with the monster, invoked the saints no more,
but--

To make him strong and mighty--
He drank by the tale
Six pots of ale
And a quart of aqua-vitae.

So ended the sublime sport of dragon-slaying. Its only remnant may
now be seen in Borneo, whither that noble Christian man, Bishop
Macdougall, took out the other day a six-chambered rifle, on the
ground that "while the alligators ate his school-children at Sarawak,
it was his duty as a bishop to shoot the alligators."

ON ENGLISH COMPOSITION

Introductory Lectures given at Queen's College, London, 1848.

An introductory lecture on English composition is, I think, as much
needed as one on any other subject taught in this College. For in
the first place, I am not sure whether we all mean the same thing
when we speak of English composition; and in the next place, I
believe that pupils themselves are very often best able to tell their
teachers what sort of instruction they require. I purpose therefore
to-day, not only to explain freely my intentions with regard to this
course of lectures, but to ask you to explain freely your own wants.

I must suppose, however, that the ladies who attend here wish to be
taught how to write English better. Now the art of writing English
is, I should say, the art of speaking English, and speech may be used
for any one of three purposes: to conceal thought, as the French
diplomatist defined its use; to conceal the want of thought, as the
majority of popular writers and orators seem nowadays to employ it;
or, again, to express thought, which would seem to have been the
original destination of the gift of language. I am therefore, I
suppose, in duty bound to take for granted that you come here to be
taught to express your thoughts better.

The whole matter then will very much depend on what thoughts you have
to express. For the form of the symbol must depend on the form of
the thing symbolised, as the medal does upon its die; and thus style
and language are the sacraments of thoughts, the outward and visible
signs of the inward and spiritual grace, or want of grace, in the
writer. And even where language is employed to conceal either
thought, or want thereof, it generally tells a truer tale than it was
meant to do. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth must speak,
and the hollowness or foolishness of the spirit will show itself, in
spite of all cunning sleights, in unconscious peculiarities or
defects o