A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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A PARAPHRASE ON THE REV. DR. WATTS'S CELEBRATED DISTICH, ON THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES. |
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
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A PARAPHRASE ON THE REV. DR. WATTS'S CELEBRATED DISTICH, ON THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES.
ADDRESSED TO THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN OF THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR SCHOOL,
BY ONE OF THEIR SCHOOL-FELLOWS.
“Let every foreign tongue alone
“Till you can spell and read your own.”
“Till you can spell and read your own.”
With equal justice, sense and truth,
So says the guide and friend of youth:
For ignorant in that, 'tis plain,
Your boast of literature is vain;
But make your own your first concern,
All others you may quickly learn;
And thus with minds prepar'd and free,
Their beauties taste, their idioms see.
So says the guide and friend of youth:
For ignorant in that, 'tis plain,
Your boast of literature is vain;
But make your own your first concern,
All others you may quickly learn;
And thus with minds prepar'd and free,
Their beauties taste, their idioms see.
Pedants may flout and keep a pother
About this language, and the other,
And swear that none can write or speak,
Who have not Latin learn'd and Greek:
‘He of all judgment is depriv'd,
‘Who knows not whence a word's deriv'd,
‘And every Briton willy nilly,
‘Must dig good English out of Lily.’
These are vague notions foster'd long,
Crude in their birth, in practice wrong;
Like many more of ancient date,
Wisely reformed or obsolete.
About this language, and the other,
And swear that none can write or speak,
Who have not Latin learn'd and Greek:
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‘Who knows not whence a word's deriv'd,
‘And every Briton willy nilly,
‘Must dig good English out of Lily.’
These are vague notions foster'd long,
Crude in their birth, in practice wrong;
Like many more of ancient date,
Wisely reformed or obsolete.
Thousands, 'tis true, the course have run,
Which reason would have bid them shun:
'Tis common sense and good in law,
To furnish brick we should have straw;
But by the mystic code of schools
There's neither straw allow'd nor tools;
And years of pain, and learning's stock,
Begin and end in—Hic, hæc, hoc!!!
What charms are there, in sense or sound,
Of such intrinsic merit found,
That, not thro' prejudice to err,
Terms of our own we mayn't prefer?
And just as well the purport fit,
With Oxford writing,—He, she, it?
Or do they more in church or state
Improve discourse, or point debate?
Which reason would have bid them shun:
'Tis common sense and good in law,
To furnish brick we should have straw;
But by the mystic code of schools
There's neither straw allow'd nor tools;
And years of pain, and learning's stock,
Begin and end in—Hic, hæc, hoc!!!
What charms are there, in sense or sound,
Of such intrinsic merit found,
That, not thro' prejudice to err,
Terms of our own we mayn't prefer?
And just as well the purport fit,
With Oxford writing,—He, she, it?
Or do they more in church or state
Improve discourse, or point debate?
Poor boys in training, it appears,
Condemn'd to waste their tender years
On exercises, which conduce
To little or no real use,
Seem to perpetuate Britain's doom,
To groan beneath the yoke of Rome.
Rome that abandon'd us in need,
Still o'er our judgment takes the lead;
We scout her eagles with disdain;
The fasces still usurp domain;
Still, of court influence tho' bereft,
In schools the badge of slavery's left,
And interest still, or affectation,
Warps the free spirit of the nation;
Tho' richer prospects grace our view,
Than ever Greek or Roman knew.—
All must be through the classics led,
Before the horn-book well they've read;
A more oppressive task in fact
Than Ægypt's tyrant could exact,
Which genius in the cradle cramps,
And all her generous efforts damps;
But in your native language skill'd,
You on a sure foundation build;
The edifice will rise sublime,
In perfect order, place and time.
Condemn'd to waste their tender years
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To little or no real use,
Seem to perpetuate Britain's doom,
To groan beneath the yoke of Rome.
Rome that abandon'd us in need,
Still o'er our judgment takes the lead;
We scout her eagles with disdain;
The fasces still usurp domain;
Still, of court influence tho' bereft,
In schools the badge of slavery's left,
And interest still, or affectation,
Warps the free spirit of the nation;
Tho' richer prospects grace our view,
Than ever Greek or Roman knew.—
All must be through the classics led,
Before the horn-book well they've read;
A more oppressive task in fact
Than Ægypt's tyrant could exact,
Which genius in the cradle cramps,
And all her generous efforts damps;
But in your native language skill'd,
You on a sure foundation build;
The edifice will rise sublime,
In perfect order, place and time.
There, and there only should commence
The path to knowlege, wit and sense;
For there the young ingenious mind,
The road to excellence will find,
And in the flowery walks of science,
May bid disgraceful birch defiance;
But who, a novice there, aspires,
Must work his way through thorns and briars,
And when the craggy steeps are past,
May skulk a useless drone at last;
Nay, tho' he get A. B. at College,
Be stopt of his degree in knowlege.
The path to knowlege, wit and sense;
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The road to excellence will find,
And in the flowery walks of science,
May bid disgraceful birch defiance;
But who, a novice there, aspires,
Must work his way through thorns and briars,
And when the craggy steeps are past,
May skulk a useless drone at last;
Nay, tho' he get A. B. at College,
Be stopt of his degree in knowlege.
Then cultivate your native soil,
The harvest will repay your toil;
And be it every Parent's care,
To plant the seeds of goodness there.
The harvest will repay your toil;
And be it every Parent's care,
To plant the seeds of goodness there.
The petty ambition of pretending to superior skill, in other languages, seems pleasantly and aptly ridiculed in the following anecdote.
One of our modern modishly-bred ladies, boasting of her proficiency in the French tongue, asserted she understood and spoke it better than she did English; and, for the truth, appealed to a French lady in company. The adroit Parisian very candidly and sensibly replied, ‘I am not, my dear madam! sufficiently acquainted with the English to determine; but I should be ashamed and sorry to say, I spoke any language half so well as my own.’
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |