Having given a description of the principal temples, &c., I shall now state some particulars relative to the introduction of the Budhism religion into China, and show what are the principles professed by its disciples, at the present day.

In the sixty-fifth year of the Christian era, the emperor Ming-te invited the first priests; they were probably natives of Ceylon.—The invitation was given in consequence of dreams, which informed him that the “Holy One” was in the West.

The ancient Chinese worshippers retained some knowledge of a Supreme Being, yet the worship they paid to the visible heavens, the earth, rivers, bulls, and above all, to dragons and the gods of lands, was open idolatry. Subsequently, Confucius arose; he inculcated the necessity of reverencing those whom the ancients had worshipped. His wish was to promote the social happiness of his countrymen, independently of the influence which religion exerts over a nation; his great aim was the introduction of decorum and order into all the duties of life; and to the strict observance of external ceremonies, he reduced the whole of religion. His system being found very deficient, Taou-tze, the mystic philosopher, stepped forward to supply the wants of the multitude by his abstruse speculations. According to his system, all nature is filled with demons and genii, who constantly influence the fate of man. He increased the number of idol gods to an enormous amount, and attempted to define with scholastic precision, their nature and offices. His demonology wanted perspicuity and contained too many palpable absurdities to be generally received. Some of the emperors, though declaring themselves believers in Taouism, could never introduce a general acquiescence in doctrines which no one understood. China wanted a creed which every man might understand; and the Budhists supplied the desideratum;—accommodating their doctrines to all existing superstitions, they opened the door to every description of convert, who might retain as many of his old prejudices as he chose: they were not rigorous in enforcing the obligations of morality; to expiate sins, offerings to the idols and priests were sufficient. A temple built in honour of any idol and richly endowed, would suffice to blot out every stain of guilt and serve as a portal to the blessed mansions of Budha. When death approached, they promised to each of their votaries, speedy promotion in the scale of metempsychosis until he should be absorbed in Nirupan or Nirvana—nonentity. With these prospects, the poor deluded victim left the world. To facilitate his release from purgatory, the ghostly hypocrites said mass, and supplied the wants of the hungry departed spirit with rich offerings of food, of which the latter enjoyed only the odour, while the priests devoured the substance. As Confucius had raised the veneration for ancestors into idolatrous worship, these priests were ready to perform their pious offices before the tablets of the dead. Thus they became ingratiated with the credulous multitude, who were too happy to avail themselves of their cheap services. But notwithstanding the accommodating spirit of their creed, the Chinese government has at times disapproved of it. As the sanctity of marriage has been acknowledged in China from time immemorial and almost every person at years of maturity has been obliged to enter into that state, the celibacy of the priesthood of Budha was considered as a very dangerous custom.

Budha regarded contemplation and exemption from worldly cares, as the nearest approach to bliss; his followers, therefore, in imitation of their master, passed and inculcated lives of indolence, and practised begging, as the proper means of maintaining themselves. This mode of livelihood was diametrically opposed to the political institutions of China, where even the emperor does not disdain to plough. It was also in opposition to the actual condition and wants of the people; a system of idleness, in the immense population of the empire, would have been followed by actual starvation, and a consequent serious diminution in the number of inhabitants; for it is by the utmost exertion that they are able to subsist. These serious objections to the foreign creed, furnished its enemies with weapons by which to destroy it. It was proscribed as a dangerous heresy, and a cruel persecution followed; but it had taken too deep root to be easily eradicated. Among some of the emperors too, it found abettors and disciples. Yet it never became a religion of the state, nor were its priests ever able to exercise any permanent influence over the populace. The Chinese are too rational a people to believe, implicitly, all the Budhistic fables, nor can they persuade themselves that the numerous images are gods. When we add to this, their national apathy towards every thing connected with religion, they being entirely engrossed with the things of this life, we can easily account for their disesteem of Budhism. Nor can we wonder that they worship at one time, the divinities they despise at another, for ancient custom bids them follow in the track of their ancestors, without inquiry or doubt, even when they cannot but ridicule its absurdities.

The priests of Budha are a very despised class, and spring chiefly from the lowest and most ignorant of the people. Their morals are notoriously bad, and pinching poverty has made them cringing and servile. They wander abroad in search of some trifling gift, and often encounter a very harsh refusal.

Those temples which are well endowed by their founders, are crowded with priests, so that only a few among the higher orders of them can be rich. Stupidity, with a few exceptions, is their reigning characteristic; neither skill nor learning is to be found among them. Budha seems to have intimated that stupidity brings the votary nearer to the blissful state of apathy, and therefore a knowledge of his institutions is considered as the only requisite to form an accomplished priest. The Budhists have no schools or seminaries, for the instruction of their believers, seldom strive for literary honours, and are even excluded from the list of candidates, so long as they remain priests. Few among them are serious in the practice of their own religion; they are in the most complete sense of the words, sullen and misanthropic, and live a very secluded life. But religious abstraction and deep contemplation, with utter oblivion of existence, appear to be out of vogue. The halls of contemplation are the haunts of every vice. Such effects must follow where the mind is unoccupied, and the hands unemployed in any good work. The nuns are less numerous and more industrious than the priests. It is a general observation that nearly all the temples of Budha are in a dilapidated state; the contributions of devotees not meeting the expenses of repairs. These erections are very numerous; there is scarcely a small village that has not one, and few romantic and beautiful spots can be found free from these seats of idolatry.

The similarity of the rites of this superstition with those of papacy, are striking: every one who visits the monasteries can at once discover the resemblance. That they should count their prayers by means of a rosary, and chant masses both for the living and the dead, live in a state of celibacy and shave their hair, &c., might perhaps be accounted for by a mere coincidence of errors into which men are prone to fall; but their divine adoration of Teenhow, “the queen of heaven,” must be a tenet engrafted upon Budhism from foreign traditions. We are unable to fix the exact period at which this deity was adopted. There is a legend of modern date among the people of Farh-keen, which tells us that she was a virgin of that province, who, in a dream, saw her kindred in danger of being wrecked, and boldly rescued them; but this affords no satisfactory solution; neither is “the queen of heaven,” among the deities which the Siamese Budhists worship, though they possess the whole orthodox code of demons. It is probable that some degenerate Nestorian Christians amalgamated with their faith and ceremonies, the prevailing errors of China, and persuaded the priests of Budha to adopt many of their rites.

Though the Siamese priesthood resembles the papal clergy, it does not exhibit so striking a similarity as the Chinese. Moreover, the Budhists of China have received all the sages which have been canonized by the emperors or by public credulity. Mr. Gutzlaff says he saw, in one instance, a marble bust of Napoleon, which they had placed in a temple, and before which they burned incense; hence it would not be surprising if they had also adopted among their gods so conspicuous an object of worship as the “virgin,” who was adored by so many millions of Christians. The present dynasty seems to have declared itself in favour of the great Da-lai-lama of Thibet. As the Mongols on the northern frontier are much devoted to the rites of Shamanism, and worship its presiding deity, it was perhaps with a view to conciliate the good will and keep in subjection these wild hordes, that the preference was manifested. The religion of these barbarians being a modification of Budhism, we might expect that the Chinese government would equally extend its benevolence to the Budhist of China. Such does not appear to be the fact; they are tolerated but receive no stated support from the government; to some temples the emperors may extend his individual charity, but this is not governmental patronage. If the high offices of the state occasionally favour this sect, they never openly avow it; such a disclosure would derogate from their fame and expose them to the ridicule of their colleagues. In the midst of all these difficulties a numerous priesthood do find subsistence. On certain festivals the temples are crowded to excess, and the exclamation, “O-me-to-fuh” is familiar to the ear of every one who visits them. I have thus given a sketch of Budhism, a religion which strikes at the root of human society, in enjoining celibacy as the nearest approach to perfection, and in commanding its disciples to abandon relatives and friends, without fulfilling their duties as citizens, parents and children. We are bound to concede that this unnatural restraint is the source of vice and crime; at the same time we must in justice admit that Budhism does not sanction shocking rites, or Bacchanalian orgies, like other idolatrous systems in Asia; nor have we to complain of that indecency in its idol exhibitions, which is common to the religion of the Hindoos; the wooden deities are hideous, but never repulsive to the feelings of modesty. The temples are open to all, and serve occasionally for theatres, gambling-houses and taverns. The Chinese Budhists are a temporizing sect; their abstinence from animal food is not very strict. They seldom defend their idols, or appear much annoyed when they are treated with contempt;—their toleration arises from indifference; all religions, with them, are equally safe, but theirs is the best. They have no desire to proselyte, their numbers being already too great, and are far from spiritualizing their idolatrous systems. They talk of hungry demons and of the spiritual presence of the idols in their statues, but this is all. To assert they adore one Supreme Being in their idolatrous representations of his attributes, is to state an opinion that never found a place in their thoughts, or in their canonical works. They are without God in the world, and estranged from the divine life, worshipping the works of their own hands, to the disgrace of human reason.

Having previously alluded to the superstitious rites performed by the Chinese, at the tombs of their ancestors, parents and friends, I here give a more detailed description of this idolatrous custom, together with an account of the gluttonous and drunken feast, which is the finale of what is misnamed a religious observance. The description is translated from an original Chinese composition:—

That this custom did not exist anterior to the age of Confucius is inferred from the words of Mericius, who affirms that in the preceding ages men did not even inter their deceased kindred but threw their dead bodies into ditches, by the roadside. As they had no tombs there could be no sacrifices performed at them. Confucius directed tumuli to be raised, in order to mark the place of interment; this is the first intimation of tombs, given among the Chinese. In raising these tumuli there was probably no other intention than that of erecting a mark to the abodes of the dead. It is also known that children, in that early age, would remain in temporary sheds, for years near the grave of a parent, to “sorrow as those without hope.” But we proceed to exhibit the present state of these ceremonies as being all that is of practical utility, in deciding the question at issue. The Chinese visit the tombs, twice a year, in spring, and in autumn. The first visit is called tsing-ming, “clear bright,” in reference to the fine weather, which is then expected: the second is called tsew-tse, “the autumnal sacrifice.” The rites performed during tsing-ming, are those most generally attended by the Chinese. Their governors teach that the prosperity of individuals and of families depends greatly on the position, dryness, and good repair of their parents’ graves. Therefore, “to sweep” and repair them, to mark their limits, and to see that they are not encroached upon by others, are the objects of visits to the tombs. When there are large clans, which have descended from the same ancestors, living in the same neighbourhood, they repair in great numbers, to the performance of the sacrificial rites. Rich and poor, all assemble. Even beggars repair to the tombs, to kneel down and worship. This usage is known by the phrases saou-fun-moo, “sweeping the tombs,” and paeshan, “worshipping the tumuli.” To omit these observances, is considered a great offence against moral propriety, and a breach of filial duty. The common belief is that good fortune, domestic prosperity, honours and riches, all depend on an impulse given at the tombs of ancestors. Hence, the practice is universal; and when the men are absent from their families, the women go to perform the rites.

On some of these occasions, even where there are two or three thousand members of a clan, some possessing great wealth, and others holding high rank in the state, all, old and young, rich and poor, are summoned to meet at the tsoo-tsung tsze-tang, “the ancestral hall.” Pigs are slaughtered; sheep are slain; and all sorts of offerings and sacrifices are provided in abundance. The processions from the hall to the tombs, on these occasions, are formed in the most grand style, which the official rank of the principal persons will admit—with banners, tablets, gongs, &c., &c., &c. All present, old men and boys, are dressed in the best robes which they can procure; and thus escorting the victims for sacrifice, and carrying wine for oblations, they proceed to the tombs of their ancestors, and arrange the whole in order, preparatory to the grand ceremony. There is a choo tse, “lord of the sacrifice,” appointed to officiate as priest, a master of ceremonies, to give the word of command, and two stewards to aid in the performance of the rites. There is also a reader to recite the prayer; and a band of musicians, drummers, gong-beaters, &c.

After all things are in readiness, the whole party stands still till the “master” gives the word. He first cries with a loud voice: “Let the official persons take their places:” this is immediately done, and the ceremonies proceed.

Master. “Strike up the softer music.” Here the smaller instruments begin to play.

Master. “Kneel.” The priest then kneels in a central place, fronting the grave, and behind him, arranged in order, the aged and the honourable, the children and grandchildren, all kneel down.

Master. “Present the incense.” Here the stewards take three sticks of incense, and present them to the priest. He rises, makes a bow towards the grave, and then plants one of the sticks in an immense vase, in front of the tombstone. The same form is repeated a second and a third time.

Master. “Rise up.” The priest and the party stand up.

Master. “Kneel.” Again the priest and all the people kneel down.

Master. “Knock head.” Here all bending forward, and leaning on their hands, knock their foreheads against the ground.

Master. “Again knock head.” This is forthwith done.

Master. “Knock head a third time.” This is also done. Then he also calls out: Rise up; kneel; knock head;—till the three kneelings, and the nine knockings are completed. All this is done in the same manner as the highest act of homage is paid to the emperor, or of worship, to the supreme powers, heaven and earth. This being ended, the ceremonies proceed.

Master. “Fall prostrate.” This is done by touching the ground with his knees, hands and forehead.

Master. “Read the prayer.” Here the reader approaches the front of the tomb, holding in his hands a piece of white paper, on which is written one of the sacrificial forms of prayer. These forms are generally much the same; differing slightly according to the wish of the composer. The form states the time; the name of the clan which come to worship and offer sacrifice; beseeches the shades to descend and enjoy the sacrifice, to grant protection and prosperity to their descendants, that in all succeeding generations they may wear official caps, may enjoy riches, and honours, and never become extinct, that by the help of the souls in hades, the departed spirits, and the living on earth may be happy, and illustrious throughout myriads of ages. The prayer being finished, the master cries: “Offer up the gold and the precious things.” Here one of the stewards presents gilt papers to the priest, and he bowing towards the grave, lays them down before it.

Master. “Strike up the grand music.” Here gongs, drums, trumpets, &c., are beaten and blown to make a noise as loud as possible.

Master. “Burn the gold and silver, and precious things.” Here all the young men and children burn the gilt papers, fire off crackers, rockets, &c.

Such is the sum of a grand sacrifice at the tombs of ancestors. But to many, the best part of the ceremony is to come, which is the feast of the sacrifice. The roast pigs, rice, fowls, fish, fruits, and liquors, are carried back to the ancestral hall; where according to age and dignity, the whole party sit down to eat, drink and play. The grandees discuss the condition of the hall, and other topics connected with the honour of the clan; the young men carouse, and provoke each other to “drink deep.” Some set out for home with a catty or two of the divine flesh, which had been used in sacrifice; others stay till they wrangle and fight, and night puts an end to the entertainment.

Those who live remote from the tombs, or who have no ancestral hall, eat their sacrifice on the ground at the sepulchres. The poor imitate their superiors, at an humble distance. Although they have no hall, no procession or music, they provide three sorts of victims, a pig, a goose, and a fish; some fruits, and a little distilled liquors—for spirituous liquors are used on all these occasions. After presenting these at the tomb, they kneel, knock head, and orally or mentally pray for the aid of their ancestors’ souls to make the existing and all future generations of descendants, rich and prosperous.

In these rites there is some difference in the wording of the prayer, according as it is presented to remote ancestors or to lately deceased parents or friends; but the general import is the same.

Further to illustrate the modes “in which the Chinese worship Confucius and the deceased,” we subjoin the following extracts, from the Indo-Chinese Gleaner:—

From the Shing-meaou-che, volume first, page second, it appears that there are, in China, more than one thousand, five hundred and sixty temples dedicated to Confucius. At the spring and autumnal sacrifices offered to him, it is calculated in the above-named work, that there are immolated (on the two occasions) annually, six bullocks, twenty-seven thousand pigs, five thousand eight hundred sheep, two thousand eight hundred deer, and twenty-seven thousand rabbits.

Thus, there are annually sacrificed to Confucius, in China, sixty-two thousand, six hundred and six victims; it is added, there are offered at the same time, twenty-seven thousand, six hundred pieces of silk. What becomes of these does not appear.

It has justly been remarked that a nation’s civilization may be estimated by the rank which females hold in society. If the civilization of China be judged of by this test, she is far from occupying that first place which she so strongly claims. Females have always been regarded with contempt by the Chinese. Their ancient sages seem to have considered them scarcely worthy of their attention. The sum of the duties they require of them is, to submit to the will of their masters. The lady, say they, who is to be betrothed to a husband, ought to follow blindly the wishes of her parents, yielding implicit obedience to their will. From the moment when she is joined in wedlock, she ceases to exist; her whole being is absorbed in that of her lord; she ought to know nothing but his will, and to deny herself in order to please him. Pan-hwny-pan, who is much admired as an historian, composed a book of instructions for her own sex, in which she treats of their proper station in society, the deportment they should exhibit, and the duties they ought to perform. She teaches them that they “hold the lowest rank among mankind, and that employments the least honourable, ought to be, and in fact are, their lot.” She inculcates entire submission to their husbands, and tells them in very plain terms that they ought to become abject slaves, in order to become good wives. We cannot expect that these doctrines, inculcated as they are, by a lady, who ought to advocate the cause of her sex, and by one held in so high repute as is Pan-hwny-pan, will be overlooked by the “lords of creation;” especially as they accord so perfectly with their domineering disposition, in China.

Confucius, the prince of letters, divorced his wife without assigning any cause for so doing; and his followers have invariably adopted similar arbitrary measures in their treatment of females. The price which is paid to the parents of the bride, constitutes her at once a saleable commodity, and causes her to be regarded as differing little from a mere slave. In the choice of a partner for life, she is entirely passive, is carried to the house of the bridegroom, and there disposed of, for life, by her parents.

The birth of a female is a matter of grief in China. The father and mother, who had already hoped in the unborn babe to embrace a son, feel disappointed at the sight of a daughter. Many vows and offerings are made before their idols in order to propitiate their favour, and secure the birth of a son. The mercy of the compassionate Kuan-yin, especially, is implored to obtain this precious gift; but after they have spent large sums of money in this pious work, the inexorable goddess fills the house with mourning at the birth of a daughter. “Anciently,” says Pan-hwny-pan, “the female infant was thrown upon some old rags, by the side of its mother’s bed, and for three days was scarcely spoken or thought of. At the end of that time it was carried to a temple by a father, accompanied by attendants with bricks and tiles in their hands. The bricks and tiles,” says Pan-hwny-pan, in her comment on these facts, “signify the contempt and suffering which are to be her companions and her portion—bricks are of no use except to form enclosures and to be trodden under foot; tiles are useless except when they are exposed to the injuries of the air.” The Sheking, one of the venerated books, says,

This last assertion is thus explained; “if she does ill she is not a woman—and if she does well she is not a woman; a slavish submission is her duty and her highest praise.” At the present day, as well as anciently, the female infant is not unfrequently an object of disgust to its parents, and of contempt to all the inmates of the family. As she grows up, her feet are so confined and cramped that they can never exceed the size of infancy. This process entirely incapacitates her from walking with ease or safety. Small feet, that badge of bondage which deprives the Chinese females of the power of locomotion, confines them to the inner apartments, except when poverty forces them to earn their livelihood abroad by labour, which is rendered exceedingly difficult and painful if accompanied by walking. Females of the higher class seldom leave the house, except in sedan-chairs. Their lives are but an honourable captivity. They have few or no real enjoyments—are exceedingly ignorant—very few of them being able to read. They live and die little more than ciphers in human society. Pale and emaciated, they spend the greatest part of their lives in embellishing their persons; while females of the poorer classes, whose feet are necessarily permitted to grow to the size which the God of nature designed, perform all the drudgery of husbandry and other kinds of work. These last are in general very industrious, and prove to be helpmates to their husbands. Being remarkable for their good, sound understanding, they manage their families with a care and prudence, and so far as industry and economy are concerned, they are exemplary mothers. Nothwithstanding the degradation in which they are held, they are generally far superior in intellect to the common cast of Asiatic women—are very ingenious in their needlework, &c. To be a good mother, in the estimation of this class of the Chinese, a woman must be a weaver. It is to be regretted, that they have very little regard for the cleanliness either of their persons or houses; their children crawl in the dirt, and the few articles of furniture in their dwellings are covered with filth.

Infanticide of females is not unknown among the Chinese. They are far from regarding this crime with the horror it deserves. “It is only a female,” is the answer generally given when they are reproved for it.

The account of the Charitable Institutions of Canton is brief. They are few in number, of small extent, and of recent origin:—

First: Yuh-ying-tang, or the “foundling hospital.” This institution was founded in 1698, and it was rebuilt and considerably enlarged in 1732. It stands without the walls of the city, on the east—has accommodations for two or three hundred children, and is maintained at an annual expense of two thousand, five hundred and twenty-two taels.

Second: Yang-tse-yuen.—This is a retreat for poor, aged and infirm, or blind people, who have no friends to support them. It stands near the foundling hospital, and like it, enjoys imperial patronage, receiving annually, five thousand, one hundred taels. Both this sum, and that for yuh-ying-tang, are received in part, or wholly, from duties, paid by those foreign ships which bring rice to Canton. Every such ship must pay the sum of six hundred and twenty taels, which, by imperial order, is appropriated to these two hospitals. The number of “rice-ships,” last year, was twenty-eight, yielding the sum of seventeen thousand, three hundred and sixty taels. The English, American, Dutch, Spanish, and Portuguese, are the only foreign vessels that bring rice to Canton.

Third: Ma-fung-yuen, or the “hospital for lepers.” This is also on the east side of the city; the number of patients in it, is three hundred and forty-one, who are supported at an expense of three hundred taels per annum! The condition of the three hospitals, if such they may be called, is wretched in the extreme. The foundlings are often those children which have been exposed; and who, when grown up, are often sold, and not unfrequently, for the worst of purposes. Such is a specimen of the benevolent institutions of the celestial empire!

The government, in times of calamity and scarcity, grant small gratuities to the distressed, but the amount is so trifling, the difficulty of obtaining it so great, that it is not worth the time lost in seeking for it. During the month of August, 1833, owing to heavy gales, accompanied with much rain, the rivers overflowed their banks, and these united calamities destroyed a vast number of the humble dwellings of the poor. The government, knowing the great distress of many thousands, sent surveyors to take a list of the sufferers. About five months afterward, the two magistrates who divide the city of Canton between them, gave public notice, that the sums subscribed by the public for their relief, would be paid out in the following proportions, viz.: “To the poor, who were unable to rebuild their houses—two mace, five candareens,” (about forty cents,) and if they were altogether destitute, two months’ food in addition, viz., for every “big mouth,” two mace and seven candareens: to every “little mouth,” (child’s,) one half of that sum. The aged and feeble who are unable to reach the distributing officer without several days’ hard struggle, are frequently obliged to give up the scanty pittance, and depend upon the cold charities of the world, or otherwise find their grave on the roadside in a loathsome ditch.