The accommodation of Confucianism articulated by Matteo Ricci (1552–1610) reflected a Neoscholastic approach in which rational agreement was the primary hinge of interreligious engagement. Ricci’s rationalism, however, was somewhat atypical among Jesuits of the late sixteenth century who often made overtures towards typology to explain the cultural and religious phenomena encountered in their missionary activities in East Asia and the New World. This article focuses on the writings of two Jesuits, the encyclopedist Antonio Possevino (1533–1611) and the China missionary Michele Ruggieri (1533–1611), who collaborated on the first European-language publication to include an extract of the Confucian corpus. It examines how Possevino adapts the manuscripts on China that Ruggieri provided him while in Rome in the early 1590s, and the tensions between the scholastic approach to evangelisation proposed in earlier chapters of the Bibliotheca selecta and the more extravagant typological strategies articulated in Ruggieri’s original manuscripts.
Drawing on the evidence of correspondence and draft papers preserved primarily in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, this essay gives a detailed account of the genesis and editing of one of seventeenth-century British antiquarianism’s foremost works: the revised version of William Camden’s Britannia, published in 1695. It pays particular attention to Edmund Gibson’s role as editor of the project and demonstrates the diversity of kinds of antiquarian scholarship to be found within the book (showing that William Camden offered a wide-ranging model for antiquarian practice). The article then situates the Britannia within the context of the religio-political divisions provoked by the Glorious Revolution, showing how Edmund Gibson attempted to navigate those divisions. It concludes by assessing the 1695 Britannia’s place within the history of antiquarian scholarship.
Perhaps nothing better exemplifies the scholarly character of the King James Version of the Bible than the decision to exclude Hugh Broughton from among its rank of translators. Scholars have generally accounted for this omission by pointing out Broughton’s volatile personality, with some claiming that the integrity of the translation enterprise suffered owing to the exclusion of the eminent Hebraist. This essay offers a more nuanced evaluation of Broughton’s persona and scholarship. Taking his erudition as a given, it seeks to evaluate Broughton’s scholarly output and the route that brought him to advocate a Bible translation against the backdrop of his vehement efforts to defend his writings against critics and his incessant quest for patronage.
The transformation of a play composed for the stage into a text printed to be read is a complex operation often mentioned by the playwrights themselves in the prefaces to the editions of their works. The printed publication could become the ‘place’ for perfecting what was performed on stage but it could also, for some authors, become a ‘place’ in which they defended their authorship through the control of the editions, even going so far, in the case of Carlo Goldoni (Venice 1707-Paris 1793), as to break the rules of the book trade. The author attempts to show how the construction of Goldoni’s authorship can be analyzed on three different levels: the expression of the author’s will; his claim for the right to publish his works himself and finally the representation of the figure of the author with the use of a different portrait for each edition.
This article offers a critical inquiry of the compilation of inscriptions and their transmission through books and manuscripts. It focuses on a bundle of hand-written slips which record about fifty-two inscriptions from early modern Brussels and which offers a glimpse on the preparatory work for publishing a town description or history. Its title suggests that the authors have used the peripatetic method, an approach in which an author, in the course of a stroll around a place, lists and describes any interesting buildings and sites he encounters. The method seems very appropriate when it comes to collect the texts of public inscriptions in a city or town, since it is generally thought that such texts on buildings could be read by every passer-by. Yet, nonetheless the authors of the Brussels’ compilation certainly recorded texts while walking around in town, they apparently copied texts from existing books as well.
In 1631 the Protestant town of Magdeburg fell to the Catholic Imperial army and was burned to the ground with casualties of some 20.000 people. This event reverberated far and wide in broadsheets and pamphlets, songs and images, and not only in Germany. The destruction of Magdeburg echoed in faraway Iceland, where pastor Guðmundur Erlendsson wrote a poem about the event. In this article we argue that news of the event (perhaps in the form of broadsides) must have arrived quite early to Iceland and travelled through the learned community around the diocese of Hólar in the northern region of Iceland. Furthermore, we explore the intentions of the poet and his observations and perceptions of the events. The poem was most likely intended to be sung or recited and was disseminated in handwritten copies. We explore the questions: Why produce a poem about atrocities in foreign lands? What was the lesson of the events in Magdeburg for peaceful Iceland?