« AnteriorContinuar »
Schools of every Kind to be found in the Borough—The School
for Infants—The School Preparatory: the Sagacity of the Mistress in foreseeing Character-Day-Schools of the lower Kind-A Master with Talents adapted to such Pupils: one of superior Qualifications—Boarding-Schools: that for young Ladies: one going first to the Governess, one finally returning Home-School for Youth: Master and Teacher; various Dispositions and Capacities-The Miser-Boy - The BoyBully-Sons of Farmers: how amused—What Study will effect, examined-A College Life: one sent from his College to a Benefice; one retained there in Dignity—The Advantages in either Case not considerable—Where then the Good of a literary Life ? —Answered— Conclusion.
To every class we have a school assign'd, ,
Rules for all ranks and food for every mind :
Yet one there is, that small regard to rule
Or study pays, and still is deem'd a school ;
That, where a deaf, poor, patient widow sits,
And awes some thirty infants as she knits;
Infants of humble, busy wives, who pay
Some trifling price for freedom through the day.
At this good matron's hut the children meet,
Who thus becomes the mother of the street:
Her room is small, they cannot widely stray,-
Her threshold high, they cannot run away:
Though deaf, she sees the rebel-heroes shout,-
Though lame, her white rod nimbly walks about';
With band of yarn she keeps offenders in,
And to her gown the sturdiest rogue can pin :
Aided by these, and spells, and tell-tale birds,
Her power they dread and reverence her words.
To learning's second seats we now proceed,
Where humming students gilded primers read;
Or books with letters large and pictures gay,
To make their reading but a kind of play-
“ Reading made Easy," so the titles tell;
But they who read must first begin to spell :
There may be profit in these arts, but still
Learning is labour, call it what you will ;
l'pon the youthful mind a heavy load,
Nor must we hope to find the royal road.
Some will their easy steps to science show,
And some to heav’n itself their by-way know;
Ah! trust them not,—who fame or bliss would share,
Must learn by labour, and must live by care.
Another matron of superior kind,
For higher schools prepares the rising mind;
Preparatory she her learning calls,
The step first made to colleges and halls.
She early sees to what the mind will
Nor abler judge of infant-powers I know;
She sees what soon the lively will impede,
And how the steadier will in turn succeed;
Observes the dawn of wisdom, fancy, taste,
And knows what parts will wear and what will waste:
She marks the mind too lively, and at once
Sees the gay coxcomb and the rattling dunce.
Long has she lived, and much she loves to trace
Her former pupils, now a lordly race;
Whom when she sees rich robes and furs bedeck,
She marks the pride which once she strove to check:
A burgess comes, and she remembers well
How hard her task to make his worship spell;
Cold, selfish, dull, inanimate, unkind,
"Twas but by anger he display'd a mind :
Now civil, smiling, complaisant, and gay,
The world has worn th’ unsocial crust away;
That sullen spirit now a softness wears, .
And, save by fits, e'en dulness disappears :
But still the matron can the man behold,
Dull, selfish, hard, inanimate, and cold.
A merchant passes,—“ probity and truth,
“ Prudence and patience, mark'd thee from thy youth.”
Thus she observes, but oft retains her fears
who now with name unstain'd
Nor hope relinquishes, for one who yet
Is lost in error and involved in debt;
For latent evil in that heart she found,
More open here, but here the core was sound.
Various our day-schools: here behold we one
Empty and still :—the morning duties done,
Soil'd, tatter'd, worn, and thrown in various heaps,
Appear their books, and there confusion sleeps ;
The workmen all are from the Babel fled,
And lost their tools, till the return they dread:
Meantime the master, with his wig awry,
Prepares his books for business by-and-by:
Now all th' insignia of the monarch laid
Beside him rest, and none stand by afraid;
He, while his troop light-hearted leap and play,
Is all intent on duties of the day;
No more the tyrant stern or judge severe,
He feels the father's and the husband's fear.
Ah! little think the timid trembling crowd,
That one so wise, so powerful, and so proud,
Should feel himself, and dread the humble ills
Of rent-day charges and of coalman's bills ;
That while they mercy from their judge implore,
He fears himself—a knocking at the door;
And feels the burthen as his neighbour states
His humble portion to the parish-rates.
They sit th' allotted hours, then eager run,
Rushing to pleasure when the duty's done ;
His hour of leisure is of different kind,
Then cares domestic rush upon his mind,
And half the ease and comfort he enjoys,
Is when surrounded by slates, books, and boys.