ith Tse Kao,
another disciple, he had left behind in Wei holding office under
the duke. Now news came that a revolution had broken out there.
"Tse Kao will return," said he; "but Tse Lu will die." So it
fell. Tse Kao, finding the duke's cause hopeless, made his
escape; but Tse Lu fought the forlorn hope to the end, and died
like a hero. Only Tse Kung, of the three, was left to him. Who
one morning, when he went to the Master's house, found him
walking to and fro before the door crooning over this verse:

"The great mountain must crumble,
The strong beam must break.
The wise man must wither like a flower."

Heavy-hearted, Tse Kung followed him in.--"What makes you so
late?" said Confucius; and then: "According to the rites of
Hia, the dead lay in state at the top of the eastern steps, as if
he were the host. Under the Shangs, it was between the two
pillars he lay, as if he were both host and guest. The rite of
the Chows is for him to lie at the top of the western steps,
as if he were the guest. I am a man of Shang,"--it will be
remembered that he was descended from that royal house; "and
last night I dreamed that I was sitting between the pillars, with
offerings set out before me. No intelligent monarch arises; no
prince will make me his teacher. My time has come to die."--That
day he took to his bed; his passing was a week later.

On the banks of the Sze his disciples buried him; and for three
years mourned at his grave. But Tse Kung built himself a cabin
at the graveside, and remained there three years longer. "All my
life," said he, "I have had heaven above my head, but I do not
know its height. I have had earth beneath my feet, but I have
not known its magnitude. I served Confucius: I was like a
thirsty man going with his pitcher to the river. I drank my
fill, but I never knew the depth of the water."

And Tse Kung was right; and what he felt then, one feels now.
You read Boswell, and have your Johnson in the hollow of
your hand: body, soul, and spirit: higher triad and lower
quaternary. Of Confucius we have a picture in some respects even
more detailed than Boswell's of Johnson; but when we have said
everything, we still feel that nothing has been said. Boswell
lets you in through his master's church-door; shows you nave and
aisle, vault and vestry; climbs with you to the belfry; stands
with you at the altar and in the pulpit; till you have seen
everything there is to s