Again, Lao-tzŭ’s philosophy is eminently an ethical or rather a politico-ethical system. All his teachings aim at making man a better individual, and a better member of society. Whatever the subject be on which he discourses, there is generally a moral allusion or a moral lesson taught in allegory; and the high value which he assigns to moral excellence above all showy accomplishments deserves our greatest commendation, even though we dissent from his disparaging view of intellectual acquirements. He appeals more to the heart than to the mind—more to the Hebraistic side of our nature than to the Hellenistic (to use Mr. Matthew Arnold’s language); and the _Tao-tê ching_ is more a book of skeleton sermons than a book of “reasoned truth.” The intellect, indeed, is not only depressed; but is even sometimes spoken of unfavourably, as opposed to the beneficial operation of Nature (_Tao_) on men’s hearts. Further, the system of Lao-tzŭ is one purely speculative, and _a priori_ (in the Kantian sense). There is in it no gathering of facts—no questioning of nature—no rising from particular facts or truths of greater and greater generality. There is, in short, little or nothing of the spirit of the inductive philosophy of modern times to be found in the _Tao-tê ching_. It “nobly takes the _a priori_ road,” beginning with the universal cause, and coming down to particular facts; frames hypotheses about nature and morals, and tries to make existing circumstances conform to them. This is the character, however, which it has in common with nearly all early systems of philosophy, and even with some of very modern times. An utterly wrong method we believe it to be; but we can easily forgive it in Lao-tzŭ, when we take into consideration the circumstances amid which he lived, and the nature and amount of the materials at his hand. The last characteristic of Lao-tzŭ’s teachings to which I shall allude at present is that they are all imbued with a genial and sympathetic spirit, regarding man not merely as an individual, and not merely as a member of human society, but also a citizen of the universe, if I may use the expression. Modesty, gentleness, forbearance, and self-denial are his constant watchwords. He ever inculcates on man, especially in his highest development, a sympathy not only with his fellow men, but also with all the creatures of the earth, and even with inanimate nature. This doctrine results, no doubt, from the leading idea that all owe their origin to the one all-producing, all-nourishing nature; and it is a doctrine of which Lao-tzŭ seems to have been very fond. He frequently alludes to it as the duty and advantage of man to be humble, gentle, and never striving; and he utterly abhors the idea of violence, and the ostentation of superiority. He goes to excess, however, I think, in his notions about a peaceful, non-interfering mode of life; and carries his doctrine of the imitation of Nature (_Tao_) to unwarranted lengths.