CHAPTER XV.

Unconscious of the change in his fate which the diplomacy of the Parson

sought to effect, Leonard Fairfield was enjoying the first virgin

sweetness of fame; for the principal town in his neighborhood had

followed the then growing fashion of the age, and set up a Mechanic's

Institute; and some worthy persons interested in the formation of that

provincial Athenaeum had offered a prize for the best Essay on the

Diffusion of Knowledge,--a very trite subject, on which persons seem to

think they can never say too much, and on which there is, nevertheless,

a great deal yet to be said. This prize Leonard Fairfield had recently

won. His Essay had been publicly complimented by a full meeting of the

Institute; it had been printed at the expense of the Society, and had

been rewarded by a silver medal--delineative of Apollo crowning Merit,

(poor Merit had not a rag to his back; but Merit, left only to the care

of Apollo, never is too good a customer to the tailor!) And the County

Gazette had declared that Britain had produced another prodigy in the

person of Dr. Riccabocca's self-educated gardener.

Attention was now directed to Leonard's mechanical contrivances. The

Squire, ever eagerly bent on improvements, had brought an engineer to

inspect the lad's system of irrigation, and the engineer had been

greatly struck by the simple means by which a very considerable

technical difficulty had been overcome. The neighboring farmers now

called Leonard "_Mr._ Fairfield," and invited him on equal terms, to

their houses. Mr. Stirn had met him on the high road, touched his hat,

and hoped that "he bore no malice." All this, I say, was the first

sweetness of fame; and if Leonard Fairfield comes to be a great man, he

will never find such sweets in the after fruit. It was this success

which had determined the Parson on the step which he had just taken, and

which he had long before anxiously meditated. For, during the last year

or so, he had renewed his old intimacy with the widow and the boy; and

he had noticed, with great hope and great fear, the rapid growth of an

intellect, which now stood out from the lowly circumstances that

surrounded it in bold and unharmonizing relief.

It was the evening after his return home that the Parson strolled up to

the Casino. He put Leonard Fairfield's Prize Essay in his pocket. For he

felt that he could not let the young man go forth into the world without

a preparatory lecture, and he intended to scourge poor Merit with the

very laurel wreath which it had received from Apollo. But in this he

wanted Riccabocca's assistance; or rather he feared that, if he did not

get the Philosopher on his side, the Philosopher might undo all the work

of the Parson.

The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 2, May, 1851 · 第 2 / 13 章