represents the household as organized; and the latter, which signifies the milker', (compare the English dug), recalls the patriarchal and Homeric times: the daughter went forth in the morning to milk the herds, as Rebecca went to the well for water, or as Ulysses encounters the Princess Nausicaa and her damsels on the banks of the river, whither they have come ostensibly to wash their clothes.

The researches in mythology are extensive and important. The systems of India, Greece, and Rome, have been found to coincide in many particulars, and to throw light each on the others. These comparisons show the existence of a simple nature-worship, in which the air occupies a prominent place under the name of Dyaus or Zeus; and they further furnish materials for tracing the progress of mythological development through the stages of the naively simple impersonation of the elements and natural agencies, the construction of an organized Pantheon, and the resolution of the deities into abstract notions and generalizations. This was the order in India, and probably in Greece and Rome; and we have here a basis for more general investigations.

We have thus given a very brief outline of the results of the study of Sanskrit: that is, investigations which have arisen from, and now to a considerable extent depend on, this study; and these can not be ignored by institutions claiming to give a thorough scientific culture. For a science has emerged, which has to do with the most interesting questions that can engage our attention; which has points of contact with psychology, with ethnology, and with theology. The field is extensive, and the laborers comparatively few. It ought to be opened to the young men of the South. If the opportunity be placed before them, and so the necessity for a distant journey be obviated, there will be many to lay hold of it. Besides the enthusiasm that it would excite, this science of comparative grammar has the great advantage that its materials are always at hand. It requires no costly machinery. In the common English words which we speak and read every day, in the ordinary expressions which we find in Cæsar and Xenophon, in Plautus and Homer, we have the subject matter. The acquisition of Sanskrit itself will re

quire a thorough study of the grammar, and a patient devotion to the literature. Then, after having laid a good foundation, we will find opportunity everywhere, in the school-room, in our ordinary reading, in our walks, to study language; and we may emulate the example of Mozart, who is said to have not infrequently paused in a game of billiards to draw out his notebook, and jot down a melody which had popped into his head. But along with this amusement, there will be demand enough for serious thought and patient labor. The science has its romantic side, leading us into the shadowy regions of the beginning of speech, accompanying our first father in his unaccustomed labor of inventing radicals and bestowing names, and tracing the progress from the primitive tongue to its descendants. But even here, it is not merely conjecture and fanciful theorizing which it invites, (though imagination has played no unimportant part in science, witness Kepler and Goethe), but profound consideration of the capacities of the primitive mind. If it be true that the mistiness and mystery sometimes seduce us into the fantastical and the dogmatic, it is also true that they may call forth something better,—a patient scientific analysis of facts which, from their commonness, their ultimateness, are peculiarly difficult to analyze.

The science of Linguistic, (and therefore Sanskrit, on which it is based), has a special claim on Southern men. We have left the investigation of the indigenous tongues of this continent almost entirely to foreigners. It belongs, however, in great part, naturally to us, and we have better opportunities than others of pursuing it. In truth, comparatively little has been done in this direction, and the means of arriving at scientific definiteness are every day becoming fewer. A little while, and the aboriginal races will have passed away. How much can now be recovered of the languages of the great civilized peoples who inhabited the southern part of the continent, or of the races who preceded the present tribes, it is hard to say. But it is of great importance to lay hold of what remains. These languages belong to a very interesting family; the Turanian or agglutinizing, in which modifications of the idea of the radical are expressed by a mechanical addition of suffixes, and they are with

But

out the symmetry and smoothness of inflecting tongues. they may represent a transition period. As the germ of the human being passes through a state in which it is apparently identical with that of the brute, (differing only in internal capacity of development), so may the polished tongues of the Greeks and East Indians have had a form in which they were not distinguishable from the less cultivated. The separating, developing power lay hidden in the national mind and character. But the inflecting languages have passed this stage, and present themselves to us with the prefixes and affixes so fused with the root as to be often unrecognizable. If we can seize the crystallized intermediate form, we may learn the laws of formation, as the human embryo may be studied from the lower animal existences. This intermediate form is furnished by the Turanian family. And in the American dialects there is variety enough, and similarity enough, to invite research, and opportunity to do good service in the cause of science. To accomplish this, there must be preparatory training. Something has already been done by sound scholars, but the great body of observers only accumulate facts whose significance they do not know, and from which, therefore, they are not capable of drawing valuable conclusions. We need men who can go to work systematically; who can give definite shape to the mass of facts which are clearly known, accumulate new matter, and breathe life into the dead body. William von Humboldt's great work on the Kavi-language is a philosophical investigation of a dialect which belongs to this same Turanian group, and he has made it the occasion of the most useful general discussions. The accomplished English philologist, Richard Garnett, has drawn largely on this family, for proof and illustration of his positions in respect to various inflectional signs; and it is certain that the fund of illustration is not yet exhausted. The science which determines the principles on which such investigations must proceed is a necessity, and will commend itself to all who are interested in the study of our aboriginal languages; and the duty of supplying the means for pursuing the science, devolves on our universities and colleges.

No doubt, to many of our readers who admit the necessity of

instruction in Sanskrit and Linguistics, a question will present itself as to the practicability of its present introduction into Southern institutions; and we may here advert briefly to the subject. We do not forget the untowardness of the political and financial condition of the country. Unsettled and excited as we are, there may be difficulty in arousing the popular mind to a due consideration of the importance of so abstract a thing as a science which has to do chiefly with words, or so remote a thing as the dead language of an Oriental people. And even if sufficient interest were excited, there might be difficulty in finding the money to give it practical expression.

While this is true, its importance seems to us to be greatly diminished by the following considerations: In the first place, the cultivation of science depends on the few, rather than on the many. Even in the most flourishing Art-periods, as at Athens and Florence, it was the power of a few men that gave encouragement and direction to Art. And, universally, the first impulse must come, not from the mass, but from individuals; since it is not to be expected that the body of men will have time, or capacity, to make themselves acquainted with the good results which flow from a mental energy so different from their own. In the present case, then, if there be only a few to lay hold, though we may wish it otherwise, we are not to regard it as necessarily a ground of discouragement, and certainly not as a reason for holding back. In the next place, in spite of financial and other difficulties, much has been done lately for the support of education, and the encouragement of literature. The war left us crippled,- our lands devastated, our capital lost, our buildings destroyed, our commerce ruined,— a completer picture of prostration could hardly be found. And yet within three years, the majority of the colleges of the South have resumed operation, some of them with encouraging success, and literary periodicals have fared as well, certainly, as before the war. This shows the existence of a real interest in the matter, and proves that we may rely on the cultivated consciousness of our people, with whom now education is not an accomplishment, but a necessity. And if so much has been done, then certainly more may be done. But the establishment of a new chair in a uni

versity or college would not necessarily demand any expenditure of its funds. Such chair may be self-supporting. In this particular case, the proceeds from tuition-fees might not at first be large. But they would yield a support, and the income would gradually increase. It is the general experience, that the extension of the course of instruction is pecuniarily beneficial to a college; and naturally, since it offers greater inducements to students, and heightens the enthusiasm for study, it extends and intensifies the literary atmosphere. It is deficiency in this subject, which has been a source of weakness in our educational institutions. A new chair acts beneficially on the others, and is in its turn benefited by them. In the present case, it is probable that the subject would need only to be introduced to meet with support. And, in the last place, we must recognize it as a duty to foster science, even if it cost labor and self-denial. Generally, we are not called on to exercise the latter largely. A little hearty interest, a few well-directed efforts, will work wonders. Whatever men regard as a necessity, they usually accomplish. According to the scheme of the divine providence in the world, science is a necessity. For this particular direction of scientific effort, we have the ability and the opportunity. Undoubtedly, it will be followed in time; but the sooner we begin, the better. The purer our devotion to truth, the more splendid the gifts it confers.

ART. VI.-1. An Historical View of the Government of Maryland from its Colonization to the Present Day. By John V. L. McMahon. Baltimore: F. Lucas, Jr. & Co. 1831. 2. The History of Maryland, from its first Settlement in 1633 to the Restoration in 1660. By John Leeds Bozman. Baltimore: Lucas & Deaver. 1837.