I like the way Wheelock is organized to bring a diligent student all the way to pretty fair grasp of the grammar of the language in the space of 40 chapters. One of the things it is valued for is that it uses increasingly unmodified ancient sentiments as exercises. As I used to joke, for modern languages you study such phrases as “I wish to go to the library” whereas when you study an ancient language it’s more like “He certainly denied himself ever to have oppressed free men.”
Why not? If you’re studying the Latin, you might as well be absorbing Roman wit and wisdom while you’re at it. Yet, years after I finished my 40 chapters but still couldn’t pick up and read a piece of Latin for the life of me without having to painfully convert it to English, I discovered that on the internet there were people out there trying to learn to speak and read the language, and build a modern vocabulary on everything from the absurd to the sublime.
Latin happens to be really good for opening up ancient ideas, or even relatively modern ones from the dawn of modern science. But there exists a kind of attitude that it’s somehow profane to make other use of the language. I’ve given spiels on this general issue elsewhere on this board, but I do believe that Wheelock’s own emphasis on antiquity re-enforces this attitude to the detriment of the study of Latin.
I’m not just talking about the reliance on Sententiae Antīquae. Take, for example, the fact that it doesn’t introduce the verb eō, īre (‘go’) until the 37th chapter. The verb is irregular, but there are many forms with pre-fixes compounded to it which are essential if you want to be able to say a good number of perfectly ordinary things. The reason there are so many compounds and the verb is so irregular is precisely because it was used so heavily. This is a verb that seriously works for a living and has the callouses to prove it. Exactly the kind of thing that is the very breath of a language. But you don’t need to know it until late because Wheelock’s Latin is not about saying perfectly ordinary things. But, you’ll run into īre almost immediately when you start reading outside the text book, so they do let you have it before they’re done with you.
Still, it’s a nicely organized introduction to Latin grammar. If I were teaching Latin and got to choose my texts, I would favor the inexpensive and readily available Wheelock’s Latin Grammar as a good supplement to Lingua Latīna per sē Illūstrāta as the main text. I find the “direct method” (learning Latin by being asked to understand it in its own terms) much more effective, but the benefits of special attention to grammar stack with the benefits of direct reading.
Absolutely keep track of your Macrons. Read LaFleur’s own take on this subject. It’s not so that you can later mark quantity in a poem. It’s so that you can right now feel the language in your mouth, which will do a lot more for your understanding of verse than an ability to mark quantity, with the added benefit that it will add force and vivacity to prose. And, really, it’s not even quantity itself that is of principle interest, it’s really vowel quality. In Latin that happens to have mapped neatly onto quantity for the classical period. And, the nice thing about Wheelock is that in the paradigms provided, they also give the accents. Observe those when you recite the paradigms out loud.