Matteo Ricci (23 page)

Withdrawal to the South

The missionaries left Beijing on November 5, 1598. Their journey south was slow because their junk was not as fast as the minister’s, and they had no right of way at the locks.

Unable to remain idle for long, Ricci decided to occupy the time by preparing a new version of the Chinese-Portuguese dictionary. In order to make it more complete than the one compiled in Zhaoqing with Ruggieri, he added phonetic transcriptions of the Chinese words and specified the rules for the correct pronunciation of the five tones with the aid of Cattaneo, who knew music and had good ear, and Sebastião, who spoke excellent Mandarin. Ricci hoped that the new dictionary would help missionaries avoid the “great confusion” initially encountered in the study of Mandarin.

They reached Linqing, on the border of the Shandong and Hebei provinces, after a month. It was now December, and the temperatures had fallen dramatically. The Grand Canal was beginning to freeze over, and it would soon be impossible to sail any farther. Ricci decided to continue alone by horse, leaving Cattaneo and the others in the town to wait for the thaw and take care of the gifts for the emperor, which it would have been imprudent to transport overland.

Ricci traveled with the sole aim of finding a safe place to stay in the south for as long as it took to plan his return to Beijing. He felt that this was a temporary withdrawal and that the goal was finally within his reach. His books had enjoyed an unexpectedly large circulation and had earned him a solid reputation, and his friends in high places at the imperial court would help when the time was ripe. After many years in China, he had learned that nothing was as simple as it appeared to be. Known causes did not always produce the effects envisaged, and the direct approach was not always the most effective way to attain an objective. It was sometimes necessary to take one step back and then perhaps to wait. Ricci had to behave like a Chinese sage seeking to accomplish a difficult project. The way was to set out in the desired direction and then allow events to take their course, making no attempt to bend reality to his own wishes but instead benefitting from the natural evolution of things. Still more patience was required.

Preferring not to return to Nanchang and realizing that it would be dangerous to stay in Nanjing on his own, he decided to head for Qu Taisu’s hometown of Suzhou, situated in the southern part of the Jiangsu province southeast of Nanjing and slightly west of present-day Shanghai. This would enable him to remain in the vicinity of Nanjing, which he considered the best starting point for Beijing, and to benefit from his friend’s help and protection.

He traveled for a long time in very bad weather with an icy wind sweeping down from Mongolia across the rough country roads. In order to proceed more quickly, he alternated the use of a horse and a sort of “one-wheeled wagon” carrying one or two passengers and pushed by bearers, which proved very comfortable. This strange vehicle was one of the many forms taken by the Chinese wheelbarrow, a device unknown in Europe before the eleventh century but widely used in China from the first century in different shapes and sizes and for a whole variety of military and civilian purposes.
15

The climate improved as he left the province of Shandong for Jiangsu and continued south. The landscape also changed. Tea plantations alternated with rice paddies, and water became the dominant element with the system of lakes, canals, and rivers crisscrossing the vast Yangtze delta. Ricci took little notice of this, having fallen ill as a result of the cold and fatigue he suffered farther north, but he decided to press on to his destination in his feverish state. One month after leaving Linqing, he finally arrived in Suzhou, called “
Sugiu
” by Marco Polo and described in his
Travels
as the “city of six thousand stone bridges.” Situated on the banks of Lake Tai Hu and also known as the “Venice of the East” by virtue of its system of canals, it was regarded as an earthly paradise along with Hangzhou: “Paradise is in the sky, Hangzhou and Suzhou are on the earth.” This ancient saying, where the word “paradise” refers to the Buddhist and Taoist realm of bliss in the next world, is still used in China today. In the Ming era, the city was a flourishing commercial center enjoying a strategic position at the mouth of the Imperial Canal and famed as a holiday resort for officials of high rank. Ricci did not even spend one day there, however. On being informed that Qu Taisu had moved temporarily to the neighboring town of Danyang, slightly southeast of Nanjing, he summoned up his last reserves of strength and succeeded in making his way there. Deeply concerned about his master’s desperate condition, Qu Taisu received him with great hospitality, giving up his own bed for him to sleep in and looking after him like a father until he had completely recovered. Having received one of Ricci’s precious prisms as a token of gratitude, he had a special silver case made so that he could wear it around his neck. Qu Taisu also thought of selling it in order to pay off the debts he had run up at the time of his obsession with alchemy, but he changed his mind on hearing that Ricci intended to give an identical prism to the emperor, as it would hardly be fitting for something presented to Wanli as an object of exceptional rarity to be in the possession of another. He therefore kept the prism until Ricci had delivered his gifts to the Son of Heaven and then sold it for a sum equivalent to five hundred
scudi
, which he used to pay some of his debts.

When the Jesuit was able to resume his activities, he set off with Qu Taisu for Nanjing to ask the most influential dignitaries for the indispensable letters of permission to stay in Suzhou. He entered the second capital of China for the third time in January 1599 together with his friend.

The two men took temporary lodgings in a temple situated in the center of the city and went to visit Wang Zhongming, with whom Qu Taisu was also well acquainted. The minister had returned to his palace after the fruitless trip to Beijing and was still waiting to be recalled to the capital.

Notes

1. Letter to Claudio Acquaviva, October 13, 1596; OS II, p. 228.

2. Letter to Giulio Fuligatti, October 12, 1596; OS II, p. 217.

3. Letter to Girolamo Costa, October 15, 1596; OS II, p. 231.

4. Letter to Claudio Acquaviva, October 13, 1596; OS II, p. 225.

5. Letter to Antonio Maria Ricci, October 13, 1596; OS II, p. 219.

6. OS II, p. 218, no. 1.

7. Letter to Claudio Acquaviva, October 13, 1596; OS II, p. 228.

8. As attested, for example, by the Jesuit Sabatino de Ursis, who joined Ricci in Beijing in 1607 (FR, book IV, ch. I, p. 5, no. 3).

9. See chapter 12 (“The Solemn Entrance into Beijing”).

10. Letter to Lelio Passionei, September 9, 1597; OS II, pp. 234 ff.

11. See P. Buckley Ebrey, op. cit., p. 198.

12. T. Brook, op. cit., p. 48.

13. FR, book IV, ch. II, p. 28.

14. FR, book IV, ch. II, p. 30.

15. R. Temple, op. cit., p. 85.

v

Nanjing, 1599

The Tao produced One; One produced Two; Two produced Three; Three produced All things. All things leave behind them the Obscurity (out of which they have come), and go forward to embrace the Brightness (into which they have emerged), while they are harmonized by the Breath of Vacancy.

—
Tao Te Ching
, (42)
1

There are men from a foreign land . . . who have invented the doctrine of the Lord of Heaven. . . . They say the Lord of Heaven has no body, no color and no voice. . . . How can he govern ministers and peoples, give orders, grant rewards, and inflict punishment? Even though these people are intelligent, they have not read the Buddhist sutras. It is therefore hardly surprising that their reasoning should be faulty.

—Zhu Hong,
Tianshuo
(“Explanation of Heaven”)
2

Social Life in Nanjing

Ricci was relieved to note on walking through the streets of Nanjing that the suspicion of foreigners encountered during his two previous visits had come to an end with the war in Korea. The death of the shogun Toyotomi Hideyoshi, supreme commander of the Japanese army, in September 1598 was followed by the withdrawal of the invaders from the occupied territories, and fear gave way to a lively atmosphere.

The minister received Ricci and Qu Taisu with the greatest respect and insisted on their staying in his palace for the New Year celebrations coinciding with the appearance of the first new moon of the lunar year on January 27, 1599. Marking the beginning of the Spring Festivity, this event was deeply felt and celebrated with all the splendor of which the Chinese were capable. All work ceased for a fortnight, and people poured into the temples and the parks, where fairs and shows were organized for adults and children.

Ricci was thus able to witness the celebrations from the privileged vantage point of the home of an important dignitary. Together with the mandarin’s family, he enjoyed the customary firework display, regarded as indispensable in accordance with age-old beliefs of driving away evil spirits with explosions. The Chinese were true masters of the art of pyrotechnics, and Ricci was impressed by their extraordinary skill. On beholding the fantastic spectacle of multicolored Catherine wheels, glittering cascades, flowers, and fruit repeated at a frenzied pace night after night for many hours, he estimated that the Chinese consumed as much saltpeter in a fortnight as the Europeans in two years of war. Completely unknown in Europe before the Middle Ages, saltpeter, or potassium nitrate, had been well known in China, where it was found in abundance, since the third century if not earlier, and the invention of gunpowder, obtained by mixing saltpeter with sulfur and charcoal, was yet another instance of Chinese primacy with respect to Europe.

The long period of festivities came to its customary end with the picturesque Feast of Lanterns, when all the streets and buildings were hung with red lanterns of paper or silk in all shapes and sizes. Used in China since ancient times, lanterns were considered a symbol of fertility, and women sought good fortune by walking in their glow, which was also believed to help the spirits of ancestors find their way to the next world.

Spending the New Year celebrations with the minister gave Ricci an opportunity to meet many of Wang’s colleagues, who were also his guests, and to see how animated social life was in the most exclusive circles. He realized from the deference he was shown that the minister had already spoken of him to the officials as a man of culture and had told them about the gifts for the emperor, which he had enjoyed the privilege of seeing in advance.

Noting that the presence of Li Madou added to the city’s luster and that his friends were impressed by the Jesuit’s learning, the minister endeavored to persuade him to move to Nanjing and ordered his secretaries to inquire whether there was any property for sale. The news that the minister’s foreign friend was looking for a house spread very quickly, and many offers were made in the space of just a few days. Paradoxically enough, at the very time when he no longer had any intention of doing so, everyone was urging Ricci to stay in Nanjing, the city from which he had been expelled four years earlier. On weighing up the situation, the Jesuit decided that his warm welcome was a sign of God’s will and that he should not let slip such a favorable opportunity. When asked for his advice, Qu Taisu encouraged him to stay in Nanjing and promised to help him meet the most important people there. The minister of rites was delighted to hear that Xitai was going to stay and offered him temporary accommodation in one of his own mansions. Ricci declined the offer and rented a house, but he accepted some items of furniture from Wang. He preferred to postpone the purchase of a residence for the mission until he was joined by Cattaneo, who was still in Linqing awaiting the thaw.

As soon as he had settled in, the Jesuit embarked with Qu Taisu on a series of courtesy visits to dignitaries capable of facilitating his stay in the city and helping him obtain an audience with the emperor. Even though he already had some experience dealing with the
guan
, he preferred to follow his friend’s advice and guidance. The higher the social level, the greater the subtlety required in the art of
guanxi
.

Qu Taisu took Ricci to visit the
juren
Li Xinzhai, greatly respected as the son of a governor and well known in the city as a tutor and a writer commissioned to produce literary compositions for weddings, funerals, promotions, and transfers. As Qu Taisu also enjoyed a certain reputation as an author for hire and Ricci was now known as a man of culture, Li Xinzhai saw them as possible competitors and took a dim view of their presence in Nanjing. Qu Taisu assured him that neither of them were in search of employment and asked him to take Li Madou under his wing. This shrewd move had the desired effect, and Li Xinzhai became a good friend.

The visit to one official of very great power, the author of philosophical works and a speaker at the cultural debates then in fashion among literati, was very cordial indeed. The mandarin, who had read the treatise on friendship, was delighted to hear that Ricci intended to stay in Nanjing and observed that there were already so many Muslims in the city that he could see no objection to the presence of someone representing another foreign form of worship. He evidently felt no distrust toward an unknown religion. In his initial contacts with these high officials, Ricci had in any case taken care to make only the vaguest of references to any characteristics of Christianity that the Chinese might not readily understand and preferred to present himself above all as a scientist, a moral thinker, and a man of culture. Ricci made the best possible use of the strategy of cultural accommodation so as to avoid giving offense to scholars and win them over to his religion by indirect means, interpreting the approach to missionary work developed by Valignano with real insight and a deep understanding of Chinese society.

The Jesuit was aware that the dignitaries treated him with respect because he was a friend of the minister of rites, but he was also convinced that the good impression he managed to make during the visits served in turn to reinforce the minister’s regard for him. This mechanism worked so well that Ricci saw it as a divine stratagem to further his religious mission: “God chose to make use of a splendid subterfuge . . . to make matters go more smoothly.”
3

As a friend of the minister of rites, Ricci was invited to a number of official ceremonies, where he mixed with the
shidafu
and
guan
as though he were one of them. The minister’s sons took him to the Temple of Heaven at the beginning of March to hear the rehearsals for the concert to be held there shortly, on the occasion of the rites in honor of Confucius.

The Temple of Heaven, the most important place of worship in the city, was a complex of buildings representing the universe surrounded by walls and a moat. The component edifices, all sharing the same basic structure but differing in size, were set in vast courtyards with century-old trees that no one was ever allowed to prune. Reached by climbing flights of marble steps, the main building was a circular temple embellished with red, dark blue, and gold decorations and representing the celestial sphere. Like all the others, it was adorned with cosmological symbols, and its columns, steps, pillars, and stone slabs were all in multiples of nine, a number thought to play a key role in the organization of the world and hence recurrent in the Chinese tradition.

During the period when Nanjing was the capital, the emperor went to the temple twice a year to celebrate the rites ensuring harmony between the heavens and the earth and good harvests. After fasting for three days, the Son of Heaven would leave the imperial palace clad in yellow ceremonial robes adorned with dragons. Accompanied by a procession of dignitaries, elephants, eunuchs, musicians, and soldiers with banners representing the constellations of the zodiac, the planets, the holy mountains, and the rivers, he then proceeded solemnly along a route running from north to south. All the houses on the way were required to keep their doors and windows closed. Once inside the precincts of the temple, the emperor entered the Palace of Abstinence, where he spent the whole night purifying his body before performing the propitiatory rites. The following morning he proceeded to the circular altar to kneel down and make offerings before the empty throne of the Supreme Lord of the August Heaven placed beside his own. After the capital moved to Beijing, where a second and still more imposing Temple of Heaven was built, the imperial ceremonies were also transferred, and those in Nanjing were toned down.

Ricci went to the temple to listen to the music, an indispensable ingredient of all the most important ceremonies, which was performed as usual by Taoist monks. Music played a very important role in Chinese rites, being regarded by Confucius as endowed with moral value and capable of establishing peace and harmony among people. Different instruments were used for different types of events. The range included percussion, wind, and stringed instruments made of materials like bronze, leather, wood, stone, bamboo, and silk. Some had vaguely similar Western counterparts, such as drums of wood and leather, flutes, harmonicas, lutes, and psalteries. Others were typically Chinese, like the imposing carillon of bronze bells of different notes and sizes set in a wooden frame and played by percussion. This instrument of ancient origin was first produced in the fourth century
bc
, if not earlier, when the Chinese were already capable of casting bells of particular notes with a perfection that would have been considered extraordinary in the West at the time. Other characteristically Chinese instruments included the lithophone, consisting of slabs of stone hung on a wooden frame, and tiger-shaped percussion devices.

Ricci observed the more original instruments with great interest but found “no consonance” in the way they were played together and derived no pleasure from the concert. Unable to appreciate the music of another tradition,
4
he was convinced that the “art of harmony” had been lost forever in China.

An Argument with a Buddhist

Ricci’s success in scholarly circles was due to the fame of his writings, his scientific expertise, and his knowledge of Confucian philosophy, something “unheard of in China” that never failed to astonish his listeners. This responsiveness to the culture of his intellectual friends stopped at Confucianism, however, and included no aspect of the Buddhist and Taoist doctrines, despite his awareness that a good many Confucian literati had sympathies with both. Some
shidafu
even professed a kind of religion combining elements of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism
5
that had enjoyed considerable popularity in Nanjing and the Jiangsu province. Referred to disapprovingly by Ricci as followers of the “three sects,” its believers worshipped statues of Confucius, Buddha, and Lao-tzu placed side by side, an authentic abomination in the Jesuit’s eyes.

Despite his aversion for religious syncretism, the Jesuit was involved in friendly discussions with followers of the “three sects,” such as Jiao Hong, a high-ranking official temporarily suspended from office and living in Nanjing. It was through him that Ricci met the famous and highly controversial character Li Zhi, a
guan
who had left the bureaucracy and his position as prefect to devote himself to the study of Buddhism. This renowned scholar and intellectual paid Ricci a visit, complimented him on his treatise on friendship, and made him the gift of a fan decorated with verses in his honor. There was a widespread tradition of paying respects in the form of verses, normally written in books of visits. The slender volumes containing such poems were kept by their recipients as evidence of their social success, and Ricci had collected so many that, as he wrote with great satisfaction in his history of the mission, they would have made a bigger book than the
Aeneid
if he had put them all together.
6

Li Zhi was greatly impressed by the personality of the Western sage and described him as follows: “While his extraordinary refinement is innate, his outward manner is of the simplest. I have never met his equal. [Unlike Ricci] people err through undue rigidity or obligingness; they make a show of their learning or are of limited intelligence.” Despite his great admiration for the man, the philosopher expressed misgivings as to the reasons for Ricci’s presence in China: “I do not really understand what he has come to do in this country. . . . I think that it would be more than foolish if his aim were to replace the teachings of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius with his own.”
7

Meetings between leading figures in Chinese culture and Li Madou, the sage putting forward a new worldview and a new religion, inevitably involved the risk of heated discussions, and the Jesuit did in fact find himself reluctantly drawn into a particularly bitter argument. Together with Qu Taisu, he had made the acquaintance of Li Ruzhen, a
shidafu
with Buddhist sympathies, and had engaged in some friendly exchange of views. In the course of one of the customary philosophical debates held in the city, Li Ruzhen clashed with the orthodox Confucianist Liu Douxu, who accused him of not holding the Chinese state philosophy in due consideration and cited Li Madou, Xitai, in public as an example of a wise man in favor of Confucianism and hostile to Buddhism. The echoes of this had yet to die down when Li Ruzhen invited the Jesuit to a banquet. Unwilling to get embroiled in some inopportune dispute, Ricci declined at first on the grounds that he was fasting, but he felt obliged to accept when Li Ruzhen assured him that he would be served special dishes in accordance with his diet.