Matteo Ricci

by Michela Fontana

  “Send Me an Astronomer”

  On completion of the extensions, the building was big enough to accommodate sixteen people, including the novices from Macao and the servants, and to allow the faithful to attend the services held in the spacious chapel. Pleased to note that the house now functioned as a sort of Jesuit college,19 Ricci was always the busiest of them all. In addition to religious activities such as prayer, the performance of spiritual exercises, and celebrating Mass, he taught Chinese by reading the Confucian classics with the novices, and he did not fail to devote part of the day and night to correspondence. As the superior, he kept in constant contact by letter with the missionaries in the other residences, he wrote the customary reports to Rome, he never forgot to write to his brethren in Europe, and he answered the letters of numerous mandarins in Chinese. As though this were not enough, he taught science to those willing to listen to him, he read books in Mandarin, and he devoted many hours to study.

  The problem of the Chinese calendar was never far from his mind, and every year, after the presentation of the “Book of the Laws of Time” at court, he checked and saw that the imperial astronomers’ predictions were inaccurate. As he told João Alvarez in a letter dated May 12, 1605, “Even though I have no book of astrology [astronomy] here, I sometimes predict eclipses more precisely than them with certain Portuguese ephemerides and tables.”20 Evidence of the imperial astronomers’ ignorance was provided by the glaring error of three quarters of an hour in predicting the beginning of the solar eclipse two years earlier in May 1603.21 Well aware of how important the accuracy of astronomical predictions was for the Chinese, Ricci repeated to Alvarez his customary request for brethren skilled in astronomy to be sent to China to help. He was convinced that the missionaries’ reputation would benefit enormously if a Jesuit were to succeed in correcting the Chinese calendar:

  I want very much to make a request that I made many years ago but never received a reply, and it is one of the most useful things that could come from there for this court, namely for a father or brother who is a good astrologer [astronomer]. I say an astrologer because I know enough about other things like geometry, clocks, and astrolabes, and have enough books, but they do not say so much about this, about the movement and true place of the planets, the calculation of eclipses, and how to construct ephemerides. . . . If a mathematician came here, as I ask, we could turn our [astronomical] tables into Chinese characters, which I can do very easily, and undertake the task of amending the year [correcting the calendar], which would give us a great reputation, expand our foothold in China, and allow us greater stability and freedom.22

  Ricci’s activities while awaiting this long-desired scientific support included an increasingly busy social life. Deeply convinced that availability was an integral part of his missionary work, he never refused to receive anyone who wanted to see him, and he accepted every invitation. The influx of visitors was greater in the capital than at any other residence, not only because Beijing was so densely populated, but also because the city filled up every year with thousands of dignitaries and literati taking part in special events and celebrations. In addition to the arrivals and departures of shidafu and guan, there was an almost continuous stream of merchants arriving from other urban and rural areas to supply the Imperial City and the court. Many occasional visitors took advantage of their stay in Beijing to see Li Madou, and old friends gladly undertook the journey to the capital to visit him.

  Ricci wanted the house to be always open: “Even though it is a lot of hard work, let everyone be warmly welcomed so as to gain the good wishes of all as well as the possibility of talking to them about the matters of our faith.”23 He knew that contacts with the most important mandarins were conducive to the progress of the mission and to the protection of the brethren in other cities, being sure that if officials passing through saw the respect that Li Madou enjoyed at court, they would have more consideration for the Jesuits resident in the provinces. He received up to twenty books of visits a day and as many as hundreds on festive occasions, and he went to return the invitations every two or three days, on foot or horseback, as required by etiquette.

  Such zeal had its price, and the Jesuit felt his energy flagging. The post of superior of the China mission was now too much of a burden for him, and he wished with little real hope that Valignano would “lift it from his shoulders.”24 He confessed his weariness to Girolamo Costa on May 10, 1605: “The more the work proceeds, the more business they load upon me. . . . Responding to the visits of the important men that constantly come to see us and learn about our religion would be enough by itself for a man much abler than me.”25 He wrote to Fabio de Fabii in much the same vein: “Writing is all that is left to poor me, so close to the Tartars and very far away not only from Europeans and friends but also from the companions who are in China . . . but do not think that I am therefore idle, as never in my life have I found myself so pressed for time, so much so that I sometimes hardly have enough to commend my soul to God when I need it most.”26

  The Jew and the “Worshipers of the Cross”

  The number of popular publications talking about the Jesuits resident in Beijing grew along with Ricci’s renown. Some concentrated on the story of the priests’ arrival and on vivid, admiring descriptions of the gifts brought for the emperor. Other more scholarly works examined the scientific, moral, and philosophical subjects addressed by Ricci in his writings, citing entire passages and reproducing parts of his maps of the world. The Jesuit often noted that the authors talked about him without even having read his works or met him. The Jesuits were described more or less as follows in a highly popular publication in vernacular Chinese entitled “Things I have heard”:

  They are two Westerners, one called Matteo Ricci and the other Cattaneo. Both have prominent foreheads, deep-set eyes, pink faces, and grey beards. They arrived in the Guangdong province after an eight-year voyage and stayed there for ten years. They built a house worth many thousands of taels and then abandoned it and traveled to Nanjing, each holding a bamboo umbrella. There an official of the water department possessed a house haunted by many evil demons, and anyone who entered it died immediately. These two men chased the demons out and lived there with no harm done to them. They say that in the West there is an extraordinary lord called the Lord of Heaven who loves good by nature, eats no meat, and has nothing to do with women. The entire country honors him as its sovereign. As regards customs, they esteem friendship and do not cultivate solitude. On arriving in the Middle Kingdom, they began studying the classics and histories day and night, and so have published many observations about friendship. It is impossible to count precisely all the precious objects they have with them. These are the strangest: a painting of the Lord of Heaven whose eyes follow you everywhere, a clock that rings the hours and is very precise for the minutes and quarters, a prism that makes even dead trees and broken down walls shine with the five colors as soon as it starts glowing before the eyes, a square harpsichord with strings of iron that makes sounds even when no one touches it and is played with a bamboo rod that moves over the strings.27

  Even though Ricci made ironic fun of the “falsehoods,” “bizarre lies,” and “fantastic, unheard-of things” that he chanced to read, he was pleased to be mentioned together with his companions, as he believed that his reputation furthered the cause of Christianity: “They spread so many true and false reports that they will always be remembered for all the centuries in these lands, and mostly in a good way.”28

  The book with the description of the Jesuits had been read by a shidafu who visited the missionaries’ home while he was in Beijing to sit the imperial examination. The man was not of the Chinese race but was a Jew named Ai Tian from the Henan province in central China. Being under the impression that the Jesuits shared his faith, he interpreted the images of Mary, Jesus, and John the Baptist in the chapel as depictions of Rebecca and her sons Jacob and Esau. Ai Tian called himself an Israelite and did
not know the term “Jew.” When Ricci showed him his copy of the Biblia Regia, he recognized the Hebrew writing even though he was unable to read it.

  This unexpected visit was a precious source of information. Ai Tian told Ricci that there were many Jewish families in the city of Kaifeng, where he lived; that they were allowed to practice their religion in a great synagogue that had just been restored; and that there were also Jews at Hangzhou in the Zhejiang province and in other Chinese cities. He said that the Jews had arrived in the Middle Kingdom five centuries earlier and that the Chinese made no distinction between Muslims and Jews, even though the latter “loathed” the followers of Mohammed and hated being mixed up with them. He confessed that he was not a devout follower of his religion and that, having studied the Confucian philosophy in order to sit the imperial examinations, he would abandon his faith with no regret if he passed. He informed Ricci that the Chinese term Huihui, used by extension for the followers of all foreign religions, originally indicated an ethnic minority of the Muslim persuasion descended from Arabian and Persian immigrants,29 reference being made to diet in order to differentiate the various religions. Saracens were thus Huihui that did not eat pork, Jews were Huihui that did not eat sinews (a reference to their particular way of butchering meat), and the descendants of Christians were Huihui that did not eat animals with hooves, because it was not their habit to use horses or mules for food. The latter were also known as Huihui of the number ten because of the similarity between the Chinese character for ten and a cross.

  Ricci asked Ai Tian if he could confirm what he had heard from Muslim merchants about the existence on Chinese soil of Christian communities whose members were called “worshipers of the cross.”30 Ai Tian answered that there were some in Kaifeng and in other parts of China, characterized by their practice of making the sign of the cross over everything they ate or drank and marking their children’s foreheads with a small black cross. His somewhat vague information was that they had been living in China for a long time and had distinguished themselves in the past as fearsome warriors. Fear of persecution had, however, caused most of them to abandon their ancient faith and to adopt Chinese religions or Islam.

  Ricci was happy to learn that there were still communities of Christian origin in China, as he had always hoped, and he realized that Marco Polo had told the truth when he had claimed that there were Christians in Cathay, unquestionably in large numbers during the Yuan era. He hastened to inform Superior General Acquaviva in a letter dated July 26, 1605,31 which also contained yet another exposition of his thesis that China and Cathay were certainly the same country, albeit with some confusion about the dates and names of the leaders of the Mongol invasions.

  Three years after his meeting with the Jew, Ricci asked a Chinese Jesuit to trace these “worshipers of the cross” in the hope of being able to receive them into the Catholic Church. The mission proved a complete failure, however, as they had now forgotten their ancient religion, they wished to be considered Chinese in all respects, and they were afraid that contact with foreigners could prove harmful.

  Equally disappointing was Ricci’s contact with the rabbi. When the Jesuit wrote that he had the books both of the Old Testament and of the Gospel, which talked about the coming of Christ, the rabbi stated in his reply that the Messiah had yet to appear on earth and that the Jews would have many centuries to wait. He did, however, very obligingly offer the Jesuit the place of leader of the synagogue on condition that he altered his diet and moved to Kaifeng.

  Notes

  1. OS II, p. 262.

  2. See the section “Examinations and Baptisms” in this chapter. FR, book V, ch. III, p. 308.

  3. FR, book V, ch. III, p. 308. Ricci’s remark led to the three most important Chinese converts, namely Li Zhizao, Xu Guangqi, and Yang Tingyun, being referred to as the “Three Pillars of Christianity in China.”

  4. W. J. Peterson, “Why Did They Become Christians? . . . ,” in Charles E. Ronan and Bonnie B. C. Oh (eds.), op. cit., p. 146. The translation of this passage is more emphatic in the Fonti Ricciane: “a veil had suddenly been torn apart and all indecision vanished.” FR, book V, ch. II, p. 288, no. 3.

  5. W. J. Peterson, “Why Did They Become Christians? . . . ,” in Charles E. Ronan and Bonnie B. C. Oh (eds.), op. cit., p. 147.

  6. FR, book IV, ch. XIX, p. 252.

  7. Letter to Girolamo Costa, May 10, 1605; OS II, p. 273.

  8. Letter to Girolamo Costa, p. 253.

  9. Letter to Fabio de Fabii, May 9, 1605; ibid., p. 263.

  10. Letter to Fabio de Fabii.

  11. Letter to Giulio and Girolamo Alaleoni, July 26, 1605; OS II, p. 295.

  12. Letter to Fabio de Fabii, May 9, 1605; OS II, p. 266.

  13. Letter to Fabio de Fabii.

  14. Cf. Christofer Spalatin, “Matteo Ricci’s Use of Epictetus’ Enchiridion,” in Gregorianum 56 (1975): pp. 551–57.

  15. Letter to Ludovico Maselli, February 1605; OS II, p. 257.

  16. Letter to Ludovico Maselli.

  17. FR, book V, ch. II, pp. 286–87.

  18. FR, book V, ch. VIII, p. 356.

  19. Letter to Girolamo Costa, May 10, 1605; OS II, p. 274.

  20. Letter to Girolamo Costa, p. 285.

  21. Cf. H. Bernard, op. cit., ch. IV.

  22. Letter to João Alvares, May 12, 1605; OS II, pp. 284–85.

  23. FR, book V, ch. VIII, pp. 353–54.

  24. Letter to Ludovico Maselli, February 1605; OS II, p. 258.

  25. Letter to Ludovico Maselli, p. 273.

  26. Letter to Fabio de Fabii, May 9, 1605; ibid., p. 262.

  27. FR, book V, ch. IV, p. 316, no. 1.

  28. FR, book V, ch. IV, p. 315.

  29. Hui is the name still used for one of the Muslim ethnic minorities in China today.

  30. This term was used officially for the first time during the Yuan era in an imperial decree of 1289 to designate the followers of various Christian churches in China. The earliest “worshipers of the cross” were the Nestorians, the first Christians to penetrate China from the Byzantine empire through Persia in the seventh century and settle there permanently until the fall of the Mongol dynasty.

  31. OS II, pp. 291–92.

  Chapter Sixteen

  v

  Euclid Becomes Chinese

  Beijing, 1606–1607

  The Master said, “Reviewing the old as a means of realizing the new—such a person can be considered a teacher.”

  —Confucius, Analects (2, 11)

  Nothing could be done without this book [Euclid’s Elements], not least because its proofs are so clear.1

  —Matteo Ricci

  The Death of Valignano

  Alessandro Valignano, who had done more than anyone else to inspire and encourage Ricci, decided to visit the China mission and see the results obtained for himself. Despite their constant contact by letter, Ricci had met him only once since his arrival in the East and had long been awaiting this moment. Now he would finally be able to take justified pride in showing his superior and particular point of reference the progress that had been achieved in the twenty-two years since the founding of the first residence in Zhaoqing.

  Valignano’s visit was to take in the three residences in Shaozhou, Nanchang, and Nanjing before culminating in the capital. He would be accompanied by Lazzaro Cattaneo, now resident in Macao since 1603 after moving there from Shaozhou to recover after an illness, and Francisco Martines, the eldest of the Chinese lay brothers. The missionaries prepared Valignano’s journey with the utmost care. Xu Guangqi used his influence to obtain the indispensable permits to travel through the provinces and cities, and Minister Wang Zhongming secured authorization for the Visitor of Missions to travel at the state’s expense, receiving horses and provisions at the posting stations and transport on vessels along the Imperial Canal free of charge.

 
The letters with the permits were entrusted to Martines, who set off from Nanjing for Macao, where Valignano was awaiting a ship from Japan carrying valuable objects and silver for the missions, which was expected to arrive in February or March.

  When everything was ready, the kidney problems from which Valignano had been suffering for some years suddenly returned, and he died on January 20, 1606, at the age of sixty-six. The China mission was plunged into mourning. Like Frances Xavier forty-four years earlier, he had arrived on the threshold of China but had been unable to enter. As Ricci wrote with great sorrow in his history of the mission, “His death was felt and wept over by the fathers of the two Christian missions in Japan and China.”2

  Ricci knew that there would not be another Valignano, a superior with such a thorough understanding of the peculiarities and difficulties of missionary work in China and with such a capacity to inspire him “with great love and hard work.” He felt like an orphan without this support, as he wrote to Superior General Acquaviva,3 and he wondered how the gap could ever be filled.

  While the Jesuits were still grief stricken at the death of their superior, some tragic events took place in Macao that endangered the continued existence of the missions in China. The peace of the city on the coast, where Portuguese merchants and priests of various congregations lived alongside the local population, had always been balanced on a knife edge. The Chinese fear of foreigners as potential invaders was held in check so as to allow trade, but it remained a latent source of friction.