THE IMPORTANCE OF DEATH.

Auckland Star, Volume LV, Issue 248, 18 October 1924, Page 30

THE IMPORTANCE OF DEATH.

CHINESE FUNERAL CUSTOMS.

(By A. M. KARLIN.)

Life in tho East is of small importance —one of those unavoidable though regrettable, accidents duo to the law of reincarnation —but death is of supremo significance, for it is the life that counts, therefore the anxiety visible throughout China to do the right thing, not by the living but the dead. A living creature is able to look after his own interests (or ought to be), but a ghost depends on those he left behind, and to havo no heirs is consequently the greatest of all possible misfortunes. To bo re-born a ■bachelor is a dire punishment in the Bast, though considered a blessing in the West, and ghosts without direct descendants—poor benighted ghosts indeed —have & special holidnv, so tunt everyone can worship, oflfer money, and burn incense in their name. Sinco life is accidental, but death the opening to a greater and better permanence, it is natural that every possible caro is taken to make the opening of this gate in every way a successful one. The thing most desired throughout life is a beautiful coffin, and pious and filial indeed the sun who makce the present of a nice and flawless coffin to his aged parent. Such a coffin is not infrequently kept at home instead of deposited at Bomo temple, for at home there is the pleaeure of "trying it out," of measuring, and of making the indispensable blankets, the rolls, the inner covering. Many a pleasant afternoon is epent by tho happy grandmother in going from shop to shop feeling line silks, comparing shades, haggling for hours, and purchasing at lust the material for the last gown of all. Much loving care is spent in its sewing, perhaps even in embroidering it, and when all is finished, and the coffin really comfortable, there is nothing left but the joy of anticipation. Friends are often taken to see it, and (lawlessness of the wood is praisingly remarked upon. It so happened that a death occurred at the very houso 1 was staying at, and I was thus enabled to see all ceremonies from first to last. There is, iris the very heart of Peking, an old temple dedicated to the "Governor of the Underworld," who decides the fate of men, their death hour, their life in the shadow world, and their conditions of rebirth; ten high officials assist him, and those souls that fail to qualify for a happy existence are handed over to the ruler of tho Hsu Pah Yith, tho eighteen hells of Buddl ism. One. day the father of my landlord, a man past the seventies, came hom£ and said to his servant:— "Ring up my son, and tell him that I am departing from this world; when I passed the Governor's temple this morning a cold shiver went down my spine and the message reached mc, that I am called away." He fell ill towards evening and was dead next day. No corpse can bo brought into a houso, therefore it is important not to die at a hospital, in tho street or in foreign parts, for this would handicap tho spirit and give all evil ghosts a chance, of working harm. It is also essential to die on a lucky day, for on an unlucky one tho head of the soul body it not finished, and there is therefore a strong inclination on the sido of the newly departed one to become troublesome to his inattentive survivors. The coffin of fineet catalpa-wood, all waiting, was carried into the best room of the house. Five blankets or rather counterpanes of beautiful »jlk\, were brought in and placed in the coffin; they were lilac, yellow, blue, silver grey and scarlet, the last one had to lie uppermost for scarlet is the only colour that will frighten evil ghosts away, just as a broom is the only weapon that may be successfully used against them. For the same reason every nail in the room must be most carefully covered with red silk; should such a precaution be omitted the results would be most regrettable, for in this case the guardian of the Underwork, who invariably accompanies the returning soul when she goes to partake of the last feast spread out in her honour, would simply hang the soul on the unprotected nail, and partake of tho feed himself. The body of the dead man was washed and then clothed in the old mandarin robes of his bygone days—the wide silk trousers, the high boots, the gorgeous coat with the embroidered crane, his hat with his own stone of office in front and his wide belt. Lifted by relations only, he was placed on the counterpanes, his pipe, his favourite small treasures, his decorations placed around him, and every space perfectly filled with plaster of Paris rolls covered with scarlet silk. Five more counterpanes, all with an opening for the face, were placed on him, the uppermost again of the deepest scarlet. A plank of excellent wood, perfectly polished and of agreeable scent, was shot into the grooves of the coffin and sweet-smelling glue of light yellow colour poured over it. Such glue was likewise poured into the four corner holes, and the lid driven in with wedges. No nail was used. Last of all the son— while all relatives wailed most pitifully ■ —drove a silver nail sideways into the catalpa-wood, and each near relative, men first, women afterwards, gave three faint blows against it, thus speeding the parting ghost. To omit this would be an act of inexcusable rudeness. Once the coffin is closed a curtain is drawn across .the room which has an opening through which the upper end of it is visible. Against this part of tho coffin is placed a table covered with the choicest fruits, the best vegetables, the favourite food and drink of the dead man. Nearer to the entrance door and in line with the table stands a green earthenware bowl, in which paper money is constantly burnt, and the smoke of incense rises uninterruptedly. Outside the room stand some musicians wth drums, flutes, and a curious kind of trumpet. They keep up a noise (or music) without the slightest interruption, for to avoid doing this would permit evil ghosts to slip into tho house; beyond tho other courtyards, outside the front gate, two huge drums are beaten as often as visitors enter, and here also lama priests in long grey cassocks sing the eutras for the dead. The mourning colour is white, and all relatives wear it, but sons and daughter* put on the roughest of grass linen clothes, unhemmed, unbleached, carelessly sewn—all proofs of deep mourning. The hair is not cut, the 1. ids not washed, the nails not shortened, the house never left at all, and the food j partaken of without the use of chopsticks. In former times any situation held had to be given up for three years, but the stress of modern life has done away with this. Nevertheless even now no Bilk can be worn, no furs, no gems until three years are past, and grand- ' children cannot marry within this time. I The coffin is first taken to a temple until the lucky day for burial hae been fixed by the diviner. Long strips of

coloured silk sent by friende are hung on all the walls; fresh food is offered every day, figures of handmaidens, paper houses, bamboo horses, paper flowers and fruits filled the room, and are burnt at the grave to accompany the soul. Paper money is offered at frequent intervals, and tho coffin must be lacquered from seven to nine times before it can bo buried. A son is often precipitated into bankruptcy in consequence of a death, for even a cheap funeral will cost a thousand dollars and more. When the lucky day is fixed, when the "day of reception" is past, on which every acquaintance calls at the temple, kow tows to the dead man, is given a cup of tea and announced and dismissed with music, all the beggars of Peking are called together, dressed in goldembroidered green robes and hats with long red feathers, and made to carry lanterne, oil paper objects and other gifte in front of the hearse—a huge box covered with scarlet silk, silver and goldembroidered, so heavy that tho bearers groan under the weight. Tho son, in grasg linen, supported by two friends, precedes the hearse, ac do also tho musicians, carriers of gifts, and lanternbearers. Behind follow tho quaint twowheeled Peking carts, covered with white instead of with tho usual blue, in which the women crouch together. The grave itself is an often neglected small hill in the midst of fields in the North, but a horseshoe formed of- cement in tho South of China, tho opening towards the South, in order to make a return easy for thp wandering ghost.