constant changes. One day a new state carved out of an old
one would appear, and again it would disappear, or increase in size, as
the fortunes of war might determine. Thus while Confucius was in Ts'ae,
a part of Ts'oo declared itself independent, under the name of Ye, and
the ruler usurped the title of duke. In earlier days such rebellion
would have called forth a rebuke from Confucius; but it was otherwise
now, and, instead of denouncing the usurper as a rebel, he sought him as
a patron. The duke did not know how to receive his visitor, and asked
Tsze-loo about him. But Tsze-loo, possibly because he considered the
duke to be no better than Pih Hih, returned him no answer. For this
reticence Confucius found fault with him, and said, "Why did you not say
to him, 'He is simply a man who, in his eager pursuit of knowledge,
forgets his food; who, in the joy of its attainments, forgets his
sorrows; and who does not perceive that old age is coming on?'"

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