Reuchlin and Cheke. Their hearers were the young men who aspired to erudition, or at least to a place among the cultivated people of the time.

Now it is precisely this class which determines the differentia of the educational system of a period; and to its greater extent in modern times, we must refer in great measure the difference between the new and old views on the subject. The training of the lowest class has not varied greatly in different ages of the world. It has usually been limited to the acquisition of the alphabet of learning, with such slight differences as difference of religion and social habits produced. Reading, writing, and arithmetic, have always been the basis of popular education. This Moses commanded, and this was the grammata of Athens in its simplest signification; beyond this, it is probable, the majority of children did not go. If music were added, as at Athens, (and now in Prussia), it was of an elementary character. Of course, we mean here by 'education' the cultivation of the mind, and have nothing to do with the bodily exercise of the gymnasium, or with that more general training which fits the man for what Dr. Arnold calls his second business, that is, the discharge of his social duties as man. We observe only that it is the practical which determines here also the extent of education, the supply being directly in proportion to the demand.

The same consideration governs in the provision made for higher education, and the demand will be determined by the spirit of the age. In modern times, the circle of cultivation has greatly enlarged itself; while at the same time, commerce and industry in general have taken hold of society, (the Aristocracy of England does not disdain to share the profits of Joint Stock Companies); and the practical' is understood to mean that which increases the physical or industrial capacity of the world, which gives man power over natural agencies, or as it actually presents itself to the mass, which puts money into the pocket. By many people, science and philosophy are understood to mean simply the natural sciences, and everything else is for them empty theory. The education of even the better class must fit them to comprehend and use the immediate minute facts of life, and of life as it presents itself in the restricted circle of the in

dividual. Schools are established to prepare young men independently for commerce, for agriculture, for any avocation. It has come to be believed that a knowledge of the classics, a mere acquaintance with the modes of communication of a dead race, the acquisition of ideas foreign to our own, is not worth the trouble required to gain it, since it does not actually guide a man in building a house or in making a bargain. The modern languages are pitted against the ancient, and their claims to superiority based on commercial relations; mensuration is held to be more valuable than the calculus, and the study of metaphysics useless and deservedly replaced by hygiene. In a word, mental training and love of truth are subordinated to a mechanical utility. The noble enthusiasm of learning, the devout desire to know the secrets of the universe, is ignored in favor of a blind regard to material prosperity.

We are not surprised, then, that a language, destitute both of the traditional and of the practical claim, unknown to the founders of the schools, nowhere a medium of communication, having only an antiquarian and scientific interest, should meet with little favor. Unfortunately, the trade in East India cotton can be carried on, and the government of the Province tolerably administered, without Sanskrit. One class of men may regard this extinct tongue as having a secondary practical value,— missionaries to India. But they find their every day evangelical work in the modern dialects, and have little more inducement to learn the sacred language, than a Buddhist missionary to England would have to study Anglo-Saxon. It must be confessed that the study of Sanskrit does not seem to offer any immediate advantage, (that it will be ultimately beneficial might easily be proved), to the commercial and manufacturing world, or to the professions of law, medicine, and theology. Therefore, and because it has no support from tradition, the greater obligation rests on the centres of learning to sustain it, especially now that a university of this country has avowed its preference for the bread-and-butter sciences. It is to the universities that we must look to introduce studies that do not commend themselves to the public apprehension, and we believe that there are solid reasons for now calling on the prominent institutions of the South to make provision for the teaching of Sanskrit.

It is proper to state another fact which is not without influence on this study in scientific circles we mean the misunderstanding and rivalry which has sprung up between Sanskritists and Classicists, or, as it is perhaps more correct to say, the jealousy felt by the latter toward the former. It seems to a devoted student of the Greek, of the old school, intolerable that that ancient and polished tongue should be explained by means of a newly discovered barbarous dialect. It may be that the Sanskritists have sometimes ungracefully advanced the real claims of their language, as well as made pretensions to what it did not possess. But this is only the exaggeration of a new impulse, and they have usually conceded to the classic languages their excellencies and advantages. Professor Curtius, in a tract of commendable fairness, has endeavored to mediate between the two parties, to show that, though the Sanskrit must be regarded as the foundation of etymology, the Greek must be held to be superior not only in its literary monuments and its syntactical construction, especially its connectives, but even in some cases in distinctness of form, and in the vowel-declensions, where it carefully distinguishes the feminine (a) forms from the masculine (o), while the Sanskrit has only one vowel (a) for both. There is in truth no ground for rivalry, and we may hope speedily to see perfect harmony reigning in the scientific world on this point. It is not pleasant to see so eminent a critic as Haupt, of Berlin, heaping indiscriminate, (and we must be pardoned for adding, ignorant,) ridicule on the attempts to throw light on the Homeric forms and mythology from the language of the Vedas, as if it were derogatory to the poet to assert that the forms of his mythological names are secondary, and to attempt to trace the splendors of his representations to the simple nature-worship of the primitive race. A similar spirit of opposition repels the claims to superior antiquity set forth by scholars in favor of Latin over Greek. It is all unscientific, unphilosophical, prejudicial to truth, and, we may be sure, cannot stand before the progress of inquiry.

In the Southern States, then, no effort has as yet been made to recognize and further Sanskrit studies. At the University of Virginia, connected with the School of Modern Languages, there

is a Department of Comparative Philology, (and a work designed to give an outline of the science has been published by the present incumbent of the chair), but Sanskrit has not entered into the course, as indeed it would be impossible to find time for it. In endeavoring to present its claims here, we call on those who have pursued it to aid us in bringing it before our universities and colleges, and especially, while striving to form a public opinion which shall demand its introduction, to induce governing bodies, faculties, and boards, to give it due consider

ation.

We do not propose here to give a description of Sanskrit literature, though the subject is an inviting one. Each of the three divisions, (the Vedic, the Epic, and the Classic), has its peculiar charms. The Vedas spread over a large space of time, and exhibit in their different parts different characters, showing the progress of the religious or mythological spirit, and the growth of the national consciousness. But it is impossible not to observe with pleasure the freshness and simplicity of the earliest hymns, (in the Rig-Veda chiefly), which are redolent of the influences of the sunshine and the breeze, and the starry heavens. In the later Vedas we have a cooler spirit of philosophical inquiry, and in the great epics grand heroic narratives with numerous episodes, some of which, (as the romantic story of Nala and Damayanti, the theological poem called BhagavadGita, and Arjuna's Journey to Indra's Heaven), have been translated into the western languages. In the classic period are found descriptive poems and dramas, and these, as well as the epics, have all the qualities necessary to excite interest-involved plots, difficult situations, deep and tender feeling, cunning and magnanimity, reverses of fortune, wickedness in its temporary triumphs, and goodness in its final reward. The immense field of literature is by no means yet explored. In the explication of the Vedas, more remains to be done than has yet been accomplished; in all departments, hitherto unknown regions are showing themselves; and lately the investigation of the Buddhist literature has been entered on. There is great need of laborers, and abundant opportunity to earn honorable distinction. We desire, however, rather to call attention to the necessity for a

chair of Sanskrit in every university, from the connection between this language and the science of comparative grammar, or, more exactly, comparative etymology, in the Indo-European family. This family, extending from India westward, and including almost the whole of Europe, contains all the languages, with the exception of the Semitic, which have played an important part in the civilization of the world. But the close connection between its different members was not suspected till the beginning of this century, when the result of the English study of Sanskrit was appropriated and carried on by Germans. Some general resemblances had been perceived, and it was the opinion of many that Latin was a daughter of one of the Greek dialects. But it amounted to a revelation when it was shown that not only Latin and Greek, and German and English, but also Danish and Icelandic, Russian and Polish, Irish, Scotch, and Welsh, stood in such relation to one another as made it impossible to consider them otherwise than as sisters, daughters of a common mother. This is proved by a large induction of facts, comparisons of declensions, conjugations, pronouns, prepositions, and verbal roots. It is accordingly supposed that at a remote period the primitive race dwelt in Asia, probably on the tablelands, near the northwest corner of India, and spoke the motherlanguage, the grammar of which a German scholar, Schleicher, has attempted to give. From this point colonies went forth, some into India and Persia, some westward to Europe, and different dates have been fixed for these migrations, and therefore different degrees of antiquity for the various languages. The relative ages must be determined from the greater or less fulness and the more or less distinct significance of the roots.and inflectional endings; and on such grounds the highest antiquity must be assigned to the Sanskrit, the language originally spoken by the Indo-European colony that went into India. When this migration occurred, we do not know; but we may affirm that the immigrants found a people already inhabiting the country, and speaking a rude uninflected language, and that they conquered them only after years of sharp conflict. The new race brought with them an inflected language, and a civilization which, identical with their religion, first expressed itself in the Veda, (which was originally