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 neighbourhood had
followed the then growing fashion of the age, and set up a Mechanics'
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 neighbouring 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.