abstained from any rejoinder.  We nowhere read of his engaging in a dispute.  When an opponent arose, it was in keeping with the doctrine of Confucius to retire before him.  “A sage,” he said, “will not enter a tottering state nor dwell in a disorganized one.  When right principles of government prevail he shows himself, but when they are prostrated he remains concealed.”  And carrying out the same principle in private life, he invariably refused to wrangle.

It was possibly in connection with this incident that Confucius drew the attention of his disciples to the metal statue of a man with a triple clasp upon his mouth, which stood in the ancestral temple at Lo.  On the back of the statue were inscribed these words:  “The ancients were guarded in their speech, and like them we should avoid loquacity.  Many words invite many defeats.  Avoid also engaging in many businesses, for many businesses create many difficulties.”

“Observe this, my children,” said he, pointing to the inscription.  “These words are true, and commend themselves to our reason.”

Having gained all the information he desired in Chow, he returned to Loo, where pupils flocked to him until, we are told, he was surrounded by an admiring company of three thousand disciples.  His stay in Loo was, however, of short duration, for the three principal clans of the state, those of Ke, Shuh, and Mang, after frequent contests between themselves, engaged in a war with the reigning duke, and overthrew his armies.  Upon this the duke took refuge in the state of T’se, whither Confucius followed him.  As he passed along the road he saw a woman weeping at a tomb, and having compassion on her, he sent his disciple Tsze-loo to ask her the cause of her grief.  “You weep as if you had experienced sorrow upon sorrow,” said Tsze-loo.  “I have,” said the woman, “my father-in-law was killed here by a tiger, and my husband also; and now my son has met the same fate.”  “Why, then, do you not remove from the place?” asked Confucius.  “Because here there is no oppressive government,” replied the woman.  On hearing this answer, Confucius remarked to his disciples, “My children remember this, oppressive government is fiercer than a tiger.”

Possibly Confucius was attracted to T’se by a knowledge that the music of the emperor Shun was still preserved at the court.  At all events, we are told that having heard a strain of the much-desired music on his way to the capital, he hurried on, and was so ravished with the airs he heard that for three months he never tasted flesh.  “I did not think,” said he, “that music could reach such a pitch of excellence.”