In the temple there is a large image of the Buddha which, say the villagers, was not made but "just growed." There is a little story told of this image. A peasant-woman was in the habit of cutting firewood from the shrubs on the slopes of Ku Shan and one day she noticed a particularly thick and well-grown shrub which she immediately proceeded to cut down, leaving nothing in the ground but the roots. Next day she happened to pass that way again, and to her amazement found another shrub, equally thick and well grown, in precisely the same spot. Her surprise was great, but seeing no reason why she should neglect to avail herself of her good luck she treated the second shrub exactly as she had treated the first, and took it home. On the third day the same thing happened again. The woman possessed herself of the shrub as before, but having done so she could no longer keep the knowledge of these strange occurrences to herself and decided to let her neighbours into the secret.
Next day a large number of her incredulous fellow-villagers accompanied her to the spot she indicated, and there, sure enough, a lordly shrub had once more made its miraculous appearance. The wise man of the party explained that the locality was obviously haunted by a powerful spirit, and suggested the advisability of digging up the ground to see what might be underneath. This was accordingly done, and immediately below the roots of the shrub was discovered a colossal stone image of Sakyamuni Buddha. The village councillors then held a meeting to discuss the prodigy, and it was unanimously resolved, firstly, that the image had not been carved by the hands of man, and, secondly, that a suitable resting-place must be found for it as soon as possible in a well-conducted Buddhist temple. The temple finally decided on was the Huang K'o Ssŭ—a lonely building which still exists on a hillside overlooking the village of Fang Chi. Ropes and trestles were obtained, and dozens of willing hands volunteered to carry the sacred image to the temple selected: but the image would not move. A reinforcement of bearers was summoned, yet though they pulled and strained for over an hour not a single inch of progress was made. The wise man then announced that the Buddha had evidently taken a dislike to the Huang K'o Ssŭ: perhaps he wished to be taken to the Ku Shan temple instead. So the bearers began pulling in the opposite direction (for Huang K'o Ssŭ lies to the south, Ku Shan Ssŭ to the north), and to their astonishment hardly any effort on their part was required: the image almost went of its own accord. In a short space of time the party reached a brook which happened to have been swollen by heavy rains. Fearing that an accident might occur if an attempt were made to cross the brook at that time, the villagers decided to leave it on the bank until the flood-waters had gone down. At sunrise next day they all returned to the spot where the image had been left, but to their profound consternation it had disappeared. After a prolonged search it was accidentally discovered on the further side of the brook: obviously it had gone across of its own accord! By this time the villagers were thoroughly awed, and even the most irreligious of them impressively assured his companions that he had decided to devote the rest of his life to piety and good works. The wonderful image was duly installed in the temple of its choice, and there—amid picturesque if somewhat decayed surroundings—it still remains.
One of the largest Buddhist temples is that known as Tou Shan Ssŭ, situated on a hill overlooking the village of Tung Tou Shan. It contains nothing of much interest except a "temple of horrors," as Europeans usually designate such places, namely a roomful of clay images representing the tortures applied to sinners in the Buddhist "hells." The educated classes of China (including enlightened Buddhists) regard such things with good-natured contempt. A writer in the Jung-ch'êng Chih, mentioning the so-called hells of Buddhism, remarks that "although this is not in accordance with the true worship of the gods it is useful as a means of warning and keeping in order the ignorant multitude."[395] Into the outside wall of this temple has been built a curious old stone representing the historical Buddha. The style of carving is Indian, such as may be seen in many old Buddhist temples in China. The traditional Indian styles of what may be called ecclesiastical architecture and decoration survived in Chinese Buddhistic art long after Indian and Chinese Buddhists had ceased to make pilgrimages to each other's countries. This stone was doubtless saved for the present buildings during one of the rather frequent restorations which this temple has undergone.
There is now very little that is distinctively Buddhistic in the religious ideas or ceremonies of the people, and apart from the priests it is very doubtful whether there is a single Chinese in the Territory who could give the date and place of the Buddha's birth,[396] much less give any account of the teachings of that wonderful man. The reincarnation of human souls is vaguely believed in after a fashion, though some belief of the kind would probably be found in China even though Buddhism had never existed. The theory of the "transmigration of souls," which is not Buddhistic except in a popular sense, has driven out of sight and memory the theory of the reincarnation of Karma, which is taught by canonical Buddhism. The doctrine of the Buddha on this and many other points is too profound to be grasped by the uncultivated peasant. The crude idea of "transmigration" has been held by numerous tribes and races never reached or affected by Buddhism—such as certain American Indians, Greenlanders, Australian aborigines, and African negroes: indeed it existed in Asia (and probably elsewhere) long before the days of the Buddha.
Dr. Tylor shows,[397] in the case of the Manichæans and Nestorians, that even within the range of Christian influence the idea of transmigration has widely flourished; indeed, to a limited extent it apparently exists to this day among certain Christians of eastern Europe. Thus when a Chinese litigant in Weihaiwei presents a petition in which he says, "if I am not telling the strict truth may I after death change into a donkey or a worm and never more appear in the form of a man," he is only expressing himself in the terms of a belief that is in reality independent of Buddhism, though now closely connected with it in the popular mind. I have before me a petition which concludes in words that may be translated thus: "If His Worship will take pity on his humble petitioner and come to his help in the present trouble, then the whole of his petitioner's family and all future generations of his family for a period of ten thousand kalpas (innumerable ages) will reverently raise their hands and repeat the name of Amitabha Buddha." This, of course, is a "patter" taken from the lips of the Buddhist priests; Amitabha[398] is the great Buddha-god of the fabled Western Heaven—that abode of bliss which in the Chinese Mahayana system has practically abolished (except for certain monkish schools) the Nirvana of primitive and orthodox Buddhism.
A few stories and legends survive in Weihaiwei to show that Buddhism was once a mightier power in this part of China than it is at present. Of a fisherman named Miao we are told that once upon a time when he was at sea he hooked what he thought was a great fish; but when he hauled in his line he found his "catch" was an image of Buddha. Being an irreligious man he took a stone and smashed the image to pieces. A few days afterwards he sickened and died. According to another story an image of Kuan Yin (the "Goddess of Mercy") in the tower of the south gate of Weihai city is of peculiar sanctity. About the year 1650 part of the city wall collapsed and the gate-tower fell in ruins: but the image, though it was only made of clay, was miraculously preserved and was found uninjured on the top of the pile of ruins. The people of Weihaiwei marvelled much at this incident and willingly subscribed for the restoration of the tower and the shrine. For the better protection of the goddess in future, an image of Wei To was set up within the shrine, and since then there have been no accidents.[399]