The Eastern Hill Temple
IS New Year's morning in Old Cathay, and Peking, the proud capital, is
dressed in gayest holiday attire. As the sun rises above the eastera horizon her people may be seen wending their way along the broad street toward the city gate. They pass through the old Chi Hua Men and join the eager, expectant throngs who press on toward a common goal De join the procession, and after a brief ten-minute walk approach a temple entrance, imposing even for Peking. Four wooden pailous, arranged in a quadrangle, mark the spot by the roadway, which, for more than ten centuries, has been a temple site. Two stone lions, one on either side, guard the outer gateway, while cords of fragrant incense, piled high on tables all about us, meet with an ever-ready sale. De enter and find the spacious courtyards teeming with life and activity; for, within these outer walls, an old-fashioned fair is in progress, and the numerous bazaars present a galaxy of flaming Oriental color. Passing through the massive gateway, we enter the sacred inner court. Here we are surrounded by thousands of reverent worshipers performing their devotions, while clouds of incense rise from countless brazen urns that dot the spacious porticoes. The Tung Yüeh Miao, or Eastern Hill Temple, as this rich sanctuary is called, is one of the best examples of a Taoist pantheon to be found anywhere in China. It is very old, and some of the more popular images carry us back to a remote age. The temple buildings, ROW standing upon the site of still older structures, date back to the Mongol dynasty (A.D. 1260-1368). In the center of the courtyard, approached by an elevated causeway of chiseled stone, stands the main hall or temple, which is beautifully shown in the accompanying plate. Here, where "shadows meet and whisper and shrink back into deep warm darkness," sits the deity who, in the Taoist hierachy, ranks "almost on a level with the Creator," namely, the Spirit of T'ai Shan, China's holy mountain in Shantung. Near "Him Vho Rivals Heaven," in a comer of this same sanctuary, we find the famous god of writing, "to whom all those desirous of succeeding in literature bring their offerings of pen brushes and ink slabs." The lesser shrines of the Tung Yüeh Miao are filled with a multitude of gods-"mostly those who control the mortal body. Persons sufering from various ailments come here to propitiate the gods of fever, of chills, of coughs, of con sumption, of colic, of hemorrhage, of toothache: for gods exist governing 'every part of the body from the hair to the toenails.' To make assurance doubly sure, the sick include in their pilgrimage a visit to the famous brass horse in one of the shrines behind the main wall, which can cure all the maladies of men." This temple, with its spacious courtyards, dotted with handsome pavilions and row upon row of glistening marble tablets, interspersed with fine old trees, is one of the most attractive of Peking's numerous shrines.
