in the same county, but because he was the first did teach worthy Doctor Whitaker? nor do I honor the memory of Mulcaster* for anything so much, as for his scholar, that gulf of learning, Bishop Andrews. This made the Athenians, the day before the great feast of Theseus, their founder, to sacrifice a ram to the memory of Conidas, his schoolmaster that first instructed him.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 1728-1774.

We shall have occasion to notice some of the peculiarities in Goldsmith's own education, and of his experience as a teacher in the republication in a future number of his admirable Essay on Education, in which he claims to have anticipated some of the suggestions of Rousseau in his Emilius. The portraitures in the Deserted Village, whether drawn from Irish or English life, are among the classic characters of our language.

THE VILLAGE SCHOOLMASTER.

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way
With blossom furze unprofitably gay,

There, in his noisy mansion skill'd to rule,
The village master taught his little school
A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant knew.
Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face;
Full well they laugh'd, with counterfeited glee,
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he;
Full well the busy whisper circling round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd.
Yet he was kind; or, if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault.
The village all declared how much he knew:
"Twas certain he could write and cipher too;
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage;
And e'en the story ran that he could guage.

In arguing too the parson own'd his skill,

For e'en tho' vanquished, he could argue still;

While words of learned length, and thund'ring sound

Amaz'd the gazing rustics rang'd around;

And still they gaz'd; and still the wonder grew,

That one small head could carry all he knew

But past is all his fame; the very spot

Where many a time he triumph'd, is forgot.

JAMES DELILLE, 1738-1813.

JAMES DELILLE, was born in Auvignon, in 1733, educated in Paris, and made Professor at Amiens, in 1760, and afterward in Paris,-

RICHARD MULCASTER was born at Carlisle, educated at Eton under Udal, and at Kings' College, Cambridge, and Christ Church. Oxford.-commenced teaching in 1559, and appoint ed first master of Merchant Tailors' School in 1561, where he served till 1596, when he was made upper master of St. Paul's school,-died in 1611. He was a severe disciplinarian, but received many marks of grateful respect from his pupils, when they came of age and reflected on his fidelity and care. He was a good Latin, Greek, and Oriental scholar. His Latin verses spoken on the occasion of one of Queen Elizabeth's visits to Kenilworth Castle, are considered favorable specimens of his Latinity. He made a contribution to the literature of his profession, under the title of "Positions, wherein those primitive Circumstances be considered which are necessary for the training up of children, either for Skill in their books, or Health in their Bodies. London, 1581."

translated Virgil's Georgics into French verse, and afterward composed an original work of the same character, entitled Jardins. Driven from France by the revolutionary outbreak, he afterward resided in Switzerland and Germany. In 1792, he published the Country Gentlemen, (Homme des Champs,) a poem in five cantos, in which he depicts country life in various characters and aspects--and among others, that of the school and the schoolmaster. We copy the last in an English translation by John Maunde. Some of the finest strokes are borrowed from Goldsmith's picture-unless both are copied from the same original. He died in 1813.

THE VILLAGE SCHOOLMASTER.

Descend, my muse, nor yet debate thy strain,

And paint the pedant of the village train.
Nor that suffice, but let thy prudent lay
Attach due honor to his useful sway.
He comes at length in consequential state,
And self-importance marks his solemn gait.
Read, write, and count, 'tis certain he can do;
Instruct at school, and sing at chapel too;
Foresee the changing moon and tempest dread,
And e'en in Latin once some progress made:
In learned disputes still firm and valiant found,
Though vanquished, still he scorns to quit the ground;
Whilst, wisely used to gather time and strength,
His crabbed words prolong their laggard length.
The rustic gaze around, and scarce suppose
That one poor brain could carry all he knows.
But in his school, to each neglect severe,
So much to him is learning's progress dear,
Comes he? Upon his smooth, or ruffled brow,
His infant tribe their destiny may know.

He nods, they part; again, and they assemble:

Smiles, if he laughs; and if he frowns, they tremble.

He soothes, or menaces, as best befits,

And now chastises, or he now acquits.

E'en when away, his wary subjects fear,

Lest the unseen bird should whisper in his ear

Who laughs, or talks, or slumbers o'er his book,
Or from what hand the ball his visage struck.

Nor distant far the birch is seen to rise

The birch, that heeds not their imploring cries.

If chance the breeze its boughs should lightly shake

With pale affright the puny urchins quake.

Thus, gentle Chanonat, beside thy bed,

I've touched that tree, my childhood's friend and dread ;

That willow-tree, whose tributary spray

Amid my stern pedant with his sceptered sway.

Such is the master of the village-school:

Be it thy care to dignify his rule.

The wise man learns each rank to appreciate;

But fools alone despise the humbler state.

In spite of pride, in office, great or low,
Be modest one, and one importance know,
Be by himself his post an honor deemed;
He must esteem himself to be esteemed.

ROBERT LLOYD, 1733-1764.

ROBERT LLOYD was born in London in 1733. His father was under-master at Westminster School, and after completing his education at Cambridge, became usher under his father, without bringing to the work that moral fitness and love for teaching, without which it becomes intolerable drudgery. He soon left the occupation in disgust, and tried to earn a subsistence by his pen. He died poor in 1764.

A SCHOOL USHER.

Were I at once empowered to show
My utmost vengeance on my foe,
To punish with extremest vigor,
I should inflict no penance bigger,
Than, using him as learnings' tool,
To make him usher in a school.
For, not to dwell upon the toil
Of working on a barren soil,
And laboring with incessant pains
To cultivate a blockhead's brains,
The duties there but ill-befit,
The love of letters arts or wit.

For one, it hurts me to the soul,
To brook confinement or control;
Still to be pinioned down to teach
The syntax and the parts of speech;
Or perhaps what is drudgery worse,

The links and points, and rules of verse:

To deal out authors by retail,

Like penny pots of Oxford ale;

Oh'tis a service irksome more,

Then tugging at a slavish oar!
Yet such his task a dismal truth,
Who watches o'er the bent of youth,
And while a paltry stipend earning,
He sows the richest seeds of learning,
And tills their minds with proper care,
And sees them then due produce bear;
No joys, alas! his toil beguiles,

His own is fallow all the while.

"Yet still he's on the road, you say,

Of learning." Why, perhaps he may;
But turns like horses in a mill,

Nor getting on nor standing still;

For little way his learning reaches,

Who reads no more than what he teaches.

XIV. REQUIREMENTS IN A LEXICOGRAPHER OF THE ENGLISH

LANGUAGE.*

BY ISAIAH DOLE, M. A.,

Instructor in Languages in the Maine Female Seminary.

To examine a quarto dictionary with thoroughness sufficient to gauge its merits is an undertaking of no inconsiderable magnitude and daring. It involves far more than that knowledge of excellence and defects, which is gained by a cursory turning of leaves, or by casual reference. It is achieved in no such excitement of mind as that which sets periods ablaze, and electrifies audiences. Rather, all such frenzy precludes any just judgment; is utterly inconsistent with that careful comparison and close discrimination which only can avail here. Neither does eminence in any single department, or even in several distinct fields of knowledge, entitle a man to stand as a judge in lexicography without question of his claims. Has one man in a hundred thousand compared the definitions of twenty important words with the usage of standard authors in the successive periods of our literature? Does one man in a hundred thousand seek to gain an orderly knowledge of the entire usage of words that have been variously applied? How many ever think of the relations of different significations? How many have any distinct notion of the principles that are to determine the reception or the rejection of words? Certainly not all of the dictionary-makers themselves. How can men judge of a dictionary when they have no conception of its true domain? As is a barbarian's estimate of the comforts of life, so is most men's conception of what a dictionary should be. As you civilize the barbarian, what he knew not of yesterday he finds indispensable to-day; as the reader and the student attain more discrimination, the helps that resolve their doubts to-day will fail them to-morrow, when they shall have nicer points to settle, and their interest shall be aroused to attain to fuller and more perfect knowledge.

The absolute value of a dictionary is in proportion to the accuracy and fulness with which it exhibits the forms and uses of words for the entire period of their constituting an integral part of the language.

* An American Dictionary of the English Language. By Noah Webster, LL.D. Revised and Enlarged by Chauncey A. Goodrich, Professor in Yale College.

No. 8. [VOL. III.]

11

But, for ordinary purposes, the value of a dictionary of a living tongue is measured by the truthfulness with which it represents, in the garb that usage approves, all that is now vital, together with such dead · words and cast-off forms as are embalmed in what the present generation agree to call Standard Literature. In regard to the forms of words or orthography, our dictionaries have already approximated very nearly to perfection. Many innovations have found almost universal favor; and recent editions of those very books in which others were proposed, have receded in great part; so that the remaining difference is comparatively insignificant; each, with few exceptions, accurately representing present usage, as well in cases of diversity as of uniformity. This matter has been agitated so long, and sifted so thoroughly, that it is not worth while now to state more than the result. And there will be little cause for change hereafter. The orthography of the language is, in the main, established for all coming time. In regard to the origin, and, more especially, the use of words, much has been done; but how much remains to be done! The most efficient laborer in the sphere of definition has been Johnson; and, since him, Webster has added the most abundant contributions; and Richardson has gathered a mass of citations of inestimable value to the lexicographer who shall know how to use them.

The qualifications which he must possess who shall prepare a dictionary to satisfy the coming age, such a work as even now would be appreciated to a considerable extent, and cause existing dictionaries to be stowed away as worthless rubbish, can be expressed in a single sentence. THE English Lexicographer must have grown up into the language, have become identified with it, must be discriminatingly cognizant of his intellections, and able to present them accurately and fully in their natural order. His heart must beat sympathetically, whenever he meets idiomatic ease and simple grace, and modest adornment, and purity of diction. He must sensitively recoil, as if violence were done to himself, when he meets uncouth and barbarous terms, or words misapplied, or false rhetoric, or perverse logic. His instant' feeling must recognize what belongs to the vital organization of the language, and what it regards as incapable of assimilation, and what in its growth it has cast off, henceforth inert and dead. He must be acquainted with the origin and history of words so far as to be able to trace ordinarily the usages of each to their common base. This implies the knowledge of the etymon, which must be analyzed and traced as far back as more radical significations will shed light even darkly upon it. The usages of words must be arranged orderly, defined distinctly, and illustrated appropriately. Orderly arrangement