of a cylinder containing a revolving
apparatus which might help a creature immersed in the fluid to climb
up. This strange mummery is supposed to release those souls who are
condemned to sojourn in a pool of blood.[893] This, too, is a
superstition countenanced only by Chinese Buddhism, for the punishment
is incurred not so much by sinners as by those dying of illnesses
which defile with blood. Many other rites are based on the notion that
objects--or their paper images--ceremonially burnt are transmitted to
the other world for the use of the dead. Thus representations in paper
of servants, clothes, furniture, money and all manner of things are
burned together with the effigy of the deceased and sometimes also
certificates and passports giving him a clean bill of health for the
Kingdom of Heaven.

As in funeral rites, so in matters of daily life, Buddhism gives its
countenance and help to popular superstition, to every kind of charm
for reading the future, securing happiness and driving away evil
spirits. In its praise may be said that this patronage, though far too
easy going, is not extended to cruel or immoral customs. But the
reader will ask, is there no brighter side? I believe that there is,
but it is not conspicuous and, as in India, public worship and temple
ritual display the lower aspects of religion. But in China a devout
Buddhist is generally a good man and the objects of Buddhist
associations are praiseworthy and philanthropic. They often include
vegetarianism and abstinence from alcohol and drugs. The weakness of
the religion to-day is no doubt the want of intelligence and energy
among the clergy. There are not a few learned and devout monks, but
even devotion is not a characteristic of the majority. On the other
hand, those of the laity who take their religion seriously generally
attain a high standard of piety and there have been attempts to
reform Buddhism, to connect it with education and to spread a
knowledge of the more authentic scriptures.[894]

When one begins to study Buddhism in China, one fears it may be
typified by the neglected temples on the outskirts of Peking, sullen
and mouldering memorials of dynasties that have passed away. But later
one learns not only that there are great and nourishing monasteries in
the south, but that even in Peking one may often step through an
archway into courtyards of which the prosaic streets outside give no
hint and find there refreshment for the eye and s