CHAPTER XI 

At half-past nine of the clock on the evening of this memorable day, a
body of five-and-twenty stout young fellows, prize-winners, wrestlers,
boxers, and topers, of the Hillford Club, set forth on a march to Ipley
Common. 

Now, a foreigner, hearing of their destination and the provocation they
had endured, would have supposed that they were bent upon deeds of
vengeance; and it requires knowledge of our countrymen to take it as a
fact that the idea and aim of the expedition were simply to furnish the
offending Ipley boys a little music.  Such were the idea and the aim.
Hillford had nothing to do with consequences: no more than our England is
responsible when she sails out among the empires and hemispheres, saying,
'buy' and 'sell,' and they clamour to be eaten up entire.  Foreigners
pertinaciously misunderstand us.  They have the barbarous habit of
judging by results.  Let us know ourselves better.  It is melancholy to
contemplate the intrigues, and vile designs, and vengeances of other
nations; and still more so, after we have written so many pages of
intelligible history, to see them attributed to us.  Will it never be