God's Chinese Son

by Jonathan Spence

  Almost certainly Hong's "Exhortations" are built from material in Hong's head, as he and Feng can have carried few books with them on their two months of marching, and a non-scholar family in rural Guangxi probably had scant library resources. For a man trained for the Confucian examinations for twenty years or more, China's basic Confucian texts are firmly lodged, as are the basic outline and major figures in China's long recorded history. In any case, Hong keeps most of the allusions simple.22 And though we cannot tell if he has taken Liang Afa's text with him on his journey, with his mental training he will have committed all the major parts to memory, and recall them at his own volition.

  Hong may have written several "Exhortations," but only one complete example has come down to us, the "Ode on the Origin of the Way and Our Salvation." As Hong explains in his preamble to this ode, China has fallen away from a basic belief that once was shared by all:

  God the Father and Lord of All belongs to all people.

  The idea that the world is one dates from long ago.

  From the time of Pan Gu[2] through the first three dynasties

  Rulers and subjects alike revered the Lord of Heaven.23

  In that ancient time, such faith and belief were automatic: Heaven and humans, in those earlier days, saw as one. So how could God then have needed anyone to supplement Him? Certainly not the Buddha, who did not even exist in those far-off days. Our central task is to shun the evil spirits, and cleave to the way of moral Tightness—those who cleave to such Tightness will be embraced by Heaven—those who do not will be abhorred by Heaven. And so, writes Hong, we must follow six command­ments that will keep us on the path of righteousness: The first of these is never to follow the path of lust. The second is always to obey our parents. The third is never to kill people. The fourth is not to steal. The fifth is to stay away from all witchcraft and magical arts. The sixth is never to gamble.24

  In glossing each of these, Hong uses his years of reading to emphasize the moral point. Lust changes us to demons and thus enrages Heaven, he argues in explaining the first commandment. Debauching others and debauching ourselves are equally outrageous. How much better it would be to chant the poem in the Confucian Odes about the footprints of the Lin. Hong is confident that anyone of any education knows this poem from China's earliest anthology:

  The feet of the Lin— The noble sons of our Prince, Ah, they are the Lin.

  The forehead of the Lin—

  The noble grandsons of our Prince,

  Ah, they are the Lin.

  The horn of the Lin—

  The noble kindred of our Prince,

  Ah, they are the Lin.

  Hong and his readers know the "Lin" is a fabulous female creature, sym­bol of the good, made up of parts from other creatures of good omen: she has the body of a deer, an ox's tail, a single horn, a horse's hooves, a fish's scales. Confucius told us to remember the footprints of the Lin because the Lin can move so lightly that it harms no living thing by its tread, not even the grass. Similarly her horn is tipped with flesh, showing that though she stands ready to fight with it if necessary, she much prefers the path of peace.25

  We can see a similar point being made, writes Hong, in the answers that Confucius gave to one of his sincerest disciples, Yen Hui, who asked about the attainment of perfect virtue. Such virtue, said Confucius, lies in restraining the self by means of ritualized propriety. The steps on this path to virtue must be fourfold: by controlling vision, hearing, speech, and 26 actions.

  The second commandment, always to obey one's parents, is self-evident and barely needs illustration, writes Hong. Even the animals and birds intuitively understand it, as the lamb kneels down to suck its mother's milk, or the fledgling crow returns to its parents their proffered food. The great sage ruler Shun wept and cried aloud as he worked in the fields at the foot of Li Mountain, because he could not understand why his parents should hate him when he sought only to serve them dutifully. Twice, indeed, they sought to kill him, to get his property, his wives, his flocks and land. Once they fired the storehouse when he was working on the roof, and he would have perished in the flames had he not swiftly extem­porized a pair of wings and glided down to safety. And once, when he was working at the bottom of a well, they filled it with stones to crush him, but he escaped through a transverse tunnel he had cunningly pre­pared. But despite this vivid evidence of their hostility to him, he never wavered in his affectionate regard for them.27

  The third commandment, not to kill, is also self-evident in various ways: since in this world all are brothers, killing anyone of our own species must be wrong; since all of us are God's children, to destroy others is to strike at Him. Thus in ancient China people never killed wantonly, and the early rulers wept when they had to punish people and even gave up territory rather than fight. Those who kill are no better than bandits, and those who take up arms to kill those in authority will either end up being driven to take their own lives or will vanish as though they had never been—this is as true for those who sought to destroy the Ming dynasty as for those, long before, who fought against the rulers of the Qin or Tang.28

  The fourth commandment, not to steal, is for Hong not a question of social order but one of internal moral stance. It is true that Heaven will withdraw its protection from all who form gangs for the purposes of robbing others, but at the same time the man of moral principle will not dream of taking another's property even if he has the opportunity. He will turn away from those who distress him by their moral failings, just as the old histories show Yang Zhen and Guan Ning took their stance. When Yang Zhen was a senior official, one of his subordinates, in a private meeting at night, offered him ten ounces of gold. Yang Zhen refused it. Angered, the man said, "Twilight has fallen, no one will ever know about it!" To which Yang Zhen replied, "Heaven will know, the spirits will know, I will know, you will know—how can you say no one will know about it!"" The scholar Guan Ning was at home reading when an official of the highest rank, in fancy carriage and hat of state, rode past his door. Guan Ning never even looked up from his book. When his closest friend, with whom he was sitting on the same mat, did look up, Guan sliced the mat in two, saying, "You're no friend of mine."30

  To reinforce these first four commandments, Hong has used mainly classical and historical allusions. For the fifth, "not to practice witchcraft," he gives no Chinese examples, but simply invokes the language used by Liang Afa in his tracts—though Hong does not acknowledge Liang by name. Witches and magicians, practitioners of heterodox arts, all work against Heaven, for it is Heaven that decides the rhythms of our life, and when and how death comes. Incantations, processions, fasting, worship of demons have no effect, and one can see all too easily how those who claim to master magical arts themselves live in poverty:

  The demons' agents serve the demons and end up possessed by them.

  The gates of hell are always open to receive the followers of sin."

  With the sixth commandment, "not to gamble," Hong returns to his Confucian texts and histories. Though he has tried to take Confucian tablets out of the schools in which he and his fellow believers were teach­ing, he still does not reject the sage himself. Twice, in listing the reasons against gambling, he praises Confucius and his followers for their patient acceptance of hardship, their simple life, and their upright natures. Whereas gambling represents a "hidden blade" that seeks to cut against the will of Heaven, which distributes wealth and poverty according to God's rules, not man's; it keeps us from being diligent and accepting ade­quate recompense for our work. In this, continues Hong, gambling is like both the drinking of wine and the smoking of opium. Wine wipes out families and has destroyed the strongest of rulers: "With iron they bound rivers and hills; because of wine they perished." Opium smoking makes some men mad and weakens others beyond recourse: "In the present times how many spirited Chinese have ruined themselves by their constant use of the opium pipe!"3-

  Hong makes no attempt to list any more of the wrongs that afflict the world:


  It is hard to list all the other wrongful acts one by one:

  Each individual must differentiate between the minute and the vast.

  For if they do not think through each specific action, their virtue will be compro­mised.

  Before the solid ice has formed, tread lightly on the frost.33

  Some time during his first months of living in Sigu village, Hong hears of a local place of worship, the Shrine of the Six Caverns, which seems to draw together all his worst fears and warnings about the society's loss of moral order. When he asks who is venerated in the shrine, he is informed that it is built to the departed spirits of a man and a woman. Hong asks if they were married or not. The reply given by the locals horrifies him: "No, they were not. Long ago those two sang together on this mountain, made love, and died. Later, people believed the couple became immortals, so they erected their images here and sacrificed to them." How could they possibly become immortals, Hong asks, after illicitly running away and living together? Heaven would punish such a couple, not confer immor­tality upon them, and their so-called shrine must be nothing more than a lair of demons.34 So again, Hong turns to verse to express his feelings:

  I take up my writing brush and compose a poem, condemning this "Six Cavern

  Shrine."

  Those two demon devils should be killed, exterminated.

  The mountain people here have reverted to being animals—

  Wherever you go the men sing their songs and the women respond in kind.

  Sinners end up with the reputation of achieving immortality,

  And wildly promiscuous women become the village wives!

  One day from the midst of the storm clouds the thunder will strike them

  When Heaven can bear no more, what will become of them?35

  Reading, writing, teaching, moving from house to house among his hospitable Hakka relatives, Hong spreads his message of sin, redemption, and remorse. Again and again, he tells of his dream and its significance. The simple religious service he has improvised back home in Guanlubu is formalized now, in the western mountain setting, and some of the ele­ments first used are gone. No longer, for example, is God's name written on a tablet or golden paper, and displayed with burning incense on the altar. Instead, during services, two burning lamps are placed upon the table, and three cups of tea to make a simple offering. The congregation grows and the Hakka women join their menfolk, though men and women sit in separate rows. Hymns are sung to God, for the people here are full of song, but these hymns speak of God's grace, and Hong's sermons underline the message with warnings against idolatry, and emphasis on Jesus as redeemer. When praying, all kneel together facing the light, which pours into the room, for in these mountain dwellings the walls are often open to attract the breeze. They keep their eyes closed, and one person in turn speaks their prayers aloud.36

  I, Your unworthy son / daughter [here each person utters his or her own name] kneeling on the ground, with true heart repent my sins. I pray to the Heavenly Father and Great God, of extraordinary goodness and mercy, to forgive my former ignorance and frequent transgressions of the Heavenly Commandments. I earnestly beseech the Heavenly Father and Great God, to extend His grace and pardon all my former sins, and permit me to reform my faults and renew myself, so that my soul may ascend to heaven. May I henceforth sincerely repent and reform, not worshipping false spirits nor practicing perverse things, but obeying the Heavenly Commandments. I also earnestly pray to the Heavenly Father and Great God, to bestow on me constantly His Holy Spirit, to change my wicked heart and never to allow the devilish demons to deceive me. Constantly look after me, and never permit the devilish demons to harm me. I am blessed that every day there is food and clothing, and neither calamity nor hardship. In this world may I enjoy peace, and in ascending to heaven, may I enjoy eternal bliss. Blessed by the merits of the Saviour and Heavenly Elder Brother, Jesus, who has redeemed us from sin, we pray through him to our Heavenly Father, the Great God, who is in Heaven, that His will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Look down and grant my request. Amen.37

  Within a few months, Hong has converted around a hundred people in the mountain area of Sigu. Those desiring to receive baptism first make a written confession of their sins, which they then read aloud; or they can offer an oral confession if they do not write. The written confessions are burned at the altar, the smoke rising up to God the Father.38 They then pledge themselves "not to worship evil spirits, not to practice evil things, and to keep the heavenly commandments." Water is poured over their heads, and Hong cleanses them of their past lives with these words: "We wash away all your former sins, slough off the old and give birth to the new." Those who have received their baptism then bathe their bodies in the river, drink the tea that has been standing on the altar, and wash their chest around the area of their heart, to signify that their inner and outer cleansing is completed. Henceforth at every meal they will offer up this simple prayer: "We humbly give thanks to the Heavenly Father and Great God, for His many blessings, for each day's clothing and food, for sparing us calamity and hardship, and helping our souls rise up to Heaven."3''

  Learning can be used in many ways. Although Hong has never received his licentiate's degree, and has resolved never to try for it again, he knows the language of the bureaucracy, and the forms that need to be observed. Thus when the son of his host and convert Huang Shengjun is arrested on a charge brought against him by a neighboring clan, Huang and his family turn to Hong for help. At first he urges them to pray to God for the young man's release, and this they do. But Hong reinforces these pleas for divine assistance with a polished petition to the local magistrate who oversees the case. The petition is effective and within a few weeks the prisoner is released and back at home. Shortly after his return, he too is converted to Hong's new faith.40

  Everything does not always go so smoothly for Hong Xiuquan in Sigu. There are some kinds of "serious family troubles" at the Huangs, perhaps involving something more than the charges brought against their young son and his subsequent incarceration. Hong leaves the Huang's home for a period, and goes with his close friend Feng Yunshan to stay in a hut in the mountains. In that rural retreat he is insulted in some way by people's remarks about him—perhaps resenting his religion, his moralism, or his verbal attack on the Six Caverns Shrine. Not long after this, though Hong returns to the Huangs, Feng goes off to live in the larger town of Guiping, the county seat, where he has made new friends—the Zhangs, who are supervisors of the city's water ponds and dikes—and in six or seven days Feng spends much of his (and Hong's?) remaining funds.41

  It is in November 1844 that Hong decides at last to leave. He has been in Guangxi for more than five months, and it is close to eight months since he first left home to tour the world and preach God's word. Even though he has managed to send one letter home, by the hands of relatives traveling to Canton, his family must be worried. There is another factor. Hong has been preaching that not to be a filial son is one of the six main sins against Heaven's True God. But as the basic Confucian texts on filial piety state, in volumes that every student reads as he begins his education, of all unfilial acts not to have a son to carry on the family line ranks highest. And as of now, Hong has only daughters.

  Huang Shengjun, so long the sheltering host, sees Hong Xiuquan safely to Guiping township. They search for Feng at Zhang's home, but do not find him. Zhang tells them he has heard that Feng has already left for Guanlubu, and Hong accepts this as accurate, making no further attempt to track down Feng. Hong says farewell to Huang Shengjun and travels back to Guanlubu alone. This time he goes by boat, presumably paying for his fare and food with money given by the faithful of Guangxi. The voyage—downstream along the Xun River till it flows into the West River, which in turn leads straight to Canton—is fast and uneventful. In twelve days Hong is home, with his parents, wife, and daughters.42

  7 THE BASE

  When Hong gets back home the first thing he asks everyone is "Where is Feng Yunshan?" And
they all say, "We thought he was with you." There has been a muddle, one which can be explained if not condoned. In Guiping town­ship, when Hong went to the house of pond and irrigation supervisor Zhang to ask him where Feng was, Zhang replied that Feng and one of Zhang's nephews had announced they were returning to Canton and Guanlubu. Without checking further, Hong took the story at face value, and returned, to be scolded by Feng's family for abandoning the son he had first converted and then persuaded to accompany him on his far-flung travels.1

  There is little that Hong Xiuquan can do about it. He has neither the funds nor perhaps the energy or will to make the trip all the way back to Guangxi again. Besides, local village leaders in Guanlubu once more offer him back his old teaching job. He accepts, and supports his family by his teaching while he continues to develop the range of religious tracts that he first began in Sigu village with the Huangs of Guangxi.2