Unfortunately, this person had been so deeply engrossed all his life
in literary pursuits that he had never found an opportunity to glance
at the works in question, or he would have escaped the embarrassing
position in which he now found himself.
"It was with a hopeless sense of illness of ease that this unhappy one
reached the day on which the printed leaves already alluded to would
make known their deliberate opinion of his writing, the extremity of
his hope being that some would at least credit him with honourable
motives, and perhaps a knowledge that if the inspired Lo Kuan Chan had
never been born the entire matter might have been brought to a very
different conclusion. Alas! only one among the many printed leaves
which made reference to the venture contained any words of friendship
or encouragement. This benevolent exception was sent forth from a city
in the extreme Northern Province of the Empire, and contained many
inspiring though delicately guarded messages of hope for the one to
whom they gracefully alluded as 'this undoubtedly youthful, but
nevertheless, distinctly promising writer of books.' While admitting
that altogether they found the production undeniably tedious, they
claimed to have discovered indications of an obvious talent, and
therefore they unhesitatingly counselled the person in question to
take courage at the prospect of a moderate competency which was
certainly within his grasp if he restrained his somewhat
over-ambitious impulses and closely observed the simple subjects and
manner of expression of their own Chang Chow, whose 'Lines to a
Wayside Chrysanthemum,' 'Mongolians who Have,' and several other
composed pieces, they then set forth.
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