"I need a compiler no
longer--maintain yourself, by your own creations." And Leonard wrote,
and a work flowered up from the seed deep buried, and the soil well
cleared to the rays of the sun and the healthful influence of expanded
air.

That first work did not penetrate to a very wide circle of readers, not
from any perceptible fault of its own--there is luck in these things;
the first anonymous work of an original genius is rarely at once
eminently successful. But the more experienced recognized the promise of
the book. Publishers who have an instinct in the discovery of available
talent, which often forestalls the appreciation of the public,
volunteered liberal offers. "Be fully successful this time," said
Norreys; "think not of models nor of style. Strike at once at the common
human heart--throw away the corks--swim out boldly. One word more--never
write a page till you have walked from your room to Temple Bar, and,
mingling with men, and reading the human face, learn why great poets
have mostly passed their lives in cities."

Thus Leonard wrote again, and woke one morning to find himself famous.
So far as the chances of all professions dependent on health will
permit, present independence, and, with foresight and economy, the
prospects of future confidence were secured.

"And, indeed," said Leonard, concluding a longer but a simpler narrative
than is here told--"indeed, there is some chance that I may obtain at
once a sum that will leave me free for the rest of my life to select my
own subjects and write without care for remuneration. This is what I
call the true (and, perhaps, alas! the rare) independence of him who
devotes himself to letters. Norreys, having seen my boyish plan for the
improvement of certain machinery in the steam-engine, insisted on my
giving much time to mechanics. The study that once pleased me so
greatly, now seemed dull; but I went into it with a good heart; and the
result is, that I have improved so far on my original idea, that my
scheme has met the approbation of one of our most scientific engineers;
and I am assured that the patent for it will be purchased of me upon
terms which I am ashamed to name to you, so disproportioned do they seem
to the value of so simple a discovery. Meanwhile, I am already rich
enough to have realized the two dreams of my heart--to make a home in
the cottage where I had last seen you and Helen--I mean Miss Digby; and
to invite to that home her who had shelte