But Confucius’s belief in the heaven-sent nature of his mission raised him above fear.  “After the death of King Wan,” said he, “was not the cause of truth lodged in me?  If Heaven had wished to let this sacred cause perish, I should not have been put into such a relation to it.  Heaven will not let the cause of truth perish, and what therefore can the people of Kwang do to me?” Saying which he tuned his lyre, and sang probably some of those songs from his recently compiled Book of Odes which breathed the wisdom of the ancient emperors.

From some unexplained cause, but more probably from the people of Kwang discovering their mistake than from any effect produced by Confucius’ ditties, the attacking force suddenly withdrew, leaving the Sage free to go wherever he listed.  This misadventure was sufficient to deter him from wandering farther a-field, and, after a short stay at Poo, he returned to Wei.  Again the duke welcomed him to the capital, though it does not appear that he renewed his stipend, and even his consort Nan-tsze forgot for a while her intrigues and debaucheries at the news of his arrival.  With a complimentary message she begged an interview with the Sage, which he at first refused; but on her urging her request, he was fain obliged to yield the point.  On being introduced into her presence, he found her concealed behind a screen, in strict accordance with the prescribed etiquette, and after the usual formalities they entered freely into conversation.

Tsze-loo was much disturbed at this want of discretion, as he considered it, on the part of Confucius, and the vehemence of his master’s answer showed that there was a doubt in his own mind whether he had not overstepped the limits of sage-like propriety.  “Wherein I have done improperly,” said he, “may Heaven reject me! may Heaven reject me!” This incident did not, however, prevent him from maintaining friendly relations with the court, and it was not until the duke by a public act showed his inability to understand the dignity of the role which Confucius desired to assume, that he lost all hope of finding employment in the state of his former patron.  On this occasion the duke drove through the streets of his capital seated in a carriage with Nan-tsze, and desired Confucius to follow in a carriage behind.  As the procession passed through the market-place, the people perceiving more clearly than the duke the incongruity of the proceeding, laughed and jeered at the idea of making virtue follow in the wake of lust.  This completed the shame which Confucius felt at being in so false a position.

“I have not seen one,” said he, “who loves virtue as he loves beauty.”  To stay any longer under the protection of a court which could inflict such an indignity upon him was more than he could do, and he therefore once again struck southward toward Ch’in.