                                                               [Page 83]]

For example, think of the Diamond Mountains. They are a remarkable
tangle of peaks and ridges; measuring only thirty or forty miles across,
the area is more or less elliptical in form; it is called “the twelve
thousand peaks” or summits. The Diamond Mountains have been famous for
two thousand years, and famous not only in Korea, but in China and
Japan. They have been the theme of hundreds of poems and have furnished
material for scores of books, some of them hundreds of years old.
Artists have delighted in depicting their beauties. The Diamond
Mountains with their twelve thousand peaks are divided into two
portions. The name Diamond Mountains in itself is most suggestive; the
diamond is one of the most precious symbols in Buddhism—indicating
purity, clearness, brightness—and Korean Buddhism was a religion of
light and illumination. The two divisions of the Diamond Mountains are
known as the Inner and the Outer Kongo. The traveller may visit the
outer region and realize but little of the true significance of
Kongo-San. In the Inner Kongo every outstanding rock is significant.
Every building has been placed with reference to some hidden meaning of
the landscape, and with every step the visitor goes deeper and deeper
into mystery.

Let us approach a mountain monastery. The trail is well marked long
before we see the buildings. Once upon the grounds we come to some of
those carved posts or pillars, devil posts, _changson_, which were
illustrated in the preceding lecture, and were no doubt taken over from
the old-time paganism. We pass through the outer gate. All the gates
bear names significant to the thoughtful worshipper. We pass through
gate after gate like “the gateway of Life,” “the gate of All-powerful
Truth,” “the gate of Illumination.” Many of these gates are pavilions,
resting-places, whence one may view the scenery, or visit with
companions, or meditate in preparation for worship. As we approach the
buildings we may find ourselves in a narrowing valley, or passing some
cascade. All the rock cliffs have been seized and utilized and bear
inscriptions, beautifully cut into the stone material. We see the
formula, constantly on the tongue of Korean Buddhists, _Namu Amida Pul_,
not once or dozens of times, but everywhere, repeated hundreds of times
over. The _Daimon_, or great gateway, is the last; it signifies the gate
of death through which we reach the heavenly life.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXIII
                 Wall Paintings on Plaster: Sukwang-sa
                                                               [Page 85]]

At last we come to the mass of monastery buildings. Every temple has its
name marked clearly on it, sometimes the names themselves are
suggestive, helping the worshipper to clearer thought and serious
meditation.

The second form of art is sculpture in stone. We have already mentioned
the formulæ and other inscriptions cut upon the cliffs. To the Oriental
eye they are as beautiful and represent as much artistic skill as
figures would. There are, however, also on the natural rock faces,
designs and figures cut in low relief, which we find in the most
unexpected places. In the Inner Kongo there are many great
representations of the Buddhas cut upon the vertical rock face. Here,
for instance, are three figures, twenty feet in height, one of the great
Buddhist trinities. Again, there is a representation of Monju, of even
greater size. (Plate XIV.) On another face of rocks are the figures of
the famous fifty-three Buddhas who came so long ago to live and die
among the Diamond Mountains.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXIV
  Great figures of Buddhist Trinity, seated: Pawpchu-sa. Sakya, Monju,
                                 Fugen
                                                               [Page 88]]

In a former lecture we referred to the cave chapel of Sukkul-am. It is
full of beauty. Excavated in the <DW72> near a great ridge summit, it
looks out upon the Eastern Sea. In the old days it was approached by a
fine flight of steps. From its summit a passageway led to the
subterranean chamber. It was bordered on both sides by slabs carved with
figures in high relief. Here are the two guardian demons, the four kings
of the cardinal points, the six generals. Passing between them we reach
the little circular chapel, about thirty feet across, subterraneously
situated in the hillside. Its low, vaulted roof is an ingenious and
wonderful construction. The surrounding walls are filled with slabs
bearing fine carvings. Here are three splendid figures of Bodhisattvas,
with boat-shaped haloes, three other figures of Bodhisattvas with round
haloes, and distributed between them the ten first disciples of the
Great Teacher. These ten figures present marvellous detail of feature;
not only personal differences, but race differences are sharply brought
out; more than that the figures were originally , and no doubt,
different races are indicated by the different tints. There is no
question that individuals of different races were among the first
disciples of the Buddha. And in the center of all this beauty, this
flowering of ancient art, sits the stone Buddha, on his lotus pedestal.
It is a monolith, cut from a block of stone about eleven feet in height.
It is beautiful in pose, in feature, and in expression. For almost
fifteen hundred years it has sat there calmly looking out upon the
Eastern Sea. Every morning it is greeted by the rising sun.

Besides figures cut in high relief, the old artists made full sculptures
in the round. Such, of course, was the Buddha figure, just described.
Such are the great miriok, sculptured from natural rock pinnacles, like
the one at Eunjin. You may remember the picture of a giant lotus
pedestal, lying in the courtyard of Kumsan-sa (Plates V, VI), which we
showed you in the first lecture; it is at least a thousand years of age.
In the same courtyard, you remember that we saw a little tower or pagoda
of stone, thirteen stories high, but in reality no taller than a man. At
Pawpchu-sa there is that splendid bowl of stone, more than twelve
hundred years of age, which in its time, no doubt, was filled with pure
water for the cleansing of the hands and mouth of worshippers. Sometimes
we find stone lanterns and occasionally these are supported by animal
figures in caryatid forms. Then there are the _sari_ stones and altars
and turtle-borne monuments.

                        [Illustration: PLATE XXV
Great figures of Buddhist Trinity, standing: Kumsan-sa. Amida, Kwannon,
                               Daiseishi
                     (Thirty feet or so in height)
                                                               [Page 89]]

Look at this series of pictures from Hoiam-sa, one of the first temples
we visited in 1917. (Plate XV.) To-day it is a place of no significance,
but it was once a great religious center and has been associated with
three famous men. It chanced the day we visited it that the three monks
who live there were about to celebrate the day sacred to the memory of
these noted teachers; gifts and offerings and all the paraphernalia for
worship were laid out, ready. These three men were Muhak, Chikong and
Nanong. Chikong was a native of India, who spent his last days in Korea.
Nanong was chaplain and preceptor of King Kong-Min-Oang, the last king
of the Koryu dynasty. Muhak was the chaplain and preceptor of Yi-tajo,
founder of the Yi Dynasty. Behind the monastery building there rises a
remarkable narrow-backed and sloping ridge. It bears a line of monuments
reared to the memory of these three men. The stones commemorating
Chikong and Nanong were erected by Muhak in the year 1393; the stones in
memory of him were reared in 1401. The monument to each of these
worthies consists of four stone objects—a lantern, an altar, a _sari_
stone—which I suppose contains the jewel that was left after the burning
of the man in whose honor it was reared—and a stone turtle figure from
whose back rises a slab bearing a long inscription. These turtle-stones
with inscribed slabs are found everywhere in Korea; the turtle is the
symbol of longevity and its use in this connection breathes the wish
that the memory of the thing recorded may endure ten thousand years.
These monuments are typical and good examples of their class. The
carving on Muhak’s _sari_ stone is particularly beautiful.

In connection with stone work we must remind you again of the towers or
pagodas of which you have seen repeated illustrations. Here we show but
one to refresh your memory. (Plate XVI.) Such towers or pagodas rise in
stories, numbering from three to thirteen, but always odd—three, five,
seven, thirteen. There are hundreds of them scattered over the peninsula
and at all the old monasteries you will find them. Some of those in the
monasteries of the Diamond Mountains claim to be fifteen hundred years
of age or more. They are symbolical, variously; they may denote the life
of the individual, pointing heavenward, developing from one stage of
perfection to another; they may mean the body of the faithful, or the
church; the simple three-story towers symbolize earth, sky and heaven.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXVI
                Figures—a Trio of Trinities: Sukwang-sa
     (The figures are said to be Kwannon, Amida, Daiseishi, Monju,
             Vairoshana, Fugen, Jihi, Sakyamuni, Teikakara)
                                                               [Page 89]]

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.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXVII
                Figure and Painting of Kwannon: Pomo-sa
                                                               [Page 89]]

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.

                      [Illustration: PLATE XXVIII
                Hall of the Ten Kings of Hell: Yongju-sa
 (Notice combination of figures and painting; the god of hell with two
helpers, five kings with small servants, two other officers, and one of
                      the two Brahmanic guardians)
                                                               [Page 91]]

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 <DW52> 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.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXIX
                 Hall of Five Hundred Rakan: Sukwang-sa
                                                               [Page 90]]

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.)

                        [Illustration: PLATE XXX
Extraordinary combinations of Rakan figures: Hall of Five Hundred Rakan:
                              Songkwang-sa
                                                               [Page 90]]

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.”

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXXI
                Painting of the Seven Stars: Sukwang-sa
                                                               [Page 92]]

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.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXXII
                       Group Painting: Sukwang-sa
                                                               [Page 95]]

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.

                      [Illustration: PLATE XXXIII
       One of the Eight Scenes in the Life of Buddha: Sakya gains
                         Enlightenment: Pomo-sa
                                                               [Page 91]]

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.

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXXIV
The God of the Mountain: Fuko-an, branch of Sinkei-sa, Diamond Mountains
                                                               [Page 93]]

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.)

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXXV
     Portrait of one of the chiefs of the Sixteen Rakan: Chikchi-sa
                                                               [Page 95]]

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.)

                       [Illustration: PLATE XXXVI
                       Great painting, Pawpchu-sa
                                                               [Page 96]]

                      [Illustration: PLATE XXXVII
   Great painting displayed at Buddha’s Birthday Ceremony: Tongdo-sa
                                                               [Page 96]]

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.)

Occasionally—perhaps more commonly than we know—the monasteries possess
an enormous rolled painting of a single Buddha. We have seen one at
Pawpchu-sa and another at Tongdo-sa. At Pawpchu-sa they brought it out
from the great temple and unrolled it for us, in the open, that we might
see its size. At Tongdo-sa it was already elevated for the occasion of
the celebration of Buddha’s birthday. It towered above the highest
building, and was worshipped by the crowding thousands. (Plates XXXVI,
XXXVII.)

In this brief study of Korean Buddhism we have but sketched a subject
which presents a vast material, which as yet is almost unknown and
practically untouched by students.




                              BIBLIOGRAPHY


  Gale. _The Pagoda of Seoul._ Transactions of the Korea Branch of the
  Royal Asiatic Society. Vol. VI, Pt. II, pp. 1-22. Seoul: 1915.

  Gordon. _Some Recent Discoveries in Korean Temples and their
  Relationship to Early Eastern Christianity._ Trans. K. B. R. A. S.
  Vol. V, Pt. II, PP. 1-39. Seoul: 1914.

  Gordon. _Symbols of “the Way”—Far East and West._ Tokyo: 1916. Maruzen
  & Co.

  Hulbert. _History of Korea._ Seoul: 1905. 2 vols. Methodist Publishing
  House.

  Jones. _Colossal Buddha at Eunjin._ Trans. K. B. R. A. S. Vol. I, pp.
  51-70. Seoul: 1901.

  Richard. _A Mission to Heaven . . . by Ch’iu Ch’ang Ch’un._ Shanghai:
  1913. The Christian Literature Society’s Depot.

  Trollope. _Introduction to the Study of Buddhism in Corea._ Trans. K.
  B. R. A. S. Vol. VIII, pp. 1-41. Seoul: 1917.




                                 NOTES


[1]_Aryavarman_, a man of Sinlo (_Corea_), left Chang’an A.D. 638. He
    set out with a view to recover the true teaching and to adore the
    sacred relics. He dwelt in the Nalanda Temple, copying out many
    Sutras. He had left the eastern borders of Corea and now bathed in
    the Dragon pool of Nalanda. Here he died, aged seventy odd years.

    _Hwui-nieh_, a Corean, set out for India 638 A.D., arrived at the
    Nalanda Temple and there studied the sacred books and reverenced the
    holy traces. I-tsing found some writing he had left in the temple,
    where also he had left his Sanskrit MSS. The priests said he died
    the same year, about sixty years of age.

    _Hiuen Ta’i_, a doctor of the law, a Corean, called by the Sanskrit
    name of Sarvajñanadeva. In the year _Yung-hwei_ (650 A.D.) he went
    by the Tibetan road through Nepal to Mid-India; he there worshipped
    the relics at the Bodhi Tree. Afterwards going to the Tukhara
    country, he met Taou-hi, with whom he returned to the Tahsio Temple
    (Mahabodhi). Afterwards he returned to China, and was not heard of
    again.

    _Hiuen-hau_, a doctor of the law, a Corean, went with Hiuen-chiu, in
    the middle of the _Chengkwan_ period, to India, and reaching the
    Tahsio Temple, he died there.

    Two priests of Corea, names unknown, started from Chang’an by the
    southern sea-route and came to Sribhoja. They died in the country of
    _Po-lu-sse_, to the westward (the western portion of Sumatra).

    _Hwui Lun_, a Corean, otherwise called Prajñavarma, came by sea from
    his own country to _Fuchau_, and proceeded thence to Chang’an.
    Following after the priest _Hiuen-chiu_, he reached the West, and
    during ten years dwelt in the Amravat country and in the Sin-ché
    Temple (north of the Ganges). Passing through the eastern frontiers,
    and thence proceeding northward he came to the Tu-ho-lo (_Tukhâra_)
    Temple. Beal: _Life of Hiouen-Tsiang_, pp. xxix-xxx, xxxvi.

[2]Jones in his admirable discussion of the Eunjin miriok makes an
    interesting suggestion regarding its location:

      But the special interest these facts have for us in connection
      with the great Buddha lies in the fact that it may have been here
      that Buddhism itself first entered Pakche. Buddhism was a foreign
      importation, being sent to the peninsular kingdoms by the Eastern
      Tsin dynasty of China (A.D. 317-19) and effecting an entrance
      almost simultaneously at two points—in the north into Koguryu and
      in the south into Pakche. Of this latter event the native
      historians tell us:—“In the year A.D. 384 the barbarian monk
      Maranant’a came from Tsin. King Chip-yu accorded him a most
      courteous and ceremonious reception and Buddhism was established
      as the national religion.” We do not know at what point the
      monk-missionary landed, but it is not so unlikely that he may have
      come to this well-known port, and that one day among the ships
      making up that inextricable mass of masts and rudders at Si-jin
      there may have come the imperial junk of Tsin bearing “the
      barbarian monk Maranant’a” with his images, incense, bells, books
      and vestments to plant in Korea that cult which was to dominate
      the people for a thousand years, thus landing close to the place
      where in later years the greatest monument that Buddhism possesses
      was to stand. And two hundred years later (A.D. 552) there
      probably embarked from this port that band of Pakche priests sent
      by their king to carry to the mikado of Japan the golden images of
      Buddha and the triad of precious ones, the sutras and sacred
      books, and to give the faith of Buddhism to the Sun-rise Empire.
      And it is said that these relics exist to this day and are
      preserved in the city of Nagano in Japan. Colossal Buddha: p. 62.

[3]It occurs in the inscription regarding the Seoul pagoda and is
    particularly interesting as a contemporary description of a temple
    of remarkable splendor.

      Reckoning up the number of pillars supporting the building they
      were found to exceed 300. The Hall of the Buddha stood up high in
      the center, and the inscription board above was written _Taikwang
      myung jun_, “Great light glorious palace.” To the left was the
      _Sun Tang_ or study hall, while to the right was the _Oon-chip_ or
      assembly hall. The gate was marked _Chak-kwang Moon_, Hidden Light
      and the outer gate was called _Panya_ or Likeness gate. Beyond
      this again was the _Hai-tal Moon_. There was a bell-pavilion also
      which was called the _Pup-noi-kak_, Kiosk of Buddha’s Thunder. The
      kitchen was named _Hyang-juk_, Kitchen House. There was a pond on
      the east side, where lotus flowers were planted; and on the west
      was a garden-park where flowers and trees grew. Behind the
      _Cheung-jun_ palace the sacred books were in keeping, and this
      house was called _Hai-Jang Chun_ or Sea Covering Hall. Also a
      pagoda was built of thirteen stories called _sul-to-pa_, Buddhist
      pagoda. Within it were placed the accumulated sari and the newly
      translated Wun-gak sutra. The palaces, halls, studies,
      guest-rooms, stores, kitchens, outhouses, had each their
      particular place. The whole was magnificent and well constructed,
      and the ornaments were lavish, imposing, beautiful, all in keeping
      and fair to see. Its equal was nowhere to be found. Also the
      drums, gongs, etc., necessary for the service, and other useful
      implements were abundantly provided for. Gale: _Pagoda_, p. 10.

[4]Gale finds that the history of the erection of the Seoul pagoda was
    originally inscribed upon the turtle-borne slab that accompanies it.
    Of the pagoda itself, he says:

      1. The Pagoda was therefore built in 1464-1466 A.D.

      2. The builder was King Se-jo, who reigned from 1456-1468 and all
      the workmen were Koreans.

      3. The form of it was modelled after the Pagoda in Pung Tuk
      County, which had already been standing nearly a hundred years,
      and had been built by Chinese workmen. There is no evidence that
      this pagoda had ever been brought from Peking though it finds its
      final resting place now in Tokyo.

      4. It was built to commemorate the excellence of the Wungak Sutra
      from which it takes its name.

      5. It is by far the most interesting Buddhist monument in Korea.
      p. 22.

[5]The list of the thirty head-temples follows:

      Yongju-sa
      Pongeum-sa
      Chǔntung-sa
      Pongsǔm-sa
      Makok-sa
      Pawpchu-sa
      Songkwang-sa
      Sǔnam-sa
      Těhung-sa
      Pǎkyang-sa
      Uipong-sa
      Posawk-sa
      Tongdo-sa
      Pomo-sa
      Hǎin-sa
      Tonghwa-sa
      Chuim-sa
      Unhǎ-sa
      Koun-sa
      Kumyong-sa
      Peyak-sa
      Sawngpul-sa
      Yungmyung-sa
      Pawphung-sa
      Pohyun-sa
      Kǔnpong-sa
      Yuchom-sa
      Ualchung-sa
      Sawkwang-sa
      Kuichu-sa

[6]The magazine conducted by Yi Nung Hwa has had several breaks in
    publication and after each the name has been changed. As here given
    the names are English translations of the original:

      _Monthly Magazine of Chosen Buddhism._ Nineteen issues, from
      January 25, 1911 to August 25, 1913.

      _Buddhist Magazine of the Eastern Sea._ Eight issues from November
      20, 1913 to June 20, 1914.

      _Monthly Magazine of the Association of Rising Buddhism._ Nine
      issues from March 15, 1915 to December 15, 1915.

      _Kingdom of Chosen Buddhism._ Three issues from April 5, 1916 to
      June 5, 1916.

      _General Magazine of Chosen Buddhism_, from March 20, 1917. Three
      numbers had appeared when I received this note in May 1917.

[7]The texts most commonly read in Korean monasteries are the
    _Hokkekyo_, _Kegon_, _Kishinlon_, _Fumonbon_ and _Amidakyo_,
    according to Madame Gordon. These are Japanese pronunciation.

[8]The Japanese names of the four guardians are:

      Bishamon: east; blue; tower.
      Komoku: south; red; jewel.
      Jikoku: west; green; lute.
      Zocho: north; flesh; sword.

[9]Three Buddhas have preceded Sakyamuni in the present _kalpa_ and one
    is still to come before the _kalpa_ ends. The entire list is:

      _Krakuchanda_ (Pali, _Kakusanda_), “who solves doubt.”
      _Kanakamuni_ (P. _Konagamana_) “body radiant as gold.”
      _Kasyapa_ (P. _Kassapa_) “swallower of light.”
      _Sakyamuni._
      _Maitreya._ Legge: Fa-hien, p. 51.

[10]The eight scenes in the Life of Buddha are:

      (_a_) Incarnation.
      (_b_) Birth.
      (_c_) Encounter with age, sickness, death.
      (_d_) Escape—with aid of the four heavenly kings.
      (_e_) Asceticism.
      (_f_) Enlightenment.
      (_g_) Preaching—“turning the wheel.”
      (_h_) Nirvana.




                             Transcriber’s Notes


--Retained the copyright notice from the printed edition (although this
  book is in the public domain.)

--Silently corrected a few palpable typos.

--In the text versions only, delimited italicized text in _underscores_.







End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Korean Buddhism, by Frederick Starr

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