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 slope 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 colored, 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 colored faces, each having the color proper to the
district over which he has control. (Plate XXa, b.) Each carries a
characteristic object, thus one bears a pagoda or tower on his hand,
another carries a blazing jewel, the third varies what he carries, but
frequently he plays upon a lute, the fourth one has a sword; these four
great Brahman deities are found to-day in Korea at every Buddhist
monastery, at the gate commonly called “the gate of the four kings”;
there they watch, guarding the monastery against all harm. These are
almost always figures of wood, but rarely one may find paintings on the
wooden walls instead of the figures. While these guardian kings are
always represented in heroic size the series at Pawpchu-sa are of
extraordinary dimensions, probably the largest in Korea. (Plate XXI.)
Yama, too, was taken over from the older faith. The god of hell, he was
assisted by ten helpers; each of these served as his representative in a
separate hell, or division of that place of torment. Yama judges souls
and inflicts penalties, assigns duties, and directs all the details of
his realm. In most Korean monasteries there will be a hall of the ten
kings in which we see figures of Yama with his assistants.
[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
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[Illustration: PLATE XXXVII
Great painting displayed at Buddha’s Birthday Ceremony: Tongdo-sa
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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.