Rnnk .L(y>n4 GRAY'S ELEGY. liiteKcifN^ ai^S Gr5in2n2sitical Explaipatioi^s Si.[2^ Gon2n2ei2t5, Suggestions as to How it Should be Taught. By R. HEBER HOLBROOK, Vice-President National Normal Univeksity, lebanon, ohio. Author of " Outlines of U. S. History," " The New Method, or School Expositions, "Drill Lists in U. S. History," &c. GRAY'S ELEGI liitefarvi aipi Gfan2n2atical nxplai^atioi^s aip^ Gon2n2ei2t§, Suggestions AS to How it Should be Taught. By R. HEBER HOLBROOK, 'I Vice-President National Normal University, lebanon, ohio. Author of "Outlines of U. S. History," "The New Method, or School Expositions "Drill Lists in U. S. History," &c. %^ LEBANON, OHIO: C K. Ham.i.ton & Co., University Publishkes. 1«86. APR 17 1886. I '0^4 SHV^^ T COPTRIGHT IBNi, R. H. HOLBKOOK. ^ CONTENTS'*" A Visit to stoke Pogis, The Scene of the Elegy 7 History of the Poem 10 Elegy to Whom - 12 Preliminary Survey - - 13 The Poem 1 14—43 First Stanza 14 Second Stanza — 16 Third Stanza IV Fourth Stanza 17 Fifth Stanzi 18 Sixth Stanza 19 Cotter's Saturday Night Referred to 20 Seventh Stanza 20 Eighth Stanza 21 Ninth Stanza 22 Tenth Stanza 23 Eleventh Stanza 24 Twelfth Stanza 25 Thirteenth Stanza 26 Fourteenth Stanza 27 Fifteenth Stanza 28 Sixteenth Stanza 29 Seventeenth Stanza 29 Eighteenth Stanza 30 Suppressed Stanzas a, 6, c, d 31 Nineteenth Stanza 31 Twentieth Stanza 32 Twenty-flrst Stanza 33 Twenty-second Stanza 34 Twenty- third Stanza 35 Twenty-fourth Stanza 36 Twenty-fifth Stanza 38 (3) 4 Suppressed Stanza c 1 38 Twenty-sixth Stanza 39 Twenty-seventh Stanza 40 Twenty-eighth Stanza 40 Twenty-ninth Stanza 41 Suppressed Stanza/ f. 41 Thirtieth Stanza 42 Thirty-first Stanza 42 Thirty-second Stanza 43 Outline of Gray's Elegy 44 Concluding Suggestions 45 i -"H PREFACE. "^ In the preparation of this work, the writer has made no effort at literary flourish. He is exceedingly anxious not to appear as one at- tempting to paint the lily or adorn the rose, or as Lowell puts it — " Plastering our swallow-nesta on the awful Past, And twittering around the work of larger men As we had builded, what we but deface." On the other hand, he would be simply a plain, humble, yet reverent guide for plain, humble and reverent strangers to the beauties of this matchless poem, even as the sexton of a beavitiful cathedral directs the steps of the respectful visitor through the sounding arch ways of his loved minster. If the comments and explanations seem excessively elementary, — even puerile, — to certain readers, they must remember that they are intended for very beginners in literature, such as are found in an ordinary sixth reader class in a country school. Yet, teachers will see at once that these pages are intended for the teacher rather than for the pupils, to whom it will remain only a reference book, if it fall into their hands at all. This little volume is the result of practical class management, and is sent forth to help forward the "Expressive" phase* of school work to which the writer has especially dedicated his efforts. *See "New Methods," p. 118, C. K. Hamilton & Co. (5) — » » » — A VISIT TO STOKE POGIS, Ths ScERE of ths Elsgy,^ It is a cool afternoon in July, and the shadows are falling eastward on fields of waving grain and lawns of emerald velvet. Overhead a few light clouds are drifting, and the green boughs of the great elms are gently stirred by a breeze from the west. Across one of the more distant fields a flock of sable rooks, — some of them fluttering and cawing, — wings its slow and melancholy flight. There is the sound of the whetting of a scythe, and, near l)y, the twittering of many birds upon a cottage roof. On either side of the country road, which runs like a white rivulet through bmks of green, the hawthorn hedges are shining, and the bright sod is spangled with all the wiLl flowers of an English summer. An odor of lime trees and of new-mown hay sweetens the air for miles and miles around. Far off in the horizon's verge, just glimmering through the haze, rises the imperialcitadel of Windsor, and close at hand a little child points to a gray spire peering out of a nest of ivy, and tells me this is Stoke Po- gis Church. If peace dwells anywhere upon this earth, its dwelling-place is here. You come into this little churchyard by a pathway across the park, and through a wooden turn-stile ; and in one moment the whole world is left behind and forgotten. Here are the nodding elms ; here is the yew tree's shade ; here " heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap." All these graves seem very old. The long grass waves over them, and some of the low stones that mark them are entirelyshrouded with ivy. Many of the "frail memorials" are made of wood. None of them is neglected or forlorn, but all of them seem to have been scattered here in that sweet disorder which is the perfectionof rural loveliness. There never, of course, could have been any thought of creating this effect; yet it remains, to win your heart forever. And here, amid this mournful beauty, the little church itself nestles close to the ground, while every tree that waves its branches *This bca itiful sketch is taken from the scrap book of a friend. It originally aripeared in tlie A'. 1'. Tribune. I am unable to discover the author, who will for- give me for thus helping to make his (or her) unknown name blessed among all theteajhers and pupils who read this elegant product of genius. g Grays Elegy. „„„„. u, an. ^^1^:^^;:^°^ ?::;?«■ jr^^V'oriKi'n^a favorite seat, and where the brown neea^e ^ ^^^ ^^^^^ j, ^ f^.^j tun.n, have made a d-- -rp t nthe tt^rf.^^Tv^o^^ ^^^ ^ . . ,^^_^ ^.^ota^role^t^YLaf at hand rtv leaves flutter dowa in soundless bene- „.other of many children one ^lone of whom, ^^as he ^^^^V_^ ^^^^ gravestone, "had ^^^ ""'^^^--^^^ ^^^'.^^w' slab-stands a few feet oblong, brick structure, covered with a ^^^^ ! t .^blet to denote its t.y f;on. the church wall, upon -J^-^^ ^ ^^^^^ f it . There was place. The poet's name has '^''\}'^^liy^l'^XnsX " The whole place is Lt need here of " -'^'^'''' .'^I'^^^'^ZT^W^^^^^ the soul of the place a his monument, and the majestic Elegy f^'J'^ music-is his immortal f.,rm of seraphic beauty and a voice of celestial musi epitaph. This stanza originally a part of the Elegy, was finally rejected by Gray. Th:;:rr nient^f Sray m -^^::^:^^,^^-^^^ him! and the visitor finds there a -oney-box f ^^e je ep^ion^^^^ ^^^^^^ butionsin aid of th,s pious des.gn. No h ng will l>ea ^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ to direct closer and closer attention to his lUe. it wa .j ^larly ivi ever recorded in ^^e history of hteraure^^^l^^^^^^^^ X pure, noble and beautiful. In two ^^^ \"^^^'/^,J'„'/, J^e qualities which ^vas exemplary almost beyond ^ P'^J^'^J^'/^^^.'S to acquire. Gray luerary character in the presen =iy ^-g-^^Ve censure o? other men ; was averse to publicity. He did not sway uy poetry, to .either did he need their ^-^^'--^'^'^^^^^.Vn'e to literature until he'had him, was a great art; and he ^^J^^^^^^^'^^^^ by the thoughtful, labo- first made it as nearly perfect as it '^°^l-V^-'°VTJ he w"oteo little. The most, among the rest, have sneered at h.m because hew ote so UU^.^.^^^^ ^^^^ colossal form of human conceit, Probably, is that ot ^^^^^_ ^^.^ thinks another creatures inferior -!^^ .^^PP^^jf ^^^ Jl^blem of his sin- reticence on the part of Gray was, in ^^^5' ^f %g^^„. There is abetter cerity and the corner-stone of his '^^^P^^^^'^^^^^f ./"J^^Tnd that is the great thing than the great man who ,s ^^^ays speaking and ^^b ^^^^ man%vho only speakr. when he has f^^^^/^^^^/^^^te^is perfect in its kind, only a few poems; but, «f J^ P'l"'=^Pfl;° ,^'3^ r^erit by reference to ill- supreme and unapproachable. He did not test meru y A Visii to Stoke Pogis. 9 informed anr\ capricious public opinion, but wrought according to the highest standards of art which learning and taste could furnish. His letters form an English Classic. There is no better prose in existence ; there is very little extant that is so good. But the crowning glory of Gray's na- ture, the element that makes it so impressive, the charm that brings the pilgrim to Stoke Pogis Church to muse upon it, was the self-poised, sin- cere and lovely exaltation of its contemplative spirit. He was a man whose conduct of life would, first of all, purify, extend and adorn the temple of his own soul, out of which should afterwards flow, in their own free way, those choral harmonies that soothe, guide and exalt the human race. He lived before he wrote. The soul of the Elegy is the soul of the man. It was his thought — which he has somewhere expressed in better words than these — that human beings are only worthy while those feelings- endure which are engendered when death has just taken from us the ob- jects of our love. That was the point of view from which he habitually looked upon the world ; and no man who has learned the lessons of expe- rience can doubt that he was right. Gray was t^renty-six years old when he wrote the first draft of the Elegy. He began this poem in 1742, at Stoke Pogis, and he finished and published it in 1750. No visitor to this churchyard can miss either its inspiration or its imagery. The poet has been deal more than a hundred years, but the scene of his rambles and reveries has suffered no material change. One of his yew trees, indeed, much weakened with age, was some time since blown down in astorm, and its fragments have been carried away. A picturesque house, contiguous to the churchyard, which, in Queen Elizabeth's lime, was a palace, and was visited by that sovereign, and which Gray knew as a man- or, has now become a dairy. All the trees of the region have, of course, waxed and expanded — not forgetting the neighboring beeches of Birnam, among which he loved to wander, and where he rright often have beei found, silting with his book, at some knarled wreath of " old fantastic roots." But, in all its general characteristics, its rustic homeliness and peaceful beauty, this "glimmering landscape," immortalized in his verse, is the same on which his living eyes have looked. There was no need to seek for him in any special spot. The cottage in which he once lived might, no doubt, be discovered ; but every nook and vista, every green lane and upland lawn and ivy-mantled tower of this delicious solitude is haunted with his presence. The night is coming on and the picture will soon be dark; but never, while memory lasts, can it fade out of the heart. What a blessing would be ours, if only we could hold forever that exaltation of the spirit, that sweet, resigned serenity, that pure freedom from all the passions of na- ture and all che cares of life, w hich comes upon us in such a place as this! Alas, and again, Alas! Even with the thought this golden mood begins to melt away; even with the thought comes our dismissal from its influence. Nor will it avail us anything now to linger at the shrine. Fortunate is he, though in bereavement and regret, who parts from beauty while yet her kiss is warm upon his lips, — waiting not for the last farewell word, hearing not the last notes of the music, seeing not the last gleams of sun- 10 Grays Elegy. set as the light dies from the sky. It was a sad parting, but the memory of the place can never now be despoiled of its loveliness. As I write these words, I stand rgain in the cool and dusky silence of the poet's church, with its air of stately age and its fragrance of tleanliness, while the light of the western sun, broken into rays of gold and ruby, streams through the great painted windows, and softly falls upon the quaint little galleries and decorous pews ; and looking forth through the low, arched door, I see the dark and melancholy boughs of the dreaming yew tree, and, nearer, a shadow of rippling leaves in the clear sunshine of the church- way patn, and all the time a quiet voice is whispering, in the chambers of thought — " No fartlier sfiek his rnerits to riisclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alil^e in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God." HISTORY OF THE POEM. Mackintosh says: ''Of all English poets, he was the most finished art- ist. He attained the highest kind of splendor of which poetical style seems capable." " Almost all Gray's poetry was lyrical — that species which, issuing from the mind in the highest state of excitement, requires an intensity of feeling which, for a long composition, the genius of no poet could support." Gray's prose is to be studied in his letters, in which '' he has shown the descriptive powers of a poet, and in new combina- tions of generally familiar words he was eminently happy." Not until 1742 did Gray begin seriously to write. At this time there were only a few considerable poets. Pope and S-vift were closing their careers. Gnldsmith and Cowper were not yet before the public. The Vicar of ^F(f/C't;/?t7^ appeared twenty-four years later. Young was just be- ginning to publish his only immortal work, the Night Thoughts. Thom- son was enjoying the >indisturbed celebrity of his Seasons, completed 1730- He died in 1748. Samuel John^on, several year^ older, outlived Gray a dozen years. They were mutually repellant throughout their lives, and after Gray's death Johnson damned him with faint praise and more censure in his Lives of the Poets. Between him and his contemporaries there was little friendship. Gray's personal peculiarities kept him aloof. If there was any inspir ilion in the times. Gray did not co'me in contact with it. His (pwn Muse was of too retired a nature to arouse or conmu- nicate any great fire. Arnold says: " Born in the same year with Mil- ton, Gray would have been another man ; born in the same year with Burns, he whuUI have been anoth r man." To which Gosse adds: " As it was, his genius pined away for want of nourishment in the atmosphere ; the wells of poetry were stagnant and there was no angel to strike the waters." The history of the Elegy is briefly as follows : The death of his uncle, Jonathan Rogers, in 1742, incited him to its beginning. The death of his History of the Poem. 11 aunt, Mary Antrobus, in 1749, seven years after he had begun it, the second stimulus, led to its completion. " He finished it, as he began it, at Stoke Pogis, giving the last touches to it on 12th of June, 1750." "Hav- ing put an end to a thing whose beginning you had seen long ago," he writes on that day to Horace Walpole, " I immediately send it to you. You will, I hope, look upon it in the light of a thing with an end lo it, a merit that most of my writings have wanted and are like to want." "Walpole's enthusiasm for the Elegy in a Country Churchyard led him to commit the grave indiscretion of handing it from friend to friend, and even of distributing manuscript copies of it, without Gray's cogniz- ance." " On the loth of February, 1751, he (Gray) received a rather imperti- nently civil letter from the publisher of a periodical called the Magazme of Magazines, coolly informing him that he was actually printing his inge- nious poem called Reflections in a Country Churchyard, and pray- ing for his indulgence and the honor of his correspondence ! Gray immedi- ately wrote to Horace Walpole (Feb. 11): ' As I am not disposed lo be either so indulgent or ^correspondent as they desire, I have but one bad way left to escape the honor they would inilict upon me, and therefore am obliged to desire you to make Dodsley print it immediately (which may be done in less than a week's time) from your copy, but without my name, in what form is most convenient for him, but on his best paper and char- acter; he must correct the press himself, and print it without an interval between the stanzas, because the sense is in some places continued with- out them.' All this was done with extraordinary promptitude, and five days after this letter of Gray's, on the i6th of February, 1751, Dodsley published a large quarto pamohlef, anonymous, price sixpence, entitled An Elegy wrote in a Country Churchyard. It was preceded by a short advertisement, not signed, but written by Horace Walpole." On the margin of the MS. preserved in Pembroke College, Cambridge., Gray cites fifteen authorized editions between 1751 and 1753. Its pira- ted editions were countless. The Magazine of Magazines persisted, al- though Gray had been neither indulgent nor correspondent, and the poem appeared in the is»ue for February, published, as was then the habit of periodicals, on the last of that month. The London Magazine stole it for its issue for March, and the Grand Magazine of Magazines copied it ii^April.^ Everybody read it in town and country ; Shenstone, faraway from iw. world of books, had seen it before the 28th of March. It achieved a complete popular success from the very firs', and the name of its author gradually prept into notoriety. The success of his poem, however, brought him little direct satisfaction, and no money. He gave the right of publication to Dadsley, as he did in all other instances. He had a Quixotic notion that it was beneath a gentleman to take money for his inventions from a bookseller, a view in which Dodsley warmly co- incided; and it was stated by another bookseller, who, after Gray's death, quarreled with M-ison, (a friend designated by the poet in his will as his biographer,) that Dodsley was known to have made nearly a thousand pounds by the poetry of Gray. i 12 Gray's Elegy. n . „ ,1,^ TY,r,f1p<;t and care.ess mode in which that .,^^ Shakespeare. Russia. With the exception ^J ^^[^7^;^°;;^ and imitited abroad ; and no English poem ^as been so ^^dely admired ^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^_^ after more than a century of ^^f^""', 7% "."line's Le Lac, t^x^ faded Us copies, even the ^^ Stf^ntm^a^aTirf^city, of a melocly that and tarnished. ^^ ^1?°^™'' _, of a moral persuasiveness that ap- is not too subtle to charm e^^Lre'trica! skill that in each line proclaims peals to every generation an^lom^^^^^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ the master. The Eleg\ "^=^y '\ ^ ^^^^^ jt is the most brilliant or of English verse, ^"-^ P^^^l^^^^fi^^'' "ge but because it combines in original or Profound yric - °- ^^^^a U the qualities that go to the n.ore balanced perfection than any oin ^ criticism of a swarm production of a fine poetical ^^^^^: J^^^^^l^,^^ the boundless vogue .< \Ve may well leave to Us ale a poem j^^^/^.^come a part and 'r/erora:r:'"^^P«ttCV„;;orhe;p.ece, eve„ or S„..e,p.»e. consislingot so tew consecutive Imes. ,k, u.est This account of the E.EOV i, »l-«--;t,^„ ";'S:Vf'T,;ot.! o'"; ^J:•^e'"^^t.X:Se:Vf''l»"irrl;s4 -itte„ b, Ed„„na W. Oosse, published by "^'f J' •"^^^'"''"J;, „„, minds the marvel of „tErS''v;Src''araSut s;££us;emem^^ the good, fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past. ELEGYTO^HOM ? An elegy is defined as a -g of lamentation in which ihe wnle^ praises the life and mourns the 'l^^}^,«/;°^^enta ors say not. It is Sieet this close definiiion ? Many of ^f^/^^^^^'^'^the word elegy, with cited by rhetoricians as an illustrauon of the use o^ sentiments, a production where merely a tone of melancholy per% aae^ and grief is not actually expressed. ^^ ^^^ ^^1^. The word elegy is PropfX ^PP/'^J ^y^^'^^de forefathers of the ham- brated in it the life and the dea h of * ^h^ "^^ J^^j ^^^ depends let." Upon the humble character of the suDjecis oi y Preliminary Survey. 13 mainly its popularity, not on its literary perfection. The Odes to Eton College, and Adversity, have quite as much felicity of phrase and tech- nical elegance, yet are scarcely read. The Elegy, so far as its expression is concerned, is not popular or easy to the ordinary reader. Compared with Longfellow's The Day is Done, or The Bridge, its style is that of a person who has a "strutting dignity," and is tall by walking- on tip-toe. It is so full of artistic perfection as to be utterly beyond the reach of most people when they read it first, and of a great many when they read it last. Yet it is readable, and the multitude do receive from it pleasing impressions; but their impressions come, we think, not so much from literary appreciation, as from the sentiment aroused through- out the poem, that " unhonor'd dead " are being praised, and, most of the time, at the expense of the more fortunate classes. While the " growing virtues " of this humble people, though repressed bv chill penury and born to blush unseen, are magnified into infinite possi- bilities; the haughty creatures oF luxury and pride are, by contrast, cred- ited with crimes unconfined, thrones reactied through slaughter, and quenched blushes of ingenuous shame. This building oneself up by pulling some one else down, is ever a pleas- ing sensation to the average person, and however ignoble the sentiment, it IS elegantly appealed to in this poem, and is really the foundation of much of its popularity. Yet, the surviving impression in the mind of the average reader is, that a class, hitherto neglected by those who burn incense kindled at the Muse's flame, are here paid a beautiful tribute by one who represents himself as preferring to relate their artless tale, rather than to further "heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride." PRELIMINARY SURVEY. Let the reader now pass through the entire structure, gathering a com- plete view of it as a whole, leaving the careful examination of its parts to another more deliberate excursion. The Introduction. — The first four stanzas, in which the time and place of the meditations are set forth, form an appropriate introduction to the coming discussion, the theme of which is stated in the last line of the 4th stanza. Theif Lives Described. — The daily routine of the rude forefathers is graphically pictured in the next three stanzas (5-7). The 5th, a lovely m)rning scene; the 6th, a touching evening picture; the 7th, their out- door pursuits. The Record of their Lives worthy of Attention.— \n the 8th and 9th stan- zas, the poet claims that these humble lives should receive the respectful consideration of the ambitious and the proud on the singular grounds that all " Await alike the inevitable hour ; 14 ^^^/-f ^^^^y- a plea which, perhaps, is more common than forcible ; and made here with more of beauty than of logic. ^ ^; • . 7h ir Names laorthy of Remembrance, though Memory has tmsed no Trophies oZil irrZls.^^^^^ next ten stanzas (10-19) is a popular eulogy upon ml a defence of, their lives, against any lack of appreciation w ch n" .in result from the absence of those monumental memorials which usually mark the tombs of honored dead. Yet even These are the Recipients of Memorial honors --\\^v^x^?,X\.^x^ .hown that the absence of " storied urn," or '• animated bust, ^ "ot to 1 e in erpreted to their discredit, in the next four stanzas he calls atten- ion to the fkct that some of these poor people are moved with ins inc s cZmo.1 to all mankind, and have also memorials, though frail, erected to their names. . , , ■ Grav Describes Himself.— 1\^Q common interpretation of the rest ot ttie no?m is thlforay, dropping the consideration of these humble people, rxioJesay sets forth his Swn 'appearance and character, as the one " Who, mindful of th' unhonor'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate. In the 26th and 27th stanzas he describes his life; in the 28th and 29th, his death and burial ; in the next three, his epitaph. There are those who maintain that this interpretation is entirely wrong nnd ih^t the e lines refer to the <' unlettered muse,'' mentioned in e -"i stanza In support of this opinion, it is urged that the unity of the poem i^ be'utifuUy'iLintained in'thus selecting the o'^^X ^^f-^y.^jf^, ^ ler of the hamlet as the object of description and an epitaph, ^^hilc ttie u'litv isutterly destroyed if we suppose Gray to ^"^denly cease hsatten. tions to his rude proteges, in order to thrust himself into consKleration anrso as t werJ, receiv; upon himself the stream of sympathies which he had aiVused b^ means of^hese poor people. The reasonableness of this view is left to the reader. Note to Teacher. -l.^i the class, as one 1^^^°'^' "^^^^^^J "^ -/he'v liminary survey " and bring it in, in outline, for a special recitation i hey shouTl.^of course, have no^eferenco to this text, as it is intended as a special help to the teacher. THE POEM. 1. The curfew tolls the knell of 'parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea; The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the worl 1 to darkness and to me. PiCTURFS —Poetry ismos^ poetical when it pictures vividly. The Elegy is remarkable for this. Every stanza, is a word painting. Let 'he students point nut what they see in each one. U permuted, many of them will draw, on the slate, or paper, or blackboard, illustrations of the diHer- The Poem. 15 ent stanzas. Attempts by the pupils to form tableaux from the poem will develop its imagery, and supply material for a beautiful evening pay en- tertainment. To encourage the pupils in these efforts, let them understand that the best artistic skill has been devoted to illustrating the Elegy. Curfew : — (Written also curfcu, and couvi'e-feu, the latter being the French for cover the fire.) A signal, usually by telling a bell, to warn in- habitants to extinguish their fires and lights, and to retire to rest. This wis a common practice throughout England during the Middle Ages. It is commonly said to have been introduced into England by William L, the Norman conqueror, who ordained it under severepenalties. He prob- ably, however, only enforced an existing and very common police regu- lation to that effect. It was ostensibly a precaution against conflagrations, which were frequent and destructive at that period, when it was the cus- tom to place the fire in a hole in the middle ot the floor, under an opening in the roof through which the smoke escaped, the houses being chiefly composed of wood and straw. But it was quite as likely that it was to prevent nocturnal brawls, and secret assemblies for planning schemes of rebellion against a tyrannical ruler. The severity with which William enforced it seems to indicate this. The absolute prohibition of lights was abolished by Henry I., iioo. But the practice of tolling a bell at a fixed hour in the evening still prevails in many parts of England and Scot- land. The common hour was seven, but it has gradually advanced to eight and nine o'clock. In Scotland ten was not an unusual hour. Its original significance is now, of course, entirely lost, and it serves rather the pur- pose of a town clock. The practice has lately been revived in its original force in Ireland, as a measure of the British Government to prevent noc- turnal risings. This revival at this time, for such a purpose, shows its real original import. Knell : — The slow notes of a funeral bell. How prettily applied to the dying (^7iy. 'Parting :—i. e.. Departing. Lea: — A meadow, field. An old English word, spelled variously, lay, ley, leigh, etc.;^^ Zoyham, Hor/1/. .-Better parse as the object of ''^oWs," because more p^^^^^^^^^ It permits of the inverted order of the words, and implies that "stillness, as a person, presides over the air. . . , , Sa,e .-For except. A verb originally, but a preposition here show- ingthe relation between the two lines "where the beetle-fold. ana " holds." Except is also a verb used as a preposition. iy/,e^e.— An interrogative adverb, modifying "wheels." Beetle —The May-bug, door-beetle or cockchafer which A'^s about on summer evenings. It grub remains in the ground three years before coming to its complete statt, during which time it is so voracious that it does great injury to the roots of grass and trees. • ,, r , Dronlna —A drone is a bee that does not work ; hence, a |a^y. 'f '^ f" low a shicgard; a sluggish fellow, hence, a sluggish monotonous, hun- rng sou^f L^ngfelfow speaks of the "monstrous drone of the wheel The Scotch call the largest tube of the bagpipe the drone. Thus dron ing flight" is a humming or buzzing flight. „ , ,1, /?roL/ .-Another very sug.^estive epithet ; adding effectually to the sense of quiet which the poet is throwing over the scene. ^ ^ , TmMnas .—Of the sheep-bells ; the oldest ram (bell-wether) of a flock hasabeTstrappedabouthis neck, the sound of which keeps the flock together. , , . , , /?/sfa/7f .— Who has not experienced every feature of this lovely even- ing scene, when, in the subdued quiet, the only sounds are those of low- ing herds, distant folds, droning insects, etc. The PiCTURE.-Let the pupils carefully pick out the objects and conditions added to the picture by this stanza. "\ \ The Poem. 17 3. Save that from yonder ivy-mantl'd tow'r. The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wand'ring near her secret bow'r, Molest her ancient, solitary reign. The Picture. — ^The ivy-mantled tower, withits owl hooting to the mo in, are added features to the peaceful evening scene, which was begun in the first stanza and which is completed in the fourth. Save: — As in the second stanza, a preposition, meaning fxcf//, and hav- ing for its object all the rest of the stanza. The complaining of the mop- ing owl, with the tinklings ot the distant folds and the droning flight of the beetle, are the exceptions to the statement that "all the air a solemn stillness holds." That: — Introductory conjunction. Ivy-mantl'd : — A beautiful epithet, meaning that the tower is covered with ivy as with a mantle or cloak. Moping Owl : — A \ery suitable epithet for the owl, which sits through the day as if dull or out of spirits, waiting for the dusk or night. Since its eyes are so constructed that it can see better at dusk than in full day- light, it chooser dark places to live in. Its solemn, moping appearance makes it the type of disgruntled wiseacres. To the moon complain : — The imagination of the poet easily interprets the hootings of the owl as complaints addressed to the moon, the queen of the night, prettily assigning as grounds of complaint the passers-by who disturb her, and perhaps frighten away the mice on which she feeds. ^s .■ — Is here a relative pronoun, having for its antecedent " persons " understood, after "such," and being the subject of " molest." Her: — Antecedent "owl." Reign : — Here used in the sense of realm or kingdom, not of rule. 4. Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, "Where heave's the turf in many a mould'ring heap. Each in his narrow cell forever laid. The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The Picture. — In this stanza is completed the beautiful, natural scene which forms the introduction to the subject proper of the poem. The objrcts which strike the eye, though faintly, are the departing day, the lowing herd, the lea, the plowman, the poet, the fading landscq.pe, the distant folds, the ivy-mantled tower of the venerable church, the moon lighting up the churchyard and its rugged elms, yew-tree, mouldering heaps, and their humble head-stones. The objects which strike the ear are the curfew's toll, the lowing of the herd, the droning of the beetle, the drowsy tinklings, the complaining of the owl — sounds which gently /intensify the quietness of the scene. Beneath: — Shows the relation of "elms" and "shade" to "sleep." \ f jg Gray's Elegy. ^ / o . Note how the word " those" seats us beside the porw^Tf-tati^nsTporthe beautiful surroundings we ,u.etly '^'''''* A .v.mreen tree (Taxus baccata), allied to the pines, val- Yew-iree .—An evergreen ^^"^^ , ^^,^ i^ British graveyards, uedforitswoodortmbe . ^^^^^^^ never has an ascend- The American yew is a low, straggnn^ "^:A„ .^ forty feet high, with a 7ng trunk, while the British yew-tree is th.rty to for y fe^e^^ ^ g^ . ^^^^^^_ trfnk of great thickness, which ^ ^n^^^^^^ ^^J, ^, least 200 to 400 forming a large, dense shade. 1\ ^"ains^ ^ery early time for making years. Its wood has been ""^'^^/^^^^^ ^r kind of wood. It is very bows for which it IS preferred to any oth^r Kin The heart- Sand reckoned almost ^;|-i^,°^^^°rcl/ The%ruit k red, and was wood is of an orange-red . \^^'^ ^'^^.V^lZr^ot so ; the seed, however, long reputed poisonous, :^J^^^-j;;P7,P^;',;\rful narcotic. heaps ! r r .\. ^^ £ach —That is, each of the " forefathers. as in Oak/iflw, Bucking/;r7^/, etc.; lei is a cuminuu word mean literally IMe home. Forefathers .-In this word is contained the -^pect of the poeni, ^^^ which has added more to its popularity than all its literary 5. The breezy call ^^ ^^^^^^^-Y^^'^"^^^ ,f,°:^.^^nt sHed, The swallows, twittering from the straw mi The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing bom No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. I..KO.UcxoKV.-Nowbeginsad..ipUc.oftheJivy^ft^ people, which is completed in this and ^^^ tT^oloHow !, .^ wonder- ^upils'look for every feature «^^-- ^^^^^ ^^ full because of what it ful how full and yet brief is the picture. It lu , suceests ; it is brief, because suggestive. _ aLz, ™,/.-The fir. i™pre«ion.oMhe moving up<,„as,^^^^^^ son are prettily interpreted as a call, ana tne n " breezy " call. _ ;;?ei§:^:e«rnti°'Sm::rr^ri.w«<. i. 64., s.,. ..s«ee^ is the breath of morn." TJie Point, 19 ^o/./j .'—Some of tlie most beautiful passages in the language are those descriptive of morning, and in most of these it is personified. The most celebrateJ of morning hymns is the one written by Bishop Thomas Ken (1637-1711), beginning: " Awake, my soul, and with thesun," one stanaa of which is the familiar long meter doxology, '* Praise 'God from whom all blessings flow," etc. Clarion: — A kind of trumpet which gives a shriller and clearer sound than the common one. It is here used metaphorically for the crowing of the cock. Horn: — Probably some hunter's horn. Rouse: — Point out the four subjects (call, swallow, clarion, horn) of this verb. Bed: — This, of course, refers to the bed in which the fathers slept dur- ing life, not to their graves. The words "'no more," in the fourth line, settle it. The brg«zy call, swallows, etc., had never ^f/i?/-^ roused them from their graves, and, hence, " no more shall rouse " would be inappro- oriate. It would seem unnecessary to make this, and many similar expla- nations, but my experience, as a teacher, has revealed the fact that even teachers of considerable standing will be found to argue, that "bed" does refer to the "narrow cell" mentioned in the fourth stanza, as well as for other equally erroneous views, the correction of which rcquiresonly one intelligent reading. In such passages as these, where incorrect interpretations are possible, let the teacher carefully withhold his own opinion and encourage pupils of different opinions to defend their interpretatious by conclusions drawn from the text. After reasonable discussion, take a vote of the class a„ to which is right. Assure them that there is but one possible view. If pos- sible, let the correct reading be reached by independent investigation and discussion of the class. It will be well, oftentimes, for the teacher to withhold his decision until the next recitation, so that the pupils may have further time to consider. These discussions and disputed interpretations are the most important features of the reading class. In them will be aroused a spirit of curious investiga ion, close interpretation and keen, original appreciation, which are the only possible foundations of a genuine literary taste. €. Por them no more the blazing hearth shall burn. Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return. Or climb his knees the envi'd kiss to share. Introductory. — The beautiful morning scene pictured in the preced- ing stanza is followed now with an evening home scene. Seethe cheer- ful fire, the busy mother, with her children, expecting the father ; his re- turn from the day's labors, the clamorous welcome, his complete appro- 20 Gray's Elegy. priation by the children while the supper is being placed upon the table or the mother plies the spinning wheel. For: — Shows the relation between "them" and *' burn" and •'ply/ Them: — The rude forefathers. Housewife: — How words originate is illustrated in the following evolu- tion of " hussey " from " housewife," given by Morris. Housewife was sometimes written "huswife," and then contracted into " hussif," mean- ing a case for needles and thread ; and "hussy," or "huzzy," a wench woman, now used in an uncomplimentary sense, though originally not so. Evening care : — What is referred to here is disputed. Some say needle- work, others spinning, others some evening occupation. Swinton quotes Hales as remarking that "this isprobably the kind of phrase that caused Wordsworth to- pronounce the language of the Elegy unintelligible." Swinton also says: "Wordsworth, in the following direct manner, con- veys the thought which Gray thus veils : " ' And sbe I cherished turned her vih'd Beside an Englisti fire.' " Run to lisp : — At this point it will be well to call attention to Burns' celebrated poem, Cot/er''s Saturday Night, which very plainly shows the influence of Gray's Elecy. Let the teacher read it, or a ])ortion of it at a time, in connection with the Elegy. I quote the third stanza in full, which the teacher may, with his pupils, compare and contrast with the home scene of the Elegy ; " At length his lowly cot appears in view, Beneath the shelier of an aserl tree; Th' expectant wee things, toiirtlin", stacher through To meet their dart, wi' flichterin' noise and giee. His wee bit iuiile, blinking boimily. His clean hearthsiane, his ihriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary kiaiiffh and pare beguile, And makes him quite forget his labor and his toil," {Wee, little; stacher, stagger; toddliti' , walking with short steps ; y?/f.4 tering, fluttering; ingle, lire-place; kiaiigh, anxiety.) Sire : — Is a French word for knight or lord. It commonly means father, but is often used as a title of respect, especially in addressing a king. Sir is an abbreviation of sire. To liSD — io share : — Are two infinitives, having the construction of ad- verbs, limiting "run" and " climb," respectively. 7. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke. iNTRonucTORY, — Here are set forth various outdoor occupations of the rude forefathers. Let the pupils determine how many. Let the pupils translate each line into their own language. The Poein. 21 To: — Shows relation between "sickle" and "yield." Furrow : — Used metaphorically for plow ; it is the subject of "broke." Stubborn: — Is treated very interestingly by Morris, as follows: Hard to be turned up with a plough. A stub is a short, thick stock of a tree or other plant, left when the rest is cut off, and is the same word as stump. Stubble is derived from this word, the /e being what is called a frequenta- tive termination, and denoting that a great many siubs are met with in the stubble. Stubborn means like a stub, /. g., stiff, unbending, obstinate. Glebe: — Ground; subject of "broke." How, etc.: — Note the change of sentence; the first two declarative, the second two exclamatory; thus giving liveliness to the stanza. Jocund: — An adjective used for an adverb by a common poetical license. Here show what " license" in the use of language means. It is the vio- lation of ordinary usage to meet the demands of verse or circumstances. Here Jocundly would have ruined the meter of the line, hence the poet dared to be guilty of a bad usage, knowing that any intelligent critic would comprehend the necessities of the case, and so not condemn. Afield: — Is an adverb, composed of the old English prefix a, meaning/)?, at or on, as seen in abed, r.Doard, 7J &" Slevens. Fretted vault— f^r^ arched roof (vault), ornamented with fret-work, that Is with bands or fillets crossing each other in diflerent patterns. ;inf/»e/n.— Asongof praise, alluding to the music which from voice and organ usually aids in the funeral ceremonies. 11. Can storied urn, or ajaimated bust. Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dusi , Or Flatt'ry soothe the dull, cold ear of death ? INTRODUCTORY.-This Stanza is another "defence " of ^^e 'rude ''fore- fathers" against the "faults" "imputed" to them in the preceding sunza (just as was the ninth a reply to' the eighth), the general charge be- ing, that no honors attended their burial. Storied urn .—In this first line two ancient methods of honoring their defd are mentioned : the urn and the l>ust Among the Grecians and Ro- mans it was custonary to burn their dead, and preserve their ashes in beautifuUy sculptured urns, on the outside of which was, oftenumes wrought in pictures and verse, the story of the life of the person whose ashes they contained, hence the "stoned urn." . This custom may be revived in modern times, as cremation (burning the dead) is growing in favor. >1«//77aferf 6usr— The sculptured bust is as familiar to these times as it was to ancients. Animated, that is, lifelike. As one feature of a public entertainment, once given by my high school pupils, they prepared their own original tableaux of scenes in this poem AU of them were serious, excepting one, which was prepared by the wit of the clacs. He presented himself to the audience in very dilapidated apparel, fondly caressing a lamp-post, which was evidently necessary to his maintaining an equi.ibrium. This was Ms version of an animated bust." The Poem. 25 To: — Shows the relation between " mansion " and "call." Mansion: — That is, the body, which is the abode of the soul. Ca// : — Agrees with its subjects "urn" and "bust." Fleeting: — That is, departing. Breaili : — The soul. Paraphrase. — Let the pupils change into their own words this sen- tence, filling out the argument of the poet. They will produce something as follows: " Can the fact that you superior people have storied urns and elegant sculptures to mark your death, add one moment to your life ? In spite of these advantages, must you not die just as these common people ? " The Interrogative Form; — Note the superior force of the question over a declaration. Let the pupils change to declarative. As with this, so with the next and many tollSowing sentences. Provoke: — Used here in its primitive meaning. Fro, forth, and voco, I call ; hence, call Jorth. K Silent dust : — The dead body,; or its ashes in the urn. Paraphrases. — Can all the honors which those in high life receive, raise them from the dead ? Hence, what great advantage do they afford which the humbler poor do not possess when they die ? Or death : — This line needs no comment, except to note its beauty. Conclusion. — The poet evidently makes litle progress in the defence, as he practically repeats, though in delightful variety of phrase, the point made in the ninth stanza. Yet this is a beautiful quatrain. Not one word of it would we surrender. Call attention to the classical air given to the stanza by th» allusion to the ancient urn, also to the beautiful drapery which the poet has thrown around the commonplace references to death. Encourage them to utilize these allusions and images in their conversa- tion and compositions. To be able to use in other connections this "storied urn," and " animated bust," "fleeting breath," or "dull, cold ear,';' would imply culture which all intelligent persons would promptly recognize and respect. 12. Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid / Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; ( Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd / Or wak'd to ecstasy the living lyre. Introductory. — Having made a species of defence or vindication of the 'I rude forefathers " as to what they were compared with more fortun- ate (tla'^ses, the poet mw begins an ingenious line of vindication by sugg(piing what they might have been, if Le/t the pupils discover that this argument closes with Stanza 19. Let the jlupils also discuss before and after the reading of this argument, whetlher " circumstances make the man, or man the circumstances." So 26 Gray's Elegy. help to determine the validity and force of this argument in behalf ot the rude forefathers. Neglected spot: — The church-yard. Stoke Pogis, the reputed scene of the poem, in which the poet is supposed 10 be while writing. It is said, though, that it was really written at Grantchester, a little parish near Cambridge. Celestial fire: — The gift of poetry, which was supposed to be sent from heaven to the gods; or it may mean talent generally. In the old mythology, Prometheus is said to have made the figure of man with clay, and to have animated it with fire, which, with the assistance of Minerva, he brought down from heaven. As a punishment for this, Jupiter chained him to Mount Caucasus, with a vulture perpetually gnawi.ig at his liver. — Morrts b' Stevens. Hence, any remarkable gift of genius possessed by a man is frequently spoken of as a "divine gift," " heavenl}- inspiration," "celestial fire." Paraphrase of first two lines. — Perhaps there are buried in this unknown church-yard persons who mi^ht have been poets or some other kind of genius. Hands: — Subject of "is laid." Rod of empire: — The sceptre of a king. Sway'd : — The apostrophe indicates the elision of "e," or the consoli- dation of the word into one syllable, to make one foot. It is understood in poetry, that whenever the syllable " ed " is written in full, it must be pronounced separately to make a foot. So if " sway'd " had been written swayed, the correct reader would pronounce it sway-ed. The same remarks app y to "wak'd," in last line. The subject of "sway'd" is "that" referring to hands. Wak'd: — Subject ''that," in third line, referring to hands. Living lyre: — Morris & Stevens make ihe following\ comment here: "Any musical instrument of the nature of a harp. By\living lyre is probably meant one which j;ives forth peculiarly szveet sounds uhuicr the hands of a skillful perjorjiier." The italicized portion we dissent frcnn. It more probably refers to the human heart whtn moved by the imipassioned eloquence of an orator. \ • Paraphrase of last two lines. — Or (perhaps there are buriec^ in this unknown spot) persons who might have been powerful rulers or popular orators, or, according to Morris & Stevens, talented musicians. , Conclusion. — Thus having suggested what these people might have been, we must look to thenext stanza for the "if." 13. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, | Kich with the spoils of Time did ne'er unroll ; ' Chill penury repressed their noble rage. And froze the genial current of the soul. Introductory. — In this stanza are presented the reasons why t'hese people were not something grand, as indicated in the prece iing stan The Poem. 27 Knowledge : — Personified, and so capitalized. Ample : — That is, including a vast number of subjects. Page: — Object of " unro//." Spoils: — As spoils are taken from an enemy in war, so are the various kinds of knowledge wrested in the course of time from our common enemy. Ignorance. Unroll: — Refers to the fact that books, at first, were in rolls, instead of in sheets, as now. " Volume'^ has the same meaning, as it is from the Latin, vohere, to roll. '■'■UtirolV^ agrees wiih its subject, ^'■knowledge.'''' Paraphrase of lines i and 2. — But they had no school privileges. Penury : — Personified. Repressed their noble rage: — Poverty crushed out their noble desires. Rage: — Ambition, enthusiasm, grand purpose, or desire. Froze : — Metaphor. Paraphrase of 30 and 4TH lines. — Poverty prevented the carry- ing out of their lofty ambitions, and chilled and checked the flow of their activities, as frost stays the current of a stream by freezing it. Conclusion. — Let the class now g've, in their own language, the sub- stance of this and the preceding stanza. Are lack of educational privi- leges and poverty insuperable obstacles to success? Is the argument good ? H. Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flow'r is born to blush unseen. And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Many a: — The expression many a is an abbreviation for many of. Orig- inally it would have stood many of gems ; wawj/ being a noun. (Shake- speare so uses it. "A many of our bodies." Henry V , 5, 8. '' O, thou fond many.^^ Second part of Henry IV., i, 3. " In niany^s looks." Sonnets. Latimer, in a sermon, says, " A manye of us were called to- gether.") This expression became shortened into many d" gems, just as we- say What's o'clock, for What of the clock? In course of time this o'' came to be written a, as it was pronounced; and at last, the origin of the a being forgotten, people thought it incorrect to say many a gems, and consequently said many a gem^ — Morris &" Stevens. In parsing, many a may be parsed as one word and an adjective limiting gem, which 's singular used for plural. Or many may be parsed as a noun, a as a preposition, meaning t;/, governing j^i-w, used for gems, in the objective. Of purest ray : — Perfectlv clear in color. Serene:- Look at Webster, and see that c/ear\s the first meaning of ji?r,?K^. Calm, unrujfled, undis- turbed, are second and derived meanings. Bear: — Contain, or possess, or produce. Many a flower : — See many a above. 28 Gray's Elegy. Desert: — Deserted, lonely; not of a desert. Paraphrase. — As many brilliant gems are never discovered, and many beautiful flowers bloom where they never are seen, so among these rude people may have been many persons of brilliant parts who needed only to be discovered to have made a great figure in the world. Conclusion. — Still a defence of the people. Is it good logic? Is this latent genius theory a sound one ? 15. Some Village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstocd ; Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest. Same Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Introductory. — Still the poet urges that these rude people buried here might have been Hampdens, or Miltons, or Cromwells, had not their " lot forbade." Hampden: — John Hampden (1594-1647) was a cousin of Cromwell, a leader against Charles I. in the civil war. He was not beheaded by the king, as is frequently said, but was slain in the battle of Chalgrove Field, Oxfordshire, Eng., fighting against his king. " Village-Hampden " is the subject of " rest." That: — Subject of " withstood." The little tyrant of his fields: — In the same manner in which John Hampden withstood the cruel oppression of the tyrant, Charles I., so may some one of these humble persons have resisted, with dauntless breast, the exactions of his richer or more powerful neighbor, and so deserved the title, " Village Hampden." Mute: — That is, dumb ; unable to speak or write poetry as did Milton — not because he was not a poet, but because he was not cultivated — his " lot forbade; " he was "born to blush unseen," etc. Inglorious: — Not disgraceful or infamous, but simply lacking glory and fame. Milton: — John Milton (1608-1674), the greatest of epic poets, the author of "Paradise Lost," "Paradise Regained," "L' Allegro," "II Penseroso," "Comus," etc., was born and died in London. "Milton" is the subject of " rest." Cromwell: — Oliver Cromwell (i 599-1658), a country gentleman, who became member of Parliament for Huntingdon, afterwards leader of the army against Charles I., after the execution of whom. Lord Protector of the Commonwealth (chief in authority) of England. "Cromwell" is tke subject of "rest." Guiltless: — The poet here, in implying that Cromwell was guilty, caters to royal opinion. English poets too frequently do this. Gray may be said in this instance to e urged that the personal element thus intro- duced into the pDem gives it a genuine flavor that it must otherwise have The Poem. 37 lacked, and which has really maintained its popularity. That a person of Gray's talents and celebrity should yield himself to the public in a charac- ter of such loneliness and melancholy, and so practically make himself one of this humble people ; and that he should prepare for himself an epitaph of such modest and yet touching simplicity; — all this, accompanied with the plaintive evidence of the sincerity in these u'-terances which his pecu- liar life and habits afforded, gives^ tp_thejdiolej)oeni that color of sadness which, Poe maintained, appeaTs to the pxofaujidest sentiment of the hu- man heart and affords the surest and most enduring claim upon its sym- pathies. Note to the Teacher. — These two interpretations should afford an occasion for a very profitable debate in the class. In their efforts to main- tain their views, the pupils will give the poem a searching investigation which nothing else could arouse, and, at the same time, will give them- selves practice in the original expression of their thoughts, which is the more valuable because spontaneous, and in the heat of conflicting opin- ions. In the management of this discussion, the teacher should enforce all the forms of parliamentary usage, and strive to array the class on sides chosen without bias of any sort from himself. Nothing so greatly forestalls and prevents all original thinking and talk- ing, on the part of the pupils, as the teacher habitually deciding all such questions dogmatically, before independent judgment and expres- sion is indulged in by the pupils. The teacher should always reserve his decisions until a majority of his class have studied, and thought, and talked themselves to the right conclusions. Who .-—Subject of " dost." Mindful : — Try to substitute another word. Unhonor'd : — Not dishonored. These lines : — That is, this poem. Artless : — The force of this word is really upon " relate" rather than upon "tale." In other words, the poet speaks of his own poem as an "artless" unstudied, unpretentious effort. It took him seven years to make it so. V 'Chance : — For perchance, an elision for metricaUeffect, as in " 'part- ing,'' I, I. It modifies " inquire." "* Contemplation : — How pretty the personification indicated by the capi- tal. l-ed : — Has the construction of an adjective, limiting "spirit." The alliteraiion of "lonely" and "led" is pleasing. Kindred Spirit : — That is, some person who has habits similar to those here ascribed by the poet to himself and actually exemplified while in the grave-yard, indulging in the reflections which go to make up this poem. Paraphrase.— If some kindred spirit, led by lonely contemplation, shall chance to inquire concerning the fate of thee who hast remembered 38 Grafs Elegy. these humble people hy writing this unostentatious story about them, possibly some hoary-headed swain may say for thee : This includes, of course, the tirst line of the next stanza. 95. Haply, some hoary-headed swain may say : " Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn. Brushing, with hasty steps, the dews awray. To meet the Sun upon the upland lawn. Introductory. — With the second line of this stanza begins the descrip- tion by Gray of himself, as uttered by the hoary-headed swain. It con- tinues to the epitaph, concluding with the 29th stanza. Haply: — Perhaps, limits "say." Hoary-headed : — Gray-headed. Hoar frost is white frost, hence a head white with age is frosted or hoary. Swain: — An old English word for countryman We : — The people who live in the vicinity of the grave-yard, of whom the speaker is one. Him : — The poet. Objective, subject of " [to be] brushing." Peep of Dawn : — How pretty for the break of day ! Brushing : — This is the strong word of the line. Infinitive, object of " seen." To meet the Sun : — To see him rise. "To meet " has the construction of an adverb, limiting "[to be] brushing." Upland : — Sloping. Lawn : — The old meaning was meadow, but now, a grassy plot in front of a house. Conclusion. — Thehabit of taking early morning walks was one of Gray's peculiarities. Suppressed Stanza. Fallowing Stanza 25. e. " Hiin have we seen the greenwood side alonar, "While o'er the heath we had our labor done. Oft as the woodlark piped herfarewell song. With wistful eyes pursue the setting Sun. Introduction — In the first MS. this verse followed the 25th stanza, which it balances beautifully. In that, the poet meets the Sun at the peep of dawn ; in this, he pursues the setting Sun; in that, brushing the dews away; in this, while o'er the heath we had our labor done, and as the woodlark piped her farewell song ; in that, upon the upland lawn ; in this, the greenwood side along. Thus, all the points of the morning walk in the 25th are exactly compli- mented by corresponding points of the evening walk in this stanza, except that two features of the evening are given here while only one is there. The Poem. 39 This is due to the lack of a line in the 25th, or an extra line in this, the 2d line affording the extra item. This line was also probably the cause of the stanza being thrown out. It would seem as if the stanza should have followed the 26th, rather than the 25th, as by that arrangement the morning, noon and evening scenes would have appeared in order. The 27th is probably intended as the evening walk, and would seem to be a substitute for this. It includes, at any rate, the neighborhood of the "greenwood side." The repetition of this feature here may also have led to its sacrifice there. What rhetorical courage the poet exhibited in thus consigning to obliv- ion these beautiful lines, rather than mar, in the least, the symmetry of the poem ! Him : — Objective, subject " [to] pursue." Greenwood : — Object of along. Whi/e * * done : — This probably means " When we were coming over the heath after our day's labor had been finished," or "after we had done our day's work over, or beyond, the heath." This ambiguity was doubtless the objection to the line. Oft: — That is, every evening. It limits "seen" and "piped," as a conj unctive adverb. I/Vith : — Shows relation of " eyes" to " pursue." Pursue: — "[To] pursue," infinitive, with construction of noun, object of " seen." Conclusion. — The teacher may well give sufficient time to these suppress- ed stanzas. They are "behind the scene" affairs, which are always inter- esting — especially as connected with any of our popular poems. They also indicate by what scrupulous rigor of rhetorical pruning immortality is secured to literary effort. 26. " There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech. That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high. His listless length at noontide would he stretch. And pore upon the brook that babbles by— Introductory. — Even at noon-time would he loiter solitarily in the wood. There: — Limits " stretch " and "pore." ^t : — Shows relation between "foot" and "stretch." Nodding .-—Waving. Wreathes .-—How much better than twists. Fantastic : — Strange, curious. Every lover of the woods has repeatedly re ilized the beauty of this description of the beech, and quoted it with never-ceasing satisfaction. Listless : — Not listening, hence, inattentive, idle. 40 Grays Elegy. Pore .'—To look closely. Babbles : — This word exemplifies the figure o^ onomatofaa — the use of a word (or words) the sound of which is Hkc the sound described. Bang, bleat, flash, murmur, rumble, smash, are a few of the many familiar ono- matopoeic words in the English. Conclusion. — The author here again describes his own habits. at. " Hard by yon wood, now smiling, as in scorn, Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now drooping, woful-wan, like one forlorn. Or craz'd with care, or cross'd in hopeless love. Introductory. — This stanza is of the evening, as the two preceding are, respectively, of the morning and noon. See suppressed stanza ^. The stanza is remarkable for the words which describe the varying moods of the poet. Let the pupils pick them out. Hard : — Close, limits " by yon wood." Smiling, mutt'ring, drooping, woful-wan, craz'd, cross'd :—A\\ limit ' he," 1. 2. He would : — Not "would he," because it would be repeating the inver- sion of 26, 3. Woful-wan : — Thus the poet wrote it. In many texts it is printed as two simple words, but in none with a comma between. The poet intended it as a compound adjective, which is pretty as well as peculiar. To make two words, especially with a comma between, would be comparatively common place. Craz'd, care, cross'd : — Note the alliteration. Conclusion. — The description of the wandering habits of the poet is complete with this stanza. SH. " One morn I miss'd him on the 'eustom'd hill. Along the heath, and near his favorite tree : Another came ; nor yet beside the rill. Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he. Introductory. — Note how rapidly, yet gracefully, the narrative pro- ceeds. Morn : — Object of [upon]. Upon a certain morning. ' Custom' d : — For accustomed. See " 'parting," i, I. /////.—Where in the preceding stanza did he mention "hill;" so "heath," "tree," "lawn" and 'wood." Another: — Another [morn] came. Nor : — For " and not ; " thus, '• and yet he was f>o^ beside the rill." Conclusion. — The secluded life of the poet is here forcibly indicated. How he died, or where, the "swain" could not tell. All he knew was the favorite spots were not haunted bytheir accustomed visitor. TJie Poem. 41 29. " The next, with dirges due, in sad array, Slow through the church-way path wt saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, 'G-rav'd on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." Introductory. — Let the pupils note how much of incident and detail of description is compressed in these lour lines. The funeral scene in the first two, and the grave-yard scene in the last two, would fill two elabo- rate canvases of an artist. The next: — The next morning. Dirges : — A dirge is a funeral song. Due: — Appropriate; that is, to the person and occasion. Slow: — An adjective, used by poetical license for the adverb slowly. It would not be allowable in prose. Him: — Objective, subject of "[to be] borne." T/iOU : — Antecedent is '-kindred spirit," 24, 4. In reading, emphasize so as to imply that the hoary-headed swain could not read. Lay : — The epitaph which follows. 'Grav'd: — For engraved. See "'parting," i, i. Stone : — Head-stone. Thorn: — Probably a hawthorn. It may be a holly tree. One still grows at the foot of Gray's grave, a leaf from which, enclosed in a beau- tifully illustrated volume of the Elegy, was presented to the author a few >ears ago, by a former pupil, with the f.jllowing inscription : " Eng- lish holly leaf (Christmas green) taken from a shrub growing at the f6ot of Gray's grave, near the "ivy-mantled" church, at Stoke Pogis, not far from Windsor, and in sight of Eaton's classic walls and turrets. July 17, 1883" The leaf of the holly is spined, and the shrub could be properly spoken of as a thorn. Conclusion. — This stanza completes the remarks of the hoary-headed swain to the kindred spirit begun 25, 2, all of which is the object of "say," 25, I. These sad incidents in the life of one devoted to this humble people form a most appropriate closing to this account of their lives. Would it be more touching, could we but feel that stanzas 24-32 were dedicated to the " unlettered muse," a particular individual of the general class upon whom the preceding stanzas were bestowed ? Suppressed Stanza. Fo {owing Stanza 29. /. There, scatter'd oft, the earliest of the year. By hands unseen, are showers of violets found; The red-breast loves to build and warble there. And little footsteps lightly print the ground. 42 Grays Elegy. Introductory. — Mason, the friend and biographer of Gray, says: "This beautiful stanza, which was printed in some of the first editions, was afterwards omitted by Gray, because he thought it was too long a paren- thesis in this place." May not some personal feelings have been mixed with these literary considerations? r/fere;— At the grave ; limits " are found." Scatter' d : — Limits "showers (of violets). " Earliest: — Limits "violets." By : — Shows relation between "hands" and "scattered." Unseen: — Adjective, limiting "hands." Conclusion. — These sweet lines should never become separated from the poem. 30. Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth, A youth to Fortune and to Tame unknown ; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Introductory. — This and the two following stanzas were separated by Gray from the preceding with the title " Epitaph;" which means an in- scription on a tomb, from the Greek e-i^i, upon, and rlegy in prose (selected from those wiitten by the class). 8. History of the poem, an original compo- sition, delivered without notes, by some member of the class. 9. Tab- leau of 6th stanza. 10. Eight 2-minute essays on the first eight stanzas. II. Tableau of the " Animated Bust," of thelith stanza. (A fixed-up lamp-post with an animated fellow on a "bust," holding it up affection- ately.) 12. Eight 2-minute essays on the next eight stanzas. 13. And so on. Let these exercises be interspersed with music, and the audience will not only go away pleased, but they will have reason to thank this class lor giving them an opportunity to review and enjoy thoroughly the most popular poem in the language. UNIVERSIT Y PUB LICATIONS. The Hew Method or School Expogitiong. FOR TEACHERS OF RURAL.VILLAGE, CITY, NORMAL AND COLLEGIATE SCHOOLS Showing How the Best Methods of Teaching will Result in the Best School Expositions, and how the Best School Expo- sitions will Suggest the Best Methods of Teaching. By R. HEBER HOLBROOK, Vice-President National Normal Univeesity, Lebanon, Ohio. C. K. HAMILTON & CO., UNIVERSITY PUBLISHERS. This is the first appearance of this work from these Publishers. It is a contri- bution to the New Education known as Independent Normalism. The work is composed of two parts. Tne first, the practical portion, is ^iven to School Expositions, embracing one hundred pages; tlie second, comprising a number of appendixes, is devoted t> the philosophical elucidation of the princi- ples embraced in the foregoing. This latter portion is, in one sense, the more valu- able part of the book, as it wiil five the stadent of teachiuar an insight into the spirit and principles of the Exposition Methods of the preceding po.tion. Thepurposeof this author is evidently, first, ti present a body of elementary educational truths in such a manner as to display a sys,im—s\, system that shall ap- pear in such clear oittliaesas to make it possible for any teache ■, young or old, to reaVy, aiequately and conscious'y comprehend it as a system, as a distinct and pe- culiar system. Next, he not only presents these truths as a system, but as a line of convincing procedure, which shall itseli carry such force of reason and evolution as will completely and satisfactorily give to the reader conscious grounds for the distinct faith which itattemptsto establish. It will be sufficient to call attention to the fact that one greit result of this sys- tem is to develop the three great phases of intellectual growth, and to expose the sad defects of existiusr methods in their failure to recognize and cultivate the pro- ducing powers of the Intel ect. In surveying the whole field of existing educational practice, the author is evidently impressed with the weakness of all school training in this special direc- tion ; he has, therefore, felt it a duty to give the practical or first portion of his work to detail description of methods which bear directly toward the correction of these great evils. These practical suggestions are -grouped in the first hundred pages, under the discussion of " School Expositio:. . Here we feel ourselves in the presence of a real, practical teacher, who gives his own practical work as a teacher. No one who studies this portion can tarn away from it as from mere figments of a heated im- agination, or "pretty theories " which may do in the millenium or in .'^ome other impracticable time or place. In every sentence there appears not what may be done, but what really las been done. Appendix D., on " Outlining," is worth many times the value of the book. It presents the Normal Method of Outlining, known as the Exponential Method, as invented by President Alfred Holbrook. This system is the delight and invalu- able instrument of thousands of Normalites, as it is the confusicn and mistilieation of many who canuot or will not comprehend if. Appendix E., " Is there a Science of Education? " is a masterly solution of this question which enti les the author to a recognition, which is freely accorded by those who know him best, as one of the most profound and philo- sophical educational thinkers of the day. This article, though somewhat metaphysical, is still worthy the study of every teacher. Much that cannot be mentioned in brief notice will prove the most valuable part of this excellent work to every practical teacher. UNIVERSI TY PUBL ICATIONS. Outlines of United States History, A Hand-Book of Ready Reference fur STUDENTS, GENERAL READER AND TEACHERS. By R. IIEBER HOLBROOIC, Vice-President National Nokjial University, Lebanon, Ohio. LEBANON, O., T. K. HAMILTON & CO. 1S8G. S»OSX-:c=.A.XX) TS CE!1;TXS. This is a new and revised edition of a very familiar work. It is recog- nized by teachers everywhere, who are acquainted with it, as one. of the most complete, systematical, thoroughly indexed, and cheapest works in U. S. History, published. It is especially valuable in that it presents the facts of our Nation's history in a compact arrangement which gives rela- tive and developmentary significance to each event. It is a complete out- line, by fie " Expotential Method," showing upon the part of the au- thor a profound and original mastery of tne progress and growth of our Nation. The first page presents in three great "Eras" and nine great '• Periods, " ananalysis of the who^e history, which is as complete and beautiful as it is original. We understand that this epitome is entirely original with the author, and is the result of many years of study and teaching of the subject. The ihorough adaptation of these steps in the erection of our great National structure, and the masterly allotment of time and events, as expressed by them, must awaken the unrestrained admiration of all stti- dcnts of our history who have tiie true method of investigation. This work is a practical contribution of a practical teacher to the pro- fessional material of his calling ; and has already obtained wide recogni- tion among his co-workers. A full elucidation of the "method " invol- ved in this work is not to be found in this volume, as it is evidently the purpose of the author to present rather an exemplification than an expli- cation of method. Teachers who desire a full presentation of the '' Longitudinal Method of History-Teaching" set forth here, as opposed to the "Transverse Method" exemplified in most text-books, will refer to the "Drill Lists in United States History," by the same author, and issued by the same firm,* one of the most original and valuable contributions to History- Teaching lately made public. We note many changes in matter and style which indicate great improvement upon, and valuable additions to, lor- mer editions of this work. No teacher of Unite 1 States History should fail to give this work care- ful attention. We recommend it most heartily. It is not designed to supplant other text-books, but is a companion book for the teacher to be used for suggestion and guidance in the teaching of the subject with any adopted text. * Drill Lists in U. S. History. Price 25 cts. (J. K. Hamiltou &l Co., Lebanon, O. .oJ.3Q ^