r a "spring," _qua_ "spring,"
does not retain at all; and besides, "a passion" ought not to "burn"
in one line, and be a "spring" in the next.

[43] The meaning appears _not_ to be, "great as" (is), _i.e._ "though
the territory is great."

THE END.

* * * * *

ENGLISH LESSONS

FOR

ENGLISH PEOPLE.

BY

THE REV. EDWIN A. ABBOTT, M.A.,

HEAD MASTER OF THE CITY OF LONDON SCHOOL;

AND

J. R. SEELEY, M.A.,

PROFESSOR OF MODERN HISTORY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.

"It is not so much a merit to know English as it is a shame not to
know it; and I look upon this knowledge as essential for an
Englishman, and not merely for a fine speaker."--ADAPTED FROM CICERO.

BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1883.

[Illustration: QUI LEGIT REGIT]

UNIVERSITY PRESS: JOHN WILSON & SON,
CAMBRIDGE.

TO THE

REV. G. F. W. MORTIMER, D.D.,

_Prebendary of St. Paul's Cathedral, late Head Master of the City of
London School_.

DEAR DOCTOR MORTIMER,

We have other motives, beside the respect and gratitude which must be
felt for you by all those of your old pupils who are capable of
appreciating the work you did at the City of London School, for asking
you to let us dedicate to you a little book which we have entitled
"English Lessons for English People."

Looking back upon our school life, we both feel that among the many
educational advantages which we enjoyed under your care, there was
none more important than the study of the works of Shakspeare, to
which we and our school-fellows were stimulated by the special prizes
of the Beaufoy Endowment.

We owe you a debt of gratitude not always owed by pupils to their
teachers. Many who have passed into a life of engrossing activity
without having been taught at school to use rightly, or to appreciate
the right use of, their native tongue, feeling themselves foreigners
amid the language of their country, may turn with some point against
their teachers the reproach of banished Bolingbroke:--

My tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up,
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony;
Within my mouth you have engaoled my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips,
And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance
Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,