dead. His effigy smiles from a canvas or two. Breechless
he bestrides his steed in Trafalgar Square. I believe he still wears his
robes at Madame Tussaud's (Madame herself having quitted Baker Street
and life, and found him she modelled t'other side the Stygian stream).
On the head of a five-shilling piece we still occasionally come upon
him, with St. George, the dragon-slayer, on the other side of the
coin. Ah me! did this George slay many dragons? Was he a brave, heroic
champion, and rescuer of virgins? Well! well! have you and I overcome
all the dragons that assail US? come alive and victorious out of all the
caverns which we have entered in life, and succored, at risk of life
and limb, all poor distressed persons in whose naked limbs the dragon
Poverty is about to fasten his fangs, whom the dragon Crime is poisoning
with his horrible breath, and about to crunch up and devour? O my royal
liege! O my gracious prince and warrior! YOU a champion to fight that
monster? Your feeble spear ever pierce that slimy paunch or plated back?
See how the flames come gurgling out of his red-hot brazen throat! What
a roar! Nearer and nearer he trails, with eyes flaming like the lamps of
a railroad engine. How he squeals, rushing out through the darkness
of his tunnel! Now he is near. Now he is HERE. And now--what?--lance,
shield, knight, feathers, horse and all? O horror, horror! Next day,
round the monster's cave, there lie a few bones more. You, who wish to
keep yours in your skins, be thankful that you are not called upon to go
out and fight dragons. Be grateful that they don't sally out and swallow
you. Keep a wise distance from their caves, lest you pay too dearly for
approaching them. Remember that years passed, and whole districts were
ravaged, before the warrior came who was able to cope with the devouring
monster. When that knight DOES make his appearance, with all my heart
let us go out and welcome him with our best songs, huzzas, and laurel
wreaths, and eagerly recognize his valor and victory. But he comes only
seldom. Countless knights were slain before St. George won the battle.
In the battle of life are we all going to try for the honors of
championship? If we can do our duty, if we can keep our place pretty
honorably through the combat, let us say, Laus Deo! at the end of it, as
the firing ceases, and the night falls over the field.

The old were middle-aged, the elderly were in their prime, then, thirty
years since, w