exactitude, and has given with the explanation a proof of the perfect veracity and integrity of Hanno's narrative. In proceeding in this manner, that is as an eye-witness who has examined and verified for himself, M. Mer has proved that the Carthaginian admiral penetrated to the end of the Gulf of Guinea. He combats all the former contrary assertions by reasons which seem to us absolutely convincing. He indicates the places in which Hanno settled his colonies, seeks the river named Lixus, of which the narrative speaks, and considers it to be the Senegal. He proves that Cerne cannot be the island of Arguin, as has been said many times, still less the island of Fedal, which does not exist. Cerne, in his opinion, is the island of Goree, which exactly corresponds in everything to that described by Hanno. The Theon-Ochema, or Car of the Gods, which throws up to heaven a stream of flames, as before mentioned, is no other than the volcano of Camaroons, then in activity, and which is 4,197 mètres high. Lastly, the "western horn" is the river Benin, the southern, the mouth of the Calabar river, and the celebrated island Gorillas, the island of Fernando Po, where M. Mer himself re-discovered the hairy men and women of the Carthaginian admirál. Notwithstanding his unexceptional competency to treat the subject, M. Mer has had the modesty to present his work to a savant who had already written on the subject. The objections which M. Felix Robiou has submitted to him have been the sources of fresh explanations, which enhance the value of the work. M. Mer has rendered, we think, a real service, and it is by labours undertaken in this manner that the difficulties of the text are elucidated. Old errors are corrected, and truth is firmly established. If the statements made by M. Mer are admitted by science, he says there will be some geographical errors to rectify upon the maps of ancient geography, and also in the history of discoveries. But, in any case, we thank M. Mer for having cleared up some dark spots, and freed us from erroneous opinions. Error is not a mental inheritance; truth alone. enriches the human intelligence. X.* *We deeply regret that the talented and erudite writer of the above review died before he had an opportunity of seeing his article in proof. His death is a distinct loss to Catholic science, especially in France. IT ART. VI. THE FIRST CHINESE PHILOSOPHER; I. T may perchance be asked, on reading the title of this paper, what interest the lucubrations of a Chinese who lived more than twenty-three centuries ago can afford to European and Christian readers, and if it be worth while to spend one's time in speaking or reading of them. If we were to judge according to received ideas, the answer would certainly be negative. But I am convinced that those readers of the DUBLIN REVIEW who will peruse these pages will discover with me, that the meditations of the ancient doctor of the Celestial Empire are worth, at the very least, as much as those of a large number of the sages of Greece; that Anaximander, Anaximenes, Anaxagoras, Democritus, and others, who place the origin of things (primordial existence) in water, fire, or earth, are far behind the Chinese thinker. However, that is not the real interest of the question, which is to be found especially in the opposite uses that have been made of the work of Lao-tze, and the consequences it has had for humanity. Some see in him a predecessor of Schelling and Hegel, the first father of the philosophy of the non-existent; others, a déclassé Epicurean. On the other hand, there are some who attribute to him Judæo-Christian ideas, the knowledge of the Trinity, of the Divine Word, and so make him into a witness to primitive revelation. On yet another side, an ignorance of the part played by Lao-tze has caused a false appreciation of certain facts, whence have been drawn false consequences dangerous to Christianity. The Chinese is an atheist, it is said, and has always been so. We have clearly shown the falsehood of the second assertion.* Further on, it will be seen that Lao-tze was the first to attack the primitive monotheism of the Chinese. Again, the rapid propagation of Buddhism has been loudly vaunted, and its astonishing extension throughout that vast empire of 400 millions of men. It was not known that Lao-tze had prepared the way and opened the gates for it, and, moreover, that Chinese Buddhism had scarcely anything in common with that of India-with the religion of Çakya-muni. From all these points of view the system of the old Chinese DUBLIN REVIEW, July 1884. * "Primitive Religion of the Chinese: philosopher presents the greatest interest. Unfortunately, it has been for the most part wrongly appreciated, as we have just said, and that because it has been expounded in an incorrect manner. However, this need not astonish us. The book which contains the résumé of the system, and constitutes the sole source whence its principles can be drawn, is of great obscurity, and that for a triple reason. The language, in the first place, is very obscure. The master, creating a new system, introducing into his country ideas altogether new, had to give to ancient words meanings which they had not of themselves, and that without leaving in writing an exact indication of these unusual meanings. Moreover, his disciples have altered his doctrine, and have not preserved by tradition the sense which the founder of the school had attached to them. Lastly, in the course of time Chinese had undergone notable modifications, which render many ancient writings partially obscure. Certain words and characters have changed their meanings, or fallen into disuse; their exact value has been lost. Add to this the difficulties necessarily caused by the figurative character of the Chinese writing and the multiplicity of the meanings of words, and it will be understood how arduous is the task of seeking to interpret an ancient Chinese book. Happily, each new interpreter finds before him the works of his predecessors, which circumscribe his task, tracing a circle of evershortening radius. Again, the native commentators are often of great assistance. We think, therefore, that we shall be doing a useful service in exposing anew the system of the most ancient Chinese philosopher. The interest inspired by his history is all the more legitimate, as there is not question of a fact whose influence has been limited to the Celestial Empire. "Taoism," the system of which we desire to speak, has not only exercised a decisive influence on the religious and political history of its own country; it has also opened the way for Buddhism, allowed it to spread and take root in China, and to extend thence into Japan and countries farther still. Probably, on hearing mention of the most ancient Chinese philosopher, it will be thought that Confucius alone can be meant by this title. It is not he, however, who is the object of this short study, but his rival, less known, but probably worthy of being more known, the "Old Boy," Lao-tze. This expression, which may have caused astonishment, has not been chosen without reason. For, on the one hand, Kong-fou-tze (or Confucius) is less a philosopher than a moralist; on the other, his birth and the date of his first teaching are more recent than those of his rival, although he preceded the latter in the publicity given to his theories. II. To understand the part played by an historical personage, and the nature of the ideas which he diffused around him, we must, of course, realize exactly the medium in which he lived, the influences he underwent or against which he struggled. Let us therefore say a few words on the state of China at this time. From its very origin, the Celestial Empire had had, more than any other country, a fortune both happy and unhappy at the same time; that of witnessing the succession to supreme power of dynasties which all began with kings as full of virtue as of talent, and all ended with princes who were imbecile, corrupt, and cynically tyrannical. The Chow dynasty, which in the seventh century B.C. had been reigning for well nigh 500 years, had been no exception to the rule. At this epoch it was represented by weak and unprincipled emperors, who had let the empire disintegrate and almost be dissolved. The great feudatories had rendered themselves well nigh independent of the central power, and their residences were so many sovereign courts, leaving to the central power but a nominal authority. In this point of view the condition was that of France under the first Capetians. But besides this, corruption had spread on all sides. The simple manners of ancient times had been superseded by unbridled luxury and an unquenchable thirst for pleasures. The paternal and moralizing government of the ancient emperors had been succeeded by a power all the more tyrannical as it was divided among a host of petty princes, each of whom thought only of gratifying his pride and his appetites. The picture given by native historians of these unhappy times is truly distressing. As may well be believed, the ministers and other officials imitated their august masters, and rivalled them in tyranny and corruption. China, however, even at that time, was not wanting in superior men, who had escaped the general contagion, and who tried to resist the evil. By the side of examples of debasing degradation she offers us other men of heroic courage, who do very great honour to their country, and even to humanity. Let us quote but one. The last of the race which then dishonoured the throne, the infamous Chow, as he is called, was distinguished by his cruelties and his debaucheries. His uncle, the feudal sovereign of Ki, came to admonish him at his own court, and was cast into a narrow dungeon. He was advised to escape. "No," said he, my escape would disclose the step I have taken and the faults of the Emperor." Another prince, seeing this failure, thought himself obliged to return to the charge at the risk of his life; the Emperor had him cut in two and his heart torn out. Yet this did not keep back other ministers no less courageous.* Among these men there are two whose fame wipes out, so to speak, the disgrace branded by history on this epoch. Both, though of different ages, worked at the same epoch, and exercised on the destinies of their nation an influence which has lasted to the present day, and will end only with the nation itself. These were Kong-fou-tze, or rather Kong-tze (CONFUCIUS) and LAO-TZE. But though these two had a common aim in view, their particular views and characters were in striking contrast to each other. Kong-tze was a man of the Court, and belonging to the past; Lao-tze, a man of the present, and of the people. Kong-tze was above all things a moralist, and occupied himself exclusively with the reformation of morals; an embodiment of the past, he had ever before his eyes the examples of the ancient princes and their renowned wisdom; he sought to revive them, and to bring back his fellow-countrymen to the manners and virtues of ages long passed. Lao-tze, persuaded of the uselessness of these generous efforts, smiled at them, and sought a remedy for his countrymen in a new doctrine. Despairing of gaining the people who were busied with worldly matters, he was content to form in solitude a few tried disciples. At this juncture, then, were born and lived these men, who, under very different conditions, made their country illustrious. For, if history has preserved the remembrance of the least events which marked the life of Kong-tze, on the other hand it has transmitted hardly anything relative to the chief of the Taoists. The books of his disciples, it is true, are filled with incidents of which he is the hero; but they are only imaginary incidents, marvellous deeds, invented to please, and, later, to raise the chief of the school to the level of the Buddhist saints. All that can be known that is real and authentic is limited to a few lines of the She-Ki, or historical annals written by the illustrious Sse-ma-tzien at the end of the third century B.C. The following is a literal, or almost literal, translation of this passage: Lao-tze was born in the village of Kiu k-zhin, in the district of Li and in the township of Khu, in the kingdom of Chow. Li washis, family name; El, that of his infancy; Pek-yang, that of his youth; and Tam, his posthumous title. Nothing is known of his youth; no trace is left of it; even that which is known of his after-years is very uncertain and unreliable. At [Our author continues:] He was archivist of the State of Chow. that time Confucius had set himself to traverse the different States This example, and several similar ones, will be found in the translation of the Siao Kio," which is being published at present. |