Poems on Various Subjects with some Essays in Prose, Letters to Correspondents, &c. and A Treatise on Health. By Samuel Bowden |
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ON EDUCATION. |
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
123
ON EDUCATION.
Inscrib'd to the Rev. Peter Mayson, M. A. On his Opening A New GRAMMAR-SCHOOL at Frome.
------ Sed vos sævas imponite leges,
Ut præceptori verborum regula constet.
Juven.
Ut præceptori verborum regula constet.
Juven.
To form rude minds, and make the savage wise,
Science of old descended from the skys:
The eastern climes first felt the friendly ray,
And dawn'd alike with learning, and with day.
There clad in wisdom's robes the Magi shone,
And China glitter'd in a heaven its own.
The sacred flame, the Grecian sages fir'd;
Warm'd every breast, and every grove inspir'd.
But when mad mortals wealth and discord knew,
Back to the skys the exil'd goddess flew:
Smote in eclipse, the sickening olives fade,
Some splendid stars shot only thro' the shade:
While Goths and Scythians, and the monkish sway,
Of pious vandals intercept the day:
Yet from those northern clouds she broke and blest,
In her last flight, the regions of the west.
'Twas then her Influence reach'd Britannia's isle,
Dispel'd the mist, and made the desarts smile;
Serene on Cam, and Isis' banks she shed
Her gentle rays, and night before her fled.
Science of old descended from the skys:
The eastern climes first felt the friendly ray,
And dawn'd alike with learning, and with day.
There clad in wisdom's robes the Magi shone,
And China glitter'd in a heaven its own.
The sacred flame, the Grecian sages fir'd;
Warm'd every breast, and every grove inspir'd.
124
Back to the skys the exil'd goddess flew:
Smote in eclipse, the sickening olives fade,
Some splendid stars shot only thro' the shade:
While Goths and Scythians, and the monkish sway,
Of pious vandals intercept the day:
Yet from those northern clouds she broke and blest,
In her last flight, the regions of the west.
'Twas then her Influence reach'd Britannia's isle,
Dispel'd the mist, and made the desarts smile;
Serene on Cam, and Isis' banks she shed
Her gentle rays, and night before her fled.
Peace to their pious manes in the skys,
Who thro' the realm bad seminaries rise;
While some by arms, and desolation rule,
'Twas theirs to found a College or a School;
O'er barbarous climes, while others tyrannize,
'Twas theirs, those barbarous climes to civilize.
Such Edward was,—in every virtue nurst,
And Frome still owes some tribute to his dust;
An humble nursery yet speaks his fame,
Whose hollow ruins echo with his name,
By time decay'd,—while drooping learning slept,
And o'er the sweating walls the muses wept.
But see restor'd,—again the classics smile,
And science hovers o'er the new-rais'd pile;
Where metaphysic tomes in cobweb hung,
Sweet sound the shelves with Virgil's sacred song:
In dust the pensive poets pine no more,
But olives bloom, where ivy crept before.
Who thro' the realm bad seminaries rise;
While some by arms, and desolation rule,
'Twas theirs to found a College or a School;
O'er barbarous climes, while others tyrannize,
'Twas theirs, those barbarous climes to civilize.
Such Edward was,—in every virtue nurst,
And Frome still owes some tribute to his dust;
An humble nursery yet speaks his fame,
Whose hollow ruins echo with his name,
By time decay'd,—while drooping learning slept,
And o'er the sweating walls the muses wept.
125
And science hovers o'er the new-rais'd pile;
Where metaphysic tomes in cobweb hung,
Sweet sound the shelves with Virgil's sacred song:
In dust the pensive poets pine no more,
But olives bloom, where ivy crept before.
See a new Tutor, with pacific sway,
To grammar's thorny doctrine smooth the way.
Inspir'd with sense, and sweetness to impart
To list'nings youths, the rudiments of art;
Severely mild, and cautious of th' extreme,
Can teach with temper, and rebuke with phlegm;
Best form'd t'unfold the poet's sacred page,
And mark their charms, who feels himself their rage.
To grammar's thorny doctrine smooth the way.
Inspir'd with sense, and sweetness to impart
To list'nings youths, the rudiments of art;
Severely mild, and cautious of th' extreme,
Can teach with temper, and rebuke with phlegm;
Best form'd t'unfold the poet's sacred page,
And mark their charms, who feels himself their rage.
As the wise husbandman explores with skill,
What soil is best to plant, and what to till;
The wise preceptor studies every art,
To know the genius, and to mend the heart.
As well one med'cine, each disease will hit,
As the same method all complexions fit.
Fruitless the toil, to wash the negro white,
To polish boors, or make a blockhead bright:
So vain is teaching, time, and terror try'd,
Where genius fails, and nature has deny'd;
In vain by tutors train'd, by parents nurs'd,
If warp'd in embryo, and by Pallas curs'd.
What soil is best to plant, and what to till;
The wise preceptor studies every art,
To know the genius, and to mend the heart.
As well one med'cine, each disease will hit,
As the same method all complexions fit.
Fruitless the toil, to wash the negro white,
To polish boors, or make a blockhead bright:
So vain is teaching, time, and terror try'd,
Where genius fails, and nature has deny'd;
In vain by tutors train'd, by parents nurs'd,
If warp'd in embryo, and by Pallas curs'd.
126
Yet
Busby's pedants still one circle keep,
Like mills, which in one motion always sleep:
To every scholar the same system suit,
And treat a Bacon, as they treat a brute;
Still keep the passive slaves in one dull round,
With birchen sceptre, and despotic sound.
Like mills, which in one motion always sleep:
To every scholar the same system suit,
And treat a Bacon, as they treat a brute;
Still keep the passive slaves in one dull round,
With birchen sceptre, and despotic sound.
Severity, for brutes alone design'd,
Enervates half the vigour of the mind:
Confounds the modest—makes the vicious mad,
Destroys good parts—and never mends the bad.
Enervates half the vigour of the mind:
Confounds the modest—makes the vicious mad,
Destroys good parts—and never mends the bad.
They who correct with anger and chagrin,
E're they reprove, shou'd with themselves begin.
Some rugged minds, incorrigibly bold,
May be by fear subdu'd, or force control'd;
But for one savage, by compulsion tam'd,
Ten are by love, and gentleness reclaim'd.
Disgrace,—or praise,—or pride, will oft' prevail,
When slavish fear, and furious ferules fail:
For generous minds, with native freedom born,
Disdain the thraldom, and the tyrant scorn.
Or when releas'd from grammar's servile fetters,
Still learning loath, and dread the smart of letters.
The child by nurses terrify'd at night,
Always associates darkness, and a sprite:
So boys to rods, and reading, long confin'd,
Still couple books and bondage in their mind.
E're they reprove, shou'd with themselves begin.
Some rugged minds, incorrigibly bold,
May be by fear subdu'd, or force control'd;
But for one savage, by compulsion tam'd,
Ten are by love, and gentleness reclaim'd.
Disgrace,—or praise,—or pride, will oft' prevail,
When slavish fear, and furious ferules fail:
For generous minds, with native freedom born,
Disdain the thraldom, and the tyrant scorn.
Or when releas'd from grammar's servile fetters,
Still learning loath, and dread the smart of letters.
The child by nurses terrify'd at night,
Always associates darkness, and a sprite:
So boys to rods, and reading, long confin'd,
Still couple books and bondage in their mind.
127
The verbal knowledge of grammatic art,
Of Education is the lowest part.
In Priscian's rules, some scrupulously nice,
Correct false concord, and connive at vice.
Clowns may be taught to construe, or translate,
As pies, or parrots, may be taught to prate,
Expound all Walker—all Parnassus scan,
But in the critic, often lose the man;
Exact in prosody, in mood and tense,
Well skill'd in sound, but destitute of sense.
Some listed are to learn—they know not how,
Constrain'd to plod—whom nature meant to plough;
Like squirrels with their bells, to jingle round,
As some learn notes, without a taste for sound;
Who shade the rostrum, or disgrace the bar,
Might shine behind the counter, or the car.
Of Education is the lowest part.
In Priscian's rules, some scrupulously nice,
Correct false concord, and connive at vice.
Clowns may be taught to construe, or translate,
As pies, or parrots, may be taught to prate,
Expound all Walker—all Parnassus scan,
But in the critic, often lose the man;
Exact in prosody, in mood and tense,
Well skill'd in sound, but destitute of sense.
Some listed are to learn—they know not how,
Constrain'd to plod—whom nature meant to plough;
Like squirrels with their bells, to jingle round,
As some learn notes, without a taste for sound;
Who shade the rostrum, or disgrace the bar,
Might shine behind the counter, or the car.
To country-school the satchel'd youths are sent,
O'er barbarous sounds to pore in discontent;
Like felon slaves condemn'd to banishment.
To learn tongues spoke two thousand years ago,
Who scarce their own domestic language know.
So Marcus travels to Marseilles, or Rome,
Mere stranger to his laws, and lands at home.
O'er barbarous sounds to pore in discontent;
Like felon slaves condemn'd to banishment.
To learn tongues spoke two thousand years ago,
Who scarce their own domestic language know.
So Marcus travels to Marseilles, or Rome,
Mere stranger to his laws, and lands at home.
If youths for no profession are design'd,
Mere verbal knowledge but contracts the mind.
Yet some with tympany of sound will swell
With pompous language, like an empty bell.
But if design'd, without a genius fit;
You often spoil the tradesman in the wit.
Laws,—ethics,—painting,—globes, and stars on high,
Each station suit, and shine to every eye.
Geography and history invite,
Improve the genius, and the mind delight:
Things, more than words th' attentive youth engage
Please every taste, and polish every age.
Mere verbal knowledge but contracts the mind.
128
With pompous language, like an empty bell.
But if design'd, without a genius fit;
You often spoil the tradesman in the wit.
Laws,—ethics,—painting,—globes, and stars on high,
Each station suit, and shine to every eye.
Geography and history invite,
Improve the genius, and the mind delight:
Things, more than words th' attentive youth engage
Please every taste, and polish every age.
Critics object, such studies are the care,
Of higher life, and academic air:
But few e'er reach that philosophic plain,
Stuck in the mire of grammar and chicane:
Did narrow pœdagogues their province know,
Knowledge, and language wou'd promiscuous grow.
As on one tree beneath indulgent skys,
Blossoms and fruit with blended beauty rise.
Of higher life, and academic air:
But few e'er reach that philosophic plain,
Stuck in the mire of grammar and chicane:
Did narrow pœdagogues their province know,
Knowledge, and language wou'd promiscuous grow.
As on one tree beneath indulgent skys,
Blossoms and fruit with blended beauty rise.
Low reptile minds, on earth still grovelling lie
'Tis Education lifts the soul on high.
While thro' the stormy sea of life we sail,
This smooths the tide, and swells the promis'd gale:
Launch'd well at first,—in vain the billows roar,
She calms the tempest, and secures the shore;
Taught by this goddess,—how to steer sedate,
Amidst the Favours, or the frowns of fate;
Rove while we will,—that peace and competence,
Mock all the shine of courts,—the joys of sense;
That happiness alone in virtue lies,
And to be truly learn'd,—is to be wise.
'Tis Education lifts the soul on high.
While thro' the stormy sea of life we sail,
This smooths the tide, and swells the promis'd gale:
Launch'd well at first,—in vain the billows roar,
She calms the tempest, and secures the shore;
Taught by this goddess,—how to steer sedate,
Amidst the Favours, or the frowns of fate;
129
Mock all the shine of courts,—the joys of sense;
That happiness alone in virtue lies,
And to be truly learn'd,—is to be wise.
Near
Frome's romantic vales, the muse thus sung,
Where pious Rowe once tun'd her silver tongue.
Close by those laurels, where the vestal pray'd,
I oft' invoke her venerable shade;
Lofty the subject,—and not low the praise,
If she inspire, and B---le approve the lays.
Where pious Rowe once tun'd her silver tongue.
Close by those laurels, where the vestal pray'd,
I oft' invoke her venerable shade;
Lofty the subject,—and not low the praise,
If she inspire, and B---le approve the lays.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |