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Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

Peter N. Miller and François Louis

Until very, very recently, mentioning “antiquarianism” to most histori- ans would elicit expressions of disdain and, even more tellingly, disas- sociation. If the achievements of modern scholarship represented the gains of disciplinarity and “expertise,” antiquarianism represented for many its opposite: prescienti c polymathy and dilettantism. Over the past two decades, however, perceptions have changed. Now, as the his- tory of scholarship has burgeoned into a respected eld of academic study, antiquarianism has emerged as an important precursor of the modern historical sciences and their associated museum culture. How, exactly, antiquaries and antiquarian learning are to be po- sitioned within early modern intellectual life remains a real puzzle. There is still no such thing as a familiar received history of antiquarian- ism that could help us resolve it, and even our knowledge of the mean- ing of antiquarianism itself remains tentative. This dim recognition of the important and troubling proximity of the old antiquarian and the modern historian is made still more complicated when we turn from European antiquarianism, for which of course the term was “coined,” to non-European antiquarianisms. 1 In this volume we restrict ourselves to a comparison with Chinese antiquarianism, probably the most sub- stantial of these traditions (though we acknowledge that were we able to undertake a still wider comparison, we might emerge with different emphases). As with the European tradition, in China too we confront a discontinuity between past and current practice, not least as a result of


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

the intense international scholarly exchange of the past century. But in addition we need also to re ect on whether “antiquarianism” is mean- ingfully applied to China at all. So, let us then begin with some de nitions, however general, in the interest of establishing a common analytical framework. What was antiquarianism? It is a European word adapted for a Euro- pean phenomenon. Strictly speaking, it refers to the investigations of the past conducted by antiquaries, scholars who studied antiquity through its material remains as well as through its texts (it was the material angle that was new). In the European Renaissance, the antiquarius was the lover of antiquity, and antiquitates referred to the systematic and comprehensive study of the ancient world—typically synchronic rather than diachronic in structure. Religion, law, calendars, clothing, games, food—all these were reconstructed, often painstakingly, from the otsam and jetsam of the past. Most of these scholars worked from textual remains, but some made the move to join the study of words to that of things. Antiquarian- ism was a form of study which contemporaries saw as related either to history or to pedantry (depending on their perspective). When was antiquarianism? The practice and, indeed, the term of art have their origins with Marcus Terrentius Varro in the rst century in Rome. And the roots of his practice may go back still further, as far, even, as fth-century BCE Greece. Chronologically, the great age of antiquar- ies is coincident with the European Renaissance. Indeed, it has even been suggested that the de nition of the Renaissance as the revival of antiquity really means a revival of the study of antiquity. Some of the most interesting antiquarian scholarship was done in the seventeenth century. But it is the eighteenth century, with the widening social appeal of anti- quarian scholarship, that saw its greatest cultural diffusion: in literature, architecture, and style. With transformed, and often marginalized, social prestige, the practice continued on into the nineteenth century and in less obvious ways continues still. Who were the antiquaries? In the Renaissance, the group was closely connected with the humanist movement and, especially, with philology, the study of texts in their historical context. In a way, one could view phi- lology and antiquarianism as complementary, each in its own way adding up to the recovery of the whole that was ancient civilization. Indeed, one could argue that the relationship between philology and antiqui- ties, or the material remains of the past, lies at the heart of humanism. There were many points of entry to this material; one of the greatest anti- quaries of the fteenth century was a self-taught merchant from Ancona



called “Cyriac,” while his contemporaries Poggio Bracciolini and Biondo Flavio were part of the dominant cultural-industrial complex of the time (the Roman Curia). By the second half of the sixteenth century, the im- pact of the revolution in legal study offered a whole other explanatory matrix for studying the past. Here, texts offered the best access to the past. At the same time, medical doctors, not least because of their neces- sarily empirical practice (they had to cure patients, not just write about Galen), drew close to the equally autoptic approach of antiquaries. In these cases, the encounter with the object is the site of meaning. Philologists, lawyers, and doctors are the dominant professional iden- tities of antiquaries in the seventeenth century. And the Europe of the antiquaries was the Republic of Letters. While not all its denizens were antiquaries, this network of letter-writing and, sometimes, visiting schol- ars facilitated not just the study of the past, but bringing the past home. Indeed, by the eighteenth century, the social range is extended still fur- ther; travel, the commercial revolution, and mobility of taste made the study of antiquity an object for fashionable engagement. Indeed, “neo- classicism” was the high-water mark of the antiquarian age. Where was antiquarianism? Its European capital, at least in the very beginning, was Rome. But with the spread of what we call the Renais- sance in the Italian peninsula, and then in the sixteenth century over the Alps and across the European isthmus, we nd antiquarianism respected and practiced everywhere: the Elizabethan Society of Antiquaries was founded in 1595, the Swedish Riksantikvariat in 1630, and Ole Worm sent his antiquarian questionnaire to Iceland in 1638. As the antiquar- ian movement crossed not just the Alps, but the past that began to be explored and even excavated was not just classical but Gallic, Germanic, and Norse, and the “antiquity” sometimes not so ancient. With this, an- tiquarianism laid a foundation for medieval studies, a fact that only be- comes apparent in the second half of the seventeenth century. How antiquaries worked was decisive to their future: they studied ob- jects along with texts, sometimes using the objects (often those with in- scriptions) to explain problems in surviving texts, and sometimes using texts to help make sense of the objects. In trying to understand what the ancient world actually was, antiquaries found in objects a clear window onto the daily life of an admired past when self-consciously crafted texts offered, paradoxically, only dark panes. The objects presented them- selves in the light of day, but silently: they could not speak for themselves. And thus it was only in a constant hermeneutical movement from text to object and object back to text that meaning could emerge. At the heart


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

of antiquarian practice, then, lay comparison. And comparison, in turn, required a collection of things to compare, whether texts or coins or inscriptions or vases. Once compared, the results could only be shared out across the Republic of Letters by textual descriptions included in, or appended to, letters. It is important to emphasize that most learning was still book learning; even those who worked on “things” had necessarily to immerse themselves simultaneously in literary remains and, nally, many of the practices—“rules” is probably too strong a term—developed for studying objects were derived from the practices of philology (the comparison of vases, for example, from the collation of manuscripts). But these outlines are tentative. Though the past two decades have seen an extraordinary recovery in the scholarly study of antiquaries and antiquarianism, our cup remains more than half empty: we still know too little about, especially, the “who,” the “where,” and the “what.” More- over, the interactions between antiquarianism and history, and also be- tween antiquarianism and what we might term historical psychology, are extremely complex. Antiquarian scholarship is obviously related to historical understanding, but xing this relationship means being very careful about the meaning of history as well. Antiquarians make a major contribution to the “sense of the past” in early modern Europe, but we cannot generalize about how. Similarly, we know that the study of the past shapes the way people feel about past and present. But the history of emotions is still a young discipline and, to take one example, our un- derstanding of why and how objects have such a great power to move us remains very limited. That we know even this much testi es to the lasting impact of Ar- naldo Momigliano’s groundbreaking work on antiquaries in the 1950s and 1960s, and to the fact that any serious coming to grips with Euro- pean historical culture in the centuries between Petrarch (d. 1374) and Peiresc (d. 1637), or even Winckelmann (d. 1768), cannot avoid antiquaries and antiquarianism. 2 Nevertheless, the reason why interest has long remained so paltry is that antiquarianism disappeared as a self- conscious practice when the modern cultural sciences came into their own. Of course, even in its heyday there were critics mocking either the antiquaries’ myopia (Chardin’s painting of Le singe antiquaire is exhibit A) or their pedantry and gullibility (Johann Burckhard Mencke’s 1715 De charlataneria eruditorum)—what the antiquaries themselves called “cu- riosity” and “precision.” Later, the advent of an entirely new organization of knowledge between the middle of the seventeenth and the middle of the eighteenth centuries (between the publication of Descartes’ Discours



[1637] and Diderot and D’Alembert’s Encyclopédie [1751]) put this type of scholarship outside even the university curriculum. Meanwhile, the widening spheres of commercial society, with their increasing number of female readers in the vernacular, opened the way toward a more senti- mental, less learned, engagement with the past. This was true for people interested in the past; but where the “Moderns” ruled, the study of antiq- uity was pushed to the margins. Where antiquaries survived, it was in the provinces, in local history associations, in schools and archives. And even when professors slowly opened up to the kinds of practices and questions developed in antiquarian circles, there was no recuperating antiquarian- ism itself. The birth of “structural history” in the twentieth century did not recognize these early modern scholars as ancestors. 3 Even the recent scholarly revival of interest in antiquarianism works against the grain:

studying antiquaries now is like trying to get at the Inca Temple from inside the Franciscan church built right atop it. 4 If the way in which the practice of history has developed in Europe has made the antiquarian heritage dif cult of access, a change in per- spective offers the possibility of new clarity. Among historians of China the situation is different again; less a matter of accessing a “superceded” practice—the problem of a Whig history of history is not sensu stricto a Chinese problem—than of recognizing the contours of what a Chinese antiquarianism may have been. These differential states of development may have been responsible for the absence of any comparative focus up until very recently. 5 European antiquarianism has usually been paralleled to Chinese epigraphy, a eld that evolved in conjunction with the collecting of an- tiquities and is traditionally known as jinshi xue (literally “bronze and stone studies”). Chang Kwang-chih, explaining the history of Chinese archaeology for Western readers in the 1980s, was the rst to apply the term “antiquarianism” to jinshi scholarship, although a number of ear- lier writers had paved the way for this assessment. 6 But it has only been during the past decade, with the maturing of scholarship on European antiquarianism, that a broader discussion of antiquarianism in China began and Chinese terms (such as haogu zhuyi 好古主義 or boxue haogu yanjiu 博學好古研究) were coined to capture the conceptual nature of the Western “ism.” 7 Although the collecting of ancient historic materials is documented for the Han era (206 BCE–220 CE) already, the systematic investigating of ancient inscriptions and artifacts rst came about in the second half of the eleventh century under the Song dynasty. 8 It grew from the leisurely


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

interests of a small group of intellectuals centered around Ouyang Xiu (1007–72) and Liu Chang (1019–68). Institutionalization followed only half a century later with the involvement of the imperial court. By the end of the twelfth century, not least driven by the urge to recover the cultural goods dispersed after the loss of northern China to the Jurchen, the collecting of antiquities had become an accepted elite pastime and epigraphy was recognized as a scholarly eld, as Zhai Qinian’s ( . 1142) annotated bibliography attests. 9 Antiquarian activity modeled on Song scholarship remained a respected form of Confucian erudition until the early twentieth century. Even the introduction of Western archaeological methods in the 1920s and the subsequent reorganizations of history and archaeology into academic disciplines did not signi cantly undermine its prestige. 10 Like European antiquaries, Chinese scholars in the jinshi tradition celebrated the authenticity of ancient relics as an invaluable boon to their philological studies. Some of them even made it their vocation to search for forgotten steles or locate inscribed ancient bronze vessels. But they never went so far as to sponsor archaeological excavations, relying instead on the antiquities market and an ever-growing literature of col- lected data. They were textual scholars who were primarily concerned with epigraphy, calligraphy, philosophy, and, above all, the interpreta- tion of the moral and political lessons of the Confucian classics. Hence they were interested in only certain types of old things, those that either contained commemorative inscriptions or were mentioned in the clas- sics, especially the books on propriety and ritual. Descriptions of the past in terms of a broad “cultural history”—let alone daily life—were not part of the trajectory of jinshi scholarship, even though some of this content was in fact discussed in the historical treatises and especially in the local gazetteers. The divergent scope of jinshi xue and European antiquarianism rests in part on the different status accorded to antiquity in the two scholarly cultures. While the antiquarius who professed his love for antiquity was in the cultural avant-garde in fteenth-century Italy, in premodern China the love of antiquity (hao gu) and the need to learn from it had been basic scholarly tenets ever since Confucius (551–479 BCE) declared them to be ideals of his own. 11 What was novel in the Northern Song period (960–1127) was not a revived interest in antiquity per se, but the man- ner in which that distant past was retrieved. Song scholars recognized that a systematic study of material remains from antiquity could provide a direct and authentic connection to that idealized age of the model



sages and moral exemplars. Such a material connection to a normative antiquity was more easily established than we might think today, because the framework of late medieval correlative cosmology allowed for time to be seen as an entity that could be transcended physically. 12 But the sys- tematic turn to antiquities was also the result of an invigorated scholarly skepticism over the correctness of classical commentary and even the authenticity of certain classics. This skepticism, in turn, was due to the unprecedented state sponsorship of classical learning that went hand in hand with the rebuilding of the Chinese empire, bringing about a new kind of scholarly elite (shi daifu). Ever since its Song beginnings, the study of ancient bronzes and steles was thus more than just a matter of historical scholarship: it touched on a scholar’s social identity, was closely related to his personal life experience, and “awakened deep emotions.” 13 Song antiquarianism spurred an ever-growing appreciation of an- tiquities as symbols of cultural re nement and social class. Antiquity- collecting became especially pronounced after the thirteenth century, when the Mongol conquest rede ned the social identity of Confucian scholars. By the early fourteenth century, the scholars of the Song era had come to embody a lost ideal. Collecting antiquities (including relics of the Song era) offered one way to reconnect to them. Moreover, one strand of Song scholarship particularly close to early antiquarian activi- ties, the so-called Neo-Confucianism (daoxue) of Cheng Yi (1033–1107) and Zhu Xi (1130–1200), was of cially declared orthodox knowledge and tested in the state examinations. Song jinshi scholarship, too, was disseminated, memorized, and emulated through collecting antiquities. Ownership of cultural relics (and its cognates: the need for classi ca- tion and the rhetoric of the collector’s passion) now mattered more than historical research. Over the course of the Yuan (1271–1368) and Ming eras (1368–1644) connoisseurship in antiquities and knowledge of Song antiquarian publications became a status-de ning aspect of good taste. 14 It was only between the seventeenth and early twentieth centuries that the work of Song Confucian scholars was seriously questioned and classical antiquity became a renewed focus of intense scholarship. Even- tually the new so-called Han learning and the movement of evidentiary scholarship (kaozheng xue) reinvigorated both the connoisseurial and philological strands of antiquarianism, modernizing the eld of jinshi xue into one that, like the work of the Song epigraphers and collectors, again compares more readily to European categories of antiquarianism, where broad philological inquiries are directed to recover material as- pects of a distant past. 15


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

But how closely do we need to compare jinshi xue to European anti- quarianism at all? How necessary is it to take the measure of this Chinese antiquarian tradition bearing in mind the categories, cautions, and ho- rizons that Momigliano and his heirs have brought to the study of the Western tradition? 16 Is this not, the critic might object, just another form of insidious “Orientalism,” reading the Other in “our” own language and thus inevitably a “colonizing” act? Leibniz can help us here. In a letter of 1708 he characterized China as an “Oriental Europe.” 17 He meant by this that there was a commu- nity, or continuity, of interests and history binding together East and West. The Europeans had developed better solutions to some things, the Chinese to others. Hence his equally stunning phrase, describing con- tact between Europe and China as “un commerce de lumière.” 18 Leibniz believed that Europeans could learn from Chinese as much as Chinese could learn from Europeans. This is our view as well. 19 What we hope to do in this volume is to use the European and Chi- nese traditions to illuminate each other. So, for example, to the historian of European antiquarianism the Chinese focus on words and texts rather than the objects on which they were inscribed casts in sharp relief the European turn to material meaning in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries (such as it was). We might be aware of the predominance of philological approaches in early modern Europe, but still might need a cross-cultural comparison to realize that the material turn cannot be taken for granted as in any way “evolutionary” but was a move that must be explained. By the same token, the importance of the emotional expe- rience of antiquity in China will come as a shock to the Europeanist used to seeing poetry and philology, feelings and science, as separate facul- ties. Moreover, its persistence in China will puzzle Europeanists who no longer consider the insights of artists or authors (Piranesi or Sebald, for example) relevant to the work of studying past material cultures. 20 For the Europeanist, the centrality in China of a synchronic approach to the past alongside a diachronic one (the model of the “Dynastic History”) suggests that the prominence of a Thucydidean over a Herodotean model cannot be read as natural. 21 Finally, there is the crucial example of “ecclesiastical history,” the document-rich account of the life of the godly community in the world, which established a model for the priority of evidence to rhetoric. 22 Its role may have hitherto been slighted by schol- ars of European historiography, but for Chinese historians—and those familiar with Chinese history—the role of empirical, documentary schol- arship in upholding religious ritual and ideology would have seemed ob-



vious, as in the two famous investigations of ancient bells at the Northern Song courts of Renzong (from 1034) and Huizong (from 1104). 23 On the other hand, for the historian of Chinese intellectual and cul- tural history, the discovery of the breadth of the European antiquarian tradition but also its relatively precisely researched scholarly anatomy suggests a massive research potential for even a relatively well-de ned form of antiquarianism such as jinshi xue. 24 There is still a considerable dearth of studies that examine individual scholars and their local net- works, especially for the centuries after the fall of the Northern Song dynasty. 25 But comparison also may lead to ways in which the boundaries of Chinese antiquarian learning might be pushed beyond jinshi xue and elegant collecting. Like antiquaries in Europe, but unlike jinshi scholars of the fourteenth to seventeenth centuries, Song scholars emphasized the empirical gathering of a broad range of new material data. The three Hong brothers, for instance, not only collected bronze vessels and dis- cussed ancient writing from steles and bronzes, they also studied ancient and foreign coins; in addition the youngest brother, Hong Mai (1123– 1202), spent the greater part of his life collecting and critically review- ing reports on strange and seemingly supernatural occurrences, some 2,700 of which have survived as his celebrated Yijian zhi (Accounts of the Listener). 26 To these scholars, the material traces of a distant past held a mystical allure and demanded to be explored just like strange natural phenomena. Such a broadening of inquiries will also put in relief the inevitable limitations of the Western concept of antiquarianism. De ning China’s jinshi xue primarily through categories of historiography, philology, and empirical exploration, for instance, results in a picture of scholars en- gaged in constructing and maintaining a Confucian orthodoxy. This overlooks not only the less positivist dimensions of Chinese thought but also the impact of an increasingly commercialized society and the het- erogeneous makeup of the Chinese elite in the late Ming and Qing era. As the contribution by Bruce Rusk in this volume reminds us, reading the discoveries of antiquities both in cosmological and political terms were an essential part of antiquarian scholarship well into the early mod- ern era. The research project of a comparative cultural history was Karl Lam- precht’s vision for the Institut für Kultur- und Universalgeschichte he estab- lished at the University of Leipzig. 27 “Comparative history” occupied a central place in the historical thinking of Marc Bloch, in particular, in


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

the 1920s. 28 As practiced, it aimed to reveal questions which were oc- cluded from within a single discipline’s, or culture’s, one-point perspec- tive. It aimed at the open-ended and suggestive, rather than the conclu- sive and comprehensive. Indeed, Max Weber, who a century ago made the great compelling case for comparison, was at pains to insist that it was a precision tool—for “splitting” not “lumping.” Writing about a comparative history of ancient agrarian regimes, he explained that

such a comparative study would not aim at nding “analogies” and “parallels,” as is done by those engrossed in the currently fashionable enterprise of constructing general schemes of development. The aim should, rather, be precisely the opposite: to identify and de ne the individuality of each development, the characteristics which made the one conclude in a manner so different from that of the other. 29

Comparison, in other words, only super cially resembled a pairing of “like” with “like.” In fact, the pairing was designed to determine pre- cisely what made the two “unlike.” One could then proceed to the more interesting question—for Weber, at least—of why they were unlike. After Momigliano, and especially after the work of Wilfried Nippel, Weber emerges clearly as a historical thinker, his emphasis on the “why” show- ing how comparison could yield a picture that was contingent, always located at a speci c point in time and space. 30 China and Europe both developed keen historical sensibilities. These have been much studied. But there also developed, in both cultures, a much more speci c, and much less studied, openness to using the mate- rial remains of the past alongside of texts as sources for its understand- ing. In Europe this past was identi ed with antiquity, and the expansion of the historical methods for antiquity’s systematic reconstruction soon came to be called “antiquarianism.” In China, too, this new opening was identi ed with antiquity, the three preimperial dynasties Xia, Shang, and Zhou; and the name for its study, “bronze and stone studies” (jinshi xue), even hinted both at the materials worked on and at antiquity, since bronze and stone were the most enduring media to transmit ancient texts. But jinshi xue remained a subgenre of the study of the classics while Antiquitates eventually became closely identi ed with the study of mate- rial remains. To provide a possible path to explain such differences, we propose to expand the comparative framework beyond the study of an-



tiquities. One area the present collection of essays has chosen to exam- ine is the notion that antiquarianism is closely related to empiricism, and thus to contemporary practices in natural history, medicine, and travel writing. In this respect, we might consider antiquarianism as a speci c feature, even a manifestation, of “late humanism” in Europe. Although little studied yet, the best jinshi scholars often also exhib- ited a great interest in empiricist methods, not just in the Song but in the Ming and Qing eras as well. For instance, Yang Shen (1488–1559), one of the most authoritative jinshi scholars of his time, also wrote the ground- breaking history of the Yunnan border region, where he conducted geo- graphic eldwork and even translated texts from the local Bo language (described in Leo K. Shin’s essay). Fu Shan (c. 1606–84) was not only a groundbreaking medical author (see Nathan Sivin’s essay), but also an in uential calligrapher who spent decades arduously locating and study- ing ancient steles and scripts. 31 And Cheng Yaotian (1725–1814) not only conducted botanical eldwork in close consultation with the Confucian Classics but also traditional antiquarian research (see Georges Métailié’s essay). In his attempts to reconstruct ancient music he went as far as experimenting with the casting of ancient-style bronze bells based on texts and antiquities. This kind of experimentation had not been done since the early twelfth century under the Song dynasty. Exact parallels to this can be found in Europe, especially, perhaps, in recent work on the history of natural history in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 32 In Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China the com- parison actually runs on two axes: between Europe and China, of course, but less obviously also between competing historical approaches within each culture. The cross-cultural comparison necessarily operates in a synchronic mode, while the implied intracultural comparison is framed diachronically. From this perspective, this book is a “prequel” to Momi- gliano & Antiquarianism: Foundations of the Modern Cultural Sciences. 33 That collection of essays, edited by Miller, examined one of Momigliano’s prescient asides, that the decay products of antiquarianism in the nine- teenth and twentieth centuries were the modern cultural sciences: art history, sociology, anthropology, archaeology, and history of religion. The focus of that book was not antiquarianism per se, so much as its rela- tionship to successor disciplines and, of course, to Momigliano himself. In this one, we focus on a period when antiquarian inquiry took place in the context of the humanist discovery of the world, and when it was a response to new information emerging from the ground, from the heav- ens, and from other parts of the globe.


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

Recognizing antiquarianism’s disposition to breadth in an age prior to disciplinarity, we have begun with the question of origins. How can trained historians adequately grasp a form of historical inquiry made redundant by the very forces which, ultimately, have shaped the modern historical profession? The rst essay, Miller’s “Writing Antiquarianism,” offers a sketch of the history of antiquarian scholarship in Europe from its early modern heyday through its modern transformation. It reveals how nineteenth-century archaeologists studied seventeenth-century antiquaries and how they conceived of this inquiry in a dialogue with those emerging, and successor, cultural sciences. Greater familiarity with the history of this cultural practice could enable modern historians to uncover lost points of contact—and deviation. The essays that follow suggest steps toward opening up the history of antiquarianism in both Europe and China. They represent attempts to probe the ways in which the study of antiquity, the perspective of antiquitates, and the methods of the antiquary insinuated themselves into a wider—even global—world of early modern learning. For antiquarianism helped shape inquiries into ancient remains, religion, and philosophy, as well as contemporary botany, medicine, poetry, and ethnology. Phenomena which might seem unrelated may emerge, from the perspective of a new history of anti- quarianism, as more closely connected. Given this penetration of antiquarianism and antiquarianizing deep into the surrounding learned landscape, the reader of these essays would not be mistaken to feel that at its fullest extent “antiquarianism” had something to do with nearly every aspect of intellectual life. 34 Yet, at this fullest extent antiquarianism would not mean much of anything, and certainly not the study of “antiquity.” (This is not so different in scope from the dif culty of establishing the relationship between “antiquarian- ism” and “archaism” in the context of Chinese art.) Thus, it could be argued that properly situating antiquarianism in its cultural matrix ef- fectively diminishes its own distinctive signi cance. For all these reasons we have been careful here to begin with the secure, narrower de nition. But it would be a self-defeating blindness to cling only to the safety of a narrower de nition in the face of the obvious relationship between the study of antiquity through its physical remains and other facets of obser- vational culture. This is, after all, just another way of making the point that in premodern times almost everything could be, and was, taught in relation to the classics: history, rhetoric, ethics, art and natural science. There clearly was something distinctive, and important, about this spe-



ci cally materialized form of historical inquiry. Examining it in a raking light, lifting it slightly out of its context and isolating the phenomenon, is necessary if we are to see its features in highest relief. Only then can we proceed to assessing the full scope of historical understanding and practices available to the cultures we are examining. And so this book can be read as something of a proposal and some- thing of a provocation. As a proposal, it offers a way of thinking about early modern European culture in its own terms: with the role of study of the past, and students of the past, near the center, as indeed it was. As a provocation, it suggests that if we could adequately explain the relation- ship between the antiquarian study of the past on the one hand, and po- etry, art, religion, natural philosophy, ethnology, ethics, and history on the other, we would be much closer to understanding what it meant to think like an early modern European. The still bigger provocation might then be to turn this same spotlight on China. Alain Schnapp’s sketch of the contours of a “comparative antiquar- ianism” suggests that the meaningfulness not only of the past, but of material culture as a portal into that past, can be found across time and place. He himself ghts shy of a “structuralist” antiquarianism à la Lévi- Strauss, and so do we; such a project would have to be conducted on very different terms and by a very different équipe. Nevertheless, that we nd so much in common in their attitudes toward antiquities among Egyptians of the Middle Kingdom and the English of modern Middlesex suggests the richness of the soil yet to be turned over. Schnapp himself, in drawing attention to the sacred character of much ancient antiquari- anism, casts a light on the tremendous, latent power of old things and their study. His broad comparison raises a broad question: is there a par- allel trajectory that proceeds from Mesopotamia and Egypt not West, to Greece and Rome, but East, to China? Finding this parallel narrative was the El Dorado for seventeenth-century comparatists such as Athanasius Kircher, but does its rejection mean that we must always look for the roots of antiquarainism to grow only Westward? Schnapp’s broad survey of the meanings of an immersion in the bro- ken remains of the past is followed by Jan Papy’s case study of the anti- quarian humanist Justus Lipsius (1547–1606). Papy shows us the ways in which textual study could incorporate as well as lter the worlds of archaeology and ethnography c. 1600. Knowledge derived from experi- ence with physical remains and that derived from travelers to the Western Hemisphere and the Far East was woven into that derived from the read-


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

ing and editing of ancient texts. Papy is especially alert to Lipsius’s efforts to nd practical utility in antiquarian knowledge, whether in terms of external (architecture or military tactics) or internal goods (ethics). 35 Miller’s “Comparing Antiquarianisms: A View from Europe,” in which a historian of the European antiquarian tradition picks out four moments and styles of convergence between European and Chinese an- tiquarianism, suggests one possible mapping of this encounter. It shows how scholarly comparison can function as a form of translation, expos- ing incompatibilities (Weber’s “splitting”) as well as parallels (the “lump- ing”). Its mood is interrogatory, assuming neither tradition to be canoni- cal for the other, but using each to expand our potential understanding of a phenomenon which seems to have, at least at its root, a common foundation in how people relate to their temporal condition. In short, its question is as much “Why is the shape of European antiquarianism not like China’s?” as it is “Why is the shape of Chinese antiquarianism not like Europe’s?” The essays that follow, grouped under four distinct headings, are intended as suggestive encounters between European and Chinese an- tiquarian modes. The realms they cover—the relationship to the arti- fact, the natural world, the variety of human customs, and the history of religion—are, indeed, signi cant. But they are not at all meant to be exhaustive. The two essays in Part 2 (“Authenticity and Antiquities”) explore the question of forgery from the perspectives of the two different cul- tures, but also of different epistemologies. Christopher Wood asks us to re-examine the meaningfulness of the Renaissance turn to material evidence. 36 If this has been canonized as the Ur-moment of antiquarian- ism, his reminder that things were as opaque and as open-ended as texts has several major consequences. First, it problematizes the idea of the Renaissance as an epistemological break. Second, it problematizes any simplistic understanding of how material evidence bore within itself any notional certainty. Third, by juxtaposing “substitutional” and “archae- ological” approaches and arguing for their coexistence, at least in the earlier Renaissance, he has articulated a new argument for the power of imaginative uses of the past. Rather than accepting the Whiggish distinc- tion between science and art, which has done so much to blacken the reputations of Cyriac of Ancona, Pirro Ligorio, and Piranesi, among oth- ers, Wood shows us how normal the mixture of the imaginative and the archaeological really was. Very similar forms of credulity can be seen among pioneering an-



tiquaries in Song China, who were slow to replace transmitted images of ancient objects with the archaeological data they recovered. Learned credulity became even more pronounced after the Song period, when Song antiquarian scholarship itself became the origin of a new chain of substitutions in the form of both newly printed editions of original Song books as well as faked Song studies. The transmission of pictures and paintings seems to have been little affected by early antiquarian attempts at precise description as they retained the authority granted to textual transmission. The traditional substitutional mode of understanding ar- tifact production thus remained normative. Such comparison con rms that it is the European aspiration for a “purely” archaeological, unemo- tional technology that is the novum. Learned credulity is well evident in the three Chinese cases of forgery presented by Bruce Rusk. His essay on the philological dimensions of forgery culture in Ming and Qing China lays open how a sprawling col- lectors’ market shaped and often corrupted antiquarian learning, and how authoritative much of that antiquarian scholarship has been right into the twentieth century. Aside from commercial and status pressures, Ming and Qing credulity also depended on the age-old Chinese convic- tion to see all occurrences as cosmologically correlated. There were no such things as chance discoveries of ancient texts—they were all good, bad, or fake omens. Within a portentological mode of artifact produc- tion materiality, time, and space all become relative, so that even a re- cord of the physical destruction of a thing cannot preclude its reconstitu- tion and transmission later, especially if the object was believed to have been made by a historically eminent gure. Jinshi scholarship, especially its more recondite forms developed during the Ming era, only partially demisti ed magical objects. The essays in Part 3 (“The Discovery of the World”) suggest ways in which antiquarian approaches were at the root of much contemporary exploration of the natural world. Nancy G. Siraisi, following from an- other of Momigliano’s casually tossed-off asides, explores the antiquar- ies’ empirical turn through the parallel history of medicine. And here, she nds a number of humanistically oriented medical doctors making the same move toward the study of ancient material culture that is more familiarly found among nonmedical antiquaries. Her chief example, Wolfgang Lazius (1514–65), is especially interesting because in his case, unlike that of, say, Girolamo Mercuriale, a colleague of Panvinio in the Farnese circle, or Andrea Bacci, there was no medical value to his anti- quarian investigations. The improvement of physical, mental, or pub-


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

lic health was not Lazius’s goal. Though these practical bene ts could indeed accrue—as Lipsius himself demonstrated—Siraisi shows that antiquarian production by medical doctors could just as easily re ect

contemporary fashion or the demands of patrons. At this remove from utility, the example of Lazius becomes a case study in the history of taste for histories. 37 The following three papers examine Chinese scholars who em- ployed their classical training to advance a special branch of natural studies known as the “investigation of things” (gewu). Nathan Sivin comments on the different professional environments of physicians in early modern China and Europe. He sees the major differences in the Chinese absence of an organized medical profession and medical university education. Yet, physicians in China shared the same classical education with all members of the scholar elite, even if civil service, for whatever reasons, was not an option for them. Medicine was thus closely connected to classical learning and physicians, though often low in political rank, were closely enmeshed in the intellectual com- munity. Kenneth J. Hammond looks speci cally at the scholarly net- working that bridged different elds of scholarship among the Ming elite. He examines the exchanges between two of the most prominent gures in Ming intellectual history, Li Shizhen (1518–93), the author of the massive Ming materia medica, and Wang Shizhen (1526–90), the most celebrated poet of his time, who composed a preface for Li’s com- pilation. Hammond’s close reading of Wang’s preface, composed over

a ten-year period, demonstrates the realization among late Ming schol-

ars that Daoist alchemy may have been at the origin of pharmacological

studies, but that the true contribution of Li’s scholarship lay not in his metaphysical speculations but in an analytical methodology that cor- rected earlier errors often on the basis of direct observation. Wang,

a leading advocate of archaism, indeed saw parallels here to his own

studies on the history of poetry. Two centuries later, as Georges Métailié’s essay shows, evidentiary scholars had appropriated the empirical approach of Li Shizhen into traditional classical studies and shed much of the Daoist as well as Neo- Confucian elements still present in the Ming texts. Cheng Yaotian’s (1725–1814) evidentiary studies to identify plants mentioned in the clas- sics reveal a particularly striking example of how Qing classicists could move toward an antiquarian-style philology. Cheng, who interviewed farmers and collected plant specimens and seeds from various regions in China, develops a unique form of botany. Unlike Li’s materia medica,



which was intended as practical knowledge and remained rmly embed- ded in the tradition of healing, Cheng’s studies ultimately took the an- cient classics as their main referent. In this antiquarian approach Cheng closely resembles Lazius. Similarly, the essays in Part 4 (“Antiquarianism and Ethnography”) connect the antiquarian study of ancient religion with the study of living human practices. Noel Malcolm looks closely at the learned encounter with Islam in early modern Europe, and Leo K. Shin provides an initial survey of several Ming scholars engaged in the research of non-Chinese peoples. Malcolm’s closely argued study serves a broader methodological pur- pose. It reminds us that the origins of a critical history of religion cannot be laid at the door of antiquarianism or of ethnology. For the early mod- ern study of Islam shows us something different again: a case study in the resistance of European learned culture to a real engagement with an- other, competing religion. Firsthand accounts did not dissolve myths or disabuse prejudices. His conclusion, on the contrary, that the antiquari- anism of the ethnographers blocked the antiquarianism of the scholars offers a spectacular vantage point on to the question of how Europeans actually came to know China. The attitudes of Chinese Confucian intellectuals toward foreign cul- tural practices had a particularly complex history. For Ming scholars, the Mongol occupation of China in the thirteenth and fourteenth centu- ries, the close interaction between Central Asian and Chinese of cials at court, and the state sponsorship of the Tibetan Buddhist clergy since that time all provided for a situation radically different from Europe. But besides the foreigners to the north and west who organized into states and posed formidable military threats, Ming China was also in contact with numerous non-Chinese peoples along the southern frontier into whose lands Ming culture began to infringe. Leo Shin probes the writ- ings of a diverse group of Ming Confucians on non-Chinese peoples in the South to see how scholarly interest in the ancient past intersected with an increased awareness of human diversity. Ultimately, despite the rsthand accounts and attempts in translating local history, none of the Ming scholars was able to overcome classical stereotypes of cultural su- periority. Yet, for the study of noncanonical ancient texts such as the Shanhai jing, scholars like Yang Shen may be said to have devised a form of ethnographic antiquarianism that was historically motivated. The concluding section makes something of a return to the points broached by Schnapp. For at a certain moment, the study of religion,


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

especially as it changes over time, becomes another way of meditating on the encounter between the temporal and transcendental. And in this context, histories of religion can serve as surrogates for wider cultural self-de nition. The essays in Part 5 all engage with this theme. Joan-Pau Rubiés explores the place of study of Indian and Chinese religion in de- bates that he locates at the heart of the European Enlightenment. With histories of religion transposed into philosophical history, antiquarian investigation emerges as a form—perhaps Ur-form—of cultural history. D. E. Mungello’s essay on the Rites Controversy reviews the collabora- tion and con icts between Chinese classicists and European missionar- ies. Paired with Rubiés’s essay it suggests the internal cultural limits to just this sort of investigation. Not every kind of exploration can be ac- commodated, and some forms of inquiry are less manageable than oth- ers. Martin Mulsow’s essay, which concludes our volume, shows us how explosive this problem can be when not managed, or when not manage- able. Looking at the late seventeenth-century Dutch humanist Antonius van Dale (1638–1708), Mulsow asks whether it was antiquarian research or broad philosophical history that most seriously damaged the delicate balance of seventeenth-century apologetic ancient history. He shows that the deeper Van Dale and his circle plunged into the details of ancient Greek and Roman religion, the less they were able to control the im- plications of their research. Like his exact contemporary Spinoza, the power of Van Dale’s critique derives not from the invention of a new po- lemical tool, or even a new polemical spirit (this differs from Spinoza), but in pursuing a traditional line of research with the latest knowledge and most scrupulous commitment to truth. Mulsow leaves us with the thought that whether Van Dale was a libertine or not, his scholarship represents the liberation of antiquarianism from apologetics. This marks the beginning of an “objective” Altertumswissenschaft but also the possibil- ity of “objective” facts being harnessed to polemical projects that had as their aim the desacralization of history. With these twin “objectifying” developments, antiquarian scholarship emerges as a constant point of reference for a self-consciously secular modernity. When Momigliano published “Ancient History and the Antiquarian” in 1950 he launched the modern study of antiquarianism. His polarity between the diachronic narrative of political events written by historians and the synchronic study of the structures of society by philologists and antiquaries has proved heuristically valuable. 38 Fifty years later, Benja- min Elman remarked on the “long-standing” dichotomy within Chinese historiography between diachronic “annals” and synchronic “treatises,”



and noted that early modern Chinese examination candidates thought in terms of this dichotomy. 39 What, then, might a Chinese version of “An- cient History and the Antiquarian” look like? And what would it mean for the history of Chinese historiography? Craig Clunas, citing Elman, has drawn a line from the thematic content of the treatises in the Ming History (Ming shi) of 1645–1735 to the thematic content of the Cambridge History of China. 40 Without either Elman or Clunas referring to antiquari- anism, both gesture provocatively at the longue durée of a historical ap- proach that shapes our present-day practice without our even knowing it.


1. Alain Schnapp organized with Lothar von Falkenhausen, Tim Murray, and Irène Aghion an international research project dedicated to a “Universal History of Antiquarianism” which included a year at the Getty Research Insti- tute in 2009–10, a conference entitled “Traces-Collections-Ruins: Towards a Comparative History of Antiquarianism, and a collection of papers.

2. Momigliano’s nine, and soon to be ten, volumes of Contributi alla storia degli studi classici offer a treasure trove for the student of the study of the past. For antiquarianism in the narrowest sense we might single out “Ancient His- tory and the Antiquarian” (1950) and “Gibbon’s Contribution to Historical Method” (1954), in Contributo alla storia degli studi classici (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1955), 67–106 and 195–211; “L’eredità della lologia antica e il metodo storico,” in Secondo Contributo alla storia degli studi classici (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1960), 463–80; and Classical Founda- tions of Modern Historiography (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of Cali- fornia Press, 1990), a barely revised version of lectures delivered at Berkeley in 1963. There is already an impressive literature about Momigliano.

3. Fernand Braudel, for example, perceived the relevance of Gustav Friedrich Klemm’s work, but did not see that Klemm himself looked back to Worm and the antiquaries. Braudel, “The History of Civilizations,” in On History, trans. Sarah Matthews (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), 186.

4. For a less compressed account of the “decline and fall” of the early mod- ern antiquary, see Peter N. Miller, Peiresc’s Europe: Learning and Virtue in the Seventeenth Century (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2000),


5. There are a number of recent essay collections on the practice of history in China, and sometimes comparing it to Europe, but none engage with antiquarianism. See, for example, Thomas H. C. Lee, ed., China and Europe:

Images and In uences in Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries (Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1991); Q. Edward Wang and Georg G. Iggers, eds., Turning Points in Historiography: A Cross Cultural Perspective (Rochester:

Rochester University Press, 2002); Thomas H. C. Lee, ed., The New and the Multiple: Sung Senses of the Past (Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press,


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

2004); On-cho Ng and Q. Edward Wang, eds., Mirroring the Past: The Writ- ing and Use of History in Imperial China (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2005); Dieter Kuhn, Perceptions of Antiquity in Chinese Civilization (Hei- delberg: Edition Forum, 2008). In the seven articles on Chinese histori- cal scholarship in the forthcoming ve-volume Oxford History of Historical Writing, constituting almost a book within a book, one nds mention of “the archaeological interests of scholars in the Northern Song dynasty” in a single sentence.


Chang Kwang-chih, The Archaeology of Ancient China, 4th ed. (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1984), 4–21. On Chang, see Lothar von Falkenhausen, “Kwang-chih Chang 15 April 1931–3 January 2001,” Artibus Asiae 61, no. 1 (2001): 120–38. Chang harks back to Wang Guowei, “Songdai zhi jinshi xue” (The study of bronzes and steles in the Song era), Guoxue luncong 1, no. 3 (1927): 45–49. Wang’s in uential paper was translated by C. H. Liu as “Archaeology in the Sung Dynasty,” China Journal 6, no. 5 (May 1927): 222–31. Wei Zhuxian, a student of both Wang Guowei (1877–1929) and Li Ji (1896–1979), rst talked about Song jinshi scholars as models for archaeology in Zhongguo kaogu xue shi (The history of archaeology in China) (Shanghai: Shanghai yinshuguan 1937), 67–82. In the 1960s, Song antiquar- ies were still considered “archaeologists”: see R. C. Rudolph, “Preliminary Notes on Sung Archaeology,” Journal of Asian Studies 22 (1963): 169–77; Rob- ert Poor, “Notes on the Sung Dynasty Archaeological Catalogs,” Archives of the Chinese Art Society of America 19 (1965): 33–41; Edward L. Shaughnessy, Sources of Western Zhou History: Inscribed Bronze Vessels (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and Oxford: University of California Press, 1991), 5–13.


Cf. Wu Hung, ed., Reinventing the Past: Archaism and Antiquarianism in Chi- nese Art and Visual Culture (Chicago: Art Media Resources, 2010); Li Ling, Shuo gu zhu jin: Kaogu faxian he fugu yishu (Smelting the old to cast the new:

The discovery of archaeology and the art of archaism) (Hong Kong: Xiang- gang zhongwen daxue yishixi, 2005); Xu Bo, “Boxue haogu yanjiu yu xifang shixue” (Antiquarian research and Western historiography), Sichuan daxue bao 1 (2005).


The most recent and comprehensive studies on this topic are Yun-Chiahn Chen Sena, “Pursuing Antiquity: Chinese Antiquarianism from the Tenth to the Thirteenth Century” (PhD diss., University of Chicago, 2007); Patricia Ebrey, Accumulating Culture: The Collections of Emperor Huizong (Seattle and London: University of Washington Press, 2008); and Hsu Ya-hwei, “Reshap- ing Chinese Material Culture: The Revival of Antiquity in the Era of Print 960–1279” (PhD diss., Yale University, 2010). On earlier pre-Song attitudes toward antiquities in China see Wei Juxian, Zhongguo kaoguxue shi (The history of Chinese archaeology) (Shanghai: Shangwu yinshuguan, 1937), 24–66; Edward L. Shaughnessy, Rewriting Early Chinese Texts (Albany: SUNY Press, 2006).


Zhai Qinian, Zhou shi (The history of ancient script) (Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1985).


Li Ji, “Zhongguo gu qiwu xue de xin jichu” (The new foundations of Chi- nese antiquities studies), Wenshi zhexue bao 1 (1950): 63–79; Lothar von



Falkenhausen, “On the historiographical orientation of Chinese archaeol- ogy,” Antiquity 67 (1993): 839–49.

11. “The Master said: ‘I am not one who was born in the possession of knowl- edge. I am one who loves antiquity and is diligent seeking [knowledge] there (min yi qiu zhi).” Lunyu 7, no. 63, in Shisanjing zhushu; cf. Mu-chu Poo, “The Formation of the Concept of Antiquity in Early China,” in Perceptions of Antiquity in Chinese Civilization, Dieter Kuhn and Helga Stahl, eds. (Heidel- berg: Edition Forum, 2008), 89.

12. François Louis, “Cauldrons and Mirrors of Yore: Tang Perceptions of Archaic Bronzes,” Zurich Studies in the History of Art 13, no. 14 (2006/2007):


13. Qianshen Bai, Fu Shan’s World: The Transformation of Chinese Calligraphy in the Seventeenth Century (Cambridge and London: Harvard University Asia Cen- ter, 2003), 172.

14. National Palace Museum, ed., Through the Prism of the Past: Antiquarian Trends in Chinese Art of the Sixteenth to Eighteenth Century (Taipei: Guoli gugong bowu- guan, 2003); Craig Clunas, Empire of Great Brightness: Visual and Material Cultures of Ming China 1366–1644 (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2007), 112–59.

15. Benjamin A. Elman, From Philosophy to Philology: Intellectual and Social Aspects of Change in Late Imperial China, 2nd rev. ed. (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2001), 210–67; Shana Julia Brown, “Pastimes: Scholars, Art Dealers, and the Making of Modern Chinese Historiography 1870–1928” (PhD diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2003).

16. For just such a comparison in regard to Song antiquarianism see Yun-chiahn Chen Sena, “Pursuing Antiquity,” 14–27.

17. For his admiration for the Chinese achievement, especially in the “precepts of civil life,” in which they surpassed Europeans, see for example Leibniz, “Novissima Sinica,” pars. 1–3, Writings on China, trans., intro., and notes Daniel J. Cook and Henry Rosemont, Jr. (Chicago and Lasalle: Open Court, 1994), 45–46. Leibniz’s description of China as the “Oriental Europe” is found in a letter of 3 January 1708, in V. I. Guerrier, Leibniz in seinen Bezie- hungen zu Russland und Peter der Grosse (St. Petersburg, 1873), appendix 76, cited in Christian D. Zangger, Welt und Konversation: Die theologische Begründ- ung der Mission bei G. W. Leibniz (Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1973), 190.

18. Leibniz to Antoine Verjus S. J., 2 December 1697, citation: “‘Je juge que cette Mission est la plus grande affaire de nos temps, tant pour la gloire de Dieu et la propagation de la religion Chrestienne, que pour le bien gen- eral des hommes et l’accroissement des sciences et des arts chez nous aussi bien que chez les Choins, car c’est un commerce de lumiere, qui nous peut donner tout d’un coup leur travaux de quelques milliers d’annees, et leur rendre les nostres: et doubler pour ainsi dire nos veritables richesses de part et d’autre. Ce qui est quelque chose de plus grand qu’on ne pense,’” quoted in R. Widmaier, ed., Leibniz korrespondiert mit China (Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann, 1990), 55.

19. Those dissatis ed with the limited historical utility of Said’s Orientalism (New York: Random House, 1978) can now turn to Robert Irwin’s broad


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

survey of Western oriental studies, For Lust of Knowing: The Orientalists and Their Enemies (London: Allen Lane, 2006), and Suzanne Marchand’s com- prehensive study of German oriental scholarship, German Orientalism in the Age of Empire: Religion, Race, and Scholarship (Cambridge: Cambridge Univer- sity Press, 2009).

20. See Miller, “Piranesi and the Antiquarian Imagination,” Giovanni Battista Piranesi, ed. Sarah Lawrence and John Wilton-Ely (New York: Abrams, 2007), 123–38; “Browne, Sebald and the Survival of the Antiquarian in the Twentieth Century,” The World Proposed: Sir Thomas Browne Quatercentenary Essays, ed. Reid Barbour and Claire Preston (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008).

21. I am relying on Momigliano’s contrast betewen the two, presented most clearly in The Classical Foundations of Modern Historiography, chap. 2.

22. Momigliano, The Classical Foundations of Modern Historiography, chap. 5, and “Mabillon’s Italian Disciplines,” Terzo Contributo alla storia degli studi classici e del mondo antico (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1966), 135–52, among others. There has been a spate of work in the last decade, including in the last year the 911 pages of Jan Marco Sawilla, Antiquarismus, Hagiogra- phie und Historie im 17. Jahrhundert: zum Werk der Bollandisten, ein wissenschaft- shistorischer Versuch (Tübingen: Niemeyer, 2009), and the 511 pages of Jean- Louis Quantin, The Church of England and Christian Antiquity: The Construction of a Confessional Identity in the Seventeenth Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009). I am grateful to Anthony Grafton for making available to me “Arnaldo Momigliano and the Tradition of Ecclesiastical History,” a lecture delivered at University College London on 29 May 2009.

23. On this story see, most recently, Patricia Ebrey, “Replicating Zhou Bells at the Northern Song Court,” in Reinventing the Past: Archaism and Antiquarian- ism in Chinese Art and Visual Culture, ed. Wu Hung (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010), 179–99; Ebrey, Accumulating Culture, 159–62; Ebrey, “Huizong’s Stone Inscriptions,” in Emperor Huizong and Late Northern Song China: The Politics of Culture and the Culture of Politics, ed. Patricia Buckley Ebrey and Maggie Bickford (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Cen- ter, 2006), 229–74.

24. The classic work remains Zhu Jianxin, Jinshi xue (Shanghai: Shangwu yins- huguan, 1930).

25. For recent exceptions in English see Ronald Egan, The Problem of Beauty: Aes- thetic Thought and Pursuits in Northern Song-Dynasty China (Cambridge, MA:

Harvard University Asia Center, 2006); Stephen Owen, Remembrances: The Experience of the Past in Classical Chinese Literature (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1986), 80–98; Robert E. Harrist, Jr., “The Artist as Anti- quarian: Li Gonglin and his Study of Early Chinese Art,” Artibus Asiae 55, no. 3 (1995): 237–80; Qianshen Bai, Fu Shan’s World; Shana Julia Brown, “Pastimes: Scholars, Art Dealers, and the Making of Modern Chinese Histo- riography 1870–1928” (PhD diss., University of California, Berkeley, 2003).

26. Two books on ancient calligraphy, Lishi (History of clerical script) and Lixu (Continued history of clerical script) by Hong Gua (1117–42), survive. Hong Zun’s (1120–74) Quanzhi (Record of Coins) is the oldest surviving numis-



matic work in China. On Hong Mai, see Alister D. Inglis, Hong Mai’s Record of the Listener and Its Song Dynasty Context (Albany: SUNY Press, 2006).

27. Walter Goetz, “Das Leipziger Forschungsinstitut für Kultur- und Univers- algeschichte,” Forschungsinstitute: Ihre Geschichte, Organisation und Ziele, ed. Ludolph Bauer, Albrecht Mendelssohn Bartholdy, and Adolf Meyer, 2 vols. (Hamburg: Paul Hartung Verlag, 1930), 1:387.

28. Marc Bloch, “Pour une histoire comparée des sociétés européennes,” Revue de Synthèse Historique 46 (1928): 15–50; “Comparaison,” Bulletin du Centre International de Synthèse 9 (supplement to RSH, 1930): 31–39.

29. Max Weber, “[Concluding Note on Method],” The Agrarian Sociology of Ancient Civilizations, trans. R. I. Frank (London: Verso, 1998), 385.

30. Among Nippel’s many works on the subject are his editions of Momigliano (Ausgewählte Schriften, Band 1: Die Alte Welt [Stuttgart: J. B. Metzler, 1998]) and Weber (Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, Teilband 5: Die Stadt [Tübingen:

Mohr (Siebeck), 1999]) and speci c studies devoted to “Methodenent- wicklung und Zeitbezüge im althistorischen Werk Max Webers,” Geschichte und Gesellschaft 16 (1990): 355–75; “From Agrarian History to Cross-cultural Comparisons: Weber on Greco-Roman Antiquity,” The Cambridge Compan- ion to Weber, ed. S. Turner (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 240–55; “New Paths of Antiquarianism in the Nineteenth and Early Twenti- eth Centuries: Theodor Mommsen and Max Weber,” Momigliano and Anti- quarianism: Foundations of the Modern Cultural Sciences,ed. Peter N. Miller (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2007), 207–28. Henri Pirenne seems both to have underestimated Weber’s commitment to the historical and overestimated the potential of comparison as a precision tool, insisting that while sociology could suggest possible perspectives, only “comparison” could help the historian attain “la connaissance scienti que.” Pirenne, De la Méthode Comparative en Histoire: Discours prononcé à la Séance d’Ouverture du Ve Congrès International des Sciences Historiques, le 9 avril 1923 (Brussels: M. Weis- senbruch, 1923), 9–10.

31. Qianshen Bai, Fu Shan’s World.

32. For example, Karen M. Reeds, Botany in Medieval and Renaissance Universities (New York: Garland Publishing, 1991); Brian Ogilvie, The Science of Describ- ing: Natural History in Renaissance Europe (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006); and the various essays of Sachiko Kusukawa such as “The Uses of Pictures in the Formation of Learned Knowledge: The Cases of Leon- hard Fuchs and Andreas Vesalius,” Transmitting Knowledge: Words, Images, and Instruments in Early Modern Europe, ed. Sachiko Kusukawa and Ian Maclean (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 73–96.

33. Miller, ed., Momigliano and Antiquarianism.

34. For the notion of “antiquarianization,” see Miller, “The ‘Antiquarianization’ of Biblical Scholarship and the London Polyglot Bible (1653–57),” Journal of the History of Ideas 63 (2001): 463–82.

35. Papy has been publishing extensively on Lipsius, most recently, “Lipsius as ‘Master of Order’: The True Face of Lipsius’s Stoicism in the Manuductio ad Stoicam philosophiam (1604) and MS Lips. 6,” De Gulden Passer 84 (2006): 221– 37; “An unpublished dialogue by Justus Lipsius on military prudence and


Antiquarianism and Intellectual Life in Europe and China

the causes of war: the Monita et exempla politica de re militari (1605),” Bib- liothèque d’humanisme et Renaissance: Travaux et documents 65 (2003): 135–48; “An Antiquarian Scholar Between Text and Image? Justus Lipsius, Humanist Education, and the Visualization of Ancient Rome,” Sixteenth-Century Journal 35 (2004): 97–131.

36. For a fuller presentation see now Wood, Forgery, Replica, Fiction: Temporalities of German Renaissance Art (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008).

37. For greater detail see now Siraisi, History, Medicine, and the Traditions of Renaissance Learning (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2007).

38. See Ingo Herklotz’s careful assessment of its fortuna and arguments in Miller, ed., Momigliano and Antiquarianism, 127–53.

39. Benjamin A. Elman, A Cultural History of Civil Examinations in Late Imperial China (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 2000), 489.

40. Elman is cited in Clunas, Empire of Great Brightness, 16.