CXV.

ARRIVAL OF BUDDHIST PRIESTS.

Two Buddhist priests having arrived from the West,[565] one went to the Wu-t‘ai hill, while the other hung up his staff[566] at T‘ai-shan. Their clothes, complexions, language, and features, were very different from those of our country. They further said they had crossed the Fiery Mountains, from the peaks of which smoke was always issuing as from the chimney of a furnace; that they could only travel after rain, and that excessive caution was necessary to avoid displacing any stone and thus giving a vent to the flames. They also stated that they had passed through the River of Sand, in the middle of which was a crystal hill with perpendicular sides and perfectly transparent; and that there was a defile just broad enough to admit a single cart, its entrance guarded by two dragons with crossed horns. Those who wished to pass prostrated themselves before these dragons, and on receiving permission to enter, the horns opened and let them through. The dragons were of a white colour, and their scales and bristles seemed to be of crystal. Eighteen winters and summers these priests had been on the road; and of twelve who started from the west together, only two reached China.[567] These two said that in their country four of our mountains are held in great esteem, namely, T‘ai, Hua, Wu-t‘ai, and Lo-chia. The people there also think that China[568] is paved with yellow gold, that Kuan-yin and Wên-shu[569] are still alive, and that they have only come here to be sure of their Buddhahood and of immortal life. Hearing these words it struck me that this was precisely what our own people say and think about the West; and that if travellers from each country could only meet half way and tell each other the true state of affairs, there would be some hearty laughter on both sides, and a saving of much unnecessary trouble.

FOOTNOTES:

[565] That is, missionaries from India.

[566] See No. LVI., note 320.

[567] Much of the above recalls Fa Hsien’s narrative of his celebrated journey from China to India in the early years of the fifth century of our era, with which our author was evidently well acquainted. That courageous traveller complained that of those who had set out with him some had stopped on the way and others had died, leaving him only his own shadow as a companion.

[568] This may almost be said to have been the belief of the Arabs at the date of the composition of “The Arabian Nights.”

[569] For Kuan-yin, see No. XXXIII., note 208. Wên-shu, or Manjusiri, is the God of Wisdom, and is generally represented as riding on a lion, in attendance, together with P‘u-hsien, the God of Action, who rides an elephant, upon Shâkyamuni Buddha.