ey have quite
enough of Arabic at home, and that the question about the Hegira was
rather mal a propos to one used to prey on the flesh of hadjis. 'Now I
only wish he would vouchsafe me a little of his learning,' thought the
boy to himself, and in this wish he was at last gratified, for the Lion,
after asking him whether he was acquainted at all with the Sclavonian
languages, and being informed that he was not, absolutely dumbfoundered
him by a display of Sclavonian erudition.

Years rolled by--the writer was a good deal about, sometimes in London,
sometimes in the country, sometimes abroad; in London he occasionally met
the man of the spectacles, who was always very civil to him, and, indeed,
cultivated his acquaintance. The writer thought it rather odd that,
after he himself had become acquainted with the Sclavonian languages and
literature, the man of the spectacles talked little or nothing about
them. In a little time, however, the matter ceased to cause him the
slightest surprise, for he had discovered a key to the mystery. In the
meantime the man of the spectacles was busy enough; he speculated in
commerce, failed, and paid his creditors twenty pennies in the pound;
published translations, of which the public at length became heartily
tired; having, indeed, got an inkling of the manner in which those
translations were got up. He managed, however, to ride out many a storm,
having one trusty sheet-anchor--Radicalism. This he turned to the best
advantage--writing pamphlets and articles in reviews, all in the Radical
interest, and for which he was paid out of the Radical fund; which
articles and pamphlets, when Toryism seemed to reel on its last legs,
exhibited a slight tendency to Whiggism. Nevertheless, his abhorrence of
desertion of principle was so great in the time of the Duke of
Wellington's administration, that when S--- {374} left the Whigs and went
over, he told the writer, who was about that time engaged with him in a
literary undertaking, that the said S--- was a fellow with a character so
infamous, that any honest man would rather that you should spit in his
face than insult his ears with the mention of the name of S---.

The literary project having come to nothing--in which, by-the-by, the
writer was to have all the labour, and his friend all the credit,
provided any credit should accrue from it--the writer did not see the
latter for some years, during which time considerable political changes
too