AI-SHAN PASS AND TEMPLE (see p. [385]).

Temples and shrines to Lung Wang, the Dragon-king, can be seen in or near many villages, sometimes adjoining the shrine of the T'u Ti, and also on many headlands along the coast. The Dragon-king's mother is a favourite object of worship as well as the Dragon-king himself, and her image often occupies a neighbouring shrine. The dragon, as is well known, figures prominently in Chinese myth and legend and in Chinese art-conceptions. It is regarded as a kind of symbol of empire and of things imperial: the "dragon-body" is the emperor's person; the "dragon-seat" is the emperor's throne; the "dragon-pen" is the imperial autograph; the "dragon-flag" is the imperial standard. The myths connected with the dragon are vague and conflicting and no doubt they are of various origins, though Taoism, always an eclectic religion, has found room for them all in its capacious system. There are the dragons of the four quarters of the universe and a fifth for the centre; there are the four dragons of the seas (Hai lung wang), the dragon of rain and clouds, the earth dragon (who is closely concerned with fêng-shui[383]), the dragon of hidden treasures, the heavenly dragon, and several protean dragons that can assume any shape and go anywhere they please. The Mother-dragon, judging from her clay image in the temples, seems to be quite an ordinary and rather benevolent old lady, who—one might think—should have been the last person in the world to give birth to an uncanny son; but even the Dragon himself is similarly privileged to be represented by the image of a man.

Serpent-worship, which was one origin of the dragon-mythology,[384] seems to have left several traces of its existence in China: large snakes—especially in localities where snakes are rare—are often supposed to be manifestations of the divine Dragon.[385] There is another superstition to the effect that certain evil demons can assume a serpent-like shape and drive men to death by haunting them and climbing on their backs.[386] Very recently (during the summer of 1909) a large snake was killed by lightning near a village close to the borders of the Weihaiwei Territory. Next morning (the thunderstorm having occurred at night) the villagers found the scorched body of the reptile and forthwith agreed among themselves that it was a devil-snake. Their only reasons for this surmise seem to have been its unusually great size[387] and the peculiar manner of its death. A devil-snake is supposed to be nearly as dangerous when dead as when alive, so the villagers deputed six of their number to carry it to the coast and carefully consign it to the ocean. There, no doubt, the sea-dragon could look after its own.

"The Chinese, the Mexicans and the Semitic nations," says Dr. Aston, "concur in associating water with the serpent."[388]

Perhaps it was the sinuosity of rivers viewed from a height that first suggested the connection, and this would also account for the Chinese dragon's association with mountains as well as with rivers. It should be remembered that when one meets cases of mountain-gods, river-gods, sea-gods, tree-gods, one finds one of two beliefs, or both inextricably mixed: there is the belief that the mountain, river, sea or tree is itself a god, and there is the belief that these natural objects are merely inhabited or presided over by a god or spirit, who may or may not be visible to mortal eyes. We know that in the case of sun-worship the earliest belief seems to have been that the visible sun is the god himself; later on the sun is regarded merely as the sun's chariot; and later still the god (Apollo) identifies himself with so many different activities and interests that we are apt altogether to forget or ignore his primary connection with the sun. The case of Zeus, who was originally the deified vault of heaven, is a similar one: and there are very many others.

The legend current in Weihaiwei regarding the origin of the Dragon-king (who may be compared with the Nāga-rāja of the Indian peninsula) runs somewhat as follows. His mother was an ordinary mortal, but gave birth to him in a manner that was not—to say the least—quite customary. Being in his dragon-shape the lusty infant immediately flew away on a journey of exploration, but returned periodically for the purpose of being fed. As he grew larger and more terrifying in aspect day by day his mother grew much alarmed, and confided her woes to her husband, the dragon's father. The father after due consideration decided there was no help for it but to cut off his preposterous son's head: so next day he waited behind a curtain, sword in hand, for the dragon's arrival. The great creature flew into the house in his usual unceremonious manner, curled his tail round a beam below the roof, and hung head downwards in such a way that by swaying himself gently he could reach his mother's breast. At this juncture his father came from behind the curtain, whirled his sword round his head, and brought it down on what ought to have been the dragon's neck. But whether it was that his hand shook, or he misjudged the distance, or his prey was too quick for him, the fact remains that the dragon's head remained where it was, and its owner merely emitted a strange gurgling sound that might have been meant for an expression of irritation or might on the other hand have been a draconic chuckle. Before the sword could be whirled a second time the dragon seized his father round the waist, untwisted his tail from the beam in the roof, and flew away to the eastern seas. The dragon's father was never seen again, but the dragon and his mother were elevated to a divine rank from which they have never since been displaced.

The reasons for the elevation to godhead are perhaps not quite apparent: but the popular saying that "the dragon's bounty is as profound as the ocean and the mother-dragon's virtue is as lofty as the hills" has a reference to their functions as controllers of the rains and clouds. Of other local legends about Lung Wang perhaps two will suffice.

In the Jung-ch'êng district, not far from the British frontier,[389] is a pool of water which though several miles from the sea is said to taste of sea-salt, to be fathomless, and to remain always at the same level. It is dedicated to the Dragon. One day an inquisitive villager tried to fathom its gloomy depths with his pien-tang or carrying-pole. Hardly had he immersed it in the water than it was grasped by a mysterious force and wrenched out of his hand. It was immediately drawn below, and after waiting in vain for its reappearance the villager went home. A few days later he was on the sea-coast, gathering seaweed for roof-thatch, when suddenly he beheld his pien-tang floating in the water below the rocks on which he was standing. On the first available opportunity after this, he burned three sticks of incense in Lung Wang's temple as an offering to the deity that had given him so striking a demonstration of his miraculous power. The Lung Wang of the ocean, it may be mentioned, is said to have a great treasure-house under the sea in which he stores the wealth that comes to him from wrecked junks. Among his most precious possessions are the eyes of certain great fish, which are believed to be priceless gems. That is the reason, say the fisher-folk, why large dead fish, when cast up on shore, are always found to be eyeless: Lung Wang has picked out their eyes and put them among his treasures.