of the _Kathaka Upanishad_. I had also to devote
some hours daily to the study of French; for, much as I grudged these
hours, I fully realized that in order to get full advantage from my
stay in Paris, I must first master French.

Next came the great question, how to make the acquaintance of Burnouf.
I did not know the world. I did not know whether I should write to him
first, in what language, and to what address. I knew Burnouf from his
books, and I felt a desperate respect for him. After a time Gathy
discovered his address for me, and I summoned up courage to call on
him. My French was very poor as yet, but I walked in and found a dear
old gentleman in his _robe de chambre_, surrounded by his books and
his children--four little daughters who were evidently helping him in
collecting and alphabetically arranging a number of slips on which he
had jotted down whatever had struck him as important in his reading
during the day. He received me with great civility, such as I had not
been accustomed to before. He spoke of some little book which I had
published, and inquired warmly after my teachers in Germany, such as
Brockhaus, Bopp, and Lassen. He told me I might attend his lectures in
the College de France, and he would always be most happy to give me
advice and help.

I at once felt perfect trust in the man, and was really _aux cieux_ to
have found such an adviser. He was, indeed, a fine specimen of the
real French savant. He was small, and his face was decidedly German,
with the _tete carree_ which one sees so often in Germany, only
lighted up by a constant sparkle, which is distinctively French. I
must have seemed very stupid to him when I tried to explain to him
what I really wanted to do in Paris. He told me himself afterwards
that he could not make me out at first. I wanted to study the Veda,
but I had told him at the same time that I thought the Vedic hymns
very stupid, and that I cared chiefly for their philosophy, that is,
the Upanishads. This was really not true, but it came up first in
conversation, and I thought it would show Burnouf that my interest in
the Veda was not simply philological, but philosophical also. No doubt
at first I chiefly copied the Upanishads and their commentaries, but
Burnouf was not pleased. "We know what is in the Upanishads," he used
to say, "but we want the hymns and their native comments." I soon came
to understand what he meant; I carefully attended his lectures, which
were on the