--'

Here the old man drew his hand before his eyes and remained for some time
without speaking; at length he removed his hand, and commenced again with
a broken voice: 'You will pardon me if I hurry over this part of my
story; I am unable to dwell upon it. How dwell upon a period when I saw
my only earthly treasure pine away gradually day by day, and knew that
nothing could save her! She saw my agony, and did all she could to
console me, saying that she was herself quite resigned. A little time
before her death she expressed a wish that we should be united. I was
too happy to comply with her request. We were united, I brought her to
this house, where, in less than a week, she expired in my arms.'

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE OLD MAN'S STORY CONTINUED--MISERY IN THE HEAD--THE STRANGE
MARKS--TEA-DEALER FROM LONDON--DIFFICULTIES OF THE CHINESE LANGUAGE

After another pause the old man once more resumed his narration: 'If ever
there was a man perfectly miserable it was myself, after the loss of that
cherished woman. I sat solitary in the house, in which I had hoped in
her company to realize the choicest earthly happiness, a prey to the
bitterest reflections; many people visited and endeavoured to console
me--amongst them was the clergyman of the parish, who begged me to be
resigned, and told me that it was good to be afflicted. I bowed my head,
but I could not help thinking how easy it must be for those who feel no
affliction, to bid others to be resigned, and to talk of the benefit
resulting from sorrow; perhaps I should have paid more attention to his
discourse than I did, provided he had been a person for whom it was
possible to entertain much respect, but his own heart was known to be set
on the things of this world.

'Within a little time he had an opportunity, in his own case, of
practising resignation, and of realizing the benefit of being afflicted.
A merchant, to whom he had entrusted all his fortune, in the hope of a
large interest, became suddenly a bankrupt, with scarcely any assets. I
will not say that it was owing to this misfortune that the divine died
within less than a month after its occurrence, but such was the fact.
Amongst those who most frequently visited me was my friend the surgeon;
he did not confine himself to the common topics of consolation, but
endeavoured to impress upon me the necessity of rousing myself, advising
me to occupy my mind with some pursuit, particularly recommending
a