Whatever ridicule may be thrown upon Mr. Dale's dissertations by the wit
of the enlightened, they had a considerable, and I think a beneficial
effect upon Leonard Fairfield--an effect which may perhaps create less
surprise, when the reader remembers that Leonard was unaccustomed to
argument, and still retained many of the prejudices natural to his
rustic breeding. Nay, he actually thought it possible that, as both
Riccabocca and Mr. Dale were more than double his age, and had had
opportunities not only of reading twice as many books, but of
contracting experience in wider ranges of life--he actually, I say,
thought it possible that they might be better acquainted with the
properties and distinctions of knowledge than himself. At all events,
the Parson's words were so far well-timed, that they produced in Leonard
very much of that state of mind which Mr. Dale desired to effect, before
communicating to him the startling intelligence that he was to visit
relations whom he had never seen, of whom he had heard but little, and
that it was at least possible that the result of that visit might be to
open to him greater facilities for instruction, and a higher degree in
life.
Without some such preparation, I fear that Leonard would have gone forth
into the world with an exaggerated notion of his own acquirements, and
with a notion yet more exaggerated as to the kind of power that such
knowledge as he possessed would obtain for itself. As it was, when Mr.
Dale broke to him the news of the experimental journey before him,
cautioning him against being over-sanguine, Leonard received the
intelligence with a serious meekness, and thoughts that were nobly
solemn.
When the door closed on his visitors, he remained for some moments
motionless, and in deep meditation: then he unclosed the door, and stole
forth. The night was already far advanced, the heavens were luminous
with all the host of stars. "I think," said the student, referring, in
later life, to that crisis in his destiny--"I think it was then, when I
stood alone, yet surrounded by worlds so numberless, that I first felt
the distinction between _mind_ and _soul_." "Tell me," said Riccabocca,
as he parted company with Mr. Dale, "whether you think we should have
given to Frank Hazeldean, on entering life, the same lecture on the
limits and ends of knowledge which we have bestowed on Leonard
Fairfield."
"My friend," quoth the Parson, with a touch of human conceit; "I have
ridden on horseback, and I know that some horses should be guided by the
bridle, and some should be urged by the spur."
"Cospetto!" said Riccabocca; "you contrive to put every experience of
yours to some use--even your journey on Mr. Hazeldean's pad. And I see
now why, in this little world of a village, you have picked up so
general an acquaintance with life."
"Did you ever read White's _Natural History of Selborne?_"
"No."
"Do so, and you will find that you need not go far to learn the habits
of birds, and know the difference between a swallow and a swift.--Learn
the difference in a village, and you know the difference wherever
swallows and swifts skim the air."
"Swallows and swifts!--true; but men--"
"Are with us all the year round--which is more than we can say of
swallows and swifts."
"Mr. Dale," said Riccabocca, taking off his hat, with great formality,
"if ever again I find myself in a dilemma, I will come to you instead of
to Machiavelli."
"Ah!" cried the Parson, "if I could but have a calm hour's talk with you
on the errors of the Papal relig--"
Riccabocca was off like a shot.