The Comic Latin Grammar: a new and facetious Introduction to the Latin tongue with numerous illustrations

by Percival Leigh

This book, like the razors in Dr. Wolcot’s story, is made to sell. This last word has a rather equivocal meaning—but we scorn to blot, otherwise we should say to be sold. An article offered for sale may, nevertheless, be worth buying; and it is hoped that the resemblance between the aforesaid razors, and this our production, does not extend to the respective sharpness of the commodities. The razors proved scarcely worth a farthing to the clown who bought them for eighteen-pence, and were fit to shave nothing but the beard of an oyster. We trust that the “Comic Latin Grammar” will be found to cut, now and then, rather better, at least, than that comes to; and that it will reward the purchaser, at any rate, with his pennyworth for his penny, by its genuine bonâ fide contents. There are many works, the pages of which contain a good deal of useful matter—Perhaps we should have adopted the title of “Latin in sport made learning in earnest”—which would give a tolerable idea of the nature of our undertaking. The doctrine, it is true, may bear the same relation to the lighter matter, that the bread in Falstaff’s private account did to the liquor; though if we have given our reader “a deal of sack,” we wish it may not be altogether “intolerable.” Latin, however, is a great deal less like bread, to most boys, than it is like physic; especially antimony, ipecacuanha, and similar medicines. It ought, therefore, to be given in something palatable, and capable of causing it to be retained by the—mind—in what physicians call a pleasant vehicle. This we have endeavoured to invent—and if we have disguised the flavour of the drugs without destroying their virtues, we shall have entirely accomplished our design. There are a few particularly nasty pills, draughts, and boluses, which we could find no means of sweetening; and with which, on that account, we have not attempted to meddle. For these omissions we must request some little indulgence. Our performance is confessedly imperfect, but be it remembered, that
“Men rather do their broken weapons use,
Than their bare hands.”

The “Comic Latin Grammar” can, certainly, never be called an imposition, as another Latin Grammar frequently is. We remember having had the whole of it to learn at school, besides being—no matter what—for pinning a cracker to the master’s coat-tail. The above hint is worthy the attention of boys; nor will the following, probably, be thrown away upon school-masters, particularly such as reside in the north of England. “Laugh and grow fat,” is an ancient and a true maxim. Now, will not the “Comic Latin Grammar,” (like Scotch marmalade and Yarmouth bloaters) form a “desirable addition” to the breakfast of the young gentlemen entrusted to their care? We dare not say much of its superseding the use of the cane, as we hold all old established customs in the utmost reverence and respect; and, besides, have no wish to deprive any one of innocent amusement. We would only suggest, that flagellation is now sometimes necessary, and that whatever tends to render it optional may, now and then, save trouble.

92 pages, ebook

First published May 4, 1840

About the author

1813-1889

Reviews

[Eric · Rating 2 out of 5]

The introductory material makes a big deal of how mirthful the Victorian Age would be remembered as. Alas, this book shan't be remembered so fondly. Published in 1840, it's not the author's fault, per se, that the book is such a dreadful bore that I could barely finish a quarter of it. It's very much a product of its time and place, with humor that is very local and colloquial in nature.

I almost forgot the worst part - at least from the Latin student's perspective. There are numerous clever poems designed to aid memorization, but they rely on rhymes inconsistent with both the restored classical and Ecclesiastical pronunciations. Rather, they employ the English pronunciation, which is an appallingly awful historical anomaly.

TL;DR: If you don't care about proper Latin pronunciation and obscure 19th century references and casual racism are your thing, have fun. I couldn't finish it.

[Harry Collier IV]

A delight.

[Wax · Rating 4 out of 5]

Published in MDCCX, the author makes several references to The Pickwick Papers, written by Charles Dickens in 1837.

The witty remarks show a cleverness and facility with the the English language I am unaccustomed to seeing these days.

[Aaron Cummings · Rating 1 out of 5]

Cross Eton Grammar withe devil's Dictionary. You get this. Humorous at moments but the joke gets old quickly.

[Chantal · Rating 2 out of 5]

Either I've lost my sense of humour or it's a ridiculously boring book.