"As for the rest of my story, it may be briefly told. I followed the advice of the shopkeeper, and applied to a bookseller, who wrote to his correspondent in London. After a long interval, I was informed that if I wished to learn Chinese, I must do so through the medium of French; there being neither Chinese grammar nor dictionary in our language. I was at first very much disheartened. I determined, however, at last to gratify my desire of learning Chinese, even at the expense of learning French. I procured the books, and in order to qualify myself to turn them to account, took lessons in French from a little Swiss, the usher of a neighbouring boarding-school. I was very stupid in acquiring French; perseverance, however, enabled me to acquire a knowledge sufficient for the object I had in view. In about two years I began to study Chinese by myself, through the medium of the French." "Well," said I, "and how did you get on with the study of Chinese?" And then the old man proceeded to inform me how he got on with the study of Chinese, enumerating all the difficulties he had had to encounter; dilating upon his frequent despondency of mind, and occasionally his utter despair of ever mastering Chinese. He told me that more than once he had determined upon giving up the study, but then the misery in his head forthwith returned, to escape from which he had as often resumed it. It appeared, however, that ten years elapsed before he was able to use ten of the two hundred and fourteen keys which serve to undo the locks of Chinese writing. "And are you able at present to use the entire number?" I demanded. "Yes," said the old man; "I can at present use the whole number. I know the key for every particular lock, though I frequently find the wards unwilling to give way." "Has nothing particular occurred to you," said I, "during the time that you have been prosecuting your studies?" "During the whole time in which I have been engaged in these studies," said the old man, "only one circumstance has occurred which requires any particular mention--the death of my old friend the surgeon--who was carried off suddenly by a fit of apoplexy. His death was a great shock to me, and for a time interrupted my studies. His son, however, who succeeded him, was very kind to me, and, in some degree, supplied his father's place; and I gradually returned to my Chinese locks and keys." "And in applying keys to the Chinese locks you employ your time?" "Yes," said the old man, "in making out the inscriptions on the various pieces of porcelain, which I have at different times procured, I pass my time. The first inscription which I translated was that on the teapot of my beloved." "And how many other pieces of porcelain may you have at present in your possession?" "About fifteen hundred." "And how did you obtain them?" I demanded.