“Ha, the phoenix!  Ha, the phoenix! 
  How is Virtue lying prone! 
  Vain to chide for what is o’er,
  Plan to meet what’s yet in store. 
  Let alone!  Let alone! 
  Risky now to serve a throne.”

Confucius alighted, wishing to enter into conversation with him; but the man hurried along and left him, and he was therefore unable to get a word with him.

Ch’ang-tsue and Kieh-nih [34] were working together on some ploughed land.  Confucius was passing by them, and sent Tsz-lu to ask where the ford was.

Ch’ang-tsue said, “Who is the person driving the carriage?”

“Confucius,” answered Tsz-lu.

“He of Lu?” he asked.

“The same,” said Tsz-lu.

“He knows then where the ford is,” said he.

Tsz-lu then put his question to Kieh-nih; and the latter asked, “Who are you?”

Tsz-lu gave his name.

“You are a follower of Confucius of Lu, are you not?”

“You are right,” he answered.

“Ah, as these waters rise and overflow their bounds,” said he, “’tis so with all throughout the empire; and who is he that can alter the state of things?  And you are a follower of a learned man who withdraws from his chief; had you not better be a follower of such as have forsaken the world?” And he went on with his harrowing, without stopping.

Tsz-lu went and informed his Master of all this.  He was deeply touched, and said, “One cannot herd on equal terms with beasts and birds:  if I am not to live among these human folk, then with whom else should I live?  Only when the empire is well ordered shall I cease to take part in the work of reformation.”

Tsz-lu was following the Master, but had dropped behind on the way, when he encountered an old man with a weed-basket slung on a staff over his shoulder.  Tsz-lu inquired of him, “Have you seen my Master, sir?” Said the old man, “Who is your master?—­you who never employ your four limbs in laborious work; you who do not know one from another of the five sorts of grain!” And he stuck his staff in the ground, and began his weeding.

Tsz-lu brought his hands together on his breast and stood still.

The old man kept Tsz-lu and lodged him for the night, killed a fowl and prepared some millet, entertained him, and brought his two sons out to see him.

On the morrow Tsz-lu went on his way, and told all this to the Master, who said, “He is a recluse,” and sent Tsz-lu back to see him again.  But by the time he got there he was gone.

Tsz-lu remarked upon this, “It is not right he should evade official duties.  If he cannot allow any neglect of the terms on which elders and juniors should live together, how is it that he neglects to conform to what is proper as between prince and public servant?  He wishes for himself personally a pure life, yet creates disorder in that more important relationship.  When a gentleman undertakes public work, he will carry out the duties proper to it; and he knows beforehand that right principles may not win their way.”