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They were all dressed in rags of blue material, blue being always the preponderant color in every assemblage of the poor, whether in China or Japan, on account of the cheapness of the dye. On reaching the summit, we found a group of temples and tombs all thronged with the devout, keeping holiday. Over all, towering even above the dark pines, rose the tall, five-storied pagoda of dark red carved wood, with heavy, overhanging roofs, whence dangle musical bells which tinkle with every breath of air.
Near the principal temple we found a great array of priests in many-colored robes and stoles, some primrose, some lilac, some straw-color, some sky-blue, and some purple, denoting their various grades and colleges. They were waiting for the high priest, who shortly appeared, followed by two black-robed priests. Over his head his attendants held the large scarlet umbrella, similar to that of a Romish cardinal, which occupies so important a place in all Buddhist ceremonies. All the clergy now formed in procession and followed the high priest to the temple, where a grand special service was held in commemoration of Nicheren, the founder of the sect. The high altar was decked with offerings to him, including not only pillars and pyramids of pink and white rice-cakes, resting on pedestals of sweet-potatoes, but also very handsome new brass lamps. Solemn litanies were chanted and hymns of praise were sung.
Then we passed on to the tomb of the saint-a simple stone monument, beneath the shadow of the pines, and here many worshipers knelt in devout adoration; but a far larger number were assembled around the dagoba, or relic-shrine (Okotzudo), within which, in a smaller shrine of brass, exactly similar in form to the great stone building itself, are stored the ashes of the saint and one of his sacred teeth. This last scene was very picturesque, and we sat for half an hour on a tomb, watching the groups of fresh worshipers continually arriving.
Returning by the great temple, curiosity led me to explore the minor buildings, which seemed to offer no attraction to the people. One of these seemed as if it must have been built to contain one of the great prayercylinders; and here, sure enough, I found one-a large, handsome wheel, similar in general form to that at Asakusa-that is to say, a huge barrel standing upright and turning on a pivot, by means of long spokes, projecting as from the tire of a wheel. But whereas the cylinder at Asakusa is gor
geous with scarlet and gold and manycolored lacquer, and contains the sacred books in the form of upright scrolls, this at Ikegami is of plain, uncolored wood, very handsome in its simplicity, and divided into a multitude of small drawers, in which are stored the Buddhist scriptures, in the form of limp, stitched books.
This was the third of these strange objects which I had discovered. A fourth soon suggested itself while I was reading a translation of an old native account of the solemn ceremonies formerly enacted at Nikko, the finest group of tombs and temples in Japan, where art has exhausted itself in devising beauty of detail to enhance that of the most lovely natural scenery.
Once on the scent of these libraries for facilitating vain repetitions, the scripturewheel was the first object of my search on reaching the beautiful mountain, where, in the deep shade of dark Cryptomeria forest, nestle shrines and temples almost without number, varying only in the beauty of their detail and of the exquisite woodcarving with which even the outer courts are adorned. No description can give the slightest idea of the marvelous panels representing every variety of bird and flower, carved not merely in relief, but, like transparent lace-work, so as to be equally perfect seen from either side. Within one of the chapels are immense pictures done in mosaic of different-colored woods-five representing groups of eagles and five of birds of paradise.
We climbed a succession of long flights of steep stone stairs, and, passing by a tall red pagoda with the usual series of dark roofs, and beneath the great torii (the quaint gate-way which marks every Shinto temple, and which Shinto rulers have erected near many of the Buddhist shrines now impressed into the service of the Government religion), we found ourselves in a large open court, surrounded by many buildings for sacred uses,-one of which precisely resembled those in which I had already found the scripture-wheels. Peering in through the gilded fretwork which acted the part of windows, I could faintly discern a massive piece, resplendent in scarlet and gold lacquer. Being now convinced that I had solved the mystery of those many thousand repetitions of the sacred canon, I asked to have the door opened, and after some delay the priest was found who had charge of the key; he soon came, and cour teously did the honors of the wheel, though
without a particle of reverence for it. It resembled that at Asakusa, being, like it, a gorgeous piece of lacquer-work in richest colors, resting on a stone pedestal of lotusleaves, and containing the holy books in the form of upright scrolls.
In the center of the court is another development of the wheel-namely, a very large bronze candlestick inclosed in a great bronze lantern, which revolves on its own axis. I noticed many persons turn this, with some difficulty, as it is very heavy, but with no apparent reverence, though they invariably made the turn sunwise. Evidently this phase of superstition has lost its hold on the people, and the priests make no effort to retain a form which they, too, have discovered to be but a hollow sham. I noticed the wheel in its simplest form as the symbolic decoration on the bronze gate-ways leading to the magnificent tomb of one of the Shoguns.
The next place at which I found a scripture-wheel was Fuji Sawa, near the sacred isle of Enoshima. Here there is a large temple, in excellent repair and frequented by crowds of worshipers. The great wheel, as usual, occupies a separate building, and is utterly neglected. I spent several days at this place, living in a charming little tea-house opposite the temple, and often watching the devout passing in and out; but I doubt if any entered the wheel-temple, except such as came to have a quiet look at me while I was sketching it, and who, of course, pretended to have come in on purpose to "turn the wheel of the law."
My next expedition was to Kyôto, the ancient capital of the Mikados-a city crowded with fine old temples. The very first of these which I entered was one called Choin, to which we were attracted by the beautiful tone of its great bell. It was the hour of service, and a multitude of priests were chanting "Namu amida Butzu" (which means either Glory be to Buddha, or Save us, O Buddha), the oft-reiterated prayer which everywhere meets the ear. They accompanied the words by striking small gongs with little hammers, and producing a deafening noise. Then the great solemn bell was struck repeatedly, each time followed by an invocation like a roar, after which the service proceeded more peacefully. We passed on to examine the other buildings, and in the very next we entered was a wheel as large as that at Nikko, and of brightly colored lacquer, but divided into innumerable small drawers, ticketed, not with the
names of the Buddhist scriptures, but with such words as "water," "fortune," "fire." This wheel does not rest on the usual stone lotus-blossom, but on a broad base, the lower part of which is decorated with the images of divers gods.
We then passed on to the Honguangi, two huge Buddhist temples in another part of the city. Here I found another large scripture-wheel, similar to that at Choin.
A few days later, I was on the shores of beautiful Lake Biwa, which lies embosomed in mountains, in whose green, richly wooded valleys, as well as on many rocky ridges, cluster temples great and small. We halted at Midera, where some very old Shinto nuns, dressed entirely in white, came and gazed curiously at me, as I doubtless did at them. In the temple here I found a very large octagon wheel, with fifty-one small drawers in each of the eight sides. It was the first I had seen of this form.
At Ishiyamadera ("the stone-mountain temple"), a most picturesque group of temples nearer the lake, I noticed small wheels, like miniature capstans, inserted into the wooden pillars in the temple itself. I had noticed similar wheels in the gate-ways of other temples, as at the Temple of the Moon on the summit of a mountain at Kobe, and also at Tenoji, in Osaka, where they bear an inscription which I was told was in Sanskrit character.* Miss Bird relates that she observed sixteen of these wheels in the gateway leading into the cemetery at Hakodate, each inscribed with the name of some god, and the people who entered the cemetery turned all the wheels. My companion asked the priest at Ishiyamadera why they did so, and he replied that only weak and delicate persons did so, who had not strength to pull the bell which hangs over the entrance, the invariable preliminary of prayer, -and took this easier method of calling the attention of the deity they wished to invoke. Probably in this matter, as in many other details of religious ceremonial, our informant was equally ignorant and careless concerning any deeper meaning which the action may in former times have conveyed.
Passing the gate-way with the little wheels at Tenoji, in Osaka, we came to a very fine five-storied pagoda, the roofs of which are
*They are fastened to the upright spoke by the tire, are from one to two feet in diameter, are gen
erally of metal, and have three spokes. On each
spoke are several loose rings of metal, which jingle as they revolve, and so attract the attention of the gods to the number of rotations made in their honor.
supported by a multitude of dragon's-heads. | lieve no one else had hitherto noticed, that
Just beyond it is a large scripture-wheel, standing on a broad base, instead of the usual lotus throne. Here, as, I think, in every other case, an image of a Chinese saint sits near the wheel, with two attendants standing by him. At several temples here I observed many persons practicing the old deisul, and learned that it is accounted an act of merit to walk a hundred times sunwise around certain sacred inclosures. Each person so engaged carried in his hand a bunch of one hundred short pieces of string, which he told off one by one, and so kept count of the number of his meritorious turns. Strange to say, however, even among these people, who were evidently doing this tedious work as a religious action, the usual carelessness was evident as to the direction in which they moved, and I saw many, who could not be suspected of malevolent intentions to their neighbors, making the accursed turn widdershins, and none of the priests interfered to correct an error which to their brethren of Thibet and elsewhere would be abhorrent.
I saw large scripture-wheels at several other temples in Osaka. The beautiful Hongangi temples, the eastern and the western, possess each one, though, as in other places, they have fallen into disuse.
In my wanderings in southern China I found no trace of it, but at Pekin, in several dusty, neglected corners, I again noticed the old wheels. The most important instance is at the great Lama temple, which is the home of one thousand three hundred monks, having a living Buddha at their head. They are intensely jealous of foreigners, and so of fensive and insolent that many visitors fail to gain admittance, even by the help of liberal bribery. I owed the privilege of admission to the great influence and strong determination of the gentleman who escorted me, and who, after much difficulty, so pacified the rude monks that they allowed us to inspect all their temples and chapels, and even pointed out some objects of interest, including a stair by which we might ascend to a gallery on a level with the head of the huge bronzed image of Buddha. I had the pleasure of discovering for myself what I be
from this gallery there is access to two circular buildings, one on either side, each containing large rotating cylinders, which apparently were neither prayer-wheels nor sacred libraries, but divided into a multitude of niches, each containing an image. Probably one turn of these wheels offered adoration to the whole Chinese pantheon.
A few days later, while exploring the ruins of the emperor's summer palace, I came on a cluster of small temples perched among bowlders of gray rock, and overlooking the lovely lake with its marble bridges. The temples, though sadly mutilated, still bear traces of their former beauty, in the days when they were probably reserved for the private devotions of the imperial family. Many colored china tiles lie broken on every side, but the roofs of brilliant green porcelain still gleam in the sunlight. Of what has apparently been the chief temple, nothing remains save a vast mound of bright-colored tiles, heaped in broken fragments on a great platform, which is approached by zigzag stairs. Near this, a small, very beautiful pagoda of porcelain stands within a temple, on either side of which are circular buildings containing the ruins of cylinders, which evidently have been just like those in the Lama temple, only on a miniature scale. There are the same niches, which evidently once contained many images, all of which have been carried off, either in the first ruthless pillage by the soldiers of the French and English army, or in the subsequent raids of relic-hunters, either Chinese or foreign. The whole place presents a pitiable scene of destruction. I duly made the circuit so often trodden in by-gone years by reverent feet, albeit of alien race and alien creed. Then, bidding farewell to Pekin, I turned my face to the east, with my right hand to the south, and so, crossing the great Pacific Ocean and the broad continent of America, and the stormy Atlantic, I performed the deisul circuit of half the world, and ended my travels by being wrecked on the shores of Old England, which says very little for the good luck which should have attended so exemplary a course of well-doing!
PETER THE GREAT AS RULER AND REFORMER.*
FOR six years after the affair of the Pruth, the attention of Peter was chiefly occupied in trying to obtain peace either by diplomacy or by force of arms. The Swedish people were weary of the war, but King Charles, first from his imprisonment in Turkey, and afterward, when he had suddenly appeared at Stralsund one December morning in 1714, refused to listen to propositions of peace.
Some nobles of Mecklenburg, who were in the service of Hanover and Denmark, tried to create a belief that Peter had ambitious designs in Germany and on the southern coast of the Baltic. The Elector of Hanover, who had now become George I. of England, grew so suspicious that he worked on the Danes to prevent the expedition against Scania in 1716, and even wished the English Admiral Norris to take the Tsar's fleet, seize his person, and thus compel the retirement of the Russian troops. These fears and suspicions were all groundless. The Tsar had not the slightest idea of any permanent occupation in Germany. His only desire was for peace, and his greatest solicitude was how to keep for himself the province of Livonia, which was claimed by King Augustus, and the annexation of which to Russia was opposed by England and Holland. Finland, which had been entirely conquered in two campaigns of 1713 and 1714, he was ready to give back to the Swedes if he could keep Livonia. In the second of these campaigns the Tsar had won a great victory over the Swedish fleet at Hangö-Udd, on which he prided himself. even more than on the battle of Poltáva.
During much of these years the Tsar was absent from his dominions. His shattered health required frequent visits to Carlsbad, to Pyrmont, and to Spa. His person and his character became well known at the courts of Northern Germany; the prejudices against him gradually disappeared, and many absurd stories about his manners and habits were seen to be without foundation. During 1716 he spent the winter in Danzig, most of the summer at Copenhagen, and then
went to Holland, where he staid until late in 1717. During the summer of this year he visited Paris, more for diplomatic reasons and in the hopes of a French alliance than from motives of curiosity. None the less did Peter inspect everything that was curious and instructive. Everywhere he was received with respect and consideration. His history, his character, his achievements, his exact knowledge in so many directions, and his interest in everything that was scientific and technical, made a deep impression. A solemn reception was given to him at the Sorbonne. A medal was struck in his presence and in his honor at the Louvre. Rigaud and Largillière painted his portrait. The boy king, Louis XV., and the regent did all they could to make his stay agreeable. The Duchess of Orleans called him her "hero" and expatiated at length in her letters on his accomplishments. St. Simon thus describes him :
"He was a very tall man, well made, not too stout, with a roundish face, a high forehead, and fine eyebrows, a short nose-but not too short-large at the end; his lips were rather thick; his complexion a ruddy brown; fine black eyes, large, lively, piercing, and well apart; a majestic and gracious look when he wished, otherwise severe and stern, with a twitching, which did not often return, but which disturbed his look and his whole expression and inspired fear. That lasted but a moment, with a wild and terrible look, and passed away as quickly. His whole air showed his intellect, his reflection, and his greatness, and did not lack a certain grace. He wore only a linen collar, a round brown peruque without powder, which did not touch
shoulders, a brown tight-fitting coat, plain, with gold buttons, a waistcoat, breeches, stockings, no gloves nor cuffs; the star of his order on his coat and the ribbon underneath; his coat often quite unbuttoned, his hat on a table and never on his head, even out-of-doors. With all this simplicity, and in whatever bad carriage or company he might be, one could not fail to perceive the air of greatness that was natural to him."
The visit had its effect, and in the following August a treaty was made at Amsterdam between France, Russia, and Prussia.
THE TSARÉVITCH ALEXIS. HIS EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE.
ALEXIS was still in his ninth year when the Tsaritsa Eudoxia was sent to the con
Copyright, 1880, by Eugene Schuyler. All rights reserved.
vent at Suzdal, and he was confided to his Aunt Natalia. But already at the age of six he had been given a teacher, Nikifor Viázemsky, to instruct him in the elements. Viázemsky gave to Alexis that love for Biblical and religious reading which distinguished him afterward, but he was not a man of sufficiently strong character to control him. Peter, after his return from abroad, thought to send his son to Dresden under the care of the Polish General Carlovitch, to be educated together with young Henry Lefort, but the death of Carlovitch in the attack on Dünamünde, in March, 1700, put an end to this plan. Carlovitch had recommended as teacher a certain Martin Neugebauer, from Danzig, who had been for some years in the Saxon service, and who had accompanied him to Russia. During the years that he had charge of the education of Alexis, Neugebauer performed his duties conscientiously enough, but with more zeal than discretion. He speedily came into conflict with the Russians, and his own hot temper and rough manners rendered it impossible for him to keep his position. He was succeeded by Huyssen, who had been brought into the Russian service by Patkul. Huyssen drew up a plan of education-which was approved by the Tsar-suitable for the education of the heir of a great empire, according to which Alexis was to devote much time to French, mathematics, history, and geography, as well as politics. He was to study Fénelon's "Télémaque," and the works of Puffendorf, to read the foreign newspapers, to be informed as to the duties and history of princes, especially of absolute monarchs, and finally to wind up with a course of artillery and engineering. He was, besides this, daily to read the Bible so that in a given time he would finish the Old Testament once and the New Testament twice. In his hours of leisure he was to look at atlases and globes, practice with mathematical instruments, and exercise himself in fencing, dancing, and riding, as well as in different games, especially ballplaying. Under Huyssen the studies of the young Prince made much progress, and his tutor seems to have been satisfied with his capabilities and his desire to learn. The reports made to the Tsar were generally favorable, and writing to Leibnitz, Huyssen
"The Prince lacks neither capacity nor quickness of mind. His ambition is moderated by reason, by
sound judgment, and by a great desire to distinguish himself and to gain everything which is fitting for a
great prince. He is of a studious and pliant nature, and wishes by assiduity to supply what has been I notice in him a great neglected in his education. inclination to piety, justice, uprightness, and purity of morals. He loves mathematics and foreign languages, and shows a great desire to visit foreign countries. He wishes to acquire thoroughly the French and German languages, and has already begun to receive instruction in dancing and military exercises, which give him great pleasure. The Tsar has allowed him not to be strict in the observance of the fasts for fear of harming his health and his indulgence in this respect." bodily development, but out of piety he refuses any
In Moscow, Alexis was thrown much into the company of those who preferred the old order of things and hated the innovations of the Tsar. The dislike to reforms and novelties was as strong among the upper classes, and even in the palace itself, as among the common people. There were step-sisters of Peter still living who in secret sympathized with Sophia, who died in 1704, and with Martha, who died only in 1707, in her convent cell at Alexandrovo. There were brothers of the repudiated Eudoxia, there were the greatuncles of Alexis, the Naryshkins, who confirmed Alexis in his distaste for carrying out the commands of his father. But most of all Alexis associated with the clergy, and his confessor, Jacob Ignátief, had as much influence of a similar kind as Nikon had at one time upon the Tsar Alexis.
The impression was made upon the common people that the Tsarévitch was opposed to his father, and he was looked upon as the only hope in the future. Ignátief came from Suzdal, and Alexis was, therefore, the more easily brought into communication with his mother, then in a convent at Suzdal. In 1706, he was taken to visit her. The Tsar received information of this journey from his sister Natalia, and immediately sent for Alexis to come to Zolkiew, where he reprimanded him sharply. After this Alexis was detained for several months in Smolensk, where he was charged by his father with the collection and provisioning of the troops. He returned to Moscow in the autumn of 1707, and found new duties imposed upon him in the defense of the city against a possible attack by the Swedes. Alexis returned for a while to his studies, but in the beginning of 1709 he abandoned them again to conduct a party of five thousand recruits to the Ukraine, where he had a dangerous fit of illness.
After the battle of Poltáva, it was resolved that Alexis should go to Dresden for his further education. Soon after arriving in