Knowledge Communication and the Translation of Devotional Literature within Samuel Hartlib’s Circle

1 Introduction

In the Early Modern Period, all kinds of networks, such as that around Samuel Hartlib (c. 1600–1662),^[1] were active in the communication of knowledge, including that of natural philosophy, theology and religion. According to Stephen Clucas, within Hartlib’s circle there was a development from religion to natural philosophy. He believes that Hartlib’s pursuit of manuscripts was driven by an “almost evangelical fervour,” born of powerful millenarian impulses.^[2] From early on in his surviving correspondence, Hartlib devoted single-minded energy to obtaining religious manuscripts, following the maxim of Thomas Goodwin, who had told him that “the best things are kept in Mens studies, in MS.” According to the latter, there were “more excellent MS. now because that this Age is so much improved.”^[3] Hartlib sought out manuscripts concerning religious subjects, e.g. on reconciliation between Reformed and Lutherans, devotional subjects (i.e. those concerned with practical divinity), histories of the Waldensians, baptismal disputes and Sabbath observance. In his opinion, this material was instrumental in building up a “Common stock where Truths are to bee gathered preserved et encreased.”^[4]

From about 1640 until 1659, Clucas observes a slight decrease in the frequency of theological and religious topics in Hartlib’s diary of information, his Epheme-rides. Nevertheless, he does not consider the corresponding increase in the number of scientific and philosophical topics to constitute a form of secularization. Rather, he argued, Hartlib regarded communication on topics of science as one way among many of “living in the Spirit”^[5] and as a means of perfecting this life by bringing knowledge back to the “Head” or “Centre” of Christ and increasing “Profitable Learning amongst Christians.”^[6] In addition, Hartlib used his clerical friends John Dury and John Amos Comenius to open up lines of scientific correspondence. Furthermore, Clucas offers two possible explanations for the decrease in religious topics. First, there was a division of labour between Hartlib and Dury – with the latter being concerned with issues relating to ecclesiastical and theological reforms. Second, a larger project was under way, conducted by the Primate of All Ireland, James Ussher,^[7] which Hartlib probably wanted to avoid duplicating. Ussher was at work on a Bibliotheca Theologica, a “massive documentary compilation” which, in the words of Trevor-Roper, “would display the Protestant truth, firmly based on three unshakeable pillars: correct scriptural texts, exact chronology, accurate history. That done, argument, he believed, would cease: the Protestant truth would be obvious to all, and the frivolous and fraudulent hypotheses of popery would simply wither away.”^[8]

Hartlib, closely acquainted with Ussher’s project, sent him works intended to contribute to it, while urging others to do the same: for instance, vernacular works of foreign Protestants that ought to be rendered into Latin so that they could be communicated to Ussher and to other Protestant theologians.^[9]

Although the number of theological and religious topics in Ephemerides from 1640 until 1659, the last year for which the manuscript survives, may indeed have decreased, a serious commitment to specific religious projects can be observed within Hartlib’s circle during this period and afterwards; notably, these include projects to collect and translate English devotional literature into German.^[10]

As I demonstrated in my earlier research, networks of natural philosophers were one of the channels by which English devotional literature was translated into German.^[11] In this contribution, I therefore aim to establish: 1) what kind of projects were carried out and by whom, 2) how these persons became involved, and for how long, and 3) to what extent their work fits into the overall aims and methods of members of Hartlib’s circle. In order to answer these questions, I offer an overview of the activities related to the commonplacing, translating and collecting of devotional literature by members of Hartlib’s network. I do so on the basis of the Hartlib Papers, recognising that they are the rump of the papers once owned by Hartlib himself and that their composition and content is the result of the interventions of their owners in the centuries following Hartlib’s death.^[12] Before I analyse the papers mentioned, I will first give a short overview of the life and work of Hartlib and his “brothers” Dury and Comenius, as well as the roots, aims and strategies of their activities.

2 Hartlib, Dury and Comenius and the Communication of Knowledge

Samuel Hartlib and his friends and correspondents all shared an interest in the communication of all kinds of knowledge. Hartlib himself was an intermediary between cultures. He was born at Elbing (now Elbląg) in Royal Prussia, then part of the Holy Roman Empire (hereafter HRE), the son of a German father and an English mother who both belonged to the city’s Reformed Church. Samuel studied both in the HRE (Brieg and Königsberg) and in England (Emmanuel College, Cambridge). At the latter, he studied under the Puritan theologian John Preston.^[13] In 1628, in order to escape the Thirty Years’ War – the Swedes had annexed his home city – Hartlib fled to England, a country which had strong ties with the Palatinate due to the marriage of the “Winter King” Frederick V, Elector Palatine, to the British princess Elizabeth Stuart in 1613.^[14] Hartlib stayed in England until his death in 1662. After that, his circle slipped into obscurity, obloquy, and exile concurrently with the Restoration.^[15]

Hartlib was in close touch with two men in particular, who were also cultural brokers: the first was John Dury (c. 1600–1680).^[16] He was a Reformed minister of Scottish descent who travelled across the European continent in order to negotiate with princes and theologians for the cause of universal learning and the reconciliation of Lutheranism and Calvinism.^[17] From 1663, the court of Hesse-Cassel served as the base for Dury’s travels around Northern Europe, and from 1674 until his death in 1680 he was continuously resident there.

Hartlib’s second major contact was John Amos Comenius (1592–1670), bishop of the Moravian Brethren and advocate of a thematically organised educational programme that it was hoped would lead to pansophic (meaning “all-wisdom”) knowledge. Comenius grew up in Moravia, but was forced into religious exile and lived as a refugee in Poland, England, Sweden, Hungary and the Netherlands (Amsterdam).^[18] On the eve of the English Civil War, in March 1642, Hartlib, Dury and Comenius entered into a “fraternal covenant” to strive for a “universal reformation.”^[19] Here, one must agree with John T. Young that “Hartlib and Dury were the two key figures: Comenius, despite their best efforts, always remained a cause they were supporting rather than a fellow co-ordinator.”^[20]

The roots, aims and methods of Hartlib and his network have been the subject of much research. Clucas mentions some of these aspects, as we saw above. Firstly, the root was “an almost evangelical fervour,” which can be traced back to millenarian impulses. This is congruent with the idea that networks such as Hartlib’s circle were based on the movement of Puritanism, with its ascetic ethics (Merton’s thesis),^[21] and Millenarianism (Charles Webster and Hugh Trevor-Roper).^[22] However, Merton and Webster have been criticized with the observation that labelling the utilitarian and pansophic approach to scientific practice as “Puritan” is not adequate, since these notions were shared by all Protestants.^[23]

The aim of Hartlib and others in communicating about religion as well as about science was, according to Clucas “profitable Learning amongst Christians.” To start with the aspect of learning, this should be, according to members of Hartlib’s circle, “universal learning,” or Pansophism, i.e. teaching all things to all human beings thoroughly and completely, by all available means. This aspect has been illuminated in scholarship on Hartlib and his “brothers” by several scholars, including by Webster with regard to Hartlib, by George M. Ella regarding Dury and by Jan Kvačala on Comenius.^[24] For Dury, “Practical Divinity,” the whole doctrine of the life of godliness, was at the heart of “universal learning” and is even synonymous with it, as Ella has shown. Dury believed that all knowledge was of God, reflected His Being, and was therefore to be used to His glory and in the service of mankind. Knowledge should be made “practical” for the “Public Good,” by means of universal education.^[25] In this context, Dury supported the call of German theologians to compile a body of practical divinity from excerpts of devotional books of English authors.^[26]

For the methodology of this universal learning, Hartlib and his network, according to Howard Hotson, went back to the pedagogical tradition of Post-Ramism, as it had developed in Central Europe. For Hartlib and his network, the primary means of universal learning was not the canonical texts such as those of Aristotle, but modern textbooks structured according to clear, methodical principles. According to Hotson, Hartlib, Dury, Comenius and others engaged in the effort were primarily pupils of post-Ramist scholars such as Keckermann and Alsted, who taught at colleges in the HRE, such as those in Danzig, Herborn and Heidelberg, in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Due to the Thirty Years’ War, these pupils of Post-Ramism became part of a “Reformed Diaspora” and ended up, inter alia, in England.^[27] There, they – particularly Comenius – transformed and expanded the pansophical ideal of Post-Ramism. Following its ideas, members of Hartlib’s circle wrote compendia, and developed a method of teaching including præcognita (prior knowledge of the goal, subject and means to achieve the goal), systemata (theory), and gymnasia (application to concrete problems). This method also included what was known as “commonplace learning,” a didactic strategy whereby quotations from authorities, both ancient and modern, were arranged according to subjects.

The post-Ramist method of education was also propagated by the philosopher Francis Bacon. Although members of Hartlib’s circle adopted aspects of Baconianism, eventually the traditions parted ways due to crucial underlying differences of approach. This led to the collapse of the universal reform agenda amongst Hartlib’s successors in favour of the more coherent and manageable task of reforming natural philosophy alone. This disintegration was certainly hastened by the dramatic change in the English political scene in 1660: the millenarian dream of a universal reformation was far too strongly associated with the political and ecclesiastical radicalism of the 1640s and 1650s to prosper after the Restoration.^[28]

The way in which Dury, in particular, adapted the ideas of the post-Ramists has been investigated by Pierre-Olivier Léchot. According to him, Dury radicalised the practical orientation of post-Ramism. The Scotsman could speak favourably of Alsted and Keckermann, but criticised the element of systemata, because he found it too theoretical; he wanted to get straight to the gymnasia. For Dury, practicability was the ultimate criterion of truth, which led him to make use exclusively of the analytical method, which is primarily aimed at the goal: in this case, the finding of truth.^[29]

These principles permeated Dury’s entire theology, as well as his views on and practice of Irenicism. According to Dury, following William Ames, theology was primarily “Practicall Divinity.”^[30] The practical orientation of theology required the use of the analytical method. For Dury, theology was primarily about the inner path of the believer to God, about union with God. Conscience played a central role: the essence of religion lay in the inner conviction of conscience.^[31]

Owing to Dury’s theological views, he had a great appreciation of devotional literature. He devoted himself, as has been mentioned, to the production of a “Body of divinity.” Furthermore, he mentioned the writings of Johann Arndt (probably his books on True Christianity, 1605–1610) and Lewis Bayly (The practice of piety, before 1612), together with the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer and the 10 Commandments as the writings in which the fundamental articles of faith are clearly and sufficiently expressed.^[32]

Learning, according to Hartlib and his network, should not only be universal but also profitable. Vera Keller has argued that Hartlib and his network belonged to the intelligencers of the Early Modern Times who put the advancement of knowledge at the service of the newly emerging concept of the public interest. They did this by insisting on transcending self-interest in filling knowledge gaps, and by working together to address collaborative “wish lists” regarding lost, new-found and yet-to-be-discovered things (desiderata). Amidst political dissolution in Britain during the Interregnum, groups such as Hartlib’s correspondence network, it was hoped, would provide social cohesion and endurance. Moreover, Dury and others’ irenic religious endeavour supported the political international “Protestant interest” shared by Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell. The combination of intersecting, shared private interests formed the public interest, the new constitution for the body politic.^[33]

Finally, Clucas has pointed out that for Hartlib no separation, but rather a close connection, existed between communication on science and that on religion. How important the communication of all kinds of knowledge was for Hartlib, and the manner in which he undertook it, has been sketched by Mark Greengrass.^[34] After the Parliamentary victory in 1646, Hartlib established an “Office of Address for Communications.” Its objective was to maintain registers of information on a wide range of topics, from practical divinity to the various ways in which human knowledge could be put to use to better the lot of mankind. Through his network, Hartlib collected writings on a wide range of topics, such as agronomy, silk manufacture, chemistry and librarianship, making compilations of them so that they could be usefully passed on to others.

According to Hartlib, all kinds of knowledge, from the book of nature, from human reason, and from divinely-inspired Scriptural wisdom, had become corrupted after the Fall. Consequently, a new way of learning must be found: one should not keep one’s talents hidden “in a napkin,”^[35] but should export them, trade with them and send them abroad – the “businesse of Learning,” as Hartlib’s acquaintance William Petty called it.^[36] He considered this a “duetie of Communication in Spirituall and Rationall matters,”^[37] in which phrase the word “communication” had a religious sense: it was derived from the Latin communicatio, which had been coined in Christian late antiquity as a calqued translation of the Greek koinōnia (communion, sharing), which appears several times in the New Testament.^[38]

In order to export and trade the “talents” hidden in books, Hartlib called for the essence of their contents to be excerpted in accordance with established principles and synoptic methodologies, thereby forming registers of commonplaces on a range of topics. Furthermore, Hartlib developed a set of instructions for cataloguing with indices.

As a way of enhancing the communication of knowledge, Hartlib made use of scribal publication and participated in scribal networks. Following Goodwin, he regarded manuscript texts as at least as important as printed books (see above).^[39] Hence, Hartlib encouraged others to collect manuscripts and he himself made notes of large collections of manuscripts from scholars, divines and others who had died.

3 The Commonplacing, Translating and Collecting of Devotional Literature within the Hartlib Circle

In keeping with the kinds of communication that Hartlib encouraged, a few individuals – members of his circle since the 1630s – were particularly prominent in the commonplacing, translating and collecting of devotional literature, or in encouraging others to do so. They were mostly from the Palatinate, and had been displaced, due to the Thirty Years’ War, to England and elsewhere. The fact that they were intermediaries between England and the continent made them highly suitable for the role of translator. As Peter Burke has shown in his cultural-historical overview of translators and translating in Early Modern Europe, there were numerous émigrés, exiles or expatriates among the most productive translators. They were obliged to make a living out of their displacement and to negotiate between cultures and languages. Most of these mobile^[40] translators were Calvinists. Constituent figures in the international Calvinist network (“Calvinist international”), they translated works of fellow Reformed theologians, such as William Perkins of Cambridge. An early example of a very productive translator of this category is the Dutchman Vincentius Meusevoet (d. 1624), who was among the five most productive translators of Early Modern Europe. Meusevoet translated almost all the works of the English theologian Perkins into Dutch.^[41]

In addition to the role of migrants in translation work, Burke points to the role of diplomats and political correspondents, who did translation work for a supplementary income. “In their professional life they were political go-betweens, in their leisure hours they were cultural go-betweens,” Burke writes.^[42] Sometimes, political governments even subsidised translations, as in the case of King Gustav Adolf of Sweden and Peter the Great of Russia.^[43]

4 Conclusion

This article has reconstructed, on the basis of the present state of knowledge of the Hartlib papers, a network of mostly young men from Hanau, the Palatinate and Wetteravia who collaborated with Hartlib and others to share knowledge. They were all engaged in devotional literature, although they played different roles: those of collectors of manuscripts (Rulicius, Gribius), of compilers (Streithagen) and of translators (Streithagen, Haak), and encouragers of translation work (Floccenius, Wirtz, Rulicius, Gribius).

These men from the Palatinate had become mobilised individuals for confessional reasons. Due to the Thirty Years’ War, they had to leave their home country and pre-existing connections with England saw to it that was where they took up lodgings. As “go-betweens” between the European continent and England, they were best suited to the job of translating.

The activities of this network were carried out from about 1632/1633 (the date of the request of Palatine theologians to the Church of England and Ireland for a body of divinity) until 1662 (the year of the publication of Streithagen’s translation of John Cotton). This period corresponds to the between 1640 and 1659, during which, as Clucas observed, the frequency of theological and religious topics in Hartlib’s Ephemerides was declining in favour of natural philosophical topics, a process that can be explained by the disintegration of Hartlib’s circle and Baconianism and the drastic turn of the English political scene in 1660.

Clucas is correct, too, in pointing to Dury and James Ussher as having taken over the lead on religious issues from Hartlib; but it should be added that Ussher not only worked on the Bibliotheca Theologica, but was also requested to direct the compilation of a body of divinity.^[88] Moreover, this article has demonstrated that it was not only Dury and Ussher, but also Palatine men who continued Hartlib’s occupation with theological and religious topics, even for some years after 1659.

Moreover, it seems that the Palatine men did not come into contact with English devotional literature through Hartlib’s circle, but rather through other channels, and that they began to translate or collect it. These means of discovery were political travels (Streithagen), ecclesiastical contacts (with the Church of England), household seminaries (Haak, Rulicius, Gribius), monetary collections (Haak and Rulicius), political offices (Haak), and more besides. Subsequently, Hartlib, Dury or others, learned about this familiarisation and turned it to good account. The Palatine men thus had their own goals, including the translation or dissemination of devotional literature, but used Hartlib’s circle as a platform to achieve them. In turn, other participants from Hartlib’s circle, such as Dury, had their own desiderata – such as the compilation of a body of divinity – which the projects of the Palatine persons fitted well.

The Palatine men thus made use of Hartlib’s circle, rather than joining in with all the goals, wish lists and activities of that network from the very beginning. Some of the Palatine men collaborated in other projects of the circle, e.g. in research on natural philosophy (Haak) or in educational efforts (Rulicius), while others were more loosely connected to these projects. This reinforces the assertion of Mark Greengrass, Michael Leslie and Timothy Raylor that, although the aim of universal reformation was common to members of Hartlib’s circle, “the gates to universal reformation” were “different to different people.”^[89] Moreover, there were sometimes strained relations between the Palatine men and leading figures of Hartlib’s circle, as the relationship between Rulicius and Dury shows.

Although the relationship of the Palatine persons to Hartlib’s circle was more of an instrumental nature, one of the desiderata of the Palatines was included in the wish list of Hartlib’s circle, namely the composition of a body of divinity. Furthermore, the aims and methods of the Palatine projects bear strong similarities with general ideals, strategies and criteria which were cherished by Hartlib, Dury, Comenius and others and which they derived in part from post-Ramist pedagogics.

First, there was the goal of universal learning and communication of knowledge: in the request of the German theologians to their English and Irish colleagues, and in Haak’s letters they all mentioned as the main motive for their planned project the making accessible to everyone of knowledge that would otherwise remain hidden and to do other people good. The sharing of knowledge thus served the public interest.

Second, the request of the German theologians reveals that they also shared Dury’s main goal, the reconciliation of Protestant confessions. The Germans considered the reading of devotional literature profitable, as they expected that it would incite a striving for peace and harmony rather than for controversy. The dissemination of devotional literature, they considered, would therefore also further social cohesion as well as the “Protestant interest.”

Finally, the method of ordering information by means of a systema or by commonplaces comes to the fore in the abovementioned request, as well as in the dedication of Streithagen’s book on regeneration, here with a reference to Francis Bacon. The question is how Dury, who had a critical attitude towards systemata, saw the set-up of a systema of practical theology. This requires further research.

From the fact that people like Hartlib, Moriaen and Haak dealt both with matters of theology and natural philosophy, it can be concluded that they did not see any conflict between these issues. As we have seen at the beginning of this article, Hartlib regarded communication on scientific matters as a spiritual and Christ-related activity.^[90] The experimental way of pursuing science corresponded with religious experience, which Puritan-minded theologians considered indispensable.

The collecting, translating and commonplacing of English devotional books, then, was an endeavour associated with several of the main aims and methods of members of Hartlib’s circle. The examples that have been explored here demonstrate that Hartlib’s network, with its scribal culture, was used by the Palatine men as a platform for the collecting of source texts, the production of translations, and the encouragement of translators.

Other research shows that Hartlib was also involved in the dissemination or translation of Lutheran theological as well as spiritualistic, alchemical and optimistic apocalyptic literature. For example, Hartlib corresponded with the Austrian Johann Permeier in support of his attempts to have Johann Arndt’s Postilla translated into English. Moreover, he supported the Amsterdam publishing house of Hans Fabel, which between 1646 and 1650 printed books by Jacob Böhme, Abraham von Franckenberg, Ludwig Friedrich Gifftheil, Paul Felgenhauer and others. Fabel stayed in touch with Hartlib, through Moriaen (see above) and Rulicius as intermediaries, and ended up in Heidelberg in the early 1650s, where he moved in the same circles as Samuel Browne (see above) and associates.^[91] It seems that arising from these connections of Hartlib, just as with his contacts with the Palatine men, pre-existing projects of others came to light that were later supported by Hartlib. However, further comparative research is called for to clarify this.