The progress of dulness, part first: or The rare adventures of Tom Brainless, shewing what his father and mother said of him; how he went to college, and what he learned there; how he took his degree, and went to keeping school; how afterwards he becames a great man and wore a wig; and how any body else may do the same.--The like never before published. : Very proper to be kept in all families. : [Three lines of Latin text]

The progress of dulness, part first: or The rare adventures of Tom Brainless, shewing what his father and mother said of him; how he went to college, and what he learned there; how he took his degree, and went to keeping school; how afterwards he becames a great man and wore a wig; and how any body else may do the same.--The like never before published. : Very proper to be kept in all families. : [Three lines of Latin text]

Table of contents

§

Title page

§

The PROGRESS of DULNESS.

[Page]

The PROGRESS of DULNESS.

"OUR Tom is grown a sturdy boy;

His progress fills my heart with joy;

A steady soul that yields to rule,

And quite ingenious too at school.

Our master says, (I'm sure he's right)

There's not a lad in town so bright.

He'll cypher bravely, write and read,

And say his catechism and creed,

And scorns to hesitate or faulter

In primmer, spelling-book or psalter.

[Page] Hard work indeed—he does not love it;

His genius is too much above it.

Give him a good substantial teacher,

I'll lay he makes a special preacher.

I've lov'd good learning all my life:

We'll send the lad to college, wife."

Thus sway'd by fond and sightless passion,

His parents hold a consultation:

If on their couch, or round their fire,

I need not tell, or you enquire.

The point's agreed; the boy well pleas'd,

From country cares and labours eas'd;

No more to rise by break of day

To drive home cows, or deal out hay;

To work no more in snow and hail,

And blow his fingers o'er the flail,

Or mid the toils of harvest sweat

Beneath the summer's sultry heat.

Serene, he bids the farm good-bye,

And quits the plow without a sigh.

Propitious to their constant friend,

The pow'rs of idleness attend.

So to the priest in form he goes,

Prepar'd to study and to doze.

[Page] The parson in his youth before,

Had run the same dull progress o'er:

His sole concern to see with care

His church, and farm in good repair.

His skill in tongues, that once he knew,

Had bid him long, a last adieu;

Away his latin rules had fled,

And Greek had vanish'd from his head.

Then view our youth with grammar teazir

Untaught in meaning, sense of reason;

Of knowledge e'er he gain his fill, he

Must diet long on husks of Lillie,

Drudge on for weary months in vain;

By mem'ry's strength, and dint of brain;

From thence to murd'ring Virgil's verse,

And construing Tulley, into farce,

Or lab'ring with his grave preceptor,

In Greek to blunder o'er a chapter.

The latin testament affords

The needy help, and ready words;

At hand the dictionary laid,

Gives up it's page in frequent aid

Hard by the lexicon and grammar,

Those helps for mem'ry when they stammer

[Page] The lesson's short; the priest contented;

His task to hear is sooner ended.

He lets him mind his own concerns,

Then tells his parents how he learns:

A year thus spent in gathering knowledge,

The lad sets forth t' unlade at college,

While down his sire and priest attend him,

To introduce and recommend him:

Or if detain'd, a letter's sent

Of much apocryphal content,

To set him forth, (how dull soever)

As very learn'd and very clever;

A genius of the first emission,

With burning love for erudition;

So studious he'll outwatch the moon

And think the planets set too soon;

He had but little time to fit in;

Examination too must frighten;

Depend upon't he must do well,

He knows much more than he can tell,

Admit him, and in little space

He'll beat his rivals in the race;

His father's incomes are but small,

He comes now, if he comes at all.

[Page]

So said, so done, at college now

He enters well—no matter how—

New scenes awhile his fancy please,

But all must yield to love of ease.

In the same round condemn'd each day,

To study, read, recite and pray;

To make his hours of business double—

He can't endure th' increasing trouble:

And finds at length, as times grow pressing,

All plagues are easier than his lesson.

With sleepy eyes and count'nance heavy,

With much excuse of* non paravi,

Much absence, tardes and egresses,

The college-evil on him siezes.

Then ev'ry book, which ought to please,

Stirs up the seeds of dire disease:

Greek spoils his eyes (the print's so fine)

Grown dim with study—and with wine;

Of Tully's latin much afraid,

Each page, he calls the doctor's aid;

While geometry, with lines so crooked,

Sprains all his wits to overlook it,

His sickness puts on every name,

It's cause and uses still the same;

[Page] 'Tis tooth-ach, cholic, gout or stone,

With phases various as the moon:

But though through all the body spread,

Still makes its cap'tal seat, the head,

In all diseases, 'tis expected,

The weakest parts be most infected.

Kind headach hail! thou blest disease,

The friend of idleness and ease;

Who mid the still and dreary bound,

Where college-walls her sons surround

In spite of fears, in justice spight,

Assum'st o'er laws dispensing right,

Set'st from his task the blunderer free,

Excus'd by dulness and by thee.

Thy vot'ries bid a bold defiance

To all the calls and threats of science,

Slight learning human and divine,

And hear no prayers, and fear no fine.

And yet how oft the studious gain,

The dulness of a letter'd brain;

Despising such low things the while

As English grammar, phrase and style;

Despising ev'ry nicer art,

That aids the tongue, or mends the heart

Read antient authors o'er in vain,

Nor taste one beauty they contain;

[Page] Humbly on trust accept the sense,

But deal for words at vast expence;

Search well how ev'ry term must vary

From lexicon to dictionary;

And plodding on in one dull tone,

Gain antient tongues, and lose their own,

Bid every graceful charm defiance,

And woo the skeleton of science.

Come ye who finer arts despise,

And scoff at verse as heathen lies;

In all the pride of dulness rage

At Pope, or Milton's deathless page;

Or stung by truth's deep-searching line,

Rave ev'n at rhymes as low as mine:

Say ye who boast the name of wise,

Wherein substantial learning lies.

Is it, superb in classic lore,

To speak what Homer spoke before,

To write the language Tulley wrote,

The style, the cadence and the note?

Is there a charm in sounds of Greek,

No language else can learn to speak;

That cures distemper'd brains at once,

Like Pliny's rhymes, for broken bones?

[Page] Is there a spirit found in latin,

That must evap'rate in translating?

And say, are sense and genius bound

To any vehicles of sound?

Is it by mathematic's aid

To count the worlds in light array'd,

To know each star, that lights it's eye,

To sparkle in the midnight sky?

Say ye, who draw the curious line

Between the useful and the fine,

How little can this noble art

It's aid in human things impart,

Or give to life a chearful ray,

And force our pains, and cares away,

Is it to know whate'er was done

Above the circle of the sun?

Is it to lift the active mind

Beyond the bounds by heav'n design'd;

And leave our little world at home,

Through realms of entity to roam;

Attempt the secrets dark to scan,

Eternal wisdom hid from man;

For sense, deal loads of definitions,

And fritter truth in sub-divisions,

And make religion but the sign

In din of battle when to join?

[Page] Vain man, to madness still a prey,

Thy space a point, thy life a day,

A feeble worm, that aim'st to stride

In all the foppery of pride!

The glimmering lamp of reason's ray

Was giv'n to guide thy darksome way,

Why wilt thou spread thine insect-wings,

And strive to reach sublimer things?

Thy doubts confess, thy blindness own,

Nor vex thy thoughts with scenes unknown.

Indulgent heav'n to man below,

Hath all explain'd we need to know;

Hath clearly taught enough to prove

Content below, and bliss above.

Thy boastful wish how proud and vain,

While heav'n forbids the vaunting strain!

For metaphysics rightly shown

But teach how little can be known:

Though quibbles still maintain their station,

Conjecture serves for demonstration,

Armies of pens drawn forth to fight,

And ******* and ****** write.

Oh! might I live to see that day,

When sense shall point to youths their way;

[Page] Through every maze of science guide;

O'er education's laws preside;

The good retain; with just discerning

Explode the fopperies of learning;

Give antient arts their real due,

Explain their faults, and beauties too,

Teach where to imitate, and mend,

And point their uses and their end.

Then bright philosophy would shine,

And ethics teach the laws divine;

Our youths might reach each nobler art,

That shews a passage to the heart;

From antient languages well known

Transfuse new beauties to our own;

With taste and fancy well resin'd,

Where moral rapture warms the mind,

From schools dismiss'd, with lib'ral hand,

Spread useful learning o'er the land;

And bid the eastern world admire

Our rising worth, and bright'ning fire.

But while through fancy's realms we roam,

The main concern is left at home;

Return'd, our hero still we find

The same, as blundering and as blind.

[Page]

Four years at college doz'd away

In sleep, and slothfulness and play,

Too dull for vice, with clearest conscience,

Charg'd with no fault, but that of nonsense,

(And nonsense long, with serious air

Has wander'd unmolested there)

He passes trial fair, and free,

And takes in form his first degree.

A scholar see him now commence

Without the aid of books or sense:

For passing college cures the brain,

Like mills to grind men young again.

The scholar-dress, that once array'd him,

The charm,* Admitto te ad gradum,

With touch of parchment can refine,

And make the veriest coxcomb shine,

Confer the gift of tongues at once,

And fill with sense the vacant dunce.

So kingly crowns contain quintessence

Of worship, dignity and presence;

[Page] Give learning, genius, virtue worth,

Wit, valor, wisdom and so forth;

Hide the bald pate, and cover o'er

The cap of folly worn before.

Our hero's wit and learning now may

Be prov'd by token of Diploma,

Of that Diploma, which with speed

He learns to construe and to read;

And stalks abroad with conscious stride,

In all the airs of pedant-pride,

With passport sign'd for wit and knowledge

And current under seal of college.

Few months now past, he sees with pain

His purse as empty as his brain,

His father leaves him then to fate,

And throws him off, as useless weight;

But gives him good advice, to teach

A school at first, and then the preach.

Thou reason'st well; it must be so;

For nothing else thy son can do.

As thieves of old, t' avoid the halter,

Took refuge in the holy altar;

[Page] Oft dulness flying from disgrace

Finds safety in that sacred place;

There boldly rears his head, or rests

Secure from ridicule or jests;

Where dreaded satire may not dare

Offend his wig's extremest hair;

Where scripture sanctifies his strains,

And rev'rence hides the want of brains.

Next see our youth at school appear,

Procur'd for forty pounds a year,

His ragged regiment round assemble,

Taught, not to read, but fear and tremble.

Before him, rods prepare his way,

Those dreaded antidotes to play,

Then thron'd aloft in elbow-chair,

With solemn face and awful air,

He tries with ease and unconcern,

To teach what ne'er himself could learn;

Gives law and punishment alone,

Judge, jury, bailiff, all in one;

Holds all good learning must depend

Upon his rod's extremest end,

[Page] Whose great electric virtue's such,

Each genius brightens at the touch;

With threats and blows (incitements pressing)

Drives on his lads to learn each lesson;

Thinks flogging cures all moral ills,

And breaks their heads to break their wills.

The year is done; he takes his leave;

The children smile; the parents grieve;

And seek again, their school to keep,

One just as good, and just as cheap,

Now to some priest, that's fam'd for teaching,

He goes to learn the art of preaching;

And settles down with earnest zeal

Sermons to study, and to steal:

Six months from all the world retires

To kindle up his cover'd fires;

Learns the nice art, to make with ease

The scriptures speak whate'er he please;

With judgment unperceiv'd to quote

What Poole explain'd, or Henry wrote;

To give the gospel new editions,

Split doctrines into propositions,

[Page] Learn the grave style and goodly phrase,

Safe-handed down from Cromwell's days,

And shun with anxious care, the while

Th' infection of a modern style:

Or on the wings of folly fly

Aloft in metaphysic sky;

The system of the world explain,

Till night and chaos come again;

Deride what old divines can say,

Point out to heav'n a nearer way:

Explode all known, establish'd rules,

Affirm our fathers all were fools;

The present age is growing wise,

But wisdom in her cradle lies;

Late, like Minerva, born and bred;

Not from a Joves's, but scribler's head,

While thousand youths their homage lend her,

And nursing fathers rock and tend her.

Round him much manuscript is spread,

Extracts from living works, and dead,

Themes, sermons, plans of controversy,

That hack and mangle without mercy,

[Page] And whence, to glad the reader's eyes,

The future dialogue shall rise.

At length matur'd the grand design,

He stalks abroad, a grave divine.

Mean while, from ev'ry distant seat

At stated time the clergy meet.

Our hero comes, his sermon reads,

Explains the doctrine of his creeds,

A licence gains to preach and pray,

And makes his bow, and goes his way.

What though his wits could ne'er dispense

One page of grammar, or of sense;

What though his learning be so slight,

He scarcely knows to spell or write;

What though his skull be cudgel-proof!

He's orthodox, and that's enough.

Perhaps with genius we'd dispense;

But sure we look at least for sense.

Ye fathers of our Church, attend

The serious counsels of a friend,

[Page] Whose utmost wish, in nobler ways,

Your sacred dignity to raise.

Though blunt the style, the truths set down

Ye can't deny—though some may frown.

Yes, there are men, nor those a few,

The foes of virtue, and of you;

Who, nurtur'd long in dulness' school,

Make vice their trade, and sin by rule,

Who deem it courage, heav'n to brave,

And wit, to scoff at all that's grave;

Vent stolen jests, with strange grimaces,

From folly's book of common places:

While mid the simple throng around

Each kindred blockhead greets the sound,

And, like electric fire, at once,

The laugh is caught from dunce to dunce.

The deists scoffs ye may despise;

Within yourselves your danger lies;

For who would wish neglecting rule,

To aid the triumphs of a fool?

From heav'n at first your order came,

From heav'n receiv'd it's sacred name,

[Page] Indulg'd to man, to point the way,

That leads from darkness up to day,

Your highborn dignity attend,

And view your origin and end.

While human souls are all your care,

By warnings, counsels, preaching, prayer,

In bands of christian friendship join'd,

Where pure affection warms the mind,

While each performs the pious race,

Nor dulness e'er usurps a place;

No vice shall brave your awful test,

Nor folly dare to broach the jest,

Each waiting eye shall humbly bend,

And rev'rence on your steps attend.

But when each point of serious weight,

Is torn with wrangling and debate,

When truth, mid rage of dire divisions,

Is left, to fight for definitions,

And fools assume your sacred place,

It threats your order with disgrace;

Bids genius from your seats withdraw,

And seek the pert, loquacious law;

[Page] Or deign in physic's paths to rank,

With ev'ry quack and mountebank;

Or in the ways of trade content,

Plod ledgers o'er of cent. per cent.

While in your seats so sacred, whence

We look for piety and sense,

Port dulness raves in schoolboy style;

Your friends must blush, your foes will smile,

While men, who teach the glorious way,

Where heav'n unfolds celestial day,

Assume the task sublime, to bring

The message of th' eternal king,

Disgrace those honors they receive,

And want that sense, they aim to give.

Now in the desk with solemn air,

Our hero makes his audience stare;

Asserts with all dogmatic boldness,

Where impudence is yok'd to dulness;

Reads o'er his notes with halting pace,

Mask'd in the stiffness of his face;

With gestures such as might become

Those statues once that spoke at Rome,

[Page] In awkward tones, nor said, nor sung,

Slow-rumbling o'er the faltring tongue,

Two hours his drawling speech holds on,

And names it preaching when he's done.

With roving tir'd, he fixes down

For life, in some unsettled town,

People and priest full well agree;

For why—they know no more than he.

Vast tracts of unknown lands he gains,

Better than those the moon contains:

There deals in preaching and in prayer,

And starves on sixty pounds a year,

And culls his texts, and tills his farm,

And does no good, and little harm;

On sunday in his best array,

Deals forth the dulness of the day;

And while above he spends his breath,

The yawning audience nod beneath.

Thus glib-tongu'd Merc'ry in his hand

Stretch'd forth the sleep-compelling wand.

Each eye in endless doze to keep—

The God of speaking, and of sleep.

END of Part I.

Notes

*

Non paravi, I have not prepared for recitation. An excuse commonly given.

↵

*

Admitto to ad gradum, I admit you to a degree; part of the words used in conferring the honors of college

↵

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE PROGRESS OF DULNESS.

§

§

[Page]

THE PROGRESS OF DULNESS, PART FIRST: OR THE RARE ADVENTURES OF TOM BRAINLESS; SHEWING What his Father and Mother said of him; how he went to College, and what he learned there; how he took his Degree, and went to keeping School; how afterwards he became a great man and wore a wig; and how any body else may do the same.—The like never before published. Very proper to be kept in all Families.

Daries, daries, astataries, dissunapiter: huat, hanat, ista, pista, fista, domi abo, damnostra.

Carmen antiquum contra luxata membra.

Printed in the Year 1772.

§

§

[Page]

"PRAY what does the author mean?" is the first question most readers will ask, and the last they are able to answer. Therefore in a word I will explain the subject and design of the following poem.

The subject is the state of the times in regard to literature and religion. The author was prompted to write by a hope that it might be of use to point out, in a clear, concise, and striking manner, those general errors, that hinder the advantages of education, and the growth of piety. The subject is inexhaustible; nor is my design yet completed. This first part describes the principal mistakes in one course of life, and exemplifies the following well-known truth, That to the frequent scandal, as well of religion, as learning, a fellow, without any share of genius, or application to study, may pass with credit through life, receive the honors of a liberal education, and be admitted to the right hand of fellowship among ministers of the gospel. That, except in one neighbouring province, nonsense and ignorance wander unmolested at our colleges, examinations are dwindled to meer form and ceremony, and after[Page]four years dozing there, no one is ever refused the honors of a degree, on account of dulness and insufficiency. That the meer knowledge of antient languages, of the abstruser parts of mathematics; and the dark reserches of metaphysics, is of little advantage in any business or profession in life. That it would be more beneficial, in every place of public education, to take pains in teaching the elements of oratory, the grammar of the English tongue, and the elegancies of style, and composition. That in numberless instances throughout these colonies, sufficient care hath not been taken to exclude the ignorant and irreligious, from the sacred desk. That this tenderness to the undeserving, tends to debase the dignity of the clergy, and to hinder many worthy men from undertaking the office of the ministry. And that the virulent controversies of the present day, concerning religious, or in many cases, meerly speculative opinions, savouring so highly of vanity and ostentation, and breathing a spirit so opposite to christian benevolence, hath done more hurt to the cause of religion, than all the malice, the ridicule, and the folly of its enemies.

Information about this book

Title statement

The progress of dulness, part first: or The rare adventures of Tom Brainless, shewing what his father and mother said of him; how he went to college, and what he learned there; how he took his degree, and went to keeping school; how afterwards he becames a great man and wore a wig; and how any body else may do the same.--The like never before published. : Very proper to be kept in all families. : [Three lines of Latin text]

Trumbull, John, 1750-1831.

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI :

Date

2008-09.

ID [DLPS]

N09891

ID [TCP]

N09891

ID [STC]

Evans 12585

ID [NOTIS]

APY5221

ID [IMAGE-SET]

12585

ID [EVANS-CITATION]

99032381

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This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early American Imprints, 1639-1800 ; no. 12585.

Notes

(Evans-TCP ; no. N09891)

Transcribed from: (Readex Archive of Americana ; Early American Imprints, series I ; image set 12585)

Images scanned from Readex microprint and microform: (Early American imprints. First series ; no. 12585)

Source

— The progress of dulness, part first: or The rare adventures of Tom Brainless, shewing what his father and mother said of him; how he went to college, and what he learned there; how he took his degree, and went to keeping school; how afterwards he becames a great man and wore a wig; and how any body else may do the same.--The like never before published. : Very proper to be kept in all families. : [Three lines of Latin text], Trumbull, John, 1750-1831..

Extent

vi, [1], 8-26, [2] p. ; 20 cm. (8vo)

Printed [by Thomas and Samuel Green],. [New Haven] :: in the year 1772.. (In verse.) (Attributed to John Trumbull in BAL.) (Ascribed to the New Haven press of Thomas and Samuel Green, who are named in the imprint of the third part (Evans 13052).) (With a half-title.) (Three states of the gathering [A] noted in BAL; q.v.) ("Advertisement. Preparing for the press, The progress of dulness, part second; or, The adventures of Dick Hairbrain."--p. [27].)

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