VENERATED SIRE,--It is now more than three thousand years ago that the
sublime moralist Tcheng How, on being condemned by a resentful
official to a lengthy imprisonment in a very inadequate oil jar,
imperturbably replied, "As the snail fits his impliant shell, so can
the wise adapt themselves to any necessity," and at once coiled
himself up in the restricted space with unsuspected agility. In times
of adversity this incomparable reply has often shone as a steadfast
lantern before my feet, but recently it struck my senses with a
heavier force, for upon presenting myself on the last occasion at the
place of exchange frequented by those who hitherto have carried out
your spoken promise with obliging exactitude, and at certain stated
intervals freely granted to this person a sufficiency of pieces of
gold, merely requiring in return an inscribed and signet-bearing
record of the fact, I was received with no diminution of sympathetic
urbanity, indeed, but with hands quite devoid of outstretched fulness.

In a small inner chamber, to which I was led upon uttering courteous
protests, one of solitary authority explained how the deficiency had
arisen, but owing to the skill with which he entwined the most
intricate terms in unbroken fluency, the only impression left upon my
superficial mind was, that the person before me was imputing the
scheme for my despoilment less to any mercenary instinct on the part
of his confederates, than to a want of timely precision maintained by
one who seemed to bear an agreeable-sounding name somewhat similar to
your own, and who, from the difficulty of reaching his immediate ear,
might be regarded as dwelling in a distant land. Encouraged by this
conciliatory profession (and seeing no likelihood of gaining my end
otherwise), I thereupon declared my willingness that the difference
lying between us should be submitted to the pronouncement of