A far more serious charge is indeed brought against him by Dr. Legge—that of insincerity (C. C., vol. i.—Prolegomena— p. 101). I hesitate to impugn the opinion of so competent a scholar; yet the evidence he has produced does not seem to me sufficient to sustain the indictment. Granting that he gave an unwelcome visitor the excuse of sickness, which was untrue, still, as we are ignorant of the reasons which led him to decline seeing the person in question, we cannot estimate the force of the motives that induced him to put forward a plea in conformity with the polite customs of his country. It does not appear, moreover, that he practiced an intentional deceit. And though on one occasion he may have violated an oath extorted by rebels who had him in their power, therein acting wrongly (as I think), it is always an open question how far promises made under such circumstances are binding on the conscience. Whatever failings, however, it may be necessary to admit, there can be no question of the preëminent purity alike of his life and doctrine. His is a character which, be its imperfections what they may, we cannot help loving; and there have been few, indeed, who would not have been benefited by the attempt to reach even that standard of virtue which he held up to the admiration of his disciples. A few quotations from the works in which his words and actions are preserved, will illustrate these remarks. In the tenth Book of the Analects (C. C., vol. i. p. 91-100), his manners, his garments, his mode of behavior under various circumstances, are elaborately described. There are not many personages in history of whom we have so minute a knowledge. We learn that "in his village" he "looked simple and sincere, and as if he were not able to speak." His reverence for his superiors seems to have been profound. "When the prince was present, his manner displayed respectful uneasiness; it was grave, but self-possessed." When going to an audience of the prince, "he ascended the dais, holding up his robe with both his hands, and his body bent; holding in his breath also, as if he dared not breathe. When he came out _from the audience_ (the italics, here and elsewhere, are in Legge), as soon as he had descended one step, he began to relax his countenance, and had a satisfied look. When he had got to the bottom of the steps, he advanced rapidly to his place, _with his arms_ like wings, and on occupying it, his manner _still_ showed respectful uneasiness." He was rather particular about his food, rejecting meat unless "cut properly," and with "its proper sauce."