ared together, and feel how
solitary I should have been without her--oh, then, I am instantly aware
that there is between us in common something infinitely closer and
better than if the same course of study had given us the same equality
of ideas; and I was forced to brace myself for a combat of intellect, as
I am when I fall in with a tiresome sage like yourself. I don't pretend
to say that Mrs. Riccabocca is a Mrs. Dale," added the parson, with
lofty candour,--"there is but one Mrs. Dale in the world; but still, you
have drawn a prize in the wheel matrimonial! Think of Socrates, and yet
he was content even with his--Xantippe!"

Dr. Riccabocca called to mind Mrs. Dale's "little tempers," and inly
rejoiced that no second Mrs. Dale had existed to fall to his own lot.
His placid Jemima gained by the contrast. Nevertheless he had the ill
grace to reply, "Socrates was a man beyond all imitation!--Yet I believe
that even he spent very few of his evenings at home. But revenons a nos
moutons, we are nearly at Mrs. Fairfield's cottage, and you have not yet
told me what you have settled as to Leonard."

The parson halted, took Riccabocca by the button, and informed him, in
very few words, that Leonard was to go to Lansmere to see some relations
there, who had the fortune, if they had the will, to give full career to
his abilities.

"The great thing, in the mean while," said the parson, "would be to
enlighten him a little as to what he calls--enlightenment."

"Ah!" said Riccabocca, diverted, and rubbing his hands, "I shall listen
with interest to what you say on that subject."

"And must aid me: for the first step in this modern march of
enlightenment is to leave the poor parson behind; and if one calls out
'Hold! and look at the sign-post,' the traveller hurries on the faster,
saying to himself, 'Pooh, pooh!--that is only the cry of the parson!'
But my gentleman, when he doubts me, will listen to you,--you're a
philosopher!"

"We philosophers are of some use now and then, even to parsons!"

"If you were not so conceited a set of deluded poor creatures already,
I would say 'Yes,'" replied the parson, generously; and, taking hold of
Riccabocca's umbrella, he applied the brass handle thereof, by way of a
knocker, to the cottage door.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Certainly it is a glorious fever,--that desire To Know! And there are
few sights in the moral world more sublime than that which many a garret
might afford, if Asmodeu