t dumm,
Und thaten oft was wir nicht sollten;
Doch jetzo kehrt sich alles um und um,
Und eben da wir's fest erhalten wollten."

We were no fools, as every one discern'd,
And stopp'd at nought our projects in fulfilling;
But now the world seems topsy-turvy turn'd,
To keep it quiet just when we were willing.

Now, this class of individuals entertain a mortal hatred for Lavengro and
its writer, and never lose an opportunity of vituperating both. It is
true that such hatred is by no means surprising. There is certainly a
great deal of difference between Lavengro and their own sons; the one
thinking of independence, and philology, whilst he is clinking away at
kettles, and hammering horse-shoes in dingles; the others stuck up at
public offices with gilt chains at their waistcoat-pockets, and giving
themselves the airs and graces of females of a certain description. And
there certainly _is_ a great deal of difference between the author of
Lavengro and themselves--he retaining his principles and his brush; they
with scarlet breeches on, it is true, but without their republicanism and
their tails. Oh, the writer can well afford to be vituperated by your
pseudo-Radicals of '32!

Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his wife; but
the matter is too rich not to require a chapter to itself.

CHAPTER XI. THE OLD RADICAL.

"This very dirty man, with his very dirty face,
Would do any dirty act, which would get him a place."

Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his wife; but
before he relates the manner in which they set upon him, it will be as
well to enter upon a few particulars tending to elucidate their reasons
for doing so.

The writer had just entered into his eighteenth year, when he met at the
table of a certain Anglo-Germanist, an individual, apparently somewhat
under thirty, of middle stature, a thin and weaselly figure, a sallow
complexion, a certain obliquity of vision, and a large pair of
spectacles. This person, who had lately come from abroad, and had
published a volume of translations, had attracted some slight notice in
the literary world, and was looked upon as a kind of lion in a small
provincial capital. After dinner he argued a great deal, spoke
vehemently against the Church, and uttered the most desperate Radicalism
that was perhaps ever heard, saying, he hoped that in a short time there
would not be a king