from a southern; as the learned and nice Montanus could discern whether an oyster had grown near Circeii or in the Lucrine lake. The grape smacks of the soil in which it grew. So men buy a horse, not for his points only, but for his pedigree. The winner of the palm at Elis, comes not of the same stock with the Satureian nag. As a man may well take shame to himself for the foul deed of his ancestor, so is he entitled to some share of his renown, and this too, without reckoning the merit of the blood. Thus it is that men live before they are born, and have a patrimony in the past, as well as after they are dead, entailing a sad or a glorious inheritance on those who spring from them. And so in all time has it been declared, that noble birth is sponsor to noble doing. Antiquity everywhere affirms that heroes and poets and the founders of commonwealths are offspring of the gods. Orpheus sprung from the loins of Apollo. Was not the silver footed daughter of the sea proud of her boy, Achilles? What but the maternal love of Venus guarded Æneus through his years of wandering and perilous wars? Even the little great have rendered homage to this doctrine of heavenly birth, and the son of Olympias dared to claim descent from Ammonian Jove. Kindred to this relation of a parent to his children is that of the founder of an art or a fraternity to all the craft and brotherhood. The free mason allows no one less than Solomon to be his master. The snipe shooter claims to be of the family of the mighty Nimrod, and a merry company of thieves will do business under the patronage of thrice great Hermes.' Why may not we too search out our genealogy and boast ourselves in the merits of our great progenitor? Or hath the schoolmaster alone no saint in the calendar, when St. Crispin even hath those who reverence him? We are not so fallen. The cobler shall not have his laugh of us. We make our bow to Tubal Cain; though a teacher, we are not of him. We lift our hat to the Centaur, Chiron. He is our father. We admire his skill, we are lost in wonder at the amplitude of his knowledges. We revere him as the great seeker and finder. Far away on the hills of Thessaly dwelt this wondrous being. Tempe refreshed him in her grassy meadows, the Peneus slaked his thirst, aud Ossa and Olympus echoed to his cheerful horn in the chace, and his merry laugh over his wine cups with Pholus. Foremost in feats of strength and peerless in grace and beauty (out on thee! who couldst find it in thy heart to say, si modo naturæ formam concedimus illi) and sought after by many a fair haired Hylonome, his rocky cave was ever his unshared home, and wild wood sports his occupation and delight. Nor might the youths, more than the maidens of Thessaly win him to their companionship. The assemblies of mortals were not honored with his presence, save only when he might find just fellowship, with demigods and heroes of celestial birth. Nursed in wild and rocky solitudes, and trained by want and danger, he grew into nobleness and strength. Gladly would we tell all the story of this our great ancestor and pattern, but scanty and imperfect are the records of that solitary life. In this, was he a type of his most excellent followers, whose lives are past in the quiet obscurity of doing good, and good deeds love the shade. Rarely did he leave his favorite pursuits, and his calm retreat. Yet once and again we find him on gala days and feasts of solemn fitness, sharing the festivities of mingled gods and men. Once, when were wedded the heroic Peleus and the gen tle and fair haired Thetis, who scorned not human nuptials. The chivalry of Thessaly were there, from Phthiotic Tempe and the walls of Larissa and far Scyros, and the rude peasantry forsook the plough and the hook, to gaze on the splendor which that day came up to Pharsalia. There in the mingled throng of gods and demigods, came Chiron,* as to no too lofty fellowship. Peneus the river god, and fair and forest girdled Tempe brought each an offering of trees and woven flowers, and wise Prometheus, whose limbs yet bore the traces of his vast agony, and the dread Parca with their prophetic song. The ox-eyed mother of the gods was there; and all of the immortals, save only Phoebus and the chaste huntress of the Carian mount. Yet in this august presence was our great master as an equal, and father Jove Princeps e vortice Peli Advenit Chiron portans silvestria dona Nam quodcunque ferunt campi, quos Thessala magnis Quis permulsa domus jocundo risit odore Catull. Epithal. Pel. et Thetis. disdained not to drink with him health and fair issue to the blushing bride.* Still was his mountain cave his home, chosen for meditation and quiet thought. The proud unwise would disdainfully scoff at the cloud-begotten, the nubigena. Yet was he a true "son of the mist," who loved nature as a mother, and was stedfast in his love, were she gentle or in storm. And from this filial devotion grew his wisdom. The 'unwedgeable' oak and the everlasting hill were at his side, ever mute monitors of constancy and endurance; the moon on whose broad disk he gazed in the midnight chase or from his solitary couch on the side of Othrys, taught him her lesson of perpetual growth and decay; and the obscure and neglected wild flower revealed to him its cunning; the music of the stars inspired an inward harmony, and the fierce mountain winds trained him to perfect manhood. In this communion with nature he grew wise, and the beasts of the field learned to reverence and obey him, which the artists of after ages have not inaptly symbolized by a two fold nature. Wisdom hath no limit, and knowledge cannot be confined. The fame of it comes forth from the desert where it would hide, and draws the young, the generous, and the pureminded to itself. So to this far off school came the sons of gods and heroes to gain strange lore, and the perfectest mastery of art. Came the famed son of Alcmena. Vain were lessons of strong Castor, of skilful Eurytus, of Autolycus, of the noble bard Eumolpus. Each had taught his separate art, but the completing accomplishment and grace could be given only by the hoary experience of Chiron. Well doth the glory of the pupil attest the skill of his master, and long as the twelve labors,' twelve constellations, shall endure, shall abide that master's fame. Came the renowned son of Thetis, wrathful and fierce, whom the marrow of lions and fat of bears strengthened for the sad conflicts of Troas. No homely exercise taught his fingers to fight.' Testis erit magnis virtutibus unda Scamandri. Came Esculapius, the gentle, the beneficent, the mild radiance of whose virtues attracts like the evening star. From the hand of the teacher he received a talisman which unlocked the secret *Praeberetque Jovi communia pocula Chiron, Claudian, In Nupt. Honor. et Mariæ, Praef. powers of herbs, and the hidden agencies of minerals, and the healing virtue of flowing waters, and gave an antidote to the miseries of mortal life in the heart-easing nepenthe and to its temptations in the deep-rooted moly. Could he not wrestle with death stronger than Hercules? Alas! that Jove should fear a divided empire, and a thunderbolt be the reward of so glorious benefits! Yet hath the bag of simples its efficacy, and we laugh at the impotent rage of the thunderer which gave an immortality to its victim. Time would fail us to report the worth of Jason, of Peleus, and of the many worthies who became illustrious under the instructions of the first teacher. Yet we must drop a tear over the fate of the gentle Acteon. Brave was he in his life, mournful and untimely his death. No unhallowed passion, no vain curiosity led him to the fatal fountain, but the nimble deer, and a hunter's weariness, and a cool shade; and an erring glance, and the wrath of the maiden Dian, made the solace of his life, the bitterness of his death. But the attendant Nymphs hung many a chaplet in memory of the beautiful stranger, and his faithful hounds howled a sad eulogy. None of the many who have strove to follow the example of our wise progenitor, can boast of such a school. In these poor days might Busby look somewhat proudly on his bench of bishops; but how faint that praise ! But we must close our eulogium. Once again at the marriage feast of Pirithous and the fair Laodamia, we find the presence and venerated gravity of Chiron awing to peace and calming the rude passions of riotous wassailers. Alas! that the wise should die! That the good we do, oft stings us like a serpent! That the hand which had learned its inevitable aim from the great son of Ixion, should loose the arrow of his death! Yet weep not ye who have admired, and imitated, and inourned. Yonder, high in the heavens, the Archer, that bright constellation, that is our Master. 169 ART. III. PROFESSOR OLMSTED S LECTURE. THE SCHOOL SYSTEM OF CONNECTICUT. We have made the extracts which follow, from a Lecture delivered by Professor Olmsted, before the American Institute of Instruction. We should be glad to notice more fully the other valuable Lectures in the last volume published by the Institute, but must content ourselves for the present, at least, with this. The experience of Connecticut as to the true means of making a vast school fund available, is of great importance now, when nearly all the new States are making munificent pecuniary provisions for the support of common schools. We trust they will not fall into her errors. "For a few years after the first settlement of Connecticut, the subject of school education was left to the care of the parent, urged as he was to the faithful discharge of his duty by the powerful influence of an enlightened and learned clergy. It was not deemed safe, however, to confide a subject in which the State had so much at stake, wholly and forever to the zeal of parents, and especially of masters and guardians; but within fifteen years from the first organization of the government, laws began to be enacted to secure the faithful instruction of every child in the commonwealth. By a law passed in 1650, it was decreed as follows: For as much as the good education of children is of singular behoof and benefit to any commonwealth; and whereas many parents and masters, are too indulgent and negligent of their duty in that kind; it is therefore ordered, that the selectmen in the several precincts and quarters where they dwell, shall have a vigilant eye over their brethren and neighbors, to see that none of them suffer so much barbarism in any of their families, as not to endeavor to teach by themselves or others, their children and apprentices so much learning as may enable them perfectly to read the English tongue, and obtain a knowledge of its laws,-upon penalty of twenty shillings.' Moreover, every township of one hundred families, was required to maintain a grammar school; the masters of which were to be competent to prepare students for the University." "So earnest were our fathers to have every child in the State taught, at least, the rudiments of knowledge, that, by farther provisions, they made it the duty of the grand-jury |