Zhong Wen: This is not all. Matteo Ricci also had a direct mentor and path-builder—Alexandre Valignani (1538–1606), the Jesuit Visitor to the Far East. After observation and reflection, Valignani proposed an entirely new missionary strategy—one that later proved profoundly influential. His idea was not to ‘Portuguese-ize’ converts, but to ‘Sinicize’ the missionaries: requiring missionaries coming to China to learn the Chinese language and classics, to dress in Confucian scholar’s robes, and to adopt Chinese names. Ricci became the living practitioner and pioneer of this “cultural accommodation” policy. He adopted a method of ‘scholarly evangelization’; he respected Chinese ancestral and Confucian rites; and he made appropriate adjustments to Catholic liturgy based on China’s actual circumstances.

Because of this, a bridge was built between Chinese and Western civilizations. In the following two centuries, hundreds of Western missionaries were able to enter China, enabling comprehensive exchanges between the two great civilizations of East and West. The ‘Eastern transmission of Western learning’ (Xixue Dongjian) played a landmark role in Chinese scientific history (astronomy, mathematics, geography, geology, cartography, meteorology, hydraulics, mechanics, physics, optics, engineering, architecture, chemistry, military engineering, papermaking and printing, human anatomy, Western medicine, botany and zoology, brewing, etc.), in art history (painting including oil painting and sculpture; music including instruments, music theory, composition; garden art; also glass, enamel, snuff-bottle craft, etc.), and in the humanities (ethics, philosophy, linguistics, psychology, logic, etc.), and in some fields even introduced entirely new disciplines from the ground up.

Bo Ya: That is certainly true. As for the following claim made by some people, I believe it is an exaggeration—

“In almost every major academic discipline of modern China, if one traces the development of the field, one cannot avoid the influence of the Eastern transmission of Western learning. From the moment Chinese children enter primary school, the pinyin they learn in Chinese class, the vertical algorithm in arithmetic, the explanations of solar and lunar eclipses in science class, the knowledge of the five continents and four oceans in geography; and later in secondary school, plane geometry, trigonometry, logarithmic functions, the lever and pulley in physics—all originate from that period of cultural exchange. Admittedly, Ricci came to China primarily to spread Catholicism, but in service of this mission he unintentionally—sometimes intentionally—disseminated Western scientific culture. Like a bee whose purpose is to gather nectar but ends up carrying pollen, it is no exaggeration to say that Ricci, as the first and foundational figure of the Eastern transmission of Western learning, can truly be regarded as the foreigner who contributed most to Chinese civilization.”

Zhong Wen: Why do you say this is an exaggeration?

Bo Ya: Because this diffusion of knowledge initiated by Ricci and others was actually interrupted for one or two centuries. The reintroduction of Western learning in the nineteenth century came through the Opium Wars and the subsequent Self-Strengthening Movement.

Zhong Wen: Indeed. During the Qing dynasty, the Kangxi Emperor still referred to Ricci’s cultural accommodation principles as “Ricci’s rules,” which missionaries in China were required to follow. Today, people emphasize Ricci’s role as an “ambassador of Sino-Western scientific and cultural exchange,” but seldom mention his missionary purpose.

Bo Ya: But Ricci did not appear out of nowhere. Before him, the Jesuit Michele Ruggieri (1543–1607), known as the pioneer and founder of Sino-Western cultural exchange, is rightly called Ricci’s forerunner.

Zhong Wen: Exactly. In 1580, he established the first school in China for foreigners to learn Chinese in Macau. He called it the “School of Scripture and Language,” and Ricci later referred to it as the “St. Martin School of Classical Language.” Many missionaries, Ricci included, studied Chinese there. By 1586 at the latest, Ruggieri was compiling the Portuguese–Chinese Dictionary, the first Chinese–Western dictionary ever made, opening a new tradition for Westerners studying Chinese. Between late 1581 and 1582, Ruggieri translated into Latin a Chinese primer—some say the Three-Character Classic, others the Thousand Character Classic, and still others propose different texts. Ruggieri spent around four years composing The True Record of the Lord of Heaven (Tianzhu Shilu) in Chinese, the earliest known Chinese-language work written by a Westerner. And while many know that during Ricci’s stay in Zhaoqing he created the Chinese-annotated world map Complete Map of the Mountains and Seas, few know that Ruggieri had earlier collected Chinese map materials and drawn provincial maps. After returning to Europe, he compiled the Atlas of China (1606), presenting China’s geography to the West for the first time. Even more astonishing to scholars, he translated the Confucian Four Books into Spanish and Latin—work he began while in China and continued after returning to Europe—thus introducing Confucian classics to the West for the first time.

After the completion of the Chongxi Pagoda, Ruggieri exchanged poems with Wang Pan and composed a poem titled “On the Pagoda,” as well as an allegorical poem, “The Parable of Inescapable Fate,” borrowing the Zengzi saying “What proceeds from you will return to you” from Mencius. Ruggieri was the first missionary in the Ming dynasty to compose poetry in Chinese. Was this cultural identification a strategy or did it come from the heart?

He said: “Soon we shall become Chinese, so that Christ may win the Chinese.” When he traveled through Meiling in Shaoguan on his way to Shaoxing in Zhejiang, a light rain dampened his robe, and upon reaching the summit, he was inspired to compose the poem “Crossing Meiling”:

Suddenly climbing the ridge so high it seems to pierce the sky,
One sees indeed the grandeur of Meiguan Pass.
Today a wandering monk passes through,
Glad to feel the transforming rain upon his long robe.

Another poem, “Written at Baishui Village in Guangxi”, describes the scene of villagers returning at dusk, and seems to have been composed spontaneously:

Encircled by green trees and blue mountains flows White Water,
Orioles cry in tangled willows, swallows fly in pairs.
Thatch eaves and tiled roofs beside the clear stream,
At sunset villagers return to their home.

After mastering Chinese writing, Ruggieri read many classical texts. His Chinese poems, his True Record of the Lord of Heaven, and his mapmaking all show his identification with and admiration for Chinese culture, motivated both by strategic necessity and by genuine scholarly interest.

Bo Ya: Ruggieri’s True Record of the Lord of Heaven is especially groundbreaking—not only the first Chinese Catholic catechism, but also the first Chinese-language work written by a Westerner.

Zhong Wen: Ruggieri completed and printed the True Record of the Lord of Heaven in 1584—the first Chinese-language work written by a Westerner. In its introduction, he says that the work expresses gratitude to the Chinese who had shown him such passion; since he could not give them gold or jewels, he would give them “truth.” Ruggieri highly praises the Confucian virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and faith as five eternal virtues, and printed the corresponding Latin translations alongside the Chinese characters on the book’s cover. The text introduced into Chinese for the first time terms such as “Lord of Heaven” (Tianzhu) for Deus, “heaven,” “devil,” “atonement,” “hell,” “Adam,” “holy water,” “original sin,” “worship,” “world,” “truth,” etc. Its language is simple, its reasoning clear. Twenty years later, in 1604, Ricci wrote The True Meaning of the Lord of Heaven (Tianzhu Shiyi), and Ruggieri’s True Record was banned and replaced. Yet its historical role in Christianity and in Sino-Western cultural exchange cannot be erased.

While staying in Spain, Ruggieri presented a manuscript to King Philip II—the Spanish translation of the Four Books, the first time the Confucian canon was introduced to Europe as the “Four Books.” After returning home, he translated the Four Books into Latin. Why did he undertake such laborious work?

Ruggieri had long intended to translate the Four Books. After learning Chinese and reading the Confucian classics, their influence is visible in his poems, in his True Record, and in his admiration of Confucian virtues. His commitment was driven partly by the need to appeal to Chinese officials, but also by genuine intellectual respect. When translating the Analects, he wrote:

“About this book, Confucius’s disciple Zengzi said: When you first read the Analects, the teachings seem empty. After reading it once or twice more, you will find things you like. If you continue reading, you will find them excellent. If you persist until the end, your heart will be filled with great delight; even without realizing it, you will continue reading with eagerness.”

Bo Ya: This varies from person to person. When I read the Analects, I find it worldly and at times even vulgar—completely incomparable to the transcendent holiness of the Bible.

Zhong Wen: Ruggieri believed that reading the Analects brings joy and life insight. Presenting his Spanish translation of the Four Books to Philip II indeed carried some display of Chinese learning, but his main motivation was to introduce Chinese classical culture and philosophy to Europe, demonstrating the mutual intelligibility of Chinese and Western civilizations. He believed that Confucian reason could lead Chinese people toward an understanding of Catholicism.

Ruggieri used the Comprehensive Gazetteer of Ming Offices and other sources to draw maps of China, compiling his Atlas of China in 1606. It illustrated the administrative, economic, and military features of the two capitals and thirteen provinces—details absent from earlier European maps of China. As the first provincial atlas of China in Western history, it ended the European practice of drawing China as a single map and initiated a tradition of missionary cartography. Scholars believe later cartographers, such as Martino Martini (known as the “Father of Chinese Geography in Europe”), consulted Ruggieri’s work.

Bo Ya: I am surprised that the Ming dynasty was open enough to allow foreigners to draw detailed maps of China. This would not be permitted in the Qing dynasty—or today.

Zhong Wen: Indeed. The Qing dynasty was founded by foreign conquerors and suffered severe insecurity, thus it erected barriers everywhere—just like the Communist regime now ruling China, which also came through foreign support and likewise suppresses human rights and obstructs China’s progress.

Bo Ya: What lessons can we draw from the “inheritance and development” relationship between Ruggieri and Ricci?

Zhong Wen: From the stories of Ruggieri and Ricci in China, we gain vivid insight into Chinese society, especially in the south. In the late Ming, particularly in the Pearl River Delta, the commodity economy was developed, and wage labor had already appeared in some towns and villages. Letters sent by missionaries back to Europe show the prosperity of Guangdong’s commerce and its mercantile ethos.

Local Guangdong officials also sometimes influenced Beijing’s foreign policy out of regional interests. This was far more open than the Qing. Due to increased foreign trade and contact, local officials tended to be more open-minded. Their handling of missionary affairs shows this. Ordinary people had mixed feelings—curiosity about Westerners and foreign goods, and some attempts to profit from them. Due to curiosity and profit motive, some troubled individuals exploited or cheated missionaries. But the Zhaoqing authorities generally upheld justice, without giving undue advantage to foreign missionaries. The role of local gentry—retired officials and clan elders—was also crucial in governance and in the safety of missionaries.

Bo Ya: Why, then, were Ruggieri’s many writings and translations suppressed by figures like Valignani, never allowed publication, and left to vanish as manuscripts?

Zhong Wen: Ruggieri was a tragic figure. He was the true founder of Catholic missionary work in China; the internal and external affairs of the Zhaoqing mission rested largely on his shoulders. Yet he was never made leader of the China mission. In his prime, he was ordered back to Europe and forbidden to return to China. Once there, he was separated forever from the China he loved. His Chinese writings, translations, and maps were not permitted publication. He personally brought Ricci into China, created conditions for Ricci to study Chinese, and cultivated many contacts for him. Yet for centuries, his image was overshadowed by Ricci’s towering reputation.

Bo Ya: It seems personnel politics determines success or failure everywhere.

Zhong Wen: Exactly. As a result, Ruggieri became merely an appendage to Ricci—his name often left unmentioned. The tragedy stems partly from his personality and vision, but also from the ecclesiastical structures he served. He had a strong sense of mission and was a man of action, reluctant to spend energy on cultivating superiors. His Spanish subjecthood also worked against him, as many scholars have noted.

Bo Ya: Fortunately, history remembers him—

Father Michele Ruggieri, courtesy name Fuchu, Jesuit missionary, jurist, and Sinologist, was the first Western missionary to enter mainland China in the Ming dynasty and a founder of European Sinology. In his True Record of the Lord of Heaven, he first introduced the term “Tianzhu” (Lord of Heaven).

Born in 1543 in Spinazzola in the Kingdom of Naples, he held doctorates in civil and canon law and served in the royal court. In 1572, at age twenty-nine, he joined the Jesuits in Rome and volunteered for the East Asian mission. He studied philosophy and theology at the University of Coimbra.

In March 1578 he left Europe, arriving in Goa in September and in Macau in July 1579. Following the instructions of Visitor Valignani, he worked diligently to learn Chinese, quickly mastering vocabulary and beginning the first Portuguese–Chinese dictionary. In December 1580 he entered Guangzhou for the first time with Portuguese merchants, meeting provincial officials. In 1582 he led Ricci and Pasio to Zhaoqing, establishing the “Temple of the Immortal Blossoms” as the first mission station. In 1585 he traveled with Michael Anton to Jiangxi and Shaoxing; in 1587 he visited Guangxi and Huguang. In 1588 he sailed from Macau to Rome with carved wooden printing blocks for a proposed petition requesting papal envoys be sent to China. In 1589 he arrived in Lisbon to warm reception, but soon the death of Pope Sixtus V halted his mission. He never returned to China.

During his final years in Europe, he translated the Great Learning into Latin and completed his Atlas of China, greatly enhancing Europe’s understanding of China. He died on May 11, 1607, in Salerno, Italy.