stroyed the great and powerful Roman Empire. Then fell upon Europe the shadow of the Dark Ages. How was learning kept alive in those times of gloom and eclipse? The Moors of Spain kept alive the knowledge of mathematics, and in monastic cells there might have been seen studious and pious scholars copying with infinite patience and illustrating with exquisite art the few manuscripts of the ancient learning that had been spared from the general ruin. And then dawned the new era that has been called the era of the revival of learning. Then arose the universities of Germany and Italy and the great schools of learning that have flourished ever since at Oxford and Cambridge. But these universities were generally founded by monarchs or powerful nobles whose aim was often the perpetuation of their own fame or the salvation of their own souls rather than the free dissemination of knowledge. Then, too, might be found here and there a solitary scholar intent on widening the field of human knowledge, a man like Galileo gazing into the midnight heavens from the heights of Bellosguardo, or pondering the slow swaying of the great lamp that still hangs beneath the lofty dome of the Cathedral at Pisa.

Finally we come to that beautiful incident which all through the world is recognized as one of the most significant and dramatic incidents of history-that little body of men and women leaving the shores of their own land and coming to this country to found here, as they hoped, a commonwealth upon lines and upon foundation stones that had never been tried elsewhere in the history of the world. I think there is nothing more beautiful in itself, or more pathetic than the story of those men, few in number, scattered, and struggling hard against cruel climate and savage foe, in toil, penury and hardship, resolving that the commonwealth they were to found should be a commonwealth of education, and thus inaugurating the public school system, the establishment of which in this town two hundred and fifty years ago you are celebrating to-night. That little log-cabin which served as a school-house, small, rude and uncomfortable, was really a more majestic temple than architect or mason can build.

to-day. I trust we are in no danger of confusing the idea of greatness with that of size or splendor. You will remember it is narrated that Daniel Webster, in closing the Dartmouth College case, brought tears to the eyes of Judge Marshall and his associates upon the bench, and of the entire audience of that court room by speaking, with the tenderness of a son, of that little college in the country town. In that magnificent voice of his, and with that pathos which he knew so well how to use, he said: "It is a small college, sir, but there are those who love it." And so there are those of us,-school boys, school girls, men and women,-who can say of that little school-house we remember; poor perhaps, small it may be and plain, and yet we treasure in our hearts a love for that school where we first learned the elements of our education.

There is one phrase I should like to have forever banished from our language, and I think perhaps Mr. Hill will agree with me, and that is the question we so often hear asked, "When does that boy finish his education?" "When does that girl finish her education?" Why, my friends, in this world, until we are laid beneath the sod, and I know not that our course of education ends even then, there is no finish to the education of man or woman in this modern, active, busy life of ours. You remember what Sir Isaac Newton, the great philosopher and scientist of his time, said of himself: "I know not how I may appear to others, but to myself I seem like a little boy playing by the seashore, diverting himself now and then by picking up a smoother pebble or prettier shell than ordinary while the great ocean of undiscovered truth lies beyond." When in Cambridge I attended a voluntary course of lectures given by James Russell Lowell, a profound scholar and courteous gentleman. I remember when he rose to address his class, how it thrilled us all to hear him say "Gentlemen and Fellow Students." He perhaps noticed that a certain movement went through the room, and he paused for a moment to add, "I meant, my young friends, what I said; so far as any of us are students we are fellow-students. One may have travelled the path of learning a very little beyond

the other, but with the tremendous vista reaching to the ends of the world and to all eternity, that little distance is well-nigh of no importance." And so I say to you to-night,-there are some among us perhaps to whom this warning is a little tardy, but to the school-children I would especially say, give up the idea that your education is finished when you leave the school; it is only then beginning in its truest sense.

Schools have been in existence in this town of Dedham for two hundred and fifty years. That long period has seen vast changes in their methods and in their studies. The old curriculum has been greatly enriched. Other languages beside English, music, drawing, modelling in clay, and science have been introduced, and I venture nothing in saying that sooner or later every school in this commonwealth will have its course in manual training which will be considered as an important part of the education of the young. And so the idea of the public school, as it has existed here for two hundred and fifty years, is destined to extend into the unknown time beyond. What shall it be made? The science of education must keep step in progress with the advance in other sciences. I look to see the Commonwealth of Massachusetts maintain the supremacy it has to-day in giving to all the youth within its borders the wisest and most liberal instruction in method, aim and result.

I noticed this evening upon the programme at the bottom part of the seal of the Town of Dedham, the word "Contentment." I think I have read somewhere that the earliest settlers when they first established themselves here petitioned the Great and General Court that they might be permitted to call their plantation Contentment. That petition was not granted, and they gave their infant town the name Dedham, which it has held for over two hundred and fifty years. No wonder the thought of contentment was very close and warm in their hearts in this fair valley by the shores of the Charles River, looking eastward to the beautiful Blue Hills of Milton, with the broad meadows of the Neponset abounding in game stretching toward the South. I think it was a beautiful and gracious prayer that they pre

sented to the Great and General Court, that that word might be perpetuated in the name of their town. But, my friends, contentment alone is not quite enough; it is too apt to degenerate into listlessness, apathy, or sluggishness of mind or temper. There must go with it the determination always to press forward each year further on in the march of enlightenment.

That spirit of unrest which incessantly demands such change as shall constitute real progress is of equal importance with that spirit of content which, pillowed on the past, rests satisfied with the present. May these twin spirits of contentment and enlightened progress continue to brood over your beautiful town, and so may the Dedham of the centuries that are to come be worthy of its honorable and historic past.

IX.

HAIL COLUMBIA.

BY CHORUS AND ORCHESTRA.

THE CHAIRMAN, --The State Board of Education was established by an Act of the General Court on April 20, 1837. This Board has a general oversight of all the common schools in our Commonwealth. The executive officer of the Board is its Secretary, and upon his wisdom, learning and experience the success and efficiency of their schools in no small degree depend. This office has been filled from the beginning by men of unusual ability and character. The first Secretary of this Board was Horace Mann, a native of Norfolk County, for some years a citizen of Dedham, and unquestionably a man in the foremost rank of the educators of his day. Immediately after him was Barnas Sears, who resigned

the office to become President of Brown University. Following him came Hon. George S. Boutwell, then an ex-Governor of the Commonwealth. Then came Hon. Joseph White and John W. Dickinson. To-day the Secretary is Hon. Frank A. Hill, whose recent appointment gave great satisfaction to all who take an active interest in the welfare of our public schools. We wish him abundant success in this highly responsible position. He honors this occasion by his presence. It affords me great pleasure to introduce to you the Hon. FRANK A. HILL, Secretary of the State Board of Edu

cation.

X.

ADDRESS.

HON. FRANK A. HILL,

SECRETARY OF THE STATE BOARD OF EDUCATION.

Do you realize, Mr. President, the trying ordeal to which you are subjecting me at the end of your long and brilliant programme? We have been surfeited, almost, with history, eloquence and song. Here, too, are three hundred boys and girls, the hardest audience in the world to hold and to please, -and it is past their bedtime. Moreover, I am anxious to catch the last train for Boston; else I must throw myself on the mercy of the good people of Dedham until morning. On the other hand, this is the first, the last, and the only two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of her first public school that Dedham will ever celebrate, and we can afford to make a night of it. If you have good staying qualities, I will proceed.

Sir William Berkeley, the courtly Governor of Virginia, in a letter to the King more than two hundred years ago, thanked God there were no printing presses and free schools within his