But whatever may have been the opinion of Tsze-loo, Confucius was quite ready to be on friendly terms with the duke, who seems to have had no keener relish for Confucius’ ethics than the other rulers to whom he had offered his services.  We are only told of one conversation which took place between the duke and the Sage, and on that occasion the duke questioned him on the subject of government.  Confucius’ reply was eminently characteristic of the man.  Most of his definitions of good government would have sounded unpleasantly in the ears of a man who had just thrown off his master’s yoke and headed a successful rebellion, so he cast about for one which might offer some excuse for the new duke by attributing the fact of his disloyalty to the bad government of his late ruler.  Quoting the words of an earlier sage, he replied, “Good government obtains when those who are near are made happy, and those who are far off are attracted.”

Returning from Ye to Ts’ae, he came to a river which, being unbridged, left him no resource but to ford it.  Seeing two men whom he recognized as political recluses ploughing in a neighboring field, he sent the ever-present Tsze-loo to inquire of them where best he could effect a crossing.  “Who is that holding the reins in the carriage yonder?” asked the first addressed, in answer to Tsze-loo’s inquiry.  “Kung Kew,” replied the disciple, “Kung Kew, of Loo?” asked the ploughman.  “Yes,” was the reply. “He knows the ford,” was the enigmatic answer of the man as he turned to his work; but whether this reply was suggested by the general belief that Confucius was omniscient, or by wry of a parable to signify that Confucius possessed the knowledge by which the river of disorder, which was barring the progress of liberty and freedom, might be crossed, we are only left to conjecture.  Nor from the second recluse could Tsze-loo gain any practical information.  “Who are you, sir?” was the somewhat peremptory question which his inquiry met with.  Upon his answering that he was a disciple of Confucius, the man, who might have gathered his estimate of Confucius from the mouth of Laou-tsze, replied:  “Disorder, like a swelling flood, spreads over the whole empire, and who is he who will change it for you?  Rather than follow one who merely withdraws from this court to that court, had you not better follow those who (like ourselves) withdraw from the world altogether?” These words Tsze-loo, as was his wont, repeated to Confucius, who thus justified his career:  “It is impossible to associate with birds and beasts as if they were the same as ourselves.  If I associate not with people, with mankind, with whom shall I associate?  If right principles prevailed throughout the empire, there would be no necessity for me to change its state.”