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Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/teachingofenglisOOthom EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION The present is beyond doubt a period of significant change in the field of secondary education. Under perfect conditions, gradual and continuous readjust- ment to the changing demands of a dynamic society should be characteristic of education at all times. In the past, however, perfect conditions have never obtained and in all probability the future will fail to provide them. The history of education shows clearly that the school does not promptly react to changes in social demands, that educational readjustment is seldom gradual, and that desirable changes in education, neglected for the time, gradually increase in number and importance until by the pressure of accumulated force they compel extensive and radical reorganization at irregular intervals. There is every evidence that the present is one of those periods when the accumulation of long-needed changes is compel- ling radical readjustment in the secondary school as well as in other departments of the system of educa- tion. Numerous factors have combined to require ex- tensive changes in the character of secondary educa- tion at the present time. During the past quarter- century the secondary school as a social institution viii INTRODUCTION has undergone a marked transformation necessitating important changes in its aims and functions, and, therefore, noteworthy changes in its organization and administration. The fact that in the two decades be- tween 1890 and 1910 the number of pupils in attend- ance at the public secondary schools of this country more than quadrupled is significant of much more than that a larger number of pupils must be accom- modated, or even that a larger proportion of the total population is receiving a high-school education. Such a development is also significant of the fact that large numbers of pupils have entered the secondary school whose different capacities, interests, and probable future activities demand differentiated forms of edu- cation never before provided, with far-reaching effects on the aims and functions of secondary education, the values and purposes of studies, and methods of teach- ing. . These changes in the character of the high-school population and in the social functions of secondary education have been accompanied by developments in the fields of educational psychology and educational sociology which have vitally affected the work of the school. Thus, in the field of educational psychology, among other influences may be mentioned the recog- nition of the importance of individual differences, the development of methods of quantitative measurement, and a reexamination of the laws of learning with spec- ial reference to theories of mental discipline. In the INTRODUCTION ix field of educational sociology, among other influences may be mentioned the reformulation of aims and func- tions and their restatement in terms of modern social theory, the social analysis of subject values, the rec- ognition of the importance of vocational training and educational guidance, attempts to reduce retarda- tion and elimination, and the endeavor to extend educational opportunity. Such changes as these demand, and at present bid fair to effect, extensive changes in the entire economy of the secondary school. Developments in the field of educational sociology necessitate an analysis and revision of the aims and functions of secondary edu- cation. Developments in the fields of educational sociology and educational psychology demand a re- examination and reinterpretation of the values and purposes of subjects of study and a redirection of methods of teaching them. When such important changes are imminent, there is imperative need of orientation and direction. The series of books on secondary education, of which this book is an important representative, finds its justi- fication in the recognition of current demands for the reorganization and redirection of the work of our secondary schools. The character of the series and of this book is thereby determined. The study of the English language and its literature occupies a unique position among the studies of the x INTRODUCTION secondary school — a position supported by univer- sal recognition of its importance for all pupils. No other subject can compare with it in the amount of attention afforded throughout the secondary-school course or in the extent to which it meets (or should meet) the needs of all pupils. Its economy, therefore, is of greater importance than that of any other sub- ject of study in the program. While all recognize the importance of the study of the mother tongue and its literature, and while few question the justification of its prominent position in the program of studies, opinions are by no means unanimous concerning the specific values and aims which should obtain in the teaching of English in the secondary school. There personal bias and personal opinion take the place of careful analysis and inter- pretation, with resulting lack of definite objective and with emphasis placed on this or that phase of the work according to the caprice or special interest of the teacher. English, no less than other subjects of study in the program of the secondary school, requires a careful analysis and interpretation of its special values and purposes. Such an analysis, however, with its consequent definition of specific values and purposes, can accom- plish little unless the implications of those values and purposes actually operate in the work of the school so as to affect vitally the organization of subject- matter and methods of teaching the subject. One of INTRODUCTION jri the constant dangers of educational practice, even where correct values and purposes are recognized in theory, is that the organization of subject-material and the character of the teaching method may not be so directed as to achieve the desired ends. Criti- cism at present directed against secondary education affects particularly assumed values and teaching methods. The teaching of English has not escaped such criticism and in many cases doubtless has de- served it. Only when the values and purposes of the study of English in the secondary school are properly conceived in terms of the aims and functions of sec- ondary education as a whole, only when the organ- ization of subject-matter and the character of the teaching are adapted to develop those values and achieve those purposes, can the study and teaching of the mother tongue and its literature become really effective. In this book the author presents a theory of the purposes of the study of English and an analysis of methods of teaching the subject, designed to achieve them. The purpose of Mr. Thomas in writing this book and the purpose of the editor in endorsing it as a part of this series, is to orientate and thereby im- prove the teaching of English in the secondary school. The author has first clearly and definitely outlined the values to be aimed at in the teaching of English and the purposes which should obtain. On this basis he has built up a theory of the organization of sub- xii INTRODUCTION ject-matter and a theory of teaching the subject, designed to develop those potential values so that they may actually achieve their intended purposes. To this task he brings an unusual knowledge of the educational theory involved and the results of long and successful experience in training young people through the study of English. In recommending the results of the author's labors to teachers of English and students of education the editor has in mind the importance of a conception which has guided Mr. Thomas in his work — that there is a vast difference between teaching English to pupils and training young people through the study of English. Alexanler Inglis PREFACE Keener and keener grows the inquiry into the whys and wherefores of current educational practice. The classics have already come under such severe scrutiny that the opponents have practically ban- ished Greek from the public high school. As we watch the modern trend we are actively wondering if Latin may not soon encounter a similar fate. In several communities the teachers of algebra and geometry have been suddenly placed on the defensive and coolly asked to justify their work. A general consensus of opinion still graciously allots a large amount of time to the study of high-school English, but the skeptical attitude of the scientific inquirer and the insistent questioning of the incredulous parent, as each exam- ines current practices in English teaching, has already suggested very direct investigation concerning the details of our work. Why not include more modern literature? Why teach Silas Marner to high-school freshmen? Why spend any time on formal grammar? Why devote so many lessons in the English class- room, drilling on certain principles that are habitu- ally ignored in practice in the history classroom? Why allot six weeks to the study of Treasure Island — a book that any normal boy would adequately digest in a day's diversion? Some of these questions are incidentally answered in the pages of this book, but there has been no at- xiv PREFACE tempt to anticipate sporadic inquiry or forestall criti- cism. There has been, on the other hand, a constant effort to seek fundamental principles that would aid us to justify or renounce any of our work that chances to be under momentary scrutiny — not so much the scrutiny of the unfriendly critic as that which we our- selves invite and direct. With the varying phases of the work brought into successive focus, what will the separate judgments be? And what old methods, as the results of these judgments, shall we discard, what new methods shall we introduce, and what shall be the various shifts of emphasis? We hope that the net result of this thinking has been constructive, and that there has been established a clearly defined theory of English teaching and de- partmental management applicable to the secondary school. The direct motive for putting this material into form was the invitation to offer to the students of the Har- vard Summer School a course in the teaching of Eng- lish. To the teachers who have taken this work during the past two years that it has been offered, the author is indebted for many ideas developed in conference and in class discussion. The major portion of the material is the accumulation of the author's study and experience through twenty years of school and college teaching. For direct help more recently fur- nished particular thanks are due Dr. Alexander Inglis, the editor of the division of secondary education in this series. C. S. T. CONTENTS I. Basic Aims and Values in the Teaching op English 1 II. Abticulation of Elementaby-School English with Secondary-School English ... 21 III. The Relation of Grammar to Composition and Literature 34 IV. Composition and its Essentials .... 47 V. Oral Composition 69 VI. Cooperation with other Departments . . 97 VII. General Principles governing the Choice of Literary Selections 112 VIII. The Teaching of Poetry, with Particular Attention to the Lyric 133 IX. The Teaching of Prose Fiction 167 X. The Teaching of the Drama, with Particu- lar Reference to Shakespeare . . . .198 XI. The Teaching of the Essay 224 XII. The Problem of Outside Reading . . . 238 xvi CONTENTS XIII. Supplementary Aids to the Teaching of English 254 1. The School Paper. 2. Debating. 3. Prize Speaking. 4. The City and School Libraries. 5. Pictures. 6. The English Club. XIV. Adjusting the High-School English Course to the Demands of the Commercial, Tech- nical, and Vocational Pupils . ' . . . . 271 XV. The Training of the English Teacher . . 285 Appendix 307 A List of Theme Topics. The Special Tablet List. A List of Reference Books. A Selected Bibliography Index 351 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH IN THE SECONDARY SCHOOL CHAPTER I BASIC AIMS AND VALUES IN THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH The mediocre English teacher is often mediocre because he views his work from the merely obvious and immediate point of view. He is tempted to accept unquestioned the work which authority has imposed, and thus he fails to recognize the larger and finer aim which a broad psychology and an actual understanding of social values would supply. Because other English teachers in his vicinity have been doing their work in a special way, he wrongly concludes that their conven- tionalized methods are the only correct methods. Or because men of recognized experience have made cer- tain recommendations, he may falsely conclude that within their condensed set of recommendations are embraced all the arcana of the craftsmanship of Eng- lish teaching. But genuine craftsmanship seeks a larger base and a more extended vision. It skeptically ques- tions the validity of present performance and con- stantly urges a continual and intelligent advance. Because the art of English teaching deals primarily 2 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH with language, the English teacher must clarify his conception of language formation and language growth, and thus employ his complete knowledge in adding to his teaching efficiency. In acquiring this knowledge he may profitably ask the aid of both the psychologist l and the linguist, and through these learn the impor- tance of having a scientific and analytical attitude toward the subject of English instruction. We shall learn from both that one of the funda- mental reasons for emphasis upon English rests on the necessity of mastering the conventional. This asser- tion, it must be understood, is in no sense opposed to the idea that modern education should seek to develop originality. It should develop originality, but there are many conventional things for the student to learn before he can have a base sufficiently firm and suffi- ciently broad to allow his originality intelligent dis- play. Even should we assume that in the grammar grades the student has learned to spell and to capitalize and to punctuate, we should, even without giving any time to reviewing these elementary matters, have a multitude of new principles to impart and new con- nections to make. We are helped in the appreciation of the magnitude of our task by an inquiry into the origin and growth of language. The origin of language is so shrouded in mystery that we are tempted to agree with Greenough and Kittredge in their assertion that " we do not know, and 1 Cf. C. H. Judd, Psychology of High-School Subjects. BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 3 never can know, how language began." * Perhaps we may be aided in our desire to secure a clearer concep- tion of our task of English teaching by a definite under- standing of one of the most widely accepted theories of the origin of speech. This theory assumes simply that in some far-off moment of primeval times, one of our very distant ancestors made a certain definite and arbitrary sound. It chanced that this sound conveyed a certain concrete idea to some fellow being. Finding that this device secured the communication of ideas, this ancestor of ours repeated it and later invented other sounds. And the present complicated state of language growth may be nothing more or less than the enlargement of that primeval idea. Arbitrary sounds, later translated into written symbols, have thus, through a long and involved course, become the me- dium of thought exchange. And it is these sounds and symbols, in all their uses and potentialities, that com- pose the materials of English teaching. In all our educational work it is particularly advis- able that the true relationship of language to thought should be definitely conceived. The English teacher must come into vivid consciousness of the faith that this relationship is so intimate that sincere endeavor to express a particular idea will help to clarify the con- ception of that idea and will, at the same time, tend to give it permanency. This relationship is expressed 1 Greenough and Kittredge, Words and Their Ways in English Speech, p. 4. 4 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH symbolically by Sir William Hamilton. He compares thinking to the process of ^excavation, and language to the masonry which secures form and makes the exca- vation practically enduring. To acknowledge the truth of this interdependence is to place upon all true teach- ers the responsibility of emphasizing language-train- ing for the purpose of developing the thinking powers of pupils. As teachers we shall remember that the early at- tempts of childhood are imitative. The child is merely trying to come into a clear comprehension of his lin- guistic environment and thus learn and thus under- stand the conventions inveterately convolved with his inherited language. In youth and manhood he acquires by education a more or less imperfect mastery of both oral and written speech. He acquires, coincidentally with this, a proportionate mastery of his thinking powers. The highest function of the English course is to bring the two elements of this synchronous growth — power in expression and power in thinking — to a quicker and higher potency. It is because of this intimate and subtle relationship between thought and expression that the study of a certain writer's style will, within certain limitations, reveal that writer's thinking powers; for maturity of thought almost automatically secures maturity of ex- pression. And conversely, the cultivation of a more mature style will generate a more exact and a more involved process of thinking. In teaching pupils to BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 5 read and write effectively we can make use of this principle in a practical way. We can, for example, in the earlier years of the high-school period, dwell upon the process of cultivating a more mature form of sen- tence structure. It is particularly helpful to explain all devices by which proper subordination of ideas are secured within the sentence. Gradually, by making the more involved forms the basis of drill, we may encourage a maturer type of thinking. The English course develops this maturity of thought and expression by the work in composition and the work in literature. The intent of the first is to give the student command of the art of both oral and written expression and in the process to clarify the student's own thinking and feeling. The intent of the second is to stimulate thought, to arouse sympa- thetic emotions, and to purify conduct through the selected writings of those who have something worthy to say and have learned the art of saying it worthily. And to discover how this dual growth in language power may be developed, we may examine, in closer detail, the possibilities offered both (1) through the expressional side of language, and (2) through the inter' pretation of reading matter. 1. The expressional side of language The most marked growth in language power comes, doubtless, through the opportunities offered con- stantly by informal speech. It is our recurrent priv- 6 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ilege, in conversation and in letters, to give pleasure to our family and to our friends by recounting inter- esting incidents and describing scenes which the experi- ence of each day offers. We soon discover that any lack of success in these attempts is due in part to inac- curate observations. We realize that we have care- lessly allowed our impressions to be casual and general. We should instead rigorously demand that they be specific and thorough. As Flaubert explained to Mau- passant, each horse is different from every other horse, and a careful observer will detect the difference. Then having detected this difference, the writer's problem is to select such specific words as will graphically reveal the striking and differentiating qualities. To allow himself to perceive and express only vague and general impressions is to allow his vision and his style to be- come sadly enfeebled and powerless alike to secure any real intellectual grasp or. set forth any real impression. This contrast between vagueness and clearness of thinking is generally revealed in group discussions of any question other than the purely obvious and ele- mentary type. The relationships of the various items that the question comprehends are either not per- ceived at all or else perceived but dimly. Many of those participating in the discussion reveal both lack of power in logic and lack of power in expression. Business men seated around the directors' table dis- cussing the probable influence of the Federal Reserve Law, educational theorists considering the practical BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 7 help that may come from vocational guidance, a town meeting questioning the advisability of introducing military drill into the public high school — any of these groups is likely to reveal marked distinctions in the power of the participating individuals to conceive true values and to express these values in a really illuminating way. When Alfred Tennyson once re- visited Cambridge his mind reverted to various dis- cussions that he and his friends had had in those college rooms in which Arthur Hallam had lived as a student — those rooms Where once we held debate, a band Of youthful friends, on mind and art. And labor, and the changing mart, And all the framework of the land; When one would aim an arrow fair, But send it slackly from the string; | And one would pierce an outer ring, And one an inner, here and there; And last the master-bowman, he, Would cleave the mark. A willing ear We lent him. Who, but hung to hear The rapt oration flowing free From point to point, with power and grace And music in the bonds of law, To those conclusions when we saw The God within him light his face, And seem to lift the form, and glow In azure orbits heavenly-wise; And over those ethereal eyes The bar of Michael Angelo. What was true in the college days of Hallam and Tennyson is still true in the discussions of all questions 8 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH that demand mature analytical thinking. Because we are habitually hazy in our thoughts, we are habitually hazy in our expressions. On the other hand, accuracy and crispness in the first process naturally impel accu- racy and crispness in the second process. The constant effort of the English teacher should be to strengthen these two correlative phases of the educative process. Pupils thoroughly trained, in thinking and phrasing, will gradually acquire the coveted skill and will gladly enter into competition with those in their classes who have won this dual triumph — clear thinking and clear phrasing. It is interesting to note how this dual skill, mani- fested in its concisest phase, invents and preserves proverbs. Peoples of past ages had long realized that many observers were easily deceived by the mere ex- ternal appearance of things, — particularly the value of shining metals, — but Cervantes, perceiving the truth with special vividness, graphically phrased it for all time in his enduring proverb — "All that glisters is not gold." A considerable portion of the power and fame of Bacon, Knox, Pope, and Franklin rests in their power to condense much into little. Something of this conciseness the students should be taught to acquire. It is apparent that the power of concise phrasing and the power that manifests itself in the informal and extempore debate, such as Tennyson and his friends indulged in, may be quite fragmentary and thus escape the demand of structure. It is the more formal and BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 9 preconceived speaking and writing that urges such a care in logical arrangement as will instantly command attention and preserve coherence through a series of paragraphs presenting various phases of a given topic. These various phases must be so presented that each succeeding part may follow as a natural consequent. And such a demand, constantly and consistently ex- erted by the student, is the great factor in developing — along with the language sense — ■ ability in accurate and constructive thinking. If the first part of this formal arrangement is con- cerned with the presentation of various and successive items, the latter part will offer the logical generaliza- tion and thus center into an important thought the natural and inevitable deduction; it will make explicit the unified theme resident in the varied data. Or the organizer may, instead of adopting this inductive method, follow the deductive process; he may estab- lish his premise in the beginning, and then step by step show how this phrased theory embraces and explains all possible exigencies compassed by the proposition. In either case he will exercise great care in so articu- lating the parts of his discourse that each step will show a natural and logical advance. Carefully selected connecting phrases will indicate the successive steps and make the result a coherent whole. By continued practice in the process the student will constantly tend to develop accurate expression and logical thinking of the more constructive type. 10 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Still another interesting phase of expression and thinking is seen in the paraphrase. In a paraphrase, we test our understanding of a passage by changing the expression to accord with our own style, generally simplifying the original language and arranging the words in a more natural order. We take Browning's question — " Irks care the crop full bird? " and change it to read, Does any care disturb the bird that has had enough to eat ? The very exercise of our own language power has enabled us to come for the moment into coincident thinking with Browning. The process — especially with the young student — has stimulated both constructive thinking and definite phrasing. It has given him power in assembling fragmentary ideas. A greater aid will come, however, when the pupil has completed a more extended unit. Let him be asked to write out in his own language the thought which Browning has given us in the following passage from Rabbi Ben Ezra: — Not on the vulgar mass Called "work" must sentence pass, Things done, that took the eye and had the price; O'er which, from level stand, The low world laid its hand, Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice: But all the world's coarse thumb And finger failed to plumb. So passed in making up the main account; All instincts immature, All purposes unsure, That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount: BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 11 Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All men ignored in me, This I was worth to God. ... The rethinking of Browning's thought would give us a result akin to this: We should not judge a piece of work — a book, a picture, a vase, for example — by its mere external appearance or by the fact that it commands a high price in the current market where values are gauged by somewhat low and immediate standards. We should, on the other hand, consider things more deeply than this; we should take into account all the unapprised and unappraised items that went into the accomplishment of the given task — all the undeveloped ideas, all the tentative purposes, that were not actually and practically utilized, yet at the same time vitally influenced the work. These vague and unformed thoughts could not develop into specific expression, and. these fancies that escaped capture were unknown to men, but were known and appreciated by God. The performance by the student of a task of this sort will encourage him to follow accurately the lines of the poet's deeper thinking and will at the same time teach the student something of the poet's art of ex- pression. To these advantages we may add the large quantum of intellectual power and language skill that practice in exact phrasing always brings. 12 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH A similar result may be achieved by the use of the abstract. The abstract demands the same coincident thinking and furthermore requires the student to re- phrase the ideas in condensed form. After studying a long essay, for example, the main thought of the essay may be reduced to a paragraph. Or the thought of a short poem, such as Matthew Arnold's sonnet, Worldly Place, may be expressed in a single sentence. Even in a palace, life may be led well ! So spake the imperial sage, purest of men, Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell. Our freedom for a little bread we sell, And drudge under some cruel master's ken Who rates us if we peer outside our pen — ■ ' Match'd with a palace, is not his a hell? Even in a palace ! On his truth sincere, Who spoke these words, no shadow ever came; And when my ill-schooled spirit is aflame Some nobler, ampler stage of life to win, I'll stop and say: "There were no succor here! The aids to noble life are all within." After following each detail of the poet's thought, the student gains a certain degree of power by his attempt to reduce the message to a single sentence, such as the following: Depressed by our limited surroundings, we may long for a higher place; but remembering that Marcus Aurelius found a -palace full of temptations, we may com- fort ourselves with the thought that the real aids to human life are within. The process of making such an abstract has forced the student to digest the author's thought and has at the same time urged an abridged but a comprehensive BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 13 expression of that thought. The work properly accom- plished has unquestioned educative value. It stimu- lates thinking and it stimulates phrasing. In the cases which we have been considering we have emphasized principally the sort of expression that clarifies thought. It is of lesser importance that we emphasize the sort of expression that clarifies emotion, for emotion is more likely to be felt by the untrained reader. Such a reader may, however, grow more sensi- tive to emotional effects by noting a critical analysis that shows the way these effects are produced. How, for example, does James Thompson secure the feeling of dominant gloom in his City of Dreadful Night ? Study merely the first stanza : — As I came through the desert thus it was, As I came through the desert: All was black. In heaven no single star, on earth no track; A brooding hush without a stir or note, The air so thick it clotted in my throat; And thus for hours; then some enormous things Swooped past with savage cries and clanking wings: But I strode on austere; No hope could have no fear. Slow reading and pause are essential for appreciation. We then get the effect of limitless extent connoted in the word desert and the concurrent sense of the per- vading dark — a darkness that shuts out all light from the stars above and all the tracks and trails on the sand-strewn earth beneath. Everywhere is the sense of hushed and brooding silence and the distress that comes from breathing suffocating dust. All this suffer- 14 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ing and gloom the traveler endures for long hours. Then some huge things fly past; it is too dark for him to distinguish them and perhaps he would not know the strange creatures could he see them. He is im- pressed chiefly by their enormous size, their savage cries, and their clanking wings. But all this blackness and suffocation and interrupted silence aroused no sense of fear; as the traveler-poet had already aban- doned himself to hopelessness, be strode stoically on. The reader may be led to see that the effect of the desert sense is deepened by the repetition in the first and second lines. The feeling of blackness is intensified by the specific mention of the blackness in the sky and the blackness on the earth. Certain expressions are appropriately chosen to create specific emotional effects; such expressions are brooding hush, clotted in my throat, swooped past, savage cries, clanking wings. Each of these re-creates the sensory images that deep- ened the poet's emotion as he wrote. To reveal this to the unpracticed reader is to increase the reader's per- ception of emotional effects. The increased appreciation for discerning the meth- ods which skilled writers have used for clarifying their tb jught and emotion is here emphasized for the pur- pose of developing the student's power of original expression. Having through instruction and practice become more familiar with these technical matters, he becomes increasingly concerned with the task of origi- nal creation. Seeing how others succeed in expressing BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 15 their thoughts and feelings, he catches hints that enable him to express his own thoughts and feelings. He acquires skill in the selection and arrangement of words. Vivid adjectives, verbs that re-create situation and feeling, the nice correspondence of sound and sense, sympathetic portrayal of character, the percep- tion and expression of sensory images — these supply the elements and qualities of style that mark his pro- gress in the mastery of language. 2. The interpretation of reading matter The preceding discussion has laid its stress upon the task of developing in the student power to express thought and emotion in suitable language. This is the art of composition. We are now to discuss briefly the task of the student in understanding the work that good writers have produced. This is the art of inter- pretation. In teaching, each of these arts needs to be supplemented by the other. A large part of the difficulty of school and college work is traceable to the student's inability to read the printed page. Laziness encourages a disregard of dic- tionaries and reference books. Indifferent and frowsy habits prevent concentration. Where such lapses per- sist, the writer and the reader cannot come into coin- cident thinking or feeling. Thought and emotion are here lost, not because either the sending or transmit- ting apparatus is bad, but because those who sit at the receiving station are either ignorant or incompe- 16 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH tent. How can the student be stimulated to intelli- gence and alertness here? The most necessary habit is concentration. Too many students have learned the gentle art of slipping over difficulties. They have ac- quired unusual skill in cutting the first o out of thorough and getting through — as their net attainment. In the primary grades the pupil's first problem is simply to master the mechanics of letter and word and sentence. The unfamiliar forms finally come to yield their familiar message. With the advance in the mas- tery of the mechanical forms the problem grows more complicated. The high-school student, for example, is still concerned with the question of form, but the problem has attained greater difficulty because the sentence structure of the reading selection reveals greater complexity of phrasing and greater maturity of thought and emotion. The vocabulary and the style have naturally kept approximate pace with this ad- vance in complexity and subtlety. The constant prob- lem of the English teacher is to keep before the expand- ing mind of the pupil such literary selections as will day by day stimulate a wholesome growth and still confine the writer and the pupil easily within the realm of common understanding and common sympathy. To prevent lethargy and stagnation, the student must first be taught the necessity of mastering the vocabulary of the reading selection. Without under- standing each word he cannot get the full meaning of the author; and to fall into the habit of carelessly get- BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 17 ting only a part of the meaning is to weaken all disci- pline and vigor of the mind. He must learn to use the valuable help that comes from the dictionary, the encyclopedia, the atlas, the Bible concordance, and all the ordinary reference aids. Nor have we sufficiently emphasized in our teaching the fact that even when all the words and allusions have been mastered, the reader has not yet, it may be, received the full message of the sentence or paragraph; the ideas are so far aloof from his own experience that he feels no cordial sympathy. On one who knows nothing about Boy Scouts scant impression is made by reading the bare sentence — " Jack Blossom's Scout honor was being sorely tempted." Really to under- stand the significance of this it is necessary to have lived in intimate association with the idea of Scout honor. And thus it is that interpretation of literature is often difficult because the interpreter's experience is necessarily limited. But the intensive study of literature means much more than this mastery of the literal and the connota- tive. While there must be the intellectual and sympa- thetic comprehension that concentration and study and experience bring, there must likewise be, in all true interpretation, a spiritual comprehension as well. There is in true literature — particularly in poetry — a cadence that finds response in the emotion and imag- ination of men. How significantly is this revealed in Tennyson's lines descriptive of the bugle's song! 18 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH O, sweet and far from cliff and scar! The horns of Elfland faintly blowing. A certain rhythmic and imaginative play in the lines secures its natural response in those readers who are trained to listen for aesthetic effects. Furthermore, throughout our study we must vigi- lantly guard against fragmentariness; we must strive to secure the whole effect. To attain the complete values demanded by the art of interpretation it is necessary to see the particular function that each of these selected portions serves in carrying out the mes- sage and design of the whole — the whole poem, play, essay, or story. The relative place and importance of each scene, situation, incident, and idea must be seen in the perspective that will properly subordinate each to the main thought and reveal the complete artistic design and the dominant purpose of the selection. To test the reader's understanding of the whole, he should be encouraged to phrase the central idea in condensed form. And along with this sort of test, the student should be constantly encouraged frankly to discuss whatever may be the current reactions — intellectual, emotional and moral — which the given selection produces. What does it mean? What feelings does it arouse? What beauty does it portray? What mood does it engender? What truth does it reveal? What conduct does it urge? These and other questions of a more intimate nature will serve to show how vital the inner BASIC AIMS AND VALUES 19 message of literature really is. For we must all admit that the most practical interpretation of literature is not seen in mere intellectual, emotional, or aesthetic response; it is seen in the realm of actual living — higher conduct growing out of a higher idealism. And it is toward this design that the real teaching of litera- ture is tending. Professor MacVannel l voices a signifi- cant truth when he writes: " The fundamental bond of social life is, then, none other than morality, which consists essentially in the presence of some phase of the social purpose as a moving ideal before the individ- ual mind." By giving to our young people the high ideals of our best writers, and by showing how these ideals are revealed pictorially in fiction and drama and poetry, we may bring to them the most vital truths in the realm of practical ethics. It is apparent, from these enumerations, that the task of the literature teacher is a complicated one. He must teach his students to be conscientious in mastering new words and in learning the significance of new allusions; he must teach the value of experi- ence — real or imagined — that enables us to enter sympathetically into an alien situation; he must teach his students to respond to aesthetic effects of style and treatment; he must arouse the keenest intellec- tual response, and above all, he must stimulate a desire for noble living. 1 J. MacVannel, Outline of a Course in Philosophy of Education, p. 113. Macmillan, 20 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH The basic aims and values in English teaching, we may briefly reassert, rest primarily upon expression and thought. This interesting and intimate relation- ship between language and thinking should consist- ently guide our teaching and should intelligently lead our students into a gradually maturing skill in power of interpretation and power of phrasing. The two concurrent pedagogical agencies in this dual process are the courses in composition and the courses in liter- ature. The ultimate aim of the first is a finer crafts- manship in language and style; the ultimate aim of the second is an enlargement of knowledge, an expansion of ideals, a deepened emotion, and a perfected conduct. The two phases of the work should never be kept widely apart; each should constantly be made to sup- plement the other and to merge its separate functions into the general design of the mastery of English. CHAPTER II ARTICULATION OF ELEMENTARY-SCHOOL ENGLISH WITH SECONDARY-SCHOOL ENGLISH We are so accustomed to treat educational topics analytically that we sometimes lose sight of the value of considering them synthetically. Instead of dividing our educational processes into definite and highly elab- orate groups, it is desirable that we at times mentally reverse the process and conceive the unity of the whole educative process. We should think of it as a devel- opment from within outward, the various rates and stages of progress being conditioned by a favorable external environnment. This, as we explained in the opening chapter, is of particular value in English instruction. Whether we be teachers in the elementary school, the grammar school, the high school, the col- lege, or the university, we all find two common aims constantly dominating: We are anxious to develop power in expression, and power in interpretation. Now, in this endeavor we have found it expedient to divide ourselves into groups and to label ourselves kindergarten teachers, elementary teachers, grammar- grade teachers, high-school teachers, and college pro- fessors. And we have together set about doing the work that convention has allotted to our confined fields. But working in those fields, toward the desig- 22 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH nated aims, we have had our notions rudely disturbed — our progress has been sorely hampered because we have found so many clods unpulverized, so many weeds still luxuriating. Baffled and vexed we have turned to discover who was responsible for the disturb- ing conditions; and naturally we have laid the blame upon the group of instructors who have immediately preceded us. In the calmer moments that followed our decision we have seen that fault-finding was not only futile but often unjust; for so many alienating influences lay just beyond the pale of this preceding instruction — home influences, the language of the shop, street, and playground, the "comic" section of the newspaper, cheap theaters, low standards everywhere. Out of this charity and this conviction sprang the realization of the need for mobilization of forces against these common enemies; and this, in turn, laid stress upon organization and proper articulation. Failure to make effective articulation has been all too obvious between many of the stages of the pupil's progress; but the division most difficult to bridge has undoubtedly been that one which spans the period between the elementary school and the secondary school. In the grammar grades the pupil's work, in- cluding his study periods, has been closely supervised. He has usually been under the constant charge of a teacher who hears him recite in all his various branches. Even where departmental work has been carried on, ELEMENTARY AND HIGH SCHOOL 23 the policy of close supervision of the entire day's work has not been relinquished. This practice has sometimes made it extremely diffi- cult for the entering pupil to use wisely the larger liber- ties of the high school. Left free to choose his own study periods — many of them outside the schoolroom — the pupil has floundered in his new independence and has failed in his first year's work for lack of defi- nite direction and adequate supervision. Oftentimes the high-school teacher of English has taken too much for granted. He has falsely assumed that the entering child was able to take care of himself — to study the literature assignment without aid, to prepare the oral or the written theme without detailed suggestions. An expert, perhaps, in his own field, en- dowed with an insight that reveals at once the message of the selection, skilled in the art of writing and speak- ing, fertile in mental resourcefulness, and still en- wrapped, it may be, in the trailing clouds of college glory, he is entirely unable to appreciate the struggles of this fourteen-year-old neophyte who stands without the treasure-stored cave with absolutely no knowledge of the " open sesame" that unlocks the barrier to the treasure within. Under such circumstances it is perhaps but natural that the high-school teacher of English should have grown a bit captious and complain that his pupils had come to the high school without adequate preparation in technical grammar, unable to write and speak cor- 24 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH rectly, helpless in knowledge of attack, and woefully deficient in power to read. Asked to defend herself against such an arraignment, the teacher from the elementary school might truthfully reply that she knew nothing of the conditions that prevailed in the gram- mar school and could therefore have no real concep- tion of the many and varied demands which lessened the opportunities for English training. She might add that the high-school teacher failed to adjust his meth- ods to the natural immaturity of the child and neg- lected to make the transition easy by offering the needed personal aid. Were we to seek a definite summary of the various criticisms that come from the two sources we should secure something akin to this : — A. From the high school: — First-year pupils suffer from (1) ignorance of formal grammar; (2) inability to write and speak correctly; (3) inability to grasp the central thoughts of a reading selection; (4) unconnected course of study. B. From the grammar school: — The high school fails to articulate with the grammar school (1) in program; (2) in method of instruction; and (3) in general handling of pupils. The maladjust- ment during the transition produces license and con- fusion, which reacts in lowered performance and dis- couragement. Full conception of these convictions has suggested various experiments. Many in executive authority insist that only the most expert members of the Eng- lish staff shall be allowed to teach the first-year high- ELEMENTARY AND HIGH SCHOOL 25 school English. Natural sympathy and intelligent ex- perience have developed in these selected teachers a skill that insures a safe pilotage for this entering class. Increasing resourcefulness has continued to develop a finer teaching technique, and this increased skill has gradually reduced failures to the minimum. This improved condition, however, has not usually come to any school system without effort. It may have come through the influence of some grade teacher who has been transferred — perhaps temporarily — from the grammar school to the high school. The authorities have watched her successful work in the grades, they have noted her unusual teaching skill, combined with her adequate culture, and have very correctly assumed that her influence would be equally stimulating with high-school pupils. They have, accordingly, invited her to teach English in the high school. Where such transfers have been wisely made, the influence of such a teacher has quickly spread throughout the English staff. The best of the grammar-school attitude and method has thus been brought to the high school, and the number of failures consequently reduced. More time has been given to personal conference, more at- tention paid to the possible ways of developing oral and written themes, more stress has been placed upon intelligent drill, and more specific aid offered for the study of the literature assignment. We have remarked parenthetically that this trans- fer from the grades to the high school may be tempo- 26 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH rary. Oftentimes when intended to be but temporary the change has proved so advantageous to the high school that the high school has demanded the retention of this skillful teacher. For the good of the entire sys- tem, however, it is generally desirable that such a teacher return to the grades and carry back to her asso- ciates in that sphere of work the lessons that the high school has taught her. Upon her return to the grammar school she will be more watchful of her teaching meth- ods. She will guard against that type of grammar-school teaching that makes the pupil helpless and dependent when he later encounters the new freedom and neces- sary responsibilities of the high school. She will try to make him more resourceful in the planning and the writing of his own themes; she will develop more initia- tive skill in the preparation of a literature assignment; she will be more intelligent in her emphasis upon drill. The same school system that encourages this sort of exchange may likewise send a high-school teacher to the grammar grades — though this is less commonly practiced. In most instances it is easier to encourage frequent visits of the high-school teachers to the grades. While not so much may be learned by cursory visits as by actual exchange, it is, nevertheless, true that even temporary contact will prove enlightening; it will be particularly helpful because it will generate a spirit of intelligent inquiry and genuine sympathy. This spirit may be further developed by group con- ferences. The superintendent of schools or the super- ELEMENTARY AND HIGH SCHOOL 27 visor of English may appoint a general English com- mittee, made up of representatives from the upper grammar grades and from the high schools. A cam- paign for the year may be planned by this committee, and the general conferences — from three to five, let us say — may discuss at each meeting selected phases of this larger question. To prevent rambling and vague comment the committee should exercise great care in the choice of speakers and in the phrasing of its topics. To insure more careful thinking on the part of each member of the conferring group, the committee should, previous to the meeting, send out printed or type- written programs of each conference. At the end of a year — or some other predetermined period — the committee, in its final report, should be able to record a definite accomplishment. Some of the topics that might profitably be investi- gated by such a conference are : — 1. Standards of measurement in theme-correcting. 2. What specific accomplishment may the high school reasonably demand? (a) In composition. (6) In literature. 3. What items in technical grammar should be taught? 4. How can certain types of errors — the "run-on" sen- tence, the "dangling participle," the subordinate- clause sentence — be most effectively eliminated? 5. Securing variety in sentence structure. 6. The construction of a twelve-year English course. 7. Oral composition. 8. Oral reading and declamation. 9. The three hundred words most commonly misspelled 28 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 10. Devices for teaching punctuation. 11. Devices for teaching the paragraph. 12. Plays, pageants, and motion pictures. 13. Cooperation with other departments. 14. Cooperation with city library. 15. The use of magazines. 16. Does ability in oral and written English, shown in the grammar school, fail to persist in the high school? 17. Are the standards of composition achievement in the grammar school and the high school the same* Are they mutually understood? 18. What causes, aside from variable standards, may con- tribute to explain the possible deterioration in the Eng- lish work of the first-year pupils? 19. What can be expected of the successive grades in ability to grasp central thoughts of the reading selections? 20. How can the choice of reading matter in grammar and high schools be systematized? 21. Letter- writing and how to teach it. 22. How pictures may be used in teaching literature. One of the ways to make this conference work effec- tive is a predetermination to print the results of the investigation. During the three years of such collabo- ration at Newton, we have published three different reports — one on spelling, one on sentence structure, and one on letter-writing. Working in conjunction with the Division of Education at Harvard University, we have also aided Dr. Learned and Dr. Ballou in supplying the material used in construction of the Harvard-Newton Scale. 1 Several conferences grew out of an attempt to bring ' l The Harvard-Newton Bulletin, no. 2, Scales for the Measurement of English Compositions, by Frank W. Ballou, Ph.D. Published by Harvard University, September, 1914. ELEMENTARY AND HIGH SCHOOL 29 the grammar- and high-school teachers of Newton into a clearer understanding of aims and standards. The following notice was sent to all the grammar schools of the city: — To the Masters of the Newton Grammar Schools: — It has been frequently observed that, in the transition from grammar school to high school, some pupils find difficulty in adjusting themselves to the new conditions. So far as it con- cerns work in English, the teachers in the English depart- ment of the Newton high schools desire to get at the facts in this situation. It is hoped that thereby conditions in the high schools, which may at present be working injustice to the pupil, may be discerned and removed, and that a good mutual understanding of aims and correlation of standards between grammar schools and high schools may be pro- moted. As one means to this end it is proposed that a complete set of short themes, representative of the present work of first- year pupils in the high school, be sent back to the respective grammar schools where these pupils were prepared, and there be corrected and rated precisely as for mature members of the eighth grade. It is asked, further, that in addition to the rating and correction, it be expressly stated whether, in the opinion of the teacher or the master, the exercise represents a gain or loss or approximately normal work on the part of the child concerned. To supplement the information thus obtained, and to afford a broader basis for investigation next year, the gram- mar masters are invited to secure a similar theme from every pupil at present in the eighth grade, and send the themes to the high school, where they will be corrected and rated from the high-school point of view. They will then be returned for the inspection of the grade teachers and preserved for future comparison. For the sake of uniformity and complete- ness it is desired that the following conditions be observed : — ■ 1. That a specimen theme be secured from every child now in the eighth grade, regardless of his division. 30 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 2. That it represent his original work alone, uninfluenced and unimproved by assistance of any kind. 3. That the exercise be conducted by the master, and be limited to a half-hour precisely. (The amount written in a given time is one factor desired.) 4. That the instructions be given to the class as follows: "Give an account of the most exciting experience you have ever had (real or imaginary)." Assign the task the previous day. 5. That the exercise be written on standard theme paper (unruled margins), and bear the name and age of the writer, the name of the school, the grade and division, and the date in the upper right-hand corner. Use the reverse side of the sheet if necessary. 6. That the papers be looked through first by the grade teacher and rated on the same basis as other eighth- grade papers, the ratings to be entered on a separate slip and sent to the superintendent. No marks should be placed on the papers. It is clear that a comparatively moderate amount of effort will thus place at our mutual disposal a considerable mass of definite and significant evidence which alone is of value in attempting the solution of problems of this nature. While it is apparent that such a topic could not yield definitely measured results, it is equally clear that work of this character is worth while because it tends to develop the spirit of cooperation and friendly inquiry. Moreover, the two groups were better able to understand each other's point of view and to catch hints of methods that we can now more wisely adopt in our individual classes. Because conditions are always changing and the personnel of a teaching staff never remains permanent, it is of course desirable that ex- periments similar to this be frequently repeated. ELEMENTARY AND HIGH SCHOOL 31 To those who have had their English training in small private schools the difficulties of articulation as just outlined will be unfamiliar. This is particularly true where the plan of organization follows the English system — division into the six forms that succeed the elementary grades. The division between the elemen- tary school and the first form comes at an age which makes the transfer easier, for there is, of course, no marked chasm between the second form — correspond- ing to the eighth grade — and the third form — cor- responding to our first-year high school. The transfer is no more difficult than between any other two forms. The perception of the easier and more gradual ad- vance has suggested the six-year plan; and the Na- tional Council of Teachers of English, working through its committee on the reorganization of high-school English, has laid out a six-year course both in litera- ture and in composition. The course begins with the seventh year and ends with the twelfth. The division, it may be noted, accords with the idea and plan of the junior high school, so successfully conducted now in many communities. While the more extravagant claims of the junior high school may not justify them- selves in actual test, it seems reasonable to assume that the mere bre r '^mg-up of the set division of school work will in itself tend to effect a readier and less self- conscious transition. The junior high school by its very genius implies attention to details that in the past have hampered the natural educational progress. 32 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH It selects a period of development when the change is easier for the pupil; it chooses for its teaching staff both those who have had experience in the grammar school and those who have had experience in the high school: it grants a larger amount of time to the indi- vidual pupil. These theoretical advantages suggest better articulation. Still another agency that will help us out of our diffi- culty is the English supervisor — an officer coming into more and more prominence as the need for expert direction of English work becomes more clearly ap- parent to those administering a school system. In some cities the English supervisor has directive charge of all the English work throughout the twelve school years. In larger systems the field is limited to the upper grammar grades and the high school. Whatever the designated field, the influence of a strong guiding hand is one of the most helpful factors in effecting closer articulation between the grammar school and the high school — and even if this were his only accom- plishment, his services would be extremely valuable. As a matter of fact, the bridging of this particular chasm is only one item in the more intelligent unifica- tion of the English instruction. Through the conference work and through the influ- ence of the superintendent of schools or the English supervisor, the grammar school and the high school can agree more definitely upon the specific work that each should attempt; for in this prevailing vagueness ELEMENTARY AND HIGH SCHOOL 33 of demand the grammar-school teachers feel helpless. Usually they are more than willing to meet their tasks when they know definitely what those tasks are. And this specific knowledge the various administrative agencies of the school should help to establish. CHAPTER III THE RELATION OF GRAMMAR TO COMPOSITION AND LITERATURE Inasmuch as grammar, composition, and literature are usually linked together as necessary component parts of the conventional English course, it is natural to inquire into the nature of this relationship and to question the logic of this triangular linking. Is the kinship among these three studies so close as inevit- ably to link them together in all our secondary English courses? Can any one of them be taught independ- ently of the other two; and if so, is such differentiation and isolation accomplished only by a certain tour de force that makes the process artificial and defective? And if we are correct in our assumption that the aims of English instruction are, when reduced to simplest terms, the acquirement of more skill in expression and in interpretation, is the study of formal grammar necessary? A generation ago, by a consensus of opinion, educa- tional authorities were willing to accept the theory that grammar is the agency that teaches us to write and speak the English language correctly. The same generation voiced its approval of grammar by using it in analyzing and parsing generous portions of Para- dise Lost, or some equally famous literary selection. GRAMMAR, COMPOSITION, LITERATURE 35 Thus the influence of technical grammar was allowed to dominate both the teaching of composition and the teaching of literature. But some one, skeptically inclined, began to notice that certain people with little knowledge of textbook grammar spoke and wrote with unusual correctness; and that others, well-nigh perfect in their knowledge of grammar, spoke and wrote the English language atrociously. This skeptic also discovered — or thought he discovered — that a knowledge of grammar did not necessarily insure power in the interpretation of litera- ture. The skeptic was followed by the scientific in- quirer, who made tests that seem to have proved that pupils with accurate knowledge of formal grammar are no more correct in English expression than are those pupils with little or no knowledge of formal grammar. And similar tests support the view that knowledge of grammar neither insures correct literary interpretation nor gives the pupil additional power in discriminations. 1 Mr. Abraham Flexner, writing in the Atlantic Monthly, July, 1916, re- voices this skepticism. " One wonders," he says, " what will happen to formal gram- mar in the age of reason the coming of which will be accelerated by asking why. Sometimes it is urged that formal grammar teaches children to write and speak 1 F. S. Hoyt, "The Place of Grammar in the Elementary Cur- riculum," Teachers College Record, November, 1906. T. H. Briggs, " Formal English Grammar as a Discipline," Teachers College Record, September, 1913. 36 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH correctly; but as all Americans have studied formal grammar, including newspaper reporters and sales- women, there would appear to be no guaranty that formal grammar study leads to correct habits of speech. On the other hand, I once knew a school where for fourteen years not a minute was spent on formal grammar, and, like the worm who does not miss a slice or two, no one ever knew the difference. I suspect that formal grammar is in for trouble when parents begin to insist on knowing why." A questionnaire recently submitted to the English teachers in all the high schools of New York City con- tained this specific question: — r Do you think the study of formal grammar in the high school produces marked results in increased efficiency in the use of English? To this question 129 voted " yes "; 151 voted " no." * It will be noted that those voting for the affirmative totaled only 34 per cent. We get an interesting result from the collected answers to another item in the same questionnaire: — Would a carefully planned course in English usage, in place of the course in grammar, result in greater effectiveness in the use of English than does the course in grammar? In reply 141 voted "yes"; 99 voted " no." The total voting affirmatively is 58.7 per cent. 1 Bulletin xvi. Published by the Association of High-School Teachers of English of New York City. GRAMMAR, COMPOSITION, LITERATURE 37 Commenting on this vote the committee reports: — The obvious conclusion would then seem to be that formal grammar should be dropped from the course of study, and that in its place should be put a course in English usage, largely a drill subject, perhaps to be called applied grammar. In such a course, it would seem to your committee, the teacher should cease to regard grammar as a science so far as work is concerned, and should bend every effort toward the improvement in the art of speech. That is for most of us a matter of habit, of imitation, if you please. Further light on the problem is seen in the results of an investigation which Professor W. W. Charters, of the University of Missouri, 1 made with the children of Kansas City. Professor Charters found out, by careful experiments with the children of all elementary grades above the third grade, exactly what errors in grammar were being made by these children in oral and written speech. These errors, having been re- corded and collected, were sorted as to types, and percentages on each of the discovered types were com- puted. The completed investigation showed what rules of grammar had been violated. An additional table set forth the items of grammatical knowledge necessary for the pupil to know in order that he might understand the rule. Before he could understand that the object of a verb is in the objective case, he must, for example, know the significance of the term verb and objective case. This report disclosed the fact that many items now 1 Bulletin of the University of Missouri, vol. 16, no. 2. Columbia, Missouri, January, 1915. S8 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH currently taught in the grammar texts used in Kansas City are useless when we consider only the knowledge that — consciously or unconsciously — determines correct English. We might, according to the testi- mony secured, dispense with the following terms: exclamatory sentence, interjection, the appositive, the nominative, the objective complement, the objective used as a substantive, the adverbial objective, the indefinite pro- noun, the classification of adverbs, the noun clause, con- junctive adverbs, the retained objective, the nominative absolute, and the gerund — all technical items that are explained and illustrated in the grammar texts used in the Kansas City schools. These experiments, and others that have been made, have brought a strong arraignment against grammar. In its final report to the National Council of Teachers of English, the Committee on the Articulation of Elementary and High-School Course in English, voices this protest in unequivocal terms: — The time-devouring demands of formal English grammar are outrageous; the results on language interpretation and language use are practically nil. The elementary school should sharply delimit the term "grammar" as applying to analytic, formal grammar — the grammar that encumbers absorptive little minds with useless terminology — and em- phasize grammar in the sense of correct use, the facts to be drilled on as use and not to be terminologized. 1 In the face of these protests, the soul of the experi- enced teacher may perhaps stand up and answer, "I 1 The English Journal, May, 1914; vol. S, no. 5, p. 307/. GRAMMAR, COMPOSITION, LITERATURE 39 have felt." He knows that his painfully acquired gram- matical knowledge has helped him, and he knows, too, that the knowledge his pupils have gained has helped them. Certain grammatical rules he has gratefully accepted as final authority on doubtful points. The current tendency of thinking educators is to advocate the teaching of a limited amount of formal grammar in some particular teaching situation. When teachers find that their students do not have the item of knowledge that would overcome a given difficulty, they should pause then and there to give them that knowledge. They want it for the same reason that in playing chess they want to know the significance of such technical terms as castling, gambit, queened 'pawn, and stalemate. The knowledge of the mere terms will not enable them to win the game, but it will afford them a chance to discuss situations more intelligently, and these discussions may enable them to clarify their notions of effective chess-playing, and in time contrib- ute to their skill. Think of being a good golf-player without knowing the meaning of a 'putting-green, a mashie, or a niblick ! And if you were teaching chess or teaching golf, would you not insist that your pupils master these terms? We are continually playing with our students this interesting game of language. As together we make our moves, as we make our strokes, we ever and anon find ourselves in interesting situations — some of these evidencing skill, some of them evidencing crudeness, 40 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH If some of these situations have, by previous practi- tioners, been happily named, is there any reason why those of us who know these names should not accept and teach them. Our newly acquired term may not make us skilled writers or gifted interpreters, but it will make our discussions more interesting, more eco- nomical, and more intelligent. All this means to suggest that in teaching composi- tion and in teaching literature, grammar should all the while be thought of, not as an end in itself, but as a means toward an end. It cannot, in itself, teach any one to use the English language with unfaltering cor- rectness: it can, however, be utilized as an effective agency (1) in perfecting oral and written speech, and (2) in interpreting literature. Each of these functions we may, in turn, briefly discuss. Grammar and composition In correcting compositions we continually find that our pupils have written sentences of this faulty type: Which is a perfectly sound document. Most teachers have discovered no better way to eradicate this error than to teach very thoroughly the distinction between a sentence and a clause — or, if you prefer, the dis- tinction between a principal clause and a subordinate clause. Knowledge of this grammatical distinction may not alone correct the fault ; this knowledge supplemented by adequate drill, can correct the fault. GRAMMAR, COMPOSITION, LITERATURE 41 Or take such a persistent error as the "run-on" sentence: / went to hunt my cousin I found her in the elephant's tent. Knowledge of what constitutes a sen- tence and the subsequent drill that develops sentence sense — these, so far as we know, are the only things that will completely eradicate this error. Well taught, the student will likewise easily see that a comma between the principal clauses will not suffice; sentence sense is satisfied only by a semicolon or a period after "cousin." » It was recognition of the aid that grammar offers composition teachers that led the National Conference on Uniform Entrance Requirements in English to record its opinion: — The study of English in school has two main objects: (1) command of correct and clear English, spoken and writ- ten; (2) ability to read with accuracy, intelligence, and appreciation. The first object requires instruction in grammar and com- position. English grammar should ordinarily be reviewed in the secondary school; and correct spelling and grammatical accuracy should be rigorously exacted in connection with all written work during the four years. The principles of English composition governing punctuation, the use of words, sen- tences, and paragraphs should be thoroughly mastered; and practice in composition, oral as well as written, should ex- tend throughout the secondary-school period. 1 But rather inconsistently, usage allows a comma in similar cases where three clauses are used, as in the following sentence after do: — Practically, however, Cuba has been looking to us constantly for hints as to what we would like to have her do, she hardly takes a step without consulting Wash- ington, and it is quite apparent that the mere rumor of a secret wish at Washington may be enough to influence action in Havana. 42 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH A later paragraph in the same report explains the examination requirements: — In grammar and composition, the candidate may be asked specific questions upon the practical essentials of these studies, such as the relation of the various parts of a sentence to one another, the construction of individual words in a sen- tence of reasonable difficulty, and those good usages of modern English, which one should know in distinction from current errors. The first examinations which the College Entrance Examination Board held after these requirements came into force (June, 1915), carried out the spirit and the letter of the preceding demands. 1. (a) Explain the grammatical relation of each clause in the following sentence: — I do not know why.so much that is hard is interwoven with our life here! but I see that it is meant to be so interwoven. (6) Copy the following sentences, making such changes as you think necessary: — Between you and I, I think I would prefer not to publicly acknow- ledge the mistake. Each one said good-bye in their own way. Tell me all the circumstances, both pleasant and otherwise. Those roses may smell as sweetly as you say, but it don't matter to me, for I've got an awful cold. The questions in June, 1916, were similar in their intent: — 1. (a) Explain the grammatical relation of each subordi- nate clause in the following sentence, and tell what part of speech each italicized word is : — When such a question comes before the Supreme Court and is deter- mined, the determination may be different from what the legal pro- fession has expected, may alter that which has been believed to be the law, may shake or overthrow private interests based upon view* now declared to be erroneous. GRAMMAR, COMPOSITION, LITERATURE 43 (b) Copy the following sentences, making such changes as you think necessary or desirable. Briefly tell why you make each of these changes : 1. The long line of automobiles, each with their freshly painted bodies were very impressive. 2. There is no doubt of him being the best of the two. 8. The final match to the tournament transpired yesterday. Each played first-rate. Whom do you think was the victor? We do not cite these questions as a fundamental reason why grammar should be taught in connection with composition. We cite them merely as evidence of a continuing conviction among thinking teachers that grammar is an efficient and necessary tool in the mas- tery qf our English speech. But throughout our com- position teaching we should insist that no false wor- ship be bestowed on grammar. Grammar's laws are not unalterable — they are simply some analyzer's attempts to express the principles of current usage in speaking and writing. When this usage changes we recast our rule. When good usage accepts " It is me," for example, we must either revise our rule for predi- cate-nominative or accept the form me as a form of the nominative. Grammar simply registers good use; its powers are not executive. 2. Grammar and literature In teaching literature the appeal to grammatical knowledge is naturally less frequent than it is in teaching composition. But to dispense with the aid that grammar offers would mean the loss of a valuable tool. In the study of Browning's Rabbi Ben Ezra many 44 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH of our high-school and college students have found the interpretation of the second and third stanzas diffi- cult: — Not that, amassing flowers. Youth sighed, "Which rose make ours. Which lily leave and then as best recall?" Not that, admiring stars, It yearned, "Nor Jove, nor Mars; Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!" Not for such hopes and fears Annulling youth's brief years, Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark! Rather I prize the doubt Low kinds exist without, Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark. Ask the simple question, "What is the subject of the first sentence in these two stanzas? " There will be various answers, and only a few will see that the sub- ject is I in the line beginning Do I remonstrate. Then ask for a paraphrase, and ultimately — after many questions on the syntax — you will get this for the first sentence: 7 do not remonstrate against the fact that, during its brief period, youth spent its time in selecting pleasures and in cherishing exalted ambitions. The last part of the fourth stanza of the same poem will give grammatical pause to some : — Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed beast? What part of speech is irks ? care? frets ? doubt ? Put the words in their natural order. Many readers, careless in noting syntactical points, GRAMMAR, COMPOSITION, LITERATURE 45 fail to get the full meaning of this simple passage from Intimations of Immortality: — Oh, evil day! if I were sullen While Earth herself is adorning, This sweet May-morning. But establish the simple fact that herself is the object of is adorning and the meaning of the line is unmistak- able. The last part of the third stanza in Ode on a Grecian Urn often proves puzzling: — Ah, happy, happy boughs, that cannot shed Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; And happy melodist, unwearied, For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd, For ever panting, and for ever young; All breathing human passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. Ask the students in your class for the syntax of passion. You will discover that not all of them will have noted that it is the object of the preposition above. This bit of grammatical knowledge thus interprets the line; it shows that the love here described is of a highly spiritual type — far above all breathing human passion. The right answer to this question on grammar will bring into clear focus what was cloudy and vague, and the members of the class will wonder at their own lack of insight. Comparatively few literature recitations will pass that do not invite question involving a knowledge of the simpler principles of formal grammar. Separations 46 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH of main and subordinate clauses, the modifications of verbs or nouns, the correct placing of adverbial phrases, the differentiations of subjects and objects — answers to such grammatical questions will correct misconceptions, establish right relationships, and re- veal to thinking students unsuspected modes of intel- lectual attack. As teachers of literature we therefore see the value of continued instruction in the simpler principles of formal grammar. This, then, is our conviction and conclusion. Tech- nical grammar in itself is of limited value. When taught it should be taught as a means toward an end — not as an end in itself. The common terms have economic value, for they may be profitably used for purposes of discussion and consequent clarity. Its laws are not to be viewed as sacred or unalterable; they are simply attempts to record current principles of good usage. When this usage changes, the laws must be revised. But in the current status of our English lan- guage, when printing has crystallized the essential forms of speech, and the trained eye resists innova- tions, we may accept with a feeling of surety the ex- pressed principles of our best grammarians. Accepting them and demanding that our students accept them, we may, as teachers of composition and of literature, make effective use of these grammatical principles, and thus secure added reverence for the best of English usage. CHAPTER IV COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS While an interesting group of friends were seated one evening around the inviting fireplace of one of our city clubs, the conversation drifted undesignedly to the discussion of accomplishments. The question crys- tallized finally into this form: "Granted the super- natural privilege of receiving to-night whatever accom- plishment you wished, what would be your choice?" Naturally there were various answers — musical pow- ers, the wisdom of the philosopher, the insight of the scientist, the ingenuity of the inventor, the skill of the great sculptor, the great painter, the architect, the actor. After many various opinions had been ex- pressed, one of the men, who had all the while remained silent, finally spoke in a tone that won immediate attention. He said that the gift he would choose was the gift that would give him complete and subtle mas- tery over the English language. " What greater pleas- ure," he inquired, " than to hear some one express in clear tones and in appropriate diction the thought that we in our crude way have long been struggling to express? The occasion," he added, "is always present — dictating a letter to your stenographer, phrasing your ideas at the meeting of a board of directors, writ- 48 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ing a committee report, — not one of us but needs the command of the English language every day. The minister in his pulpit, the lawyer at the bar, the poet in his study, the editor at his desk, the teacher in his classroom, the guests around a dinner-table, we our- selves seated in this chance group — to what greater power can any one aspire than the power to marshal at will the most appropriate thought and express that thought in the most appropriate phrase?" There was a general feeling that the speaker had chosen wisely and that nothing further need be said. But from the stage of immaturity among our high- school freshmen to the acquired power of men and women to marshal their best thoughts and command the fittest utterance of their ideas, a long series of years and a tedious stretch of discipline intervene. The end we see in the master's skill; the process we see in the neophyte's struggles. Our ideal, however, is gloriously conceived; what shall be the routine that leads to this mastership of language? We must discover the peda- gogical base and build from that. In their own experi- ence many teachers of English have found the largest possibilities for growth in carrying out the spirit of the five imperatives we have here enumerated: — 1. Develop a sense of form and organization. 2. Discover and arouse the individual's interest. 8. Stimulate keen observation and graphic phrasing. 4. Make use of the other studies in the curriculum. 5. Criticize constructively and sympathetically. COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 49 1. Develop a sense of form and organization We must emphasize mechanical details. Make con- crete demands and hold your student unequivocally to those demands. Here are certain requirements 1 to which each student in all his submitted written work must rigidly comply. 1. Use only the uniform paper designated by the English department. 2. Write with black ink on one side of the paper only. S. Write the title on the first line. Capitalize important words. Draw a double line under each word. Place no period after the title. 4. Leave one line blank between the title and the first line of the composition. 5. Indent each paragraph. Begin one inch from the left- hand margin. All other lines should start exactly on the margin. Do not allow your right-hand margin to be- come too scraggly. 6. Use the hyphen cautiously, at the end of lines, with careful attention to the division of words. Do not divide syllables. 7. Endorse all themes exactly as the teacher directs. 8. Make your handwriting legible. Do not allow any letter to extend far above or far below your base line. Do not crowd your words — leave a space of a quarter of an inch between them. These demands should be insisted upon all the more rigorously because so much English work is, by its very nature, vague and indefinite and offers liberties that some students will grossly abuse; but here the re- 1 These directions, with slight difference in phrasing, are taken from Thomas and Howe's Composition and Rhetoric. Longmans, Green & Co. 50 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH quirements are absolutely specific and allow the most rigid auditing. Where this is true, we are false to the highest teaching standards if we permit our pupils to become lax: while teaching English composition we may also teach a bit of applied ethics. These mechanical points here dwelt upon are not to be accepted as the chief and dominating points under form and organization. They are merely the necessary superficial attributes. We should emphasize them at the beginning of our composition work in order that we may not have to emphasize them throughout. * The abiding stress in organization falls upon the consideration of the composition as a whole — its beginning, its middle, its end. These are not mere requirements which arbitrary rhetoric-makers have whimsically set. The principles find their base in common-sense psychology. It is like the journey from here to anywhere — we make our start, we pursue our progress, we reach our end. Recounting it afterwards, we are most likely to narrate the incidents in chrono- logical sequence, and thus satisfy nature's rigid de- 1 In this connection, too, we may remark in passing, the time when themes may be handed in should be inflexibly set — the begin- ning of the hour of the designated day. The wisest policy is to refuse — except in rare instances — to accept a theme which is overdue. If for his neglected or late theme the pupil has a good excuse, record the excuse; if he has no excuse, record the failure. Learning your iron will, the students graciously bend to yours : learning your weak will, they make you ungraciously bend to theirs. In such a situation you can say with the Duke of Ferrara, "And I choose never to stoop." COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 51 mand for order. This demand leads us to insist upon an introduction, a development, and a conclusion. An undiscriminating emphasis, however, has not infrequently been placed upon the demand for an introduction. If a boy decides to write a short composi- tion on My First Great Disappointment, he does not have to go around Robin Hood's barn to get a start. A false emphasis upon introductions may encourage him to say, " First great disappointments are of vari- ous kinds.'" This is flagrantly inane. It is far better, of course, to make the immediate plunge and say, "My first great disappointment was my inability to attend Barnum's circus." The theme is going to be so brief and so comparatively inconsequential that any purely introductory sentence is artificial and needless. We begin without delay. When I go over to the club with my neighbor just across the street, I get up and walk over without bothering even to put on my hat. But before taking a trip to New York, I spend half an hour in packing. If I plan a summer in Europe I spend a day or two in packing and in other preparations. Then I start with a safer sense of assurance. Nature's sense of order demands, further, that when we start on these journeys we should not only know where we are going, but we should know the various steps to take after our arrival. In a word, organization demands prevision — the same type of prevision that enables an architect to perceive imaginatively the detailed structure of a building. The principles that 52 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH govern the architectonics of writing, it is the business of the composition teacher to see and teach. What we have accepted concerning the introduction to a composition applies likewise to the conclusion. A part of the charm of a short theme may be its abrupt ending; the writer crisply says his say and stops. Larger compositions — particularly the long exposi- tions and the long argument — are, on the other hand, more commanding in their appeal if at the end they rephrase and reinforce the salient points. But when the mechanics of this organization are too boldly dis- closed, a part of the effectiveness of the order is lost in the obviousness of the scheme. The reader resents the bare disclosure of the skeleton plan. As students of composition we must therefore remember that such devices as the enumeration of points and the repe- tition of headings may grow monotonous and ob- trusive and thus thwart our design of retaining the interest and good will of the reader. We need un- studied artlessness in our studied art. As an aid to effective writing, students should be encouraged to make definite outlines as plans of their work, in order that the whole may be definitely pre- visioned. But the students must likewise be advised to make the method of transition from point to point so skillfully as to avoid obtrusion and monotony. In many cases the prepared outline may be very simple, but in the longer essays — essays of twelve or fifteen hundred words — they should be reasonably elaborate. COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 53 As an example of a simple outline form we may note the following: 1 1. A certain house has three floors: — A. The ground floor, containing the 1. Reception hall. 2. Living-room. S. Dining-room. 4. Kitchen, including the (a) Butler's pantry. (b) Cook's pantry. (a') Cupboards. (&') Cold-storage plant. B. The second floor. 2 C. The third floor. 2 In the writing of the theme the three most impor- tant principles to observe are Coherence, Unity, and Emphasis — what Mr. Opdycke, in his Composition Planning, calls the C U E of good writing. After teach- ing the principles, we may insist that our students apply to each of their given compositions these three tests: (1) Do the parts stick together? (2) Do all these parts in combining say but one main thing? (3) Are the parts so apportioned and so placed as readily to make the strongest appeal? If, then, the teacher has put enough — but not too much — stress on the mechanical points, the paper, the ink, the margins, the penmanship; if he has laid a much firmer stress upon the necessities of cultivating the power of previsioning the entire theme, and has all 1 C. N. Greenough, English A — Manual of Instructions and Exercises for 1916-17. 2 Subheadings not worked out. 54 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH the while rigorously insisted that in carrying out this preconceived plan the writer shall carefully observe the three principles of Coherence, Unity, and Emphasis — if he has done these things well, he has laid his foundations securely and may proceed to other matters. 2. Discover and arouse the individual's interest Perhaps more important than the way to do a thing is the impulse to do it. It may, therefore, be more important in some classes for a teacher to give first consideration to the creation of this laudable impulse to write. Certain it is that there is unlikely to be un- usually good execution without unusually vivid con- ception. One of our first attempts, therefore, should be to arouse a glowing interest in something specific; for interest spontaneously incites expression, and free expression is one of our chief aims. With the impulse established, pride in the performance may be later — perhaps concurrently — aroused. Start each year with something new. You have, perhaps, never tried advertising. Try it this year. Send your pupils to the newspapers and the magazines. Suggest that they bring to you the next day the best advertisement they can find. When the class assembles the following morning have several of these advertise- ments read. Discuss why they are good, the item that caught the individual's attention and made him select that particular one. Agree upon something for the COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 55 next day that all will select as an advertisement theme. Perhaps it is a summer cottage on the shore. In this advertising- writing can you do as well as the agent who advertised a. client's house? When a purchaser ap- peared a few days later he asked to see the house. " No," said the owner, " I don't want to sell. I did n't know what an attractive estate I owned until I read my agent's description of it in last Wednesday's paper. Now I 'm going to keep this splendid place." This advertising suggestion is just a point of depart- ure; it arouses a sense of novelty, it stirs up the lethar- gic, it makes the thoughtless think. Composition, it may be, is not so dull after all. Go from advertis- ing to something else, and finally you will be having your boys and girls doing the thing you really want done. But advertising, you say, does not appeal to you. Very well. Try something else. On page 56 is a chance item clipped from the Boston Herald of August 23, 1916. This slight story — merely one of thousands that we read in the daily press — has many imaginative appeals that your pupils will be glad to utilize in their oral or written themes, provided only the English teacher present it with zest and feeling. Here are some of the various possibilities of working up the details: -— 1. How "Cousin Jane" got her name. 2. Her first manifestation of Wanderlust. 3. Incidents of the hurdy-gurdy days. 56 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH COUSIN JANE" OF DEDHAM DISAPPEARS FROM HOME May Have Yielded to Wanderlust, but Owner Thinks Monkey Was Stolen Whether the Wanderlust seized "Cousin Jane" again, or whether some vandal suc- cumbed to her charms and forcibly abducted her, is the problem that is puzzling Mrs. Huntington Smith of Dedham, the owner of the very fine South American monkey whose loss was advertised in yesterday's appers. For years "Cousin Jane" led the life of a nomad. In the company of two Italian hurdy-gurdy girls, she journeyed from Maine to California, spending the greater part of the day's hike perched on the back of the gray Indian pony which drew the street piano. Then the outfit became stranded in Dedham, the girls found employment in a shoe factory, and "Cousin Jane" became persona non grata in the factory boarding-house. At this time she passed into the hands of Mrs. Smith, and has been the spoiled darling of the neighbor- hood ever since. Fastened to a tree in front of the house, she has received the attentions of friends and passers-by for the past two years, until Mon- day morning, when she disappeared. It may be that the lure of the gypsy trail became too great for "Cousin Jane" and that she has gone to find another hand-organ to which she may attach herself. Mrs. Smith, however, is inclined to believe she was not a free agent in the matter, and is offering a reward for her return or discovery. COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 57 4. She loses her mate in Maine. 5. Her first red coat and cap. 6. Learning to ride Wyoming — the pony. 7. The parting from Mona and Tessa. 8. "Cousin Jane" plays a trick on the star boarder. 9. The exodus from Hunter Street. 10. Mrs. Smith receives the wanderer. 11. Gaining the host's affections. 12. Getting acquainted with the neighbors. 13. An enemy in the midst. 14. The lure of the gypsy. 15. She meets another mate. 16. Living up to a monkey's reputation. 17. In disgrace. 18. Reenter Mrs. Smith. Or perhaps you have discovered that one of your pupils, Frank Ranger, knows more about birds than Audubon did in his day. Frank gets up every morning to make his observations. See him privately. Get him to talk. You are interested and he sees that you are. Finally the opportune moment comes and you tell him what you want him to do. " Write out sometime Mon- day just what your bird observations were before breakfast that morning. Bring your rough draft to me; I want to talk to you about it." Then you make the necessary changes and suggest additions; tell him to write it out in ink and ask him to read it before the English class on Tuesday. That is simply another point of departure. You have discovered this boy's particular interest. Discover the personal interests of others and use these enthusiasms to stir the lifeless. Is composition teaching dull? Only if you are con- 58 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ventional and unresourceful. Don't follow custom too blindly; push your bark into uncharted seas. Invent your own devices — these mentioned are simply three out of a score that might be named; it is far better for each of us to be original and evolve our own. Develop the spirit of adventure. Discover and arouse the in- terest of the class, the interest of each individual pupil. You will enjoy it, and so will they. You will have a good time siphoning their ideas; but you will have to start the siphon. 3. Stimulate keen observation and graphic phrasing We are now getting started, but we need to do more. We need to stimulate keen observation and graphic phras- ing. We may name these two together because they are psychologically related. If we learn to observe keenly, we have made our first step toward phrasing vividly. But we need to acquire words — and subtle power in mastering them — before we can reveal to others the results of our keen observings. Both of these powers are admirably revealed by Mr. Joseph Husband in his "Dynamite," 1 published in the Atlantic Monthly (July, 1915). Mr. Husband, describ- ing his visit to a dynamite factory, has just come from one of the buildings where a portion of the process of manufacture is carried on, and is approaching the second building where the process is completed. 1 This essay now appears in America at Work. Houghton Mifflin Company. COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 59 Far down at the end of the little street the strong, hot smell of paraffine hung heavy in the air. Inside, against the walls of the building, the paper cartridges were drying; racks of waxed yellow tubes half filled the building. Here the first process of manufacture was completed. Stable and harmless, the fragrant wood-dust was being pre- pared for its union with that strange evanescent spirit which would endow it with powers of lightning strength and rapid- ity. With our powder shoes sinking in the sliding sand we climbed the path to the top of the hill which marked the center of the twisted dune. On its summit the frame building 'of the nitrater notched the sky. Here in the silence between earth and clouds, a mighty force was seeking birth. Perched on a high stool, an old man in overalls bent in- tently over the top of a great tank, his eyes fixed on a ther- mometer which protruded from its cover. Above, a shaft and slowly turning wheels moved quietly in the shadows of the roof. There was a splashing of churning liquid, and the bite of acid sharpened the air. This quotation illustrates what is accomplished when acute powers of observation are combined with bold skill in phrasing — ability to detect sensory impressions and ability to convey these impressions to listeners or readers. Yes, easily perceived in the master, some inquirer comments; but how are you to teach the apprentice? For one thing dwell upon this term sensory impression 1 — the varied messages caught by the five senses of taste, smell, feeling, hearing, and seeing. In the first portion of the quoted passage we get at once the paraffine smell, the waxed yellow tubes, the fragrant 1 For a fuller discussion of sensory images see How to Teach the English Classics, R.L.S., no. I. Houghton Mifflin Company. 60 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH wood-dust, the sinking shoes, the splashing of churning liquid, the bite of acid in the air — an appeal to each sense except the sense of taste. The chances are that your pupils have not thought much about these ap- peals and their possible uses in composition. Make a deliberate assignment for the next day — a composi- tion that makes an appeal to at least three different senses. Here are some suggested titles: My Walk among the Fir Trees; Gathering Checkerberries; Our Winter Picnic; Among the Tapestries; An Imaginary Ramble in Sunny Spain; Feeding the Wild Animals; A Forest Fire. 1 It will be readily seen, after a short experience along these lines, that one reason why the young writer has not observed closely is that the charm of noting these various sensory appeals has never been brought specifi- cally and compellingly to his attention. Once aroused, his interest will continue, and he will take pleasure in the apperception of finer and more delicate tones and shades. Automatically there will come with this the increase in the learner's vocabulary — new words that will convey to others these newly acquired distinctions. A more graphic style is a natural sequence. As a spur to this developing sense of nicety, the stu- dent should be taught that Nature never produces two objects exactly alike. The blades of grass, the rose leaves, the stalks of wheat, the robins, and the squirrels — each of these has an individuality that differentiates it from others of its kind. The morrow's assignment 1 For a list of over a thousand available topics see Appendix 4. COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 61 might appropriately be for each pupil to bring to class two maple leaves and let a portion of the recitation hour be spent in the study of the differences. The art department and the science department of the school could easily be enlisted in this type of exercise. The parallel literature study offers its constant aid in carrying out this third imperative. A famous nat- uralist once said that his interest in poetry sprang from his chance reading of the first stanza of The Eve of St. Agnes; he was arrested by the line — The hare limped trembling through the frozen grass. The observation of Keats had been sufficiently acute, his power in phrasing sufficiently deft, to bring to this young naturalist the feeling that, after all, science can find in poetry a genuine inspiration and a genuine pleasure. The naturalist, as well as all the rest of us, may be stimulated to keener observation and to more graphic portrayal. The resultant is a general sense of increased satisfaction. 4. Make use of the other studies in the curriculum For definitely carrying out the desire for coopera- tion with other departments, teachers should carefully make their assignments, prefacing them with an earn- est plea for each student, in all his written and oral work in other classes, to make his English as well- ordered, as correct, and as forceful as ability and watchfulness can secure. Upon each member of the 62 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH class impress the idea that mastery in English comes only to him who is willing to make his best effort inten- sive and habitual. With these ideals before a class, the teacher may suggest that for the next theme — oral or written — the topic be directly connected with the work in other departments. Translation from for- eign language will almost immediately suggest itself, and may be offered among several other alternatives. Zest may be added to the next recitation by requiring some of the class to write original themes, others to write translations; and then, when the results are handed in, endeavor to see if the translations have been so skillfully made that they can be distinguished from the original themes. In a chance conversation with a group of pupils, you have perhaps discovered that one of your boys is par- ticularly interested in electricity, another in the prin- ciples of the submarine, and another in aviation. As all of these subjects are a part of the work in physics, the teacher of physics will be interested in helping the student to prepare for this theme which is to be given before the English class. In my own practice I have » cooperated with our senior physics teachers in another way. Near the close of the school year we have found it profitable, where the personnel of the two classes was practically the same, to make use of the stereop- ticon. The physics teacher has prepared a set of slides that illustrated the principles and construction of a dynamo, the working of a gas engine, and many other COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 6S mechanical principles. A slide, or a unit of slides, was given out to each pupil for previous preparation. On the assigned days we met and listened to these themes. We then criticized the themes from the two stand- points — physics and English. The necessity of clear English was then vitally enforced. Nor is it necessary that the classes meet with two teachers. In your own classes require an explanation of the principles that dictate the construction of the storage battery, the third-rail system, the arc lamp, milk tester, block sig- nal, parachute, airbrake, air pump, water pump, hydraulic ram, elevator, telephone, and a score of other mechanical devices of daily observation. /History offers an endless variety of subjects, extend- ing from the earliest controversy in the Garden of Eden to the latest development of the woman- suffrage movement, and disclosing a chance to discuss in dramatic detail many varied events in which men and women have wrought important changes in the history of the world. What is true of foreign languages, science, and his- tory is true in varying degrees of all the other subjects in the school. By taking the initiative in making use of these non-English topics we may enlist the interest of the other teachers and thus begin a successful cam- paign to raise to a higher standard the oral and the written work of the entire school. The students may be taught to feel that a lapse of English in any classroom is just as serious as a lapse in the English classroom. 64 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 6. Criticize constructively and sympathetically Our fifth command — to criticize constructively and sympathetically — can be habitual only with those teachers who are quickly responsive in mind and heart — intellectually able to note possibilities to improve the theme and temperamentally able to offer this criti- cism in the spirit of genuine cooperation. It would be impossible to estimate how many promising writers have had their spirit and ambition thwarted by the unintelligent and caustic criticism of some incompe- tent instructor — one who has falsely taken pride in his smart and frigid comments. Constructive and sympathetic criticism can best be given by personal conference — student and teacher going over the theme together and each getting the other's point of view. In large schools, where this is impossible, the spirit of helpfulness can be developed by the tone of the comment. No student is going to do his best in an atmosphere where the instructor takes cynical delight in a writer's faults. Such criticism be- gets repression and excites only colorless creation. On the other hand, the true critic is going " to en- deavor to see the thing as in itself it really is"; he is therefore going to point out the perceived defects and the perceived virtues with equal candor. Where the theme can be strengthened by a reshifting of para- graphs, by the omission of one sentence here and the inclusion of another there, by complete recasting — in COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 65 i short, where any improvement can be made, the critic should make insistent effort to detect it. Having detected it, he will offer his aid in the spirit of genuine helpfulness. Where a theme is so bad that it needs to be rewritten, the instructor will not content himself with a laconic direction, — ■ Rewrite, — he will offer Constructive aid for the rewriting. To carry out this work in the spirit suggested, the teacher should first read the theme entire in order to detect the general intent and tone. Certain impressions he may then record — Shows genuine feeling; Reveals accurate knowledge of details; Fails to carry conviction; Good in thought but careless in phrasing; Too obvious in its structure; You have made us see the picture; Original in conception; Adequate vocabulary; Not clearly enoug conceived; Chronological sequence carefully observed; Lacks logical arrangement; Too many short sentences; Faulty paragraphing. Such comments as these last three should be supported by specific designation of the faults and by definite suggestions for improvement. Attention will constantly be directed to all elementary lapses. The teacher's final judgment of a particular theme is in the best current practice registered by some desig- nated mark — usually by the letters, A, B, C, D, E. In many schools the custom is to mark on a percentage basis. While the weight of authority favors the reten- tion of the practice of grading themes, there are serious objections to it. The most serious is the danger of sub- i 66 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH jective judgment. 1 Every test that has been made proves that even the most expert markers vary widely in the grades assigned to given themes. A variation of fifty or sixty points is not unusual. All this disparity has suggested the need of a device that would secure truer and more uniform results, and sincere efforts have been made in that direction, the most notable of these being the Hillegas Scale and the Harvard-Newton Scale. 2 Each of these is suggestive, but neither has 1 Cf. H. H. Holmes's and W. S. Learned's discussion of the Hil- legas Scale, English Leaflet, no. 104. 2 Some of the more important results of scientific measurement in the field of English are found in the following list: — K^The Fourteenth Yearbook of the National Society for the Study of jmZdueation, part i, chapter vn. I Ballou, Frank W. Scales for the Measurement of Composition. Har- vard-Newton Bulletin, no. 2, September, 1914. Briggs, Thomas H. "Formal English Grammar as a Discipline," Teachers College Record, xiv, no. 41, September, 1913. Courtis, S. A. "Standard Tests in English," Elementary School Teacher, xiv, no. 8, April, 1914. Hillegas, Milo B. "A Scale for the Measurement of Quality in English Composition, by Young People," Teachers College Record, xin, no. 4, September, 1912. Johnson, Franklin W. "The Hillegas-Thorndike Scale for Meas- urement of Quality in English Composition by Young People, School Review, xxi, no. 1, January, 1913. Kelly, Frederick James. "Teachers' Marks: Their Variability and Standardization," Teachers College, Columbia University, Contribu- tions to Education, no. 66. 1914. Earhart, Gertrude, and Small, Jennie. English in the Elementary School, xvi, no. 1, September, 1915. Hosic, James Fleming. "The Essentials of Composition and Grammar," School and Society, I, no. 17, April 24, 1915. Charters, W. W., and Miller, Edith. A Course of Study in Gram- mar. University of Missouri Bulletin, no. 16. No. 2, Education Series 9. COMPOSITION AND ITS ESSENTIALS 67 proved itself adequate as an objective means of accu- rate measurement of composition values. Indeed, the constructors of the scales would doubtless not argue such a possibility. They look upon the device as a means of securing a greater degree of accuracy and uniformity in ratings. Professor Neilson, of Harvard, has voiced a prevailing sentiment in the English Leaf- let (January, 1913) : — It is important to notice that the proper field for the application of such a scale, even when perfected, is in judging the proficiency of pupils with a view to promotion or trans- ference from one institution to another. There are other and far better tests possible for purely teaching purposes; and it would be unfortunate if so .external a method of judging results were used in classroom work, in which the teacher needs to judge his pupil's attainment with reference to more specific defects than can be revealed by any such scale. Behind this question of scales and objective measure- ments is the notion of generating the impulse to write and to give the student power to view his own work critically. The preconceived end of all teaching effort should be to transfer the critical function from the teacher to the writer — to develop in the student the Gerrish, Carolyn M. "The Work of the Committee on Standard in English," Education, xxxvi, no. 1, October, 1915. Starch, Daniel. "The Measurement of Efficiency in Reading," Journal of Educational Psychology, vi, no. 1, January, 1915. Starch, Daniel. Educational Measurements, Macmillan, 1916. Thorndike, Edward L. " The Measurement of Ability in Reading," Teachers College Record, xv, no. 4, September, 1914. Freeman, Frank N. Experimental Education, Houghton Mifflin Company. 68 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH power to see his own composition virtues and his own composition faults. He should learn to be his own severe critic, but he should likewise cultivate respon- siveness to his own merits — a proper degree of appre- ciation intermingled with a proper degree of censure. Where the teacher has established this attitude in the mind of each pupil, we may rest assured that that teacher's own criticism has been both constructive and sympathetic. He has been more intent on developing force than in discovering faults. In the meantime this same teacher has all the while been diligently carrying out the spirit that forms the base of the preceding four imperatives that he has adopted as his guides. CHAPTER V ORAL COMPOSITION Oral composition, as we have now come to use the term, is not applied to the short, informal, and frag- mentary answers that we so often get in our classroom work; it is applied to the longer and more carefully planned reports, descriptions, narrations, explanations, or arguments that the pupils have prepared to give orally before their classmates — largely such themes as they might have given had they taken the pains to write them out. Drill in this type of work has be- come more insistent with the growth of the conception that skill in oral expression is not likely to develop by any haphazard process. We have learned that we must apply to these oral units the same systematic care, the same clear prevision, and the same technical execution that we apply to the preparation and the execution of the written theme. Necessity for this drill is the more easily apparent when we recall the fact that oral de- mands are incalculably more frequent and more in- sistent than are written demands; and to ignore prac- tice and the inculcation of high ideals to meet these requirements is to ignore what is perhaps the most important element in the educative process. In working out this problem of oral composition in 70 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH high-school practice, teachers have come to lay stress upon three things: (1) the assignment; (2) the perform- ance; and (3) the criticism. 1. Assignments in oral theme work Usually too little time and forethought are given to the assignment of lessons; too little is offered the stu- dent in the way of workable suggestions; too little endeavor is made to stimulate to unusual performance. Judicious care will, of course, guard against making the performance too ceremonious, too momentous; for always we must preserve simplicity, naturalness, and appropriateness. Perhaps the easiest start is with the incident. Dur- ing the vacation most of us have experienced some- thing a bit out of the ordinary — an automobile acci- dent, a mishap to the motor-boat, a fishing fiasco, a fall from a hay wagon, a visit to a literary shrine, an adventure in the dark, a tennis match, a ride on the old Indian trail, a visit to a life-saving station, a lost pocket-book, a punishment we did not deserve. Any of these well worked up — fanciful details may be innocently added — will be interesting to tell and interesting to listen to. In advising that these incidents be well worked up, we must warn the pupils against committing their themes to memory. " Preparation," we shall tell them, "does not mean the selection of your exact vocabulary — though to your vocabulary you could properly give ORAL COMPOSITION 71 some vigorous thought; it means knowing the exact details you are going to include and knowing the exact arrangement of these details. This means, of course, that you will know how you are going to start and how you are going to close, for the beginning and the end are of prime importance." In addition to the incident, there are many suitable subjects that lend themselves admirably to this oral treatment. The list below suggests some varied types: 1. How to make certain things. 2. How to do certain things. 3. A description of a shrapnel shell. 1 4. A description of an hydraulic press. 1 5. The way modern forts are constructed. 1 6. Reproduction of short stories and legends. 7. Peculiar customs of certain places — in the United States and in foreign lands. 8. Family traditions. 9. New fields of activity for women. 10. How to sell real estate. 11. How to sell goods. 12. Hardships of various occupations. 13. The rewards of various occupations. 14. Peculiarities of literary men. 15. Stories about famous characters. 16. A brief review of a recent novel. 17. The way a submarine torpedo is fired. 18. The dangers of the forest. 19. The work of a threshing crew. 20. How tether-ball is played. As one of the aims of oral composition should be to teach exact listening — an end and aim too frequently 1 For this it is well to have a blackboard sketch. 72 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ignored in most of our schools — an exercise of this sort has been successful in its practical working. Each member of the class has been asked to teach some- thing not well known by the rest; for example: — 1. How lacrosse is played. 2. How lobsters are caught. 3. How sorghum molasses is made. 4. The process of tanning leather. 5. Cranberry culture. 6. The culture and the manufactured forms of tobacco. 7. Wheat harvesting and threshing. 8. The making of shoes. 9. Moulding cast-iron. 10. The manufacture of window-glass. 11. The manufacture of buttons. 12. Silk manufacture. As a part of the preparation for this assignment, each pupil prepares five specific questions designed to enforce the main points in his explanation, and thus test the listening powers of the class. Coincidentally the pupil will, of course, be testing himself on his explaining power. There are countless other devices for arousing inter- est: the organization of the class into a literary society with a program committee; speeches at an imaginary class dinner twenty years from to-day; various forms of debate, formal and informal; a current-events club; a "talk around" (best arranged in a large room where, with chairs placed in a circle, the pupils seated speak in turn on any subjects they choose) ; a book club, where each one tells of the book he has just read ORAL COMPOSITION 73 or is now reading; or a "hobby day," where each dis- cusses his own hobby. In the senior year many of us will find it expedient to make most of the oral theme assignments center around the literature work. After spending most of the apportioned time on an author, — Wordsworth, let us say, — we may tell the class that we shall, within a few days, ask for an oral report, saying in effect this: "Next Tuesday we shall finish our work on Words- worth. On Wednesday we shall have an oral theme on Wordsworth or on some related topic. We shall not bother about the main facts — we know he was born in 1770, that he was educated at Hawkshead and Cam- bridge, that he died in 1850. Each of you will please find out something about Wordsworth that you think no one else is likely to know — some of his minor experiences, some of his interesting associations, an incident connected with some particular poem, or event, or place. We want to help each other by bring- ing to the class this interesting information. Some of you will find significant details about Wordsworth's relations with Coleridge, or Lamb, or Southey, or De Quincey, or his brother John or his sister Dorothy. Or, if you prefer, talk about one of the poems we have n't taken up in class. In a word, take any Words- worth topic you please, provided it be genuinely inter- esting and genuinely instructive." Such an assignment sends the pupils browsing in the library, — appropri- ate books being suggested, — and in their search they 74 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH get much information that otherwise would escape them. There are, of course, many other kinds of assign- ments that resourceful teachers employ; the ones we have mentioned are merely for suggestive purposes. The essential thing is to assign them in such a way as to make them concretely suggestive and to arouse such a spirit of emulation as will secure a high plane of performance. Emphasis must finally fall upon two main motives — thoroughness of the preparation and a genuine desire to bring this beautiful and vigorous English language under easily obedient sway. To secure the thorough preparation we have here discussed many teachers find it advisable to demand a written outline prepared on cards that are given out when the assignment is made. On the day appointed for the theme these outlines should be collected at the beginning of the hour, for a pupil should not be per- mitted to use his notes while giving his theme. The preparation should be so thorough that no written guide should be in his hand — the unwritten guide should be in his head. A few of these outline cards are here reproduced : — A Modern Beehive and Its Occupants I. The hive. A. The lower chamber. B. The upper chamber. ORAL COMPOSITION 75 II. The bees. A. Early spring. 1. The workers. 2. The structure of the cells. 3. Diseases of the bees. B. Mid-season. 1. The battle of the queens. 2. "Swarming." 3. The new home. C. Autumn. 1, Stores. 2. Preparations for winter. A Trip to Catalina Island I. The journey out. A. By electric car to Los Angeles. B. By rail to San Pedro. C. By steamer to Catalina. 1. Seasickness. 2. Appearance of the island. II. The stay at Catalina. A. Lunch at the Metropole. B. The seals. C. The glass-bottomed boats. D. The submarine gardens. 1. Great kelp. 2. Sea-heather. 3. Sea-cucumbers 4. Sea-urchins 5. Goldfish. 6. Rock bass. > 7. Perch. E. Divers for — 1. Abalone shells. 2. Coins. III. The return. A. Fishing-boat followed by gulls. B. Arrival at Hotel Green. 76 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH A Clam-Bake I. Importance of location. II. Preparation. A. Making sandwiches and packing doughnuts. B. Building stone oven. C. Collecting wood. HI. The bake. A. Clams, potatoes, etc., in oven covered with sea- weed. B. The coffee over separate fire. C. The butter dip ready. D. Signal for uncovering. IV. After the feast. A. Singing around the fire. B. Strolling on the beach. C. Sail home by moonlight. Climbing the Great Pyramid I. The journey to the pyramid. A. The drive to the Mena House. 1. Scenery on the way. B. The ride from the Mena House to the pyramid. 1. Donkeys and donkey boys. II. The ascent. A. Colors. B. Arab helpers. C. Difficulties. IH. The top. A. View. B. Carvings. C. The song. IV. The descent. A. Remarks of the Arabs. V. The drive home. A. Sunset behind the pyramids. ORAL COMPOSITION 77 A Toboggan Ride in July I. Introduction. A. It was in Madeira. B. Ship en route to Naples called there. II. Body of composition. A. The toboggan. 1. It was a huge wicker basket. (a) It was fitted up with a seat and with runners. B. The guides. 1. The control of the toboggan. 2. They were agile, avaricious, and thirsty. C. The road. 1. It was narrow and steep. 2. It was paved with rough cobble stones. D. The effects upon the occupants. 1. We were almost breathless from the speed. 2. We were filled with terror. m. Conclusion. A. We were happy in the realization that it was over. A Friend I. General appearance. A. Stature. B. Features. C. Clothing. II. Character. A. Good qualities. 1. Honesty. 2. Kindness. 3. Loyalty. B. Bad qualities. 1. Stinginess. 2. Laziness. HI. Mind. A. Wonderful memory. IV. What people think of him. 78 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH A Visit to the Life-Saving Station I. Introduction. A. Occasion of visit. II. Development. A. The station. 1. Men. 2. Building and equipment. B. Object and method. 1. Patrol. 2. Ships in distress. C. Drills. 1. Gun and boat drill. 2. Signaling. (a) International Code. (1) Indoors. (2) Outdoors. (6) Wigwagging. in. Conclusion. A. Our departure. A Modern Miracle I. Introduction. A. Torre dell' Annunziata as I saw it. 1. The street blocked with lava. 2. The Church of Santa Anna. (a) The cemetery wall at right angles. II. The story. A. The eruption of Vesuvius. 1. The descent of the lava stream. 2. The terror of the peasants. (a) The assembling in the church. 3. The procession of priests with the statue. 4. The abrupt halting of lava. 5. "A Miracle!" III. Conclusion. A. Failure of science to explain. B. "A freak of nature"; or, "Even as a grain of mustard seed." ORAL COMPOSITION 79 2. Performance in oral theme work The giving of this theme — the 1 * performance — is of course the most difficult and important feature of the work. The pupil, standing before his classmates, narrates his incident, explains his mechanical device, tells of customs in other places, defends some current political issue, reports on some literary topic — in a word, carries out the design which his submitted out- line has sketched. If he has made careful preparation, and if he is able to add to the assurance that comes from careful preparation the consciousness that he has something new and interesting to tell the class, the chances are that he will give a successful theme. When he has finished, he may either take his seat or remain in his standing position and await the oral criticism of his mates. Another method for occasional use is to dis- tribute several slips of paper to each student. When the student giving the theme has finished, the other members of the class write out a criticism on their respective slips, each one signing his name to his criti- cism. At the end of the hour, — or at some later period if the teacher prefers to look over these criticisms, — the respective criticism slips are handed to those who have recited. The nature of this criticism we may now discuss; the discussion should bring to light most of the merits and defects of the performance, and should, at the same time, provide knowledge for increasingly intelligent criticisms. 80 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 3. Criticism in oral theme work Criticism of oral themes is most effective if made by the students themselves; the impress is deeper and the reaction quicker. It is necessary, however, that the teacher in the beginning of the work should make every endeavor to generate the right atmosphere — the atmosphere of perfect candor and genuine altru- ism. Each member of the class must feel that he is there to help and be helped; and he must therefore be continually alert in these two ways and be ready to increase the influence that comes from this socializing work. The teacher will take every precaution to make this criticism as systematic and intelligent as possible. For this purpose he may find it helpful gradually to develop in analytical form the points he wishes criti- cized. He may keep before the class this brief black- board outline for available application to each theme: Criticism of an oral theme I. Structure. A. Unity of whole composition and paragraphs. B. Coherence of whole composition and paragraphs. C. Emphasis of whole composition and paragraphs. II. Style. A. Grammar. B. Vocabulary. C. Arrangement of words and phrases in the sentence. III. Delivery. A. Ease and posture. B. Correct pronunciation. C. Enunciation. D. Voice. ORAL COMPOSITION 81 I. Structure. Criticism on the structure of the whole composition considers the beginning, the mid- dle, the end, or — to borrow a figure from horseback riding — the mounting, the canter, the dismounting. Criticism of these points involves consideration of the grace and effectiveness of each of these items. The continuation of the criticism on structure considers the unity, coherence, and emphasis of the whole com- position and the paragraphs. To these it applies the three respective tests: — ■ 1. Do all the parts combine to develop a single central idea? 2. Do all the parts dovetail nicely? 3. Are all the parts appropriately placed and appropri- ately apportioned? To the scrutiny of the paragraphing of oral themes too little critical attention has formerly been paid. The indentation of oral paragraphs should be marked by a pause, a natural shifting of position, and by appropri- ate modulation — usually the lowered tone, combined with a slight decrease in the rate of speed. These nat- ural devices indicate, as the indentation of the written theme indicates, a new phase in the development of the theme. The more marked the change, the more significant will be the pause and the shift in position and the decreased rate of speed. Failure on the part of any student to carry out any of these suggestions should be noted in the class comment. II. Style. Into the subtle niceties of style our high- 82 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH school criticism will not deeply penetrate. Instead, we shall keep out comment pretty close to the externals and consider style chiefly from the standpoint of (1) grammar, (2) vocabulary, and (3) sentence structure. A. Grammar. Most of the mistakes in grammar the students will readily detect. A careless verb form, however, may often escape their notice. We too fre- quently hear the colloquial dove for dived, will for shall, would for should, went for gone, the misuse of got, can for may, and the indiscriminate use of sit and set, raise and rise. There is the student's constant failure to note the correct principal parts of such words as awoke, blow, break, burst, grow, heat, drown, ride, shine, show, slay, throw, flee, fly, flow, and ring. One of the most common misuses of verb forms in the more advanced classes is illustrated in such sen- tences as follow: — 1. Each of us boys were invited. 2. Either John or George were to go. 3. This row of students were most industrious. 4. Richard, with all his sisters, were thrown down the embankment. 5. The substance and the form of the debate is being con- sidered. 6. There goes John and Henry now. Errors in the use of pronouns are frequent in sen- tences like the following : — 1. If any one knows let them raise their hand. 2. There is little difference between him and I. S. The herd lost their leader. 4. I disapprove of novel-reading and seldom read them. ORAL COMPOSITION 83 5. He is the man whom I think is the culprit. 6. I thought it was them. 7. I thought the burglars to be they. Recurring errors of this type should be persistently attacked, and repeated drill should finally eliminate them. One of the most flagrant of these errors is the misuse of like for as. Determine to eradicate it. After careful explanation and many examples of correct use, provide such daily drill as follows: — 1. He looks like his brother. 2. The house looks like it was a hospital. 3. The birds sang like it might rain. 4. This station looks like it had been painted. 5. That garden looks like mine. 6. Those papers were printed like advertisements. 7. This carpet wore out like it was a cheap one. 8. These flowers faded like they were poisoned. 9. The chair rocked like some one were sitting in it. 10. There were men who talked like Syrians. Every day, until every member of the class habitually gets 100 per cent, give ten sentences similar to these, letting the class simply mark the numbers right and wrong. The dash is used to designate the sentences that are wrong. 1 6 2- 7 3- 8- 4- 9- 5 10 Do not let them write out the whole sentence. The decision should be swift. It is necessary oftentimes to dwell upon the question 84 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH of idiom as distinct from provincialism. Most of us have unconsciously adopted some incorrect expressions common to our community and we have accepted them with the same confidence that we have accepted our childish political and religious bias. We shall therefore need to correct such expressions as the following: — 1. I did n't get to go. 2. I want off at Tenth Street. 3. The cat wants in. 4. Billings and Co. have failed up. 5. I got in the team and rode off. 6. I want that you should go. 7. May I borrow that knife off of him? 8. He had n't ought to have gone. 9. He looked for it all over (everywhere). On the other hand, here are some expressions that are correct idioms: — 1. I had rather not accept. 2. I had better refuse. 3. He is a physician than whom there is none better in the city. 4. I am reading somebody's else book — or somebody else's book. B. Vocabulary. One of the first things the class will admire in a theme is the mastery of an adequate vocab- ulary. Nice distinctions and extent of range may not be within the critic's immediate power, but apprecia- tion of this skill is within his power, and very frequently his personal comment will be in praise of this particular attainment. Moreover, this appreciation is one of the most effective incentives to future attainments. What ORAL COMPOSITION 85 can we do to encourage each one to add to his " word- hoard"? Here are some suggestions. 1. Require each member of the class to keep a notebook in which all new words are recorded. This makes all the pupils more watchful of the words they see in print. 2. Place upon the blackboard certain unusual but appro- priately selected words used in a certain set of themes — oral or written. 3. In each written theme require the use of at least one new word. 4. Require five synonyms of five selected words: e.g., beautiful, interesting, skillful, little, morass. 5. Make a list of twenty common nouns that designate the names of supernatural beings similar to fairies. 6. See how many specific names you can list under the general term house. 7. Translate the following current slang into the phrases that would be used by (1) an old lady; (2) a college professor; (3) by you if you were talking to your English teacher: — a. A tin-horn sport. b. A squealer. c. A pippin. d. To fly the coop. e. To be fired. /. Some cheese (he thought he was). g. Your own favorite slang phrase. (Find always the up-to-date slang most used by your own pupils. They will contribute the material.) 8. Find your own pet expression and translate it in five different ways, applying it to varied subjects. Take, for example, the expression perfectly wonderful. What synonyms would apply instead of that as used about (1) an orchard; (2) an opera; (3) a cake; (4) a moun- tain view. 86 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 9. Instead of awful find eight substitutes to apply to (1) an automobile accident; (2) a headache; (3) a fail- ure in business; (4) a lecture that was disappointing. 10. Be absolutely accurate in all your translations from a foreign language. 11. Saturate your memories with well-selected verse and prose. 12. Observe carefully every passing phenomenon and apply the proper name: e.g., oxidation, fertilization, combus- tion, electrolysis. 13. Learn all the specific names you can under such general terms as fish, birds, shells, plants, trees, and animals. 14. Make careful study of the dictionary. Daily and persistent practice along these lines will make us dissatisfied with the drab and the platitudi- nous. We shall seek for colors — not too dazzling — and for novelties — not too daring. Our endeavor will not be to employ the phrase for the sake of the phras- ing but to employ the newer word because it reflects our more precise thinking and our more intense feeling. The more we know the better we phrase, and the better we phrase the more we know. Arrangement of words and phrases in the sentence. Of equal importance with the choice of words is the arrangement of words. A student asked to assume the function of the critic will soon grow more sensitive to the violation of coherence, 1 emphasis, and variety, and will easily come to recognize the charm and force that rest in effective structure. In the beginning of this oral composition work it may be well to pause upon 1 Unity is here omitted because its violation is not so much de- pendent upon arrangement as upon choice of material. ORAL COMPOSITION 87 certain of these common violations, such as are illus- trated in the following sentences: — Violation of coherence: — 1. Laboring under a heavy burden, we lazily stood and watched the staggering man as he hurried up the mountain. 2. The lions having escaped from their cages, they spoke of recapturing them. 3. Having come to the pier, the water looked beautiful. 4. This selection is unusual, but it is of highest merit. 5. He is strong and good and he is a fine scholar. 6. I was restless, so I left the hall. 7. In conclusion, let me urge you to do better. Violation of emphasis: — 1. His instincts are criminal, vulgar, — even unkind. 2. I heard the terrible crash, even though I entered late. 8. The man was a gross impostor, he said. 4. Of all the various forms of drama I prefer tragedy, I think. 5. I was tired, and sick, and restless, and everything. Nature abhors other things besides a vacuum; she abhors monotony. She never repeats her sunsets, her mountain shapes, or her cloud formations. Her land- scapes and her waterscapes delight us with the charm of their infinite varieties. Long-continued uniformity is always irksome. Because we dislike it in language we change our sentence forms. Some are declarative, some imperative, some interrogative, and some ex- clamatory. Other forms we differentiate by such fa- miliar terms as short or long, or simple, complex, or compound. Rhetorically we distinguish certain sen- tences as loose, others as periodic. The points to insist 88 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH upon with our pupils is that no one of these is neces- sarily better or worse than another; effectiveness in structure demands a judicious mixture. We shall affect neither the simplicity of the First Reader nor the circumlocution of Dr. Johnson. Upon the common violations of variety we and our pupil-critics must wage incessant war. The most flagrant fault is the intrusion of the and. It recurs with such appalling frequency that our ingenuity is severely taxed. We place a long list of other appropriate connectives — coordinate and subordinate — n the board; we reteach the uses of the principal and the subordinate clause and make the class memorize this definite command: Express subordinate ideas in sub- ordinate form. When these instructions had all failed one teacher formulated this suggestion : — Provide one boy (a well-selected boy) with the class tap- bell. Instruct him to tap the bell every time an and is used to connect independent statements — not when it connects nouns or adjectives. At the tap of the bell the speaker must take a backward step in his theme, repeat the previous sen- tence, and continue without the and. Do this when the oral theme is a report on some definite topic — not when it is a spontaneous story. The bell kills all spiritual ilan, but ex- poses to the speaker his own frequent lapses. After a brief use of the bell, the necessity for it decreases. III. Delivery. One of the factors that contribute most to effective delivery has already been anticipated in what was said about the preparation. If the student has chosen a subject in which he is deeply interested, if he has made the thorough preparation that creates ORAL COMPOSITION 89 in himself the confidence that immediately puts the listeners at their ease, — if he has done these two things wisely and well, he should have little trouble or embar- rassment in giving his oral theme. Even though he knows his classmates are judging him, he instinctively feels, if the correct tone of criticism has been rightly engendered, that they are judging him fairly; he knows, too, that their vision is as keenly alert to merits as it is to defects. In feeling the demand for effectiveness in his delivery, he knows that the pupils are consider- ing: (1) ease and posture; (2) correct pronunciation; (3) clear enunciation; (4) the management of the voice. A. Ease and posture. As perfect ease and correct posture are the first things we note in a speaker, and are therefore the first elements in securing a favorable impression when we ourselves are before the audience, we must give them first consideration. With head naturally erect, with chest properly expanded, with feet placed at an easeful angle, and with hands and arms in a natural and free position, we look directly into the eyes of our listeners, knowing that in meeting them frankly and unabashed we secure in their imme- diate response a most direct and sympathetic support. Once we have taken care of these preliminaries we should immediately become absorbed in our theme, but not so absorbed as at any time to ignore that !* audience sense " so important for effective speakers to possess and to obey. 90 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH We should not in this beginning be alarmed at the feeling of nervousness; for nervousness, we have learned, is common to the most gifted orators and actors, and may be but the preliminary step to the most marked success and the most brilliant triumph. It can be most readily overcome by concentration upon the immediate theme. This concentration upon the theme will take care of all questions of gesture. If in the 'uthusiasm of the occasion we feel the impulse to enforce our point by significant gesture, we should do it just as naturally as we do in conversation with our friends. Gesture is never effective if purely artificial; it is always effective if purely natural. B. Correct 'pronunciation. There are few things that mar oral speech so irreparably as does mispronuncia- tion, and to avoid it we must therefore apply the great- est care and diligence. We often hear members of the older generation say, "I simply can't keep up with these new pronunciations." We ourselves shall prob- ably make the same excuse in thirty years. And, of course, in many specific instances the excuse will be justifiable. The mispronunciations of our parents, however, are principally due to ignorance; they inher- ited the wrong form from their community; they be- queathed the wrong form to us; and it is now our busi- ness to rid ourselves of this bad inheritance, though in the attempt we needs must suffer all the tortures exacted by diligence and humility. ORAL COMPOSITION 91 A person may, to be sure, be a " sweet girl," " a good mother," " a splendid provider," " a worthy citizen," "a pillar of the church," "an exemplary character," and his moral virtues will of course overshadow the slighter hints of stigma that cling to inherited or ac- quired mispronunciation; but we really may be par- doned for lamenting that certain ones of our esteemed friends persist in saying vodavil, genuine, crick, deef, put, defic'it, lament' able, ellum, and lawr and sqfar and appendiceetus. A few simple suggestions all students should fol- low: — a. Consult the dictionary in cases where a given pronun- ciation is different from yours. b. Remember that many words are authoritatively pro- nounced in two or more ways. c. In reading poetry let the rhyme, in most cases, be one of your pronouncing guides; as in again, wind, and hearth. d. Metrical demands in poetry force us at times to change the normal accent of a word, as in the line: — Nor once be chastized with the sober eye. e. In looking up the new words met in your reading, be as particular in learning the pronunciation as in learning the definition. /. Study diligently the different lists of words commonly mispronounced. These lists are printed in various rhetorics and by publishers of dictionaries. g. Mere knowledge of the correct pronunciation does not suffice; be unerring in your practice. Watch your r's, your final g's, and give each syllable its full value. h. Constantly utilize the knowledge derived from your study of foreign languages. Even a slight study of 92 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Italian, for example, will teach you that the i that fol- lows the g is not sounded; it keep3 the g soft, as in Giovanni — pronounced Jovanni. i. Remember that considerable latitude is due to persons from certain portions of the country; we should not be too critical of the Southerner's omitted r or the Wes- terner's flattened a. C. Enunciation. A person whose voice lacks depth and carrying power often despairs of making himself heard in a large room. These limitations may be par- tially overcome by constant drill upon exercises that develop clear enunciation. This simply means that we shall become habitually attentive to such utterance of elementary sounds as will make our speech clear-cut. We must give to each letter and to each syllable appro- priate values, but we must do this without the sugges- tion of over-nicety or affectation. Any woman can learn to pronounce prunes and prisms without suggesting long curls and prolonged maidenhood. Too many of us are grossly careless in these matters; we are flagrantly inattentive to distinctions in the sound of d's and t's; we fail to differentiate s from z, b from 0, the ih in this from the th in think. We are equally negligent in giving to each vowel its correct and full-measured sound. At the same time that we offend in these matters, we are conscious of decided irritation when we try to listen to others who mumble words and garble sounds that we vainly try to pick up and reconstruct into articulate speech. Good morals, ethics, and altruism, demand that our reform be de- ORAL COMPOSITION 93 cided and immediate. There is no more excuse for slovenly speech than for slovenly dress. Poor enunciation is often aggravated in the school- room by a curiously suppressed voice. We hear the teacher say, "Speak louder, please; the class isn't hearing you." Yet we know, from later reverberations in the corridors, that there is ample potential lung power, and it is our duty to bring this into proper cooperation with an improved enunciating skill. There are definite drills that books on voice culture provide, the specific aims of which are to teach a more effective use of the organs of articulation. One un- familiar with these drills may accomplish the desired result by such an attention upon the main demand for clear and distinct tones as makes the practice ha- bitual. A few concrete suggestions follow: — o. When speaking, keep in mind the listener farthest from you. To increase the loudness of your tone may pro- duce strain; rely upon clear articulation. b. Practice full and deep breathing. c. Open your mouth wide enough to allow free exit of tones. d. Accentuate lip movements. e. Make the utterance crisp and prompt. /. Clip your end letters sharply — do not let them merge indistinctly into the next word. g. For the same reason enunciate with special care the beginning of the next word. h. Study your rate of speed and regulate it to obtain distinctness of articulation D. Voice management. Many of the suggestions just given apply to the general demand for the improve- 94 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ment of the voice, but voice management embraces more than mere enunciation. It lays strong emphasis upon that sort of cultivation that secures carrying power, flexibility, and musical quality. We sometimes wonder why those in the rear of the room complain that they do not hear us; we have tried to enunciate clearly; we have exerted ourselves to secure the proper pitch; and yet we are chagrined that the effort has accomplished incommensurate results. Our words sound shallow and nerveless. This thinness of tone can be improved by the habit of deep breath- ing, a breathing that forces the diaphragm into free play. Without this muscular action we have little tone depth; all the breathing takes place in the upper portions of the lungs and allows our tones to be shallow and vague. Vocal power is focused too near the lips; diaphragmatic breathing helps us to place the focus farther back and secure more volume and a resulting vibration that does not die a few feet from the mouth. We must remember that our vocal cords in themselves produce no sound; they are simply the strings that, set to vibrating, convey sound. We must have behind them power adequate to make this vibration strong. When we speak of the flexibility of voice, we have in mind its range from low to high — the changes in pitch of which it is capable. These changes in speaking or reading, when skillfully made, convey the emotion that momentarily dominates. We see it at its best in the case of a great actor modulating his tones in per- ORAL COMPOSITION 95 feet sympathy with the momentary passion, but there is scarcely any speaking situation in our own experi- ence that does not call for its exercise. If the student giving his oral theme speaks in monotone, — keyed too high or too low, — it is our duty and the duty of our student-critics to call attention to the fact. Sim- ilarly, one who shows skill in modulation should be freely commended. The musical quality of one's voice, while largely the gift of nature, is susceptible of wonderful development. We can so guard our breathing that there escapes only the amount of breath requisite for proper articulation. Unless the amount is kept in reserve the tones become breathy and produce the effect of strain — upon both speaker and listener. As listeners, we find ourselves swallowing frequently and breathing nervously out of sympathy for the ineffective speaker. Most of us, un- fortunately, lack those compelling charms of Cleopatra, who, having lost her breath, spoke, and panted, — That she did make defect perfection, And, breathless, power breathe forth. Musical quality may likewise be developed by rounding the tones instead of smothering them by close confinement. If we associate with cultured people most of this improvement is made unconsciously. We thus learn by imitation to prevent the harsh and nasal tones from dominating. By bringing our nature under firm control and by cultivating calmness of tempera- ment we shall quickly accentuate the improvement. 96 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH % We must remember that almost any one can make his discordant tone resonant and agreeable, but em- phasis upon this improvement most wisely falls upon the period of youth when habits are forming and when the vocal organs are more easily brought under obedience. The general and detailed suggestions that are here given we teachers shall not pour out in mass; we shall distribute them through the course as occasion de- mands and as specific violations or unusual excellen- cies invite. Our constant endeavor will be to make the criticism helpful, constructive, and personal. The establishment of high ideals for our students is neces- sary before we can get our best results; and these high ideals are — to phrase it paradoxically — the base of our criticism. It is believed that constant endeavor to attain the erected norm in oral speech will secure a greater individual mastery and a higher prevailing reverence. CHAPTER VI COOPERATION WITH OTHER DEPARTMENTS Scene. An English teacher's classroom. Geographical location. Anywhere. Time. Five p.m. any day. The English teacher, the head of his department, seated at his desk busily correcting themes. Enter the Principal, hurried and somewhat agitated. He frowns darkly and looks menacingly as he beholds a some- thing in his hand. No pause. Mr. Principal. "Look here, Mr. English, I just want to show you this paper of David Locker's. Is this the sort of English you 're teaching in this school? It would disgrace a — a — a — college notebook I I just found it in the corridor — slipped out of Mr. History's cor- rected set of papers on Hamilton's Financial Policy. Not endorsed! Written in lead pencil ! Can you read it? — Most of it's too illegible for me; but I counted five misspelled words among the few legible ones. Notice the crumpled corners! And what do you think of this sentence — Hamilton was the first Secretary of the Treasury he was from New York! No punctuation! I see it says here that he was killed July 11, 1804. Mr. History has carefully corrected this to read July 12, A few other corrections are made on certain historical items and the paper is graded B. No correction — no 98 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH comments on the English and the slovenly appear- ance." As just here a pupil entered and announced that some one wanted to speak to Mr. Principal over the telephone, the conversation was suddenly interrupted. But the head of the English department was inter- ested, and the next day he asked Miss Elliot to let him see some of David Locker's themes. Mr. English was interested in contrasting these with the paper that the principal had unconsciously left behind him on his hurried departure the night before. David's English papers were all written in ink; they were legible; they were uniformly endorsed. There were, to be sure, a few misspellings and verbal corrections on sentence structure. Most of the themes were graded C. All of these observations enforced one of Mr. English's favorite sayings, — "You get from your pupils just the sort of work you demand!" This little incident is not purely imaginary. It is being reproduced every day in a thousand schools. We should reform it altogether, as in many schools it has been reformed in part. In a previous chapter attention is called to the fact that we as English teachers have oftentimes been negligent in accepting the opportuni- ties that other departments offer us; we may here emphasize the fact that teachers in other departments are sometimes negligent in supporting the instruction in English. COOPERATION 99 None of us, it should be emphasized, are unmindful of the help that the English staff is constantly receiving from members of other departments — members de- voted to the proficiency of English as well as to their own particular subject. AH of us know teachers of history, of science, of foreign languages, of mathe- matics, and of other subjects, who are giving ungrudg- ing pains to the correction of errors both in spoken English and in written English. And while we com- mend them we assert that they are but doing their unquestioned duty V the duty which their election and their position assume. Without insistent watch- fulness upon the part of every one connected with the school, the authorities are all the while per- mitting wanton waste and extravagance — it is like trying to fill a bathtub with the stopper out. There is lamentable leakage in our English instruction at the best — the street, the illiterate home, the cheap the- ater, the cheap magazine, the general laxity in which we are all immersed. This being true, the responsibility that rests upon every member of the teaching staff — non-English as well as English — is sacred; correct- ness in the manner of expression deserves almost as much care as correctness in the matter expressed. The English teacher alone may do something. He may insist that every paper or written report or exam- ination connected with the literature assignments be carefully written in ink on uniform theme paper and conform unalterably to the same rigid demands that 100 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH are exacted in the regularly assigned compositions. All oral reports and all classroom comments must meet, as nearly as possible, the rigorous standards of the assigned oral compositions. In a word, our ideal for the entire output is a " well of English undefined." Poor English on a literature examination may alone be the legitimate excuse for the teacher's low mark. Psychological reason for this is easily demonstrated — as any one wishing authoritative assurance may readily discover by reading William James's chapter on Habit. Correct English — grammatical accuracy, conventional spelling, proper distribution of commas and semicolons and periods, accepted pronunciation, the right forms of sentence structure — these cannot be said to be successfully attained until they come to be used with some degree of automatic skill, just as a practiced typewriter spaces her words subconsciously. Suppose she did not shift the carriage of her machine except when under the surveillance of some one of the twenty or thirty persons in the office. What sort of manuscript would she produce? And how high would the employer rate her efficiency? In discussing this theme before the New York City Association of High-School Teachers of English, Mr. R. T. Congdon, Inspector of English for the State of New York, used the following illustration : — Perhaps some of you occasionally wander far enough away from New York City to have seen the rather unusual type of dam that is used in the barge canal construction work on the COOPERATION 101 Mohawk River. There is a type of dam which I shall describe as a "spoon dam" or "dipper dam." There stretches across the river a bridgelike support. Spoons or dippers swing hinge- like from this and when they are together, side by side in the stream, they constitute the dam which holds back the cur- rent. I was riding past one of these dams some time ago when I noticed that perhaps one third of the dippers were in place and I looked to see what effect this had upon the height of the water. The effect was practically nothing; the water was at almost the same height behind and at the sides of these dippers. It seems to me that this is a most apt illustration of what we are trying to do in English composition teaching. When we can, by some means or other, bring it about that all teachers as one will insist upon some standard, simple as it may be, then, and not till then, can we hope to hold back the stream of crude and ineffective English in our schools. I do not see how it is possible to do it in any other way. These are broad generalizations and most of the criticism is merely the analysis of prevailing neglects. What can we English teachers offer in the way of specific constructive criticism? For our wish is to help and not to censure. There follow a number of sugges- tions that may prove helpful to schools with no syste- matic scheme of cooperation. 1. The first suggestion is one already emphasized in Chapter IV. 'Eet English teachers in their composi- tion work — oral and written — make free use of the materials offered by the other departments. This is not merely for conciliation and cordial comradeship; it is an opportunity for us to supply our pupils with live topics. We conserve an interest already aroused and direct it into an unsuspected channel. A girl who 102 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH takes an interest in translating French will have this interest stimulated if she knows that her English teacher will, by cooperation, encourage a more accu- rate and a more elegant rendering. If she has skill in verse-making she may translate a French poem into an English poem and submit the effort as her next English theme. Knowledge that two teachers are in- terested will stimulate to stronger effort and higher attainment. 2. The English teacher may cooperate by occasional use of the textbooks used by other departments — language or history or science or mathematics. In con- nection with exposition and argumentation, the geom- etry text may be presented in a new light and the logic of argumentation significantly enforced. Some teach- ers have likewise found it extremely helpful to use it as a means to more intelligent paragraph structure. A textbook on science may be employed to illustrate how clearly the English language has been used to explain the process of oxidation, fertilization, or any one of the scores of interesting processes that are con- stantly at work in nature. Rhetorical principles such as unity, coherence, emphasis, variety in sentence structure — all these may be definitely illustrated. Or we may use the text in a literature lesson and point out the author's graphic use of words and the general effectiveness of his style. Our fundamental reason for this use of non-English texts is to enforce the idea of the infinite variety and the commanding extent of our COOPERATION 103 language. It is the great agency for making ideas pre- vail. The pupil, seeing its employment noted in the English class in all these varied ways, will begin to feel more keenly the comprehensively dominating power of the English language. Coincidentally with this, he should feel the stimulus for greater mastery and learn that opportunity for this mastery is present in every classroom — and in scores of places besides. 3. The corollary to the foregoing suggestion is the occasional use by non-English teachers of the English textbooks. History offers constant opportunity and the opportunities are exhaustless in extont and variety. From a book of selections that lies on my desk as I write, I open at random to Tennyson's The Revenge. What a splendid illumination a reading of that poem would shed over those pages of history that tell of the Spanish Armada! Yet how few history teachers know the poem, and among those who know it how few utilize it! ~Qr how many of the science teachers, I won- der, have made any use of Huxley's A Piece of Chalk. In science, likewise, the opportunities are well-nigh exhaustless. (4. At the general teachers' meeting the principal should ask a member of the English department to spend a few moments in commenting upon one or two types of recurring errors. We are assuming that every alert principal has urged each member in the corps to mark the ungrammatical forms, the misspellings, the wrong capitalizations, the illiterate punctuations, and 104 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH all other elementary errors. Is it too much to ask each teacher to help us to correct the grosser violations of sentence structure?^. Here is this persistent "run-on" sentence or the " comma blunder" — We performed the experiment, it illustrated the principles of the hydraulic press. May we not entreat the physics teacher to "blue-pencil" the comma and insert the semicolon? The English language is this teacher's class tool just as much as it is our class tool; and persistency along English lines — because it generates care and accuracy — will help him in his science instruction as much as it helps us in our English instruction. 5. All departments of a particular school should use uniform paper and encourage the habitual use of ink or type. Perhaps no scientist has yet written upon the psychology of ink. We are greatly in doubt about many things connected with it. We are not quite sure at what stage of the pupil's progress its virtue-com- pelling qualities assert their power. We simply know from experience that the command to a pupil to pre- pare his exercise in ink tends to greater care and to more accurate thinking. In abnormal cases — where circumstances allow — one can go further and order the work to be typewritten. In other instances certain pupils should take a course in printing. In The Eng- lish Leaflet for May, 1914, the correlation values of printing and English are fully elaborated by Mr. Walter S. Hinchman, of the Groton School. He writes as follows : — COOPERATION 105 The help is direct and indirect. Directly, work in the press, especially setting up type and correcting proof, teaches a boy the elementary necessities of composition far quicker than he can be taught by theme drill. A written letter carries an appeal only to the eye; a single piece of type, to be taken from its case, handled, put right side up in its proper relation to the other letters, and, finally, if it has not been correctly inserted, to be taken out of the line and replaced, makes not only a greater appeal to the eye than the written letter does, but a strong appeal to the hand; — spelling, heretofore con- fined to eye and ear, now enters by three senses. The similar aid to punctuation, indenting, neatness, and form need not be elaborated. But among these direct helps is another, less obvious, though not less important. Suppose a boy compos- itor has set the type without due attentidn to paragraphs. The corrected proof forces him, not merely to shift a single letter, but to readjust several lines; and, as he does so, he has plenty of time to work two things out in his mind : first, the reason for a paragraph, when it is giving him so much trouble; second, the realization that a scrawled sign will not correct the mistake, that only complete and painstaking revision will do. Perhaps he will query the necessity of such and such a paragraph, will make the author justify it, and will learn in the discussion a great deal more than the most sublimated lessons in Unity could inculcate. The same salutary experi- ence applies, of course, to the order of words. The work cannot be guessed at; it must be done. Besides such direct instruction, this inevitable accuracy forced upon the compositor is one of the chief indirect helps that a printing-press may give to composition. Writing immortal literature is not the province of most boys; what we are trying to teach them is accuracy — ■ how to say what they mean. And though we may accomplish a good deal by drill in our English classes, our demands are hopelessly vague and flexible compared to the inexorable demands of a machine. For it is not merely that the boy must set type correctly and wedge it accurately into the chase; he must also run the press. Let but one of the parts of that compli- cated machine get out of place — even a millimeter out of 106 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH place — and the machine stops, perhaps breaks. There can be no trifling here; no "more or less " accuracy. I have seen a boy write a comma faintly when he was not quite sure of it, as if a faint comma were not so bad as a distinct one, should the situation turn out to demand no punctuation. Such a boy may be cured by disciplinary preachments; but, to be certain of the cure, let him run a complicated machine — and experience results. In point of fact, he will not at first be allowed to run and ruin a valuable press; and it will not be difficult to let him know the reason. Then, if he is attracted at all by the work, — and most boys are, — he will somehow set vigorously about acquiring habits of precision. And though such precision in the machine shop does not always invade the boy's other activities, it ought to, and to a certain extent does. It is much more likely to pass to the pupil's composition from a press than from any other machine. Moreover, a vital connection of the one activity with the other — ■ as in a class paper, written and printed by the boys — naturally helps the contagion. 6. The teachers of other departments should hand to the English teachers papers or notebooks in which the English is markedly deficient, 1 or markedly profi- cient. Where such cooperating policy is in force the pupil has the two incentives of hope and fear — hope that it may raise his English standing, fear that it may lower it. And the English teacher should take cogni- zance of these merits and these defects in the semester's mark. Such a policy incites habitual training in liter- acy all along the line — our laureled desideratum. In some schools it is the custom to take these defects and merits in English into account in computing the 1 In cases of extreme negligence the paper should, of course, not be accepted. COOPERATION 107 semester's grade. Mr. George H. Browne, of the Browne-Nichols School at Cambridge, writes : — An English translation that is not in the English language cannot be a correct translation; an experiment described, or written out, in inaccurate English cannot be a well-done school experiment; a geometry proposition, or an algebra problem, smeared all over the paper, no matter how accurate, cannot be good school mathematics. The law of self-preserva- tion might suggest to these teachers that the summary rejec- tion of papers obviously deficient in the prime elements of decent English would be an immediate re^ef to them in the number of papers they would have to correct, and a perma- nent relief to them in the ease with which they might correct all their subsequent papers. Are the inert in this matter of the externals of English all in the pupils' desks? ... A reason- able degree of accuracy in the use of his mother tongue is no credit to a pupil; anything short of it — hitching, mumbling speech, heedless misspellings, careless omission of punctua- tion, slovenly penmanship, or otherwise disorderly manu- script, etc. — is a positive discredit to him, and lessens the value of the substance of every school exercise. To the method, however, as suggested, — forcibly remind- ing the pupil that it is worth his while to take pains, by giving his work two estimates of value, and crediting him with only the average of the two, — there are two obvious objections: some teachers do not use marks; and there is an element of injustice in discrediting admitted knowledge because of the careless or inadequate exposition of it. Not all teachers, however, who are compelled by the ex- amination system to use some kind of marks, magnify their symbols (as is alleged) into exclusive substitutes for personal criticism and encouragement. The practical effect of request- ing all teachers in a school to give, even for a short while, a double mark in the form of a fraction (of which the numer- ator may represent substance, and the denominator form), whether the two be averaged or not, has invariably been to encourage the teachers of other subjects to take equal respon- sibility with the special English teacher in inculcating the 108 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH habitual conformity to those elementary requirements of good use, of which they ought to be as good judges as he, and to the violation of which they ought to be as sensitive as the general public. The English teacher's denominator covers no more, no less, than every other teacher's; his num- erator, consequently, covering his independent subject, may include the advanced parts of it, which he often has to forego when he has to devote all his energies to the correction of Mother Tongue. "Mother Tongue" heads the list on our report cards, and a footnote explains: "The mark in this subject is the average of all the teachers' records of the pupil's painstaking in those fundamental requirements of expression, the violation of which is a discredit to every English-speaking pupil." "Mother Tongue" counts equally with Latin, Greek, French, German, or any other subject, in determining the student's standing. The practical effect of this simple device in actual operation after a short time has been that not infrequently the teacher of history, mathematics, or modern languages gets his work in better form than the English teacher himself, if the latter lets up. "It is simply schoolboy human nature to give you as slovenly and inaccurate written and spoken English as you will accept. Exact any standard, all of you as one teacher, and you will get it." l 7. The non-English teacher should freely commend the pupils whose written or oral English is exception- ally good. Are not most of us a bit miserly with our praise? We grow so accustomed to the habit of detect- ing faults that we sometimes forget that we have near at hand an effective, though unsharpened, tool for excising those faults. The explicit note of praise may unconsciously arrest many implicit errors. If teachers 1 The English Leaflet, no. 78. COOPERATION 109 in other departments would frequently comment on the clear and well-ordered English of a written report or oral explanation, the note of praise would help to improve the English tone of the school. All of us need to remember that expressions of appreciation are more vitalizing than expressions of depreciation. ^£. The school authorities, in selecting and retaining a teacher, should carefully consider each individual teacher's power in the use of oral and written English. In departments recently added to the school, authori- ties have sometimes been forced — particularly in the shop work — to employ teachers whose academic training has been scant and whose use of English is habitually faulty. These teachers, being conscious of their deficiency, should earnestly endeavor to make their daily speech conform to established use. The subtle danger of continuous lapses in this direction is a handicap which the school should not longer tolerate. Furthermore, in our own department how many of us would be proud of a stenographic report of a typical recitation that the school supervisors would make — without our knowledge or consent — on any day that they should randomly select? Such reports have been made, and several of them are printed in The English Journal. 1 Following one of these steno- graphic reports we read Superintendent Brubacher's comment : — 1 Superintendent A. R. Brubacher, The English Journal, June, 1914. 110 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Throughout this recitation there is a lack of coordination between question and answer, a failure to use words accu- rately, incompleteness of statement, and in some cases inco- herence of ideas. Observe the teacher's questions: "Another cause"; "Can you explain that a little"; "I don't under- stand what you mean"; "But that does n't explain why the people lived in cities." Is it not clear that this recitation was laboring with very imperfect tools of language? The pupil had not understood the language of the book, failed to grasp the full meaning of the questions, and failed to match his answers to the questions. And note especially the lack of fluency and completeness of statement. The teacher's own demand for high attainment of English must be rigorously met. The school author- ities must take cognizance of both merits and defects; they should grant liberal reward for exceptional merit and impose heavy penalties for serious defects. But the most exacting requirements should be self-im- posed. Every teacher should realize that his own use of our English language is going to have its insinuat- ing effects; if this teacher's mastery is exceptional, the pupils will grasp some of his power; if the teacher is lax, some of this laxity is going to endanger the Eng- lish tone of the entire school. All these various concrete suggestions merge into a single abstraction: The English of the entire school is the business of the entire school. Mr. Principal's implied criticism directed against the English department should have been directed first at himself, then at Mr. History, then at Mr. English, then to every teacher in COOPERATION 111 the school, and finally back again at himself where it should restlessly rest. His is the motive and directing power, and from him emanate the policies of the school. If his personality is strong enough, he can generate a kinetic energy that will eliminate slovenly English from every classroom. David Locker will quit handing in crumpled papers written in lead pencil. His work will no longer provoke execrations that the censor per- force must vigorously delete. CHAPTER VII GENERAL PRINCIPLES GOVERNING THE CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS In considering the selection of literary material for an English course we are at once conscious of two main lines of inquiry. One of these questions what specific literary material is to be chosen; the other questions in what school year this selected material may most advantageously be placed. As both of these problems are exceedingly complex and cannot be answered with ultimate confidence, we shall never come to regard our individual courses as being finally and satisfactorily fixed — either as to choice or arrangement of material. Yet out of all the varying complexities certain princi- ples may emerge to act as helpful guides. With the basic aims and values of the entire English course in mind, we may now ask what specific principles may help to direct the selection of this material. 1. The proper selection of literary material Most schools secure their English courses by inher- itance or by lawful borrowings. Whether such courses are to persist is dependent upon their practical ability to meet present-day needs; for the spirit of the times is disconcerting to lethargy and smug conservatism and is prone to place existing practice and selection CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 113 under close and impartial scrutiny. To the adminis- trator who inherits his English course, the truculent radical asks, " Why do you retain this rubbish? " To the borrower he asks, " Who lent you this trash? " If we are alert to the inquiry we shall to ourselves address the pertinent and specific query, "j Why are we teach- ing The Spectator Payers and The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and A Tale of Two Cities, rather than Dr. Crothers's personal essays and Chesterton's Ballad of the White Horse and George Meredith's Ordeal of Richard Fever el?" The form of the inquiry is not meant to suggest a solution; and to answer these spe- cific questions is not, indeed, our immediate task. We wish to broaden our investigation, to go back of the specific, and to discover in the lawful principles of selection an answer of wider application and of more universal guidance. There are several ideas that sug- gest themselves for specific consideration and comment. i. We need to encourage a commonalty of culture. Now that a knowledge of the stories of Homer and of Virgil is no longer assumed to be the inalienable pos- session of the pupil in secondary schools, it is worth our while to question what sort of literary knowledge may safely be taken for granted; or if not taken for granted, what sort may we wisely encourage in prac- tice. Perhaps among all the books, the safest guess about our graduates' knowledge of literature would be a reasonably intimate acquaintance with Macbeth. 114 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Now, simply because this drama is widely read and at the same time is of acknowledged excellence, it is wise to encourage its study, and make it still more widely read. In dramatic skill and portrayal of great passion, it may not be the equal of King Lear, but this is not the point. If all of us rigidly insist that Macbeth be in each secondary course of study, the high-school pupil of Oregon meeting the high-school pupil of Dela- ware, they have presumably one common ground of academic approach. And this very community of inter- est may have important socializing value. Other things being equal, therefore, those framing an English course should usually select for their classes the books that are generally read. By adherence to this principle the teachers will tend to increase a common tradi- tional culture, and pupils from varied localities will, on meeting each other, find a certain kinship in this communal knowledge. And this pleads for the retention of a small group of literary selections that will be read in practically every high school in our nation. 2. We may sometimes wish to include books full of those incidents to which many subsequent writers make frequent allusion. For this reason certain schools are not content to surrender the Iliad, the Odyssey, the JEneid, the Bible, and Pilgrim's Progress. Teachers in these schools feel that these books are so well known by our best writers that the classic incidents and char- acters are almost unconsciously alluded to in modern CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 115 writing. To miss the force of these allusions is to miss so much pleasure that we are justified in spending a good deal of school time in the mastery of these older volumes. This argument, they admit, would be in itself comparatively frail if it were hot bulwarked by the undoubted literary value of the books themselves — Pilgrim's Progress for its own English, the others for the English of the translations. This argument seems valid for certain schools, and therefore nothing need prevent the inclusion of selected parts. To include all — or even a considerable part — ■ of each would be to usurp time that rightfully belongs to other literature. Many schools, however, cannot, because of legal barriers, teach the Bible. Moreover, a large group of modern high-school pupils are so far away from the atmosphere of books and academic culture that the study of Virgil and Homer and Bun- yan would — unless vigorously and relentlessly cut — make little appeal. The time could be more wisely spent upon books that connect more closely with their current life and thought. The conclusion is that in certain schools selected portions of these classics may wisely be retained; in other schools none of the four should be included in the regular course. 3. The literature selected should be distinctly good from the standpoint of style. It is not necessary that teachers in our high schools should be able to secure from their pupils a definition or an analysis of style, but it is necessary that unconsciously the selections 116 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH which are taken up in class should tend to develop a sense of this somewhat ntangible attribute. The reader of Hawthorne's Twice Told Tales, for example, should inevitably come to feel that in the way Hawthorne constructs his sentences, in the skill whijh he shows in the selection of his adjectives and adverbs, in his secured effect of euphony, in his choice and arrangement of details — in all this, the pupil should feel that there is manifest throughout a shrewd- ness of design and an expertness of touch that are persistently shaping the excellence of the whole, and giving in consequence a feeling of artistic delight. And when the pupil turns from the Twice-Told Tales to George Eliot's Silas Marner, he should be able to dis- cover that the methods of the two writers are different, and that this difference is a desirable and natural result of two marked individualities. The pupil should gradually learn from the study of these carefully chosen books some of the more easily discernible elements of style — such as correctness, terseness, beauty, force, definiteness, resonance, and variety. He should learn to distinguish these qualities in order to secure the feeling of satisfaction which perception brings; furthermore, he should gradually be able to re-fashion some of these elements and infuse them into his own writing. Perhaps he has read, for example, one of the closing paragraphs of The Mill on the Floss — the passage that closes the account of the drowning of Tom and Maggie: — CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 117 The boat reappeared — but brother and sister had gone down in an embrace never to be parted; living through again, in one supreme moment, the days when they clasped their little hands in love and roamed the daisied fields together. \ No sympathetic reader can fail to note the rhythmic beauty of the lines; and to note this is one step toward the attainment of ease that he covets in his own un- formed style. And even if the more subtle qualities of style should wholly escape the pupil, there must almost inevitably come to the learner some well-defined no- tions of correctness and variety that invite approval and stimulate imitation. Always the reading selection is the handmaid of the composition work. As society is now constituted, the first step toward excellence is the perception of excellence in others. After this comes imitation; and after this, original creation. 4. The fact that style forms a valuable consideration suggests further that certain literature should be in- cluded on account of the direct help it offers to the con- current work in composition. As will be pointed out later, Irving and Hawthorne are of particular help in the earlier years, and Palmer's Self-Cultivation in English in the later years. Webster and Burke aid materially in original orations and in original argu- ment. The study of certain poems may incite a class to undertake the writing of simple lyrics. 5. The trend of choice should generally favor the classics. Almost every one nowadays is an avowed progressive, but many of us are progressives with a 118 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH certain well-defined qualification. We wish to make haste slowly; to advance — but to advance with cau- tion. Popularity is not necessarily synonymous with excellence; and the popular craft of the day may be the archaic derelict of the morrow. We are hearing much current talk about the element of interest; and of course we all know that interest is the first essential to instruction. But there is a strik- ing difference between the slowly aroused interest in things of sturdy and permanent worth and the interest that flashes in a transitory gleam. It is easier to read a modern popular novel than a play of Shakespeare's, but the value in the latter instance is likely to be pro- portionate to its difficulty. Wealth may sometime be secured by placer mining, but the bulk of the world's gold is embedded in quartz. The tendency of the classics, moreover, is to develop a true literary taste, to set unconsciously before the reader a safe norm for judgment. Temporarily this norm may seem a bit too high — even impossible; but it inspires a reach in the right direction, and time and maturity establish the correctness of the standard. One other argument in favor of the classics may be noted. Since the pupil is more likely to select the easy and the current on his own initiative, economy and efficiency of teaching-service urge emphasis upon the selection of the more difficult and the more perma- nent; for the currently popular are more likely to be read anyway. And as it is these classic selections that CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 119 require the most skillful aid and the finer attention, they should receive particular stress in school. Reason- able difficulty of the selection, then, combined with the favoring judgment of the past, and confidence in a maturing taste, — these should be determining factors in the selection of literary material. 6. The easy and the modern have their legitimate place, for the selections must be adjusted to the mind and taste of the pupils. The preceding section needs such a qualifying sentence as the foregoing. With the admission of the foreign pupils into our schools and with the concurrent tendency to dip down into the unlettered strata of modern society for a vast and steadily increasing influx into our high-school popula- tion, there comes an insistent demand for readjust- ment. The English course must, in specific communi- ties, be re-formed and re-graded. The reading selec- tion must be closely enough connected with the daily life and the habitual thought of the pupil to secure his attention and to create a hand-hold for his climbing interest. It is such conditions and such facts as these that justify in our modern high-school English courses — particularly in the industrial and the vocational high schools — such books as Coe's Heroes of Every-Day Life, Parton's Captains of Industry, Lane's Triumphs of Science, Lane's Industries of To-Day, Husband's America at Work, and Bolton's Girls Who Became Famous. 120 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH And furthermore, the purely academic and classical high school should not ignore the modern note. Mod- ern literature reflects life as we are living it to-day. Its problems are our problems and its emotions our emotions. And because of this inviting intimacy the present-day writers, voicing their notions in the cur- rent magazines or the modern books, quickly win our interest; and if they are wise, they ultimately enlarge our idealism. In addition to this, they redirect our thought to the fact that literature is all the while in the making, and the emerging author of to-day may become the accepted classic of to-morrow — just as Matthew Arnold in his own time was accepted as classic. It is worth our while to introduce into our regular work the study of certain well-selected maga- zines and newspapers. This periodical literature is in close and vital touch with current throbbing thought. Oftentimes it treats, in a lucid, stimulating, and sys- tematic manner, the ideas that the high-school pupil only vaguely perceives. To bring to the attention of our boys and girls this clarified expression should be one of the cherished functions of this modern English course. 7. Individual teachers should be granted special privileges in the selection of reading material. If a teacher has developed a special liking for a certain author or selection, it will often be the part of wisdom to encourage this teacher to depart from the regular plan outlined and allow him an opportunity to take up with his pupils this favorite selection. A teacher in CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 121 one of our Middle- Western high schools was a great admirer of William Morris — particularly his Sigurd the Volsung. Now, there are many literary selections that under the guidance of an ordinary teacher might have proved more stimulating to high-school juniors, but keen enthusiasm for this poem in the soul of the teacher almost uniformly aroused a corresponding enthusiasm in her classes. For this particular teacher Sigurd the Volsung was a wise selection; for another teacher it might have been unwise. The test in this case, of course, was the teacher's enthusiasm for the study; and it was worth while for the administrators of the school to extend special effort in securing an expensive text for those particular classes. And the converse is equally true. A particular crotchet in some teacher may blind her to the beauties of Blackmore's Lorna Doone and render her teaching of the novel futile or pernicious. The conclusion is obvious: to adhere rigidly to a formulated course is to miss, on the one hand, the opportunity to make use of the potential enthusiasm of the teacher, and to run the risk, on the other hand, of spoiling for a class a worthy book because its mes- sage and tone clash with the temperament or the crotchet of the biased teacher. 8. The English course should provide a variety of literary types. A true education encourages a versa- tility of tastes and offers a considerable range of material. This variation and breadth are particularly 122 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH desirable in the English course. The National Confer- ence on Uniform Entrance Requirements in English names six distinct groups: (1) the classics in transla- tion (including the Stories of the Old Testament, the Odyssey, the Iliad, and the Mneid) ; (2) the Shakespeare group; (3) prose fiction; (4) essays and biography; (5) oratory; and (6) poetry. And of course many of these are capable of various subdivisions. We need all these varied types of literature in order to give to our pupils some conceptions of the compre- hensiveness of our literary storehouse. But we need it for a stronger reason — we desire to let them test their own tastes in these different realms, and, with proper limitations, to find in the type they like best, their keenest pleasure and their highest inspiration. Poetry of intangible texture may offer no allurement to the stalwart youth just arrived from the farm, the shop, or the football field. Very well. Try a story or a novel or an essay that offers valuable information. Get some grasp on the boy's native interest; lead him to see strength and beauty in unsuspected realms. He is not necessarily averse to English study simply because Keats's Ode to a Nightingale has just now no message for him. Treasure Island may have. Start with that and lead him elsewhere. And the girl whose innate interest is in poetry, needs just as much a guidance into other realms — into the realm of the essay, for example, where thought dominates over emotion and where logic is more significant than fancy. CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 123 Nor is the desire to include these varied types dic- tated alone by the desire to arouse an undeveloped interest and the desire to balance an over-developed interest. True culture demands an acquaintance with all these literary forms. If we want our pupils to know the best that has been known and thought in the world we shall need to guide them into these different realms. They should find, moreover, that their own varying moods will at one time select poetry, at an- other time fiction, at another a still different type. The teacher with all these varied types within easy access is like an organist at the console. With pipes and keys at his command his skill can summon forth whatever melody the occasion invites. A similar privilege may await the pupil. 9. The student should be introduced to literature displaying various moods. Differing from the question of varied types, but oftentimes dependent partially upon them, is the question of varied moods. Our natures are so constructed that they cannot long enjoy any art appeal that dwells too long upon the same mood; we yearn for relief, whether it be from contin- ued tragedy or continued comedy. The literature ad- justment should therefore allow this relief by provid- ing selections of varied moods. We should welcome to our course such elements as the mystic, the fanciful, the whimsical, the idealistic, the realistic, the super- natural, the spiritual, the tragic, the comic, and all the manifold human phases that the great masters have 124 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH portrayed. It is especially desirable that we should not ignore the humorous. We should not be so im- mersed in the seriousness of our work as to let ear- nestness of endeavor prevent frequent and adequate paus r , upon the humor displayed. 10. The acquired reputation or the historical signifi- cance of a particular book may sometimes suggest its inclusion in the course. It often happens that a book has acquired a reputation which is out of proportion to its current appeal. Such a book is Bunyan's Pil- grim's Progress. Contrasted with such a novel as Dickens's Tale of Two Cities, the interest in Pilgrim's Progress is slight; but its fame suggests that we give it some attention. We discover, when we do this, that the simplicity of its style, its evident earnestness, and its vivid portrayal of incident are elements that still win the quiet and tempered approval of the high-school pupil. The pupil learns, moreover, that the book has had a tremendous influence on world thought and on world life, and he is usually glad that his attention has been directed to those elements in the story that have now this general approval. Again, such a poet as Pope has but scant interest for the student in our modern secondary schools. Yet Pope's place in literary history is so secure and so sig- nificant that to ignore his work entirely would be to leave the pupil unacquainted with one of the controll- ing forces of the Queen Anne period. In some schools, however, matters more elementary demand so much CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 125 more time and deserve so much more attention that it may often be wiser to omit from the course such authors as Bunyan or Pope. ii. The literary selection must breathe the right ethical and social message. All the other postulates in this enumeration are of little value if throughout the choice the one controlling motive has not been the stimulation of the pupil's moral nature. Our most important task in teaching is the building of character, and our most effective agency is the literary selection. Pupils may not enjoy abstract preaching — especially if it is directed straight at them. On the other hand, they delight to see, upon the stage of action, right in contest with wrong. The open and the straightforward methods that the hero employs win quick allegiance and constant sympathy. In such contests as these, and in a thousand other ways, the men and women who have written books have unconsciously strengthened the moral fiber of their readers; and who can gainsay the aid such examples have proved? To have these matters talked over sympathetically in class, to call out the views of the various members, to invite their confidence, and to offer them guidance — what Eng- lish teacher does not cherish this as the best portion of his chosen work? It is not to be assumed that the many principles here set forth are all applicable to each individual school. Conditions differ so widely that universal application of all these suggestions is not possible. Each school 126 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH must work out its own course, getting what help it can from the general experience of a larger group, but making its decision with local conditions prominently in mind. The decision of to-day, however, will alter with the changing conditions of to-morrow. 2. The 'proper placing of literary material When we have established the principles that shall govern our choice of literary material, there still re- mains the very insistent inquiry concerning the distri- bution or placing of our selections. We wish to teach such varied types as the drama, the novel, the short- story, the letter, the essay, the biography, the oration, and the various forms of poetry. We wish also to teach something about the men and movements that gave character to American and to English literature. Furthermore, we wish to meet appropriately and op- portunely the lawful demands of life and the lawful demands of the colleges. Urged by these complex motives what shall direct our decision? There are four considerations that aid us in the arrangement: (1) ad- justment to the degree of maturity; (2) choosing selec- tions that will aid the composition work; (3) providing for alternatives and variety; and (4) chronological sequence. 1. The simplicity of childhood welcomes simplicity of utterance, and if we are selecting material for the twelve-year-old of the six-year high school or the fourteen-year-old of the four-year high school we shall CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 127 keep prominently in mind this element of simplicity. We shall remember at the same time that it must not be too simple — not so simple in grasp as to incite no reach; not so easy as to develop no brain fabric. The normal taste of these earlier years favors the simple narrative full of rapid action and stirring adventure and dominated by the kind of elemental passions so admirably depicted by Cooper, Stevenson, Scott, and London. Then, as the pupil advances in his course, he will accept the various sorts of literary material that accords with his developing thought and emotion. For the first years of the high school some schools find it profitable to make their selections largely from American literature. They do this because they wish to acquaint their students with the main trend of our literary development and to study the men who have contributed most liberally to this enrichment of na- tional culture. Before this work is summarized in the tenth grade, the teacher wishes the pupil to know something of such men as Cooper, Irving, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Whittier, Bryant, Poe, and Lowell. Another principle of selections for these earlier years — particularly the tenth grade — is emphasis upon patriotic ideals. We have in Lowell, Lincoln, Whitman, and Emerson splendid utterances that stir our young people to a perception of this patriotic and social ideal. Lessons of commanding import may here be most profitably taught. At this critical age our boys and girls are just entering into their initial young 128 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH manhood and womanhood. The boy is restive if not rebellious, the girl is full of sentiment if not of senti- mentality. It is therefore necessary that the literature should, with the strength of its appeal and the nobility of its challenge, direct these boys and girls into the safe paths that lead up to a more commanding outlook. Wise reading and discussion of these patriotic and social messages are here our most valuable guides. As the pupil grows older, such appeals as come from the reading of A Tale of Two Cities, Silas Marner, Henry Esmond, The Idylls, Coriolanus, and Macbeth become strong; they inspirit and arouse all the finer sensations of their maturing natures. The sacrifice of Sydney Carton, the complexity of Beatrice Esmond, the indecision of Godfrey Cass, the bravery and pride of Coriolanus, the tragedy of Macbeth's unworthy ambition, and the varied feelings that manifest them- selves in the experiences of Lancelot — all these make their deep impress and call out appropriate stricture or approval. We see earnest youths and maidens at- tempting to keep themselves erect by earnestly cher- ishing those ideals which their literature assignment supplies. 2. At the same time that we are studying literature, we shall, all through our high-school course, want to make the literature work pay its constant but inci- dental tribute to the composition work. We shall accordingly find it profitable, in the earlier years of the high school, to make use of the simpler work of CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 129 Irving and Hawthorne and Poe. The Sketch, Book, Tales of a Traveler, Bracebridge Hall, The Wonder- Book, Twice- Told Tales, Mosses from an Old Manse, The Gold Bug, and The Purloined Letter, provided the novelty has not been worn away by their use in the grammar grades, will here be a valuable aid. While we shall never lay so much stress upon the composition elements as to destroy appreciation of the literary ele- ments, we shall, nevertheless, allow this mutual help to influence the choice of our literature throughout our course. In the eleventh or twelfth grade, for example, when our boys and girls are somewhat surer of them- selves, they may be given harder tasks. They are usually prepared to enter upon a more serious study of English literature and to grapple with more difficult composition problems. The reading of the longer es- says and poems will not look so ominous and baffling, and the long composition will not seem so impossible. Many high-school teachers have found that the study of Palmer's Self -Cultivation in English is at once a challenge and a stimulus to students in the eleventh grade. The thought and the vocabulary are a trifle difficult, but the message incites them to greater mas- tery of English. It affords, moreover, by its faultless structure, a model of great value in the writing of a long essay. 3. We should so arrange our materials as to avoid tedium — prolonged delay upon any one literary type or mood. Attention to this principle of variety will 130 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH therefore help to direct the distribution of the selected literary material. We shall not want to spend one year upon Shakespeare, another year upon lyric poetry, another year upon the drama. We shall want to in- clude all these types in our course, but we shall not delay too long upon any one. Other conditions per- mitting, alternation between prose and poetry is usu- ally desirable. It is equally desirable, too, that there should be, as we previously pointed out, frequent varia- tion in the moods of the literary selection. Hawthorne and Poe should not, as a rule, be studied in immediate sequence. 4. The study of English literature in the senior year can be more systematically carried out by trying to follow the men and movements by centuries. A word about conditions preceding the fourteenth century, a pause on Chaucer, a brief mention of Malory, that recalls his influence on the Idylls, and then we are within that rich domain of the Elizabethan age with all its varied phases — wit, badinage, subtlety, chiv- alry, flattery, brigandage, piracy, adventure, necro- mancy, scholarship, charlatanism — these and a hun- dred more faults and virtues boldly displayed on a huge sixteenth-century etagere. We shall delay longest upon Shakespeare and then shall go on to Milton, Dryden, and the eighteenth century. We must not, however, delay so long that we shall have to neglect or slight the master men of the nineteenth century — Words- worth, Lamb, Coleridge, Shelley, Keats, Byron, Car- CHOICE OF LITERARY SELECTIONS 131 lyle, Macaulay, Browning, Tennyson, and Arnold. Browning may be made the greatest eye-opener of them all. The power of literature will be shown in an entirely new display, and vice and virtue will be seen under more microscopic and more intelligent scrutiny. But each of the other great men of the Victorian age will likewise be studied long enough to reveal his most obvious characteristics. The result of the senior year's study should be to give the student a clearer chronological view of English literature, to set into clear perspective the relative importance of the various men, the significance of the more prominent movements, and — most important of all — to develop in each pupil a higher valuation of the aesthetic and ethical appeal in English poetry and in English prose. After all this is said, however, it must be freely ad- mitted that the ultimate controlling force in literature teaching is — as it has been so often disclosed — the personality of the teacher. Following the very safest principles and guides, the teacher without force and magnetism may fail; violating the same safe principles and guides, the teacher with commanding individual- ity may, by the very power of his genius, succeed with any book he selects and by any method he adopts. But by following the safe principles, the forceless teacher may be saved from complete failure and the forceful teacher may be led to supreme success. 132 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH The enumeration and the discussion of these princi- ples that may properly influence the selection and dis- tribution of literary material will not solve the prob- lem for each administrator of a given English course. Such is not the design. The comment is intended merely to arouse inquiry and direct individual judg- ment. Where each school has its particular problems, — oftentimes conflicting and intricate in the extreme, — it is impossible that any set of directions, however detailed and comprehensive, should provide a definite plug for each definite socket. Such a scheme would forestall thought and crush initiative. It is our hope that some of these ideas may implicitly contain a germ of truth or incentive which each framer of an English course may develop into explicit form — a form that bears the token of a personal struggle and a personal triumph. CHAPTER VIII THE TEACHING OF POETRY, WITH PARTICULAR ATTENTION TO THE LYRIC The charm of poetry is so subtle and so illusive when we try to capture it and subject it to analysis, that many find their most baffling task to be the teach- ing of the lyric. They sympathize with that admirer of Browning's Abt Vogler who was asked to explain the passage: — And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, but a star. " Why," this admirer answered in some surprise, " there 's nothing to explain; it 's all there." To those pupils of quick and undeviating instinct, it is all there, and no word of comment or explanation need be spoken; but to many in the class the elements of beauty are so unreal, so unsubstantial, so far aloof from the channeled grooves of thinking and feeling, that the task of teaching appreciation of lyric beauty is fraught with unusual difficulties and perplexities. To lessen some of these difficulties and to reduce the possibility for failure, there is need for the most careful inquiry. The several suggestions here offered may possibly be of some help if readjusted to the conditions of the individual class or school. 134 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH i. We must, in the first place, ascertain the present poetical taste of our groups and start our work from the pupils* plane. Teachers too often make the mis- take of trying to impose their own matured tastes upoD an undeveloped class. This is particularly fatal in teaching lyric poetry; the charm of the selection must win its insinuating way to unopposed approval. It will be difficult to select at the beginning of the autumn work anything too simple. Something from Eugene Fields or James Whitcomb Riley will be suit- able and will be almost sure to interest the entire class. The thought and feeling dominating the poems of these two men are appropriate and safely within the comprehension of all. The poetical expression is al- most invariably faultless in its easy technique. Other poets — Whittier, Longfellow, and Bryant — offer, of course, selections of equal simplicity and charm. Our teaching skill in the beginning lies in the wisdom of our choice. 2. We may, in the very beginning, assume that the . 3 poetical appeal is universal. Some boys may feel — I or affect to feel — an aversion for poetry. But this feeling is usually due to the fact that teachers have tried to impose upon them something too fragile, or too involved, or too mature. By reading the right selection — something swinging and something con- crete — the teacher will be able to escape the subjec- tive and make the pupil see that after all there is something appealing in verse and that a dislike for THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 135 poetry is just as abnormal as a dislike for music. Nature, it must be remembered, has provided for sympathetic response to simple rhythmic expression; to keep this in true and exact equipoise we must re- move all disturbing influences and give the instru- ment of appreciation free and unrestricted play. 3. Dwell long enough on rhythm to convince the class of its basic design and worth in poetry. With the more mature classes it may be interesting to call attention to the fact that this rhythmic quality was early recognized as one of the joy-contributing sen- sations in nature; it was felt to exist in the swaying branches of the willow tree, the ebb and flow of ocean tides, the slowly varying phases of the moon, and in the thousand recurrent pulsations in the universe of sound. Primitive man re-created it first in dance and song and chant, and from these manifestations poetry naturally emerged. External nature met an impulse in human nature — and there came the inherent de- mand to throw sound into recurrent accent and strike a satisfying tempo. The sounds may come to us in jumbled form or in sedate monotony, and at once our instinctive effort is to secure a tuneful cosmos from the untuneful chaos. Thus, if you listen long enough to a cataract you may usually catch the hid- den, lurking cadence that brings abundant pleasure. You will even create some sort of gratifying varia- bility from the absolute regularity of the ticking of a clock. It is therefore easily apparent that when words 136 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH are set into rhythmic order, they need carry no im- portant sense content in order to secure a welcome — more particularly if the recipient be primitive or juvenile in his tastes. This the popularity of Mother Goose melodies and the counting-out jingles abun- dantly prove. We still find a quiet sort of joy in re- peating such rhymes of our childhood as this bit of nonsense: — Hickory, dickory dock, The mouse ran up the clock. Or the following counting-out rhyme: — Eni, meni, mini moe; Catch a feeny, fini foe; Mamma nuja, papa tuja; Ric, bic, ban, doe. As long as we are human we shall extract a certain joyful response from that line of outlandish Greek in which the genius of Aristophanes imitated the rhythmic croaking of the frogs, and thus successfully antici- pated by approximately twenty-two hundred years the dithyramb ic note in the modern college yell: — Brecheche, kex, koax, koax, brecheche, kex, koax, koax. The words, however, may be good words and sen- sible, and still in combination be as inane, yet rhyth- mically satisfying, as this counting-out doggerel or this Greek imitation. Note, for example, the effect of the following: — Come flit in the filmy fortnight, With gowns all gray with gore; While sea-horses bleat in the barley. Or browse on the cellar door. THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 137 Although this is pure nonsense it nevertheless gives a certain rhythmic satisfaction because the tempo is absolutely correct — just as the tempo (if nothing else) is always faultless in ragtime. No poet of our own cen- tury has recognized this principle more fully than Kip- ling. Witness this from the Barrack Room Ballads : — So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy- Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan: You're a poor benighted 'eathen, but a first-class fightin' man; So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy- Wuzzy, with your 'ay rick 'ead of 'air — You big black boundin' beggar — for you bruk a British square! When in Dryden's Ode in Honor of St. Cecilia's Day we come to a higher type of poetry than these foregoing passages, though the attempt is still delib- erately imitative, — the imitation of musical instru- ments, — we are still within the willing thralldom of rhythm : — The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms, With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double, double, double beat Of the thundering drum Cries, "Hark! the foes come: Charge, charge, 't is too late to retreat!" But rhythm reaches its highest poetical function, as will later be explained, when it passes beyond the pale of deliberate imitation into the nobler realm of suggestion. Southey's imitation of the turbulence of the cataract of Lodore is clever — clever by a certain obvious tour de force; but Tennyson's magnificent re-creation of the placid and quiescent in Crossing the 138 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Bar is accomplished by a finely wrought suggestion, through harmony of tone and balance, that genius alone could compass and direct. And those of us who love the sounds of the shore — sweet though in sad- ness — will read with recurring pleasure this stanza from Thomas Bailey Aldrich's Voices of the Sea, with its slowly beating rhythm suggestive of the constantly repeated advance and recession of ocean waves : — In the hush of the autumn night I hear the voice of the sea, In the hush of the autumn night It seems to say to me — Mine are the winds above, Mine are the caves below, Mine are the dead of yesterday And the dead of long ago. It is by lingering upon such passages as these which we have been quoting that the student will be insin- uatingly led into the appreciation of the rhythmic beauty of poetry. 4. The relationship of rhyme to poetry must be dwelt upon — especially with the more mature classes. There is something in our inner being that impels to order and regularity. Rhythm, with rhyme as its accompaniment, becomes more obvious, and the flow of its recurrent syllables grows more distinct and emphatic. But rhyme does more than clarify and em- phasize rhythm; it creates a new euphonic interest. Pleasure results when the mind, instinctively adjusting itself to the perceived device, has its sense of antici- pation gratified. The effect is most quickly realized THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 139 when the rhyming words come close together, as in our juvenile verse: — Old Mother Hubbard She went to the cupboard. Recently one of our freshmen in the high school threw his tribulations into a somewhat similar rhyme scheme: — Hully gee! If you were me, Freshman, in Division C, Had to write an English theme, Could n't get a single gleam; What in thunder would you do, As you thought the matter through, What in thunder, would you do? This same easy flow, however, is apparent in lyrics of even the most elevated type; like this from Shelley: , Arethusa arose From her couch of snows In the Acroceraunian mountains, — From cloud and crag, With many a jag Shepherding her bright fountains. As civilization advanced and as the taste for reci- tation grew, more elaborate rhyme schemes were introduced. It was an easy transition from the coup- let to the quatrain rhyme, illustrated by the simple ballads: — As Robin Hood in the forest stood All under the green-wood tree, There he was aware of a brave young man, As fine as fine might be. From this the development continued, aided by the Renaissance movement and the accompanying 140 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH interest in Greek and Latin meters, to such elaborate forms as the Spenserian stanza, the Pindaric ode, and such fixed forms as the sonnet, the triolet, the villa- nelle, the rondel, the rondeau, the ballad, and such other elaborations as English, French, and Italian ingenuity could devise. Suffice it to say, however, that interest in these more intricate forms is confined to specialists and those interested in technique. The general public has always preferred the simple rhyme scheme with the easily anticipated recurrences. The same thing has happened here as always happens — the moment art begins to exist for its own self, and not as a means to a nobler ethical or aesthetic end, it loses itself in overadroit ingeniousness or in highly wrought elaboration, and in the process alienates its natural clientele. The listener who has his attention unfortu- nately directed to the wonderfully clever artifice of the verse at once begins to lose the thought of the poem. It is far better, then, to ignore rhyme entirely — as Collins did in his Ode to Evening, as Matthew Arnold did in Rugby Chapel, as the best free-verse writers are doing — than to employ it merely for deft refinement and technical complexity. But when simply and skill- fully used, rhyme is unquestionably one of the poet's most efficient tools. 5. Teach only the more important metrical and stanzaic forms. As it is always the spirit rather than the form of matter that we wish to bring out, we shall habitually find it best to pause briefly upon metrical THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 141 and stanzaic forms. Most teachers prefer to teach only the four most commonly used metrical feet; iambus, trochee, anapest, and dactyl. The number of feet in the line is most simply distinguished by number merely. If there are five iambic feet, pupils may simply call the line iambic five, though the Greek equivalents are not difficult and some teachers like to teach them. Of the various stanzaic forms it will be sufficient to teach only the quatrain, the heroic couplet, blank verse, Spenserian stanza, terza rirna, and the sonnet. 1 6. The older pupils may be taught something of the value of tone color. This element — or quality rather — is variously known as onomatop&ia, tonality, or tone color. It has to do with the subtle accord and nice correspondence of sound to sense. Sometimes the effect is so delicately diffused that it is like the wafted odor of the pastoral eglantine, or the aroma arising from the spiced dainties brought from silken Samarcand, or the traditional flavor of Chian wine. We feel it in Tennyson's Morte d' Arthur in the bold answer of Sir Bedivere: — I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds. We catch the melody of it in Dryden's Ode in Honor of St. Cecilia's Day : — 1 For full information upon these technical points cf. Brander Matthews's A Study of Versification. Houghton Mifflin Company. 142 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH The soft complaining flute In dying notes discovers The woes of hopeless lovers Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute. Again its presence pervades the chorus of Swin- burne's Atalanta in Calydon : — When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces. The mother of months in meadow and plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain. And nowhere is it more subtly conveyed than in Tennyson's matchless lyric, Crossing the Bar. An examination of the mechanism of those pas- sages which are rich in tone color reveals the poten- tial art in vowel and consonantal arrangement. The softer sounds and the quieter moods are won by the long, open vowels in combination with the liquid con- sonants, I, to, to, and r. Note the effect in Swinburne's elegy, Ave Atque Vale : — Shall I strew on thee rose or rue or laurel, Brother, on this that was the veil of thee? Or quiet sea-flower moulded by the sea, Or simplest growth of meadow-sweet or sorrel* Such as the summer-sleepy dryads weave, Waked up by snow-soft sudden rains at eve? In contrast to this melodious effect, turn to Tenny- son's translation of the Anglo-Saxon poem, The Battle of Brunanburgh and note that the tone desired is harsh and chaotic; this is secured by the short, closer vowels in combination with the hard consonants: — Many a carcase they left to be carrion, Many a livid one, many a sallow-skin — THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 143 Left for the white-tail'd eagle to tear it, and Left for the homy-nibb'd raven to rend it, and Gave to the garbaging war-hawk to gorge it, and That gray beast, the wolf of the weald. We catch the spirit of the bleak winter as we listen to Robert Burns reflect his sympathy for the ourie cattle in the cheerless season : — When biting Boreas, fell and dovre, Sharp shivers through the leafless bower; When Phoebus gies a short-lived glower Far south the lift, Dim darkening through the flaky shower, Or whirling drift. 7. Call attention to the wonderful power of con- centrated but restrained passion. The power of poetry becomes greatest when the poet's spiritual emotion is most intense. At certain rare moments genius has bequeathed to our bards certain wonderful moods or ideas and has wedded them with such inevitable phrasings that the resulting passages are laden with a rapturous intensity that is but dimly conscious of sensory imagery or objective beauty or any close association with the carnal and the actual. Instead, it escapes into an ill-defined but very wondrous spirit- ism — the mood that Poe defined as the " elevating excitement of the soul." It is spiritual exhalation of the highest order. To extract such lines from their con- text and induce them to convey the intensity which inheres in their natural place is impossible. But some of the lines are so transcendent that their resident potentiality is felt even in their isolation. 144 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH When Mildred Tresham, the fourteen-year-old heroine of Browning's Blot in the 'Scutcheon, comes to the terrible realization that in her passionate love for her betrothed she has surrendered her maiden virtue, she voices her anguish in these simple words: — I was so young! Beside, I loved him, Thorold — and I had No mother; God forgot me: so, I fell. Simple, tragic, terrible — all compassed and re- vealed in these intense lines. Matthew Arnold has called attention to that viv- idly significant line in Wordsworth's Michael that suggests in so short a space the mood which the old shepherd, sorrowing for an absent son, felt as he goes out to try to finish the building of the sheepfold wall which father and son had begun together. The deso- late countryman surrendered to his mood, — And never lifted up a single stone. When we have read through Milton's Paradise Lost, and have followed Adam and Eve through their moments of happiness, temptation, and sorrow, we come finally to that tragic close which recounts their expulsion from the Garden in a passage whose very restraint intensifies the emotion: — Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide: They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow. Through Eden took their solitary way. THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 145 When William Wordsworth in retrospect looked out of his college window in Cambridge and saw, in the yard below, the chapel that contained the statue of Sir Isaac Newton, he thought of all that this great man had accomplished in the realm of science. As the poet gazed in fancy upon that chiseled face, the generated ecstasy of the poet linked itself with the power of immortal phrasing, and he wrote: — Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind for ever Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone — Such passages as these, and scores of others that we might select, reflect an unusual power of spiritual insight, combined with an artist's phrasing skill. There results that inevitable touch which gives per- manent literary value. And to bring to the young student an appreciation of these values, to teach him a reverence for them, to guide him in such a way as to make his soul delicately responsive to their ap- pearance in the new as well as to their reappearance in the old — this is the high privilege of the teacher of literature. 8. In cultivating appreciation, few things are more helpful than deliberate pause upon phrases of special felicity. It is a mistake to assume that all manifesta- tions of beauty will be perceived by the pupil. It has been said that it required a Ruskin to teach the English people a real appreciation of the beauty of cloud effects. We should encourage a fitting pause upon 146 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH phrases of unusual beauty or effectiveness. These phrases may be marked by wondrous euphony, as in Poe's lines — To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome; or by a single suggestive epithet, as in Arnold's Self- Dependence — From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven; or by deft portrayal of a detail, as in Meredith's picture of the swallow, in Love in the Valley — Swift as the swallow along the river's light, Circleting the surface to meet his mirrored winglets; or by a happy touch of enchantment, as that felt in that portion of the Ode to a Nightingale which describes the power of the bird's melody — that oft-times hath Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Such passages as these supply the student with some of the norms of which Arnold speaks in his essay on The Study of Poetry. They direct attention to the skill which master craftsmanship may compass, whether by the power of genius or by attained skill. By calling attention to the effectiveness of such concrete passages as they occur in the reading, the teacher will be es- 1 tablishing standards of taste and judgment. We shall take earnest precaution that the process is not carried so far as to entangle the students " in the cobwebs of the schools." THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 147 9. Emphasize the poet's power to make us imagine wide extents of space. Coleridge writes of the Ancient Mariner as being Alone on a wide, wide sea So lonely 't was that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. Milton gives us that magnificent conception of the wandering moon. Riding near her highest noon Like one that had been led astray Through the heavens' wide pathless way. And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud. Bayard Taylor expressed this largeness of view in his apostrophe to the clouds : — Bathed in the tenderest purple of distance, Tinted and shadowed by pencils of air, Thy battlements hang o'er the slopes and the forests. Seats of the gods in the boundless ether, Looming sublimely aloft and afar. Barry Cornwall notes this same enlarging sense in the sea: — the sea! the open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies. Once the reader is made to see in his mind and to feel in his soul the invigoration that comes with this enlarged vision, he will begin to have that high rev- erence for creation which is the necessary accompani- ment of appreciation of poetry. 148 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 10. Consider carefully the individual approach to each assigned poem. The teacher who does not take particular pains in the assignment of the work and determine the best method of attack, is pretty sure to fail in his endeavor to arouse enthusiasm for his work. Many poems, such as The Star-Spangled Banner, Highland Mary, Kubla Khan, and Herve Riel, were composed under special circumstances and have there- fore an external interest that to some members of the division will perhaps make a stronger appeal than does the internal interest. It is worth while to tell the class — or send them to a source where they themselves can read of it — the simple account that Mrs. Shelley gives of the skylark that suggested to Shelley the theme and spirit of his delicate lyric: " It was on a beautiful sum- mer evening, while wandering near the lanes whose myrtle hedges were bowers of fireflies, that we heard the carolling of the skylark which inspired one of the most beautiful of his poems." Or refer the pupils to Tennyson's biography (written by his son) to learn the interesting external facts about Crossing the Bar. 1 In a stimulating discussion of this same theme Pro- fessor H. G. Paul, of the University of Illinois says: — In preparing to discuss Rossetti's Blessed Damozel, I have given pupils Mr. Hall Caine's well-known statement regard- ing Rossetti's indebtedness to Poe's Raven and have asked for a comparison of the two poems. Then, too, the teacher may occasionally suggest some source of a lyric and ask for 1 Alfred Lord Tennyson: A Memoir by his Son, vol. n, p. 366. THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 149 a comparison between the poem studied and this source; as, for example, What does II Penseroso owe to the song in Fletcher's Nice Valour? or, What was Vaughan's influence upon Wordsworth's great Ode? or, How did Sidney expand his beautiful My True Love Hath My Heart, which he en- larged to a sonnet and inserted in the text of his Arcadia; and did he thus improve it? Again, questions which send the pupil to a larger text, and thus tempt him to further reading, are especially worth seeking and using. Thus, such lyrics as Where the bee sucks may induce even the lazier members of the class to spend some time with The Tempest. I have fre- quently enjoyed asking pupils studying Shakespeare's lyrics, whether the singer of Take, take those lips away, is a man or a woman; then, after allowing the discussion to wax warm for a while, as it invariably does to send them to Measure for Measure for the answer. 1 Where there is nothing of this sort to beget an in- terest, the pupils may be asked to write out one or two salient impressions of a poem, to compare or contrast two poems, to ascertain any resemblances that may exist between this poem and some novel or short story, to write the substance of a short poem out in prose and question why the ideas were put into metrical form — any specific demand that will stimulate in- telligent reading. I have frequently aroused the more lethargic by some such specific assignment as this: "In a letter to one of your intimate friends who has not read the Ode on a Grecian Urn write such a com- ment as will give him a clear idea of the poem and will make him wish to read it." i Bulletin of the Illinois Association of Teachers of English, November 15, 1915, and The English Journal, October, 1912. 150 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH ii. Bring out the central thought or emotion. While the lyric is by its very nature concerned vitally with the portrayal of emotion, we must not ignore the thought appeal. The Ode to the West Wind is emotional in the extreme, and appreciation of its poetry requires a sympathetic understanding of feelings that domi- nated Shelley while he wrote. But this does not deter us from an examination of the intellectual notion that lies at the base, and to the discovery of this we may therefore address our direct inquiry. Analysis shows us that Shelley, feeling the restrictions that chain his proud and tameless spirit, asks help and release from the West Wind, who is near enough like him in passion and spirit to sympathize and understand. Shelley's prayer is that the West Wind will be the messenger that will carry his poetical ideas to all mankind. The thought is in itself not difficult for the pupil, but for interpretative purposes it needs to be shorn of some of its more elaborate phrasing. Understanding this thought we can better understand the poet's emotion. 12. Some pupils will be interested in discovering possibilities for the topical division of certain poems. Such a poem as Shelley's To a Skylark, or his Ode to the West Wind are rather easily reduced to topical form. The thought is developed with mathematical precision, as is easily seen in analysis. I am repro- ducing the analysis I have used elsewhere. 1 * Selected Lyrics, R.L.S. no. 218, pp. 124, 127. THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 151 To a Skylark Lines 1- 30: The surroundings and the song. 31- 60: The bird described by similes. 61- 80 : The reasons suggested for the bird's happi- ness and joyous singing. 81-105 : The happiness of the bird contrasted with the unhappiness of men. Ode to the West-Wind Stanzaic Group I: The effect of the wind upon the leaves. Stanzaic Group II: The effect of the wind upon the clouds. Stanzaic Group III: The effect of the wind upon the waves. Stanzaic Group IV: The poet's prayer that he may be a leaf, a cloud, a wave. Stanzaic Group V: His preference, selected from the three, is to be like the leaves and perform a similar mission. It is easily apparent that most poems do not readily t lend themselves to this topical form. To attempt to place them in a Procrustean bed is the sheerest folly. Where such a division was in the poet's own mind, however, the discovery of the division is merely a part of the process of interpretation. 13. Take pains in clearing up difficulties in the phrasing, particularly the inverted order. We must never forget that, from the learner's viewpoint, poeti- cal phrasing is often unreal. The exigencies of poetry often demand that, for the sake of the rhythm or the meter or the rhyme, the natural prose order be vio- lently changed. Note Gray's familiar lines, — Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds. 152 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH It is perhaps an open question whether air is subject or object. Does the air hold the stillness; or does the still- ness hold the air ? Simply because air comes first in the sentence, the young student is almost sure to consider air as subject. Perhaps it is; perhaps it is not. Which interpretation, you may ask each student, makes the strongest appeal to you personally? A more difficult passage for the pupil is in Keats's Ode on a Grecian Urn, where the poet is describing the wondrously happy love of the pictured youth and maiden: — More happy love! more happy, happy love! . . . For ever panting and forever young; All breathing human passion far above, That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed, A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. The natural tendency of young readers is to take this in its natural order and try to make breathing modify love. Some pupil of quicker insight, who is more famil- iar with the ways of poets, will see, however, that Keats is describing a particularly high type of love — a love far above all breathing human passion. Always difficulties such as these are arising, and con- tinually the teacher is too likely to think that because the meaning is so obvious to him, it must surely be obvious to the pupils; but these pupils, we must re- member, have had a comparatively brief experience in reading poetry and have not attained the expert's power and knowledge. There are mysteries Uranian as well as mysteries Eleusinian. THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 153 I remember distinctly my first experience with the opening lines of Lowell's Cathedral : — Far through the memory shines a happy day, Cloudless of care, down-shod to every sense, And simply perfect from its own resource. The phrase down-shod proved recalcitrant; it meant nothing. I re-read the passage, and still the meaning was obscure. A fellow instructor of English chanced to call upon me in the midst of my effort, and I eagerly sought his aid. After some moments of intense study he admitted that the phrase completely baffled him, and reluctantly we abandoned the task of interpreta- tion. When he had gone, however, I centered my clos- est attention upon the defying phrase — down-shod to every sense. Suddenly the meaning flashed itself upon me — shod with feathery down, hence soft and yielding — responsive. The experience enforced this truth: The meaning in a given passage is usually clear if we vouchsafe to the task of interpretation the deserved measure of patience and concentration. And this les- son we should continually teach to our pupils. 14. One of the valuable aids to interpretation is oral reading. Oral reading is of constant value in the English course, but it is of particular value in the study of dramatic, narrative, and lyrical poetry. The prac- tice harks back to the primitive age when languages and ballads were in their making and when crude rhythmic verse was uttered in a sort of recitative. Even though we have grown more conscious of art and 154 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH more academic in our practice, we still retain our nat- ural chanting instincts and permit, in the midst of our emphasis upon the intellectual, a certain suggestion of measured monotony that allows the recurring antici- pations of stress to be gratified. Just as our best actors in reading Shakespeare's lines are careful to preserve the rhythm of the blank verse, so should we encour- age our pupils to preserve the rhythm of poems. To fall into sing-song, however, is worse than to ignore the measure entirely. The teacher by his own interpre- tative reading should be able to show his pupils the happy medium between crude chant and prosaic utterance. Poetry lies somewhere between pure music and pure logic; it is thought surcharged with emotion and set to melodious phrase. Neither the thought nor the emotion should be lost in the oral interpretation. Before this oral interpretation can be satisfactory two things are necessary : first, the mechanical processes of reading (such as word sense, articulation, enuncia- tion, inflection, and emphasis) should be skillfully mastered; second, the reader should thoroughly know the thought of the poem and thoroughly feel the poet's emotion. Entering into this intimate sympathy with the message, the reader should then be able to give it proper oral presentation. As teachers, we must remember that our office in instruction is not arbitrarily to impose our interpre- tation, and didactically assert exactly where a strong or a weak stress should fall, just where the rising or THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 155 the falling inflections should occur, or where — if the pupil is declaiming — the gestures should be made. We are, on the other hand, to clarify the thought, to remove any obstruction that deflects emotional stim- ulus, and then to urge the pupils to make their oral reading genuinely interpretative. Practice and drill will correct defects and develop a nicer skill. The base of this skill is clearness of intellect and keenness of sympathy. A perfect judge will read each work of wit With the same spirit that its author writ. 15. Make frequent memory assignments. During the years when our pupils memorize easily we should encourage them to store their minds with many of the choice passages from our literature — prose as well as poetry. Where these are wisely chosen, the thor- ough familiarization and the continued reproduction will aid the student in establishing the best standards of literary taste. As Matthew Arnold suggests, these memorized selections may be happily used in measur- ing the worth of other writings. They will disclose to him the potential force and beauty resident in our language when the writers have the power and skill to marshal into proper formations the words and phrases that express the strongest and best conceptions; and appreciation of this skill should incite the pupil to at- tain some degree of this same skill. Moreover, with these passages in his mind, his thought and spirit are likely to attain a larger growth. Routine that leads 156 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH toward higher attainment, for example, becomes a little easier if we have within us Browning's literal expression — "A man's reach should exceed his grasp." 1 6. Another valuable practice which an English teacher may employ is the illumination of the abstract by concrete illustrations. Take, for example, that well-known couplet from Locksley Hall — Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight. In elaborating the meaning of these lines which show the power of love in effacing self, the teacher should draw upon the great realm of life and story, and tell — or have his students tell — of some great sacrifice which a mother has made for a son, a wife for a husband, or a sweetheart for her lover. Let the narrator bring forward in its detailed concreteness that splendid immolating spirit of Sydney Carton — that greatest of all characters in the greatest of Dickens's novels. Carton's love for Lucie Manette was so supremely great that he would not even offer himself in marriage, for he knew too well that his dissolute, impractical nature was illsuited to the office of husband. But he bided his time in pitiable isolation of spirit, faithful al- ways to that, early promise that he would willingly make any sacrifice to keep her, or any dear to her, safe from any evil or any peril. And when, in that strange and intense situation in the prison of the Conciergerie, THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 157 when he found that it was possible for him, by a vicari- ous sacrifice, to liberate the husband of her whom he loved so unselfishly, then willingly he laid down his life in order that Charles Darnay might be saved to Lucie and to Lucie's children. With the example of this sacrifice fresh before us, shall we not revert with re- newed interest to the abstraction of the poet, and read with keener delight the words which a concrete example has clarified? Try it now in your own instance as you re-read the couplet — Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight. The student should be trained to see the concreteness in the midst of all abstractions. Or, failing in this, he should definitely recognize the fact that the passage has not yielded its message; and if he ends his study then, he should be conscious of his failure — he should not be content with dim and hazy notions. 17. One of the best aids to secure more pleasure and interest in poetry is to develop the pupils' power to visualize. Our study of oral reading has impressed us with the idea that true reading involves the re-creation in the reader's mind and heart of the essential concepts and the essential emotions which dictated the master's writing. The mere mechanical pronunciation of words as an end in itself the true reader will gradually learn to spurn; the revisualizing of concepts and the revi- talizing of emotions he will learn instinctively to de- 158 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH mand. Along with this will come the conviction that literature cannot be effectively studied while the pupil reclines on a soporific couch, or lolls luxuriously in a Morris chair. For most of us the study of literature de- mands the posture of a straight-backed stool. But what specific pedagogical effort will establish the con- viction that words must be vitalized, that sentences and paragraphs must be transfused with the glory and the strength of imagination? As a mere device try this : Read to your pupils — or have the pupils read to themselves — a stanza of poetry, or a paragraph of prose; then immediately de- mand that books be closed. Open a fusillade of ques- tions: What pictures, class, have you in your mind? What senses are appealed to? Sight? Sound? Feeling? Odor? Taste? is there any sensation of movement? Is this upward? Downward? Straight forward? Crooked? Zigzag? Winding? Are there any words which refuse to yield a definite meaning? If so, why? What is the strongest appeal made to your imagination? Let us take a concrete case from the Passing of Arthur and see what sort of questions and comments will create concepts, vivify language, and arouse emotions : — Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge. Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, Beneath them; and descending they were ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms, Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream — ■ by these Three queens with crowns of gold — and from them rose A ery that shiver'd to the tingling stars, THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 159 And, as it were one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes, Or hath come, since the making of the world." Then murmur'd Arthur, "Place me in the barge," So to the barge they came. There those three queens Put forth their hands, and took the King, and wept. But she that rose the tallest of them all And fairest laid his head upon her lap, And loosed the shatter'd casque, and chafed his hands. And call'd him by his name, complaining loud, And dropping bitter tears against a brow Striped with dark blood; for all his face was white And colorless, and like the wither'd moon Smote by the fresh beam of the springing east; And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops Of onset; and the light and lustrous curls — That made his forehead like a rising sun High from the dais-throne — were parch'd with dust. Or, clotted into points and hanging loose, Mixt with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. So like a shatter'd column lay the King; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest, From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladies and of kings. 1 Immediately after the passage is read let all books be closed. Some pupil may first be called upon to describe the picture which was in Tennyson's mind. Omitted details may then be supplied by the class. Or perhaps the teacher will prefer to test the pupils by asking ques- tions that will at once bring out certain details, — such, for example, as the following, — many of them extremely simple: — 1 Tennyson's Poetical Works, Cambridge Edition, p. 448, lines 361-93. 160 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH What color is the barge? Where are Arthur and Bedi- vere when the barge comes up? What is your idea of these " black-stoled, black-hooded " figures ? What gender are they? What is the significance of the phrase "like a dream"? What is the antecedent of them in the phrase, " and from them rose a cry"? Can your imagination re-create this sound? Concentrate your mind on the phrase, " shiver'd to the tingling stars." Read the next lines carefully and see if your idea of the cry is changed. How do you imagine Arthur is taken to the barge? Why did the queens weep? How do you suppose the casque was unloosed? What senses are ap- pealed to in the expression, " and chafed his hands "? Why is the epithet " dark " used to describe the blood? Why not bright? What simile helps to intensify our conception of the whiteness of Arthur's face? " And all his greaves and cuisses dash'd with drops of onset " — explain each detail in the sentence after imagining the whole. How did the " light and lustrous curls " make his forehead like a rising sun high from the dais- throne? Get the full significance of the words "clotted into points." Do you know the meaning of the expres- sion, " lance in rest "? Study the contrast between the appearance of Arthur as he lies upon the barge and as he formerly appeared in the tournaments. Now re- read the passage. Does n't it seem more definite, more vivid, more pulsating than it did on first reading? Do the details not stand out in clearer outline? Don't you see the figures as definite personalities? Don't you THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 161 hear the sounds which rang in Tennyson's ears when he wrote the passage? You will from these questions readily perceive that the design is to generate in the mind of the reader the essential picture which was in the poet's mind. In other words, the questions emphasize the value of re- creating the sensory image — the concrete images which appeal to the five senses. Now we must remember that the concrete image is the basis of all sensory imagery, for sensory imagery means simply and solely the concrete impressions that strike the senses, — sight, hearing, feeling, smell, and taste. When we remember that originally all language was pictorial, and that the modern civilized child cares little for the unillustrated book, and that even we who are more mature smile approvingly when we learn that the lecture we are to attend is to be illuminated with the stereopticon — when we remember all this, we begin to have an idea of what an important part these concrete, visual images play in our daily life. When we apply our study of sensory imagery to the interpretation of literature, it means that we are not getting the exact picture that was in the author's mind unless we know the exact details — real or imaginary — that were in the author's mind. Now for the pur- poses of sympathetic reading it is of course not neces- sary that the exact image originally in the poet's mind be re-created, — the essential thing is that the reader study the particular passage he is reading with the idea 162 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH of securing as nearly as possible the writer's point of view. Then by the proper arrangement and massing of details, the alert, sensitive reader — provided his ex- perience be sufficient — can create the adequate image and come into proper sympathy with the author. But in all our teaching we are too prone to forget that the experience of our pupils is severely limited. The trouble with them and with ourselves is just this, — we have not seen enough. Or if we have seen enough, we have not observed closely enough. Recently in my work with a class of seniors in the high school we came to this passage in Milton's L' Allegro: — And he, by friar's lantern led, Tells how the drudging goblin sweat To earn his cream-bowl duly set, When in one night, ere glimpse of morn His shadowy flail had threshed the corn That ten day-labourers could not end. When the class was questioned concerning the line, " His shadowy flail had threshed the corn," it devel- oped that only four in a class of twenty-six had any definite idea of the picture that must have been in the poet's mind, most of them having never seen a flail or a threshing floor. I do not mention this as a sur- prising incident; I mention it because it is worth while to remember constantly that the experience of the city child is widely different from the experience of the country child, and that the spirit of the present gen- eration varies decidedly from that of our grandfathers. The solution here, I believe, is the same as in the THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 163 realm of practical ethics, — the instillment in the in- dividual mind of the necessity of a wise unselfishness, the partial eff acement of the individual egoism — a liberal Catholicism. Applying the dictum to ourselves as readers, we must learn to feel how extremely narrow has been the experience which has come to each one of us. We may never have seen the magnolia's bloom or heard the ominous soughing of the whispering pines; we have never been on the equator where darkness comes at a single stride when the sun's rim dips. But if in reading imagery that comprehends unexperienced phenomena we project ourselves in the direction of the poet's thought, and sensitively adjust our vision to his, we can, without sharing his exact experience, enter sympathetically into his pictures and his sensations. If this were not so Byron never would have popularized for an English public those opening lines of The Bride of Abydos so rich in Oriental imagery: - — Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime? Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul in her, bloom; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky. In colour though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine. And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 164 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Now the details here enumerated may not be a part of the reader's experience, but a willingness to become catholic and a wisely energized projection will make the passage vital. This vitality, let me insist, cannot be adequately secured without an ability to re-create these sensory images — these appeals to the organs of sight, hearing, feeling, smelling, and tasting. Because the visual and the auditory images are so common in litera- ture, and because they are so graphically seen in the passages previously quoted from The Passing of Arthur and The Bride of Abydos, we need not pause to elucidate them further. We may, however, give a single illustra- tion of the appeals made in literature to those sense or- gans of somewhat lesser note — feeling, taste, and smell. Among the images rich in their wealth of touch impressions, I know of none that makes a more deli- cately sensuous appeal than the one created by Ros- setti in The Blessed Damozel. You will recall the pic- ture of the ethereal maiden leaning over the bar of heaven. To this visual image the poet adds details beautifully illustrative of the tactile sense and the feeling of warmth. Is it possible for any one to read this stanza without re-creating the sensation of flesh and warmth, and thus from this emotion derive a genuine aesthetic pleasure? And still she bowed herself and stooped Out of her circling charm; Until her bosom must have made The bar she leaned on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Upon her bended ana. THE TEACHING OF THE LYRIC 165 Taste and odor have not been so frequently em- ployed by the poets in their creation of sensory images, but William Harney saw the possibilities of the former when in his Adonais he wrote : — All the heart was full of feeling; love had ripened into speech Like the Sap that turns to nectar, in the velvet of the peach. And there are few more delicate appeals to odor than Shelley's sensitive simile that likens the emanation of song from the skylark to the emanation of odor from the rose: — Like a rose embowered In its own green leaves, By warm winds deflowered, Till the scent it gives Makes faint with too much sweet those heavy-winged thieves. The enumeration of all these suggestions shows us how far we have advanced from that primitive or juvenile existence that found its pleasure in the merely mechanical. Poetry has acquired a new charm as we, along with our students, have grown more mature. The vague, mystical longings in our own nature are in part resolved, in part simply phrased by the poets. It is now a portion of our aesthetic joy that we as in- dividuals are, by virtue of a developed thought and emotion, privileged to share in the communal thought and emotion of men whom we instinctively recognize as at once superior and sympathetic. Their laughter has been our laughter, their tears our tears, their long- ings our longings, their enigmas our enigmas, their subjection and shame and solace our subjection and 166 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH shame and solace. And out of their sympathetic ex- pression has arisen our love and our confidence and our hope. We find that we can be taught new truths ; that out of the fiery tortures of the present may flow a more easeful and less mystifying future. Life may still be complex and chaotic, — to the thoughtful it will al- ways be so, — but a portion at least of its less subtle spiritual nebula is resolved and a valuable lesson has been learned. It would, of course, be impossible to estimate how much comfort Longfellow has brought to the world by his Psalm of Life, but more than one tortured soul has testified to its solacing power. And Francis Thompson has acknowledged that he was saved from suicide by Chatterton. What Wordsworth said of nature many can with equal truthfulness say of poetry, though in either case it is doubtless a harmless but suggestive exaggera- tion: — 't is her privilege, Through all the years of this our life, to lead From joy to joy; for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold Is full of blessing. CHAPTER IX THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION We have passed into that period of change when the reading of fiction is no longer questioned, but is, on the other hand, encouraged and accepted as one of the val- uable contributing agencies to culture. This changed attitude has brought to the English teacher a new obligation; those novels which we admit into our high- school course must be taught in such a manner that the resulting developed taste of our pupils will come naturally and inevitably to discriminate against the tawdry, the sentimental, the flaccid, and the perni- cious. One of our first convictions should be the necessity of creating in our pupils an intelligent reverence for the works that have become classic. We may say of novels what Longfellow, in Hyperion, once said of men : — Time has a Doomsday-Book upon whose pages he is con- tinually recording illustrious names. But as often as a new- name is written there an old one disappears. Only a few stand in illuminated characters never to be effaced. These are the high Nobility of Nature, Lords of the Public Domain of Thought. Posterity shall never question their titles. But those whose fame lives in the indiscreet opinion of unwise men must soon be as well forgotten as if they had never been. Certainly there are a few of the novels commonly read in the high schools whose title to fame posterity 168 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH may never question. A Tale of Two Cities, Silas Marner, Henry Esmond, and Ivanhoe — each of these readily falls within this classification; each has its gen- eral and particular reasons for commanding classic ap- proval. The problem of the English teacher is to pre- sent these masterpieces of fiction in such an intelligent and alluring way as to reveal their inherent interest and to establish their permanent worth. And accept- ance of this interest and worth by the pupil will help, by induction, to establish the literary value of other novels which the world has accepted as classic. But such acceptance demands a teaching technique. What shall be our method of approach? What our teaching process during the days that the selected books are being studied? Is it, indeed, desirable that there shall be uniform choice? May not each pupil be assigned a separate novel? Or at least may there not be extended freedom? In his attempt to answer some of these questions, Mr. Walter S. Hinchman, of the Groton School, has developed what he calls the Book Club. Below the sixth form — corresponding to the regular senior year of the high school — there is in the Groton School no required literature course. The selections are all dic- tated by the pupils, acting always under the stimula- tion and guidance of the teacher. On literature days there is no specific assignment; the instructor simply reminds the class of the meeting of the Book Club and offers the suggestions he wishes. This means that each THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 169 member may read whatever he pleases, and come to the club prepared to report informally upon this read- ing. He may select a poem, an essay, a drama, a maga- zine article, a short story, a novel (whole or in part) — anything, indeed, which his whim, his good sense, his maturing taste, dictates. The discussion of these selec- tions comprises the recitation, and may accordingly involve a wide range of topics. As the classes at Groton are small — from seven to fifteen usually — most of the members have adequate time to give their individ- ual reports. This brief outline of the plan is sufficient for any teacher to catch the hint and adapt it to his own classes — particularly his classes in fiction. It may be a good plan to have a different chairman and a dif- ferent secretary for each meeting of the club. The chairman may lead the discussion; the secretary may keep notes which may later be expanded into full minutes and be read at the following meeting. The teacher may simply be a lay member of the club; if the chairman chooses to call upon him he gives his report on his current reading; or, if he wishes to ask a ques- tion or offer comment he speaks from the common floor and not from the pedagogue's chair. By experiment, teachers will discover that this method is admirably adapted to stimulate the rapid and pleasuref ul reading of the best of the modern books. Most of us, as we try to review the formation of our own literary tastes, will recall that it was developed largely 170 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH by three agencies — our teachers, our family, and our friends. Perhaps we were prone to accept the recom- mendations of our teachers and parents with some reserve — we knew their primness, their maturity, and the conventional demands of their officialdom. But the enthusiastic praise of our friends for a particular book urged immediate reading, and we approached this reading with fervid anticipation of the proper thrills. The results of such stimulation and reaction we may see revealed in the Book-Club meetings. In such meetings, moreover, the teacher's enthusi- asm for a particular book acquires more kinetic force; as the atmosphere becomes more equable, more com- panionable, the teacher's advice becomes more solu- ble, more permeating. I am sure that my own veiled advice to read Henry James's The Madonna of the Future, offered in one of our club meetings, was re- ceived with more confidence and yielded a fuller fruit- age because it was shorn of all ex-cathedra formalism and pedagogical vesture. But to adopt the scheme as an exclusive method would, in most high schools, be a mistake. It smacks too richly of the Montessori flavor. Absolutely free election has been proved to be unwise in the college; it is perilous in the high school. Pupils are too young, too immature, too wavering, to make the best selec- tion. Where the dominating personality of a master is so strong as inevitably to force the right choice, the Book-Club method really differs little from the ortho- THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 171 dox, the imposed course. Moreover, we should repose little faith in the assertion that an imposed task is necessarily a hated task. Thought and skill are of course necessary to shear away any acquired dread and thus make the assigned work of highest re-active value to the pupils. Such thought every true teacher will generously give; such skill every true teacher will ultimately acquire. But the Book Club is of unques- tioned value and deserves a trial. A method which may be found more stable and more basic than the Book Club is one that — for want of a better name — has been called the Lancastrian 1 method of teaching fiction. Experiment will prove its worth, for the method stimulates keen interest and is founded on a fundamental truth — the truth that personal responsibility develops personal power. Is it not true that most of us who are teachers recognize that our firmest grasp of a subject has come to us when we were preparing to present it to a class? Why not, then, by creating a similar situation, develop for the pupil a responsibility akin to this ? The sequence of this inquiry, which I addressed to myself a few years ago, was the adoption of this Lancastrian method. I adopted it because, of all methods I could think of or devise, it most rigorously demands from the pupil that spirit of thoroughness and responsibility that the 1 Joseph Lancaster (1778-1838) was an English educator who gained favor both in England and America by free use of the moni- torial system. 172 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH conscientious teacher always feels in preparing his own work. The class is commencing, let us say, the study of A Tale of Two Cities. For the purpose of getting the main threads of the story securely in leash, the pupils are encouraged, or required, to read the book through. Some introductory words are necessary; such, for ex- ample, as the significance of the title, the fact that the events are associated with the French Revolution, and the helpful detail that in many respects this book is not typical of Dickens's characteristic work. It may be wise to add that though the beginning may seem a bit cryptic and tedious, the book by a general con- sensus of high-school readers ranks among the first in the list of popular favorites. After some such introduc- tion the pupil is left to himself while he reads the book through for its story interest. This reading goes on while the classwork is devoted to something else — composition, rhetoric, or public speaking, perhaps. Only such questions are asked or such comments made as will keep the interest of each member of the class intent on the perusal of the story. If on this first read- ing some pupil becomes too deeply involved in the intricacies of the plot, the teacher will take sufficient time to make any necessary explanation; but the time allowed for this — most economically taken at the beginning of a recitation — should be brief. In a week or more this first rapid reading is finished and the more detailed study begins. This detailed THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 173 study embraces one chief demand — the framing of questions designed to bring out the significant details of setting, plot, and character. Special importance, moreover, is attached to these questions because the pupils are told that they are to prepare this lesson for the purpose of teaching it. Each pupil must be ready each day to come before the class and conduct the recitation. The teacher, during the class period, may remain wholly in the background or emerge only when a serious mistake is made, or when further comment is desirable, or when fruitless discussion should end. While the chief responsibility may temporarily rest upon the pupil in charge, emphasis in the earlier trial of the method must fall upon the willingness of each individual member to contribute to the collective worth and virility of the recitation. Errors must be corrected, omissions supplied, and partial comments made complete. And for all this each member of the class is made to feel responsible. A generated spirit of complete freedom will allow interesting disagreements and friendly debate that will bring out obscure points in the story, indistinct phases of character, and helpful comments upon some of the varied problems of our complicated human life. The pupil, as temporary teacher, will at first rely mainly upon his prepared questions, which he has written out in his notebook; but his own experience and the observed experience of his classmates will finally develop a strength and freedom that allow a wider and 174 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH richer range. His extempore comments and questions will increase in number; his own improvisations will beget a spirit of animated and informal discussion; any temporary embarrassment will disappear as the interest deepens. And this socializing work — if wisely directed and controlled — is the most valuable part of the English period. For the purpose of illustrating this method con- cretely, I am inserting here a list of questions prepared by my own students in the regular course of Junior English while the class was studying the beginning chapters of A Tale of Two Cities: — Student's Questions on the Earlier Chapters of the Tale of Two Cities Chapter I. 1. What does the title of this chapter suggest as to its contents? 2. Can you better understand the first paragraph by com- paring the conditions there described with the present conditions in Europe? 3. What is the significance in the contrast Dickens makes between conditions in England and conditions in France? 4. Do you like Dickens's method of introducing the story, or would you rather have had this chapter omitted, or placed somewhere else? 5. How does the opening of the story differ from the open- ing of the current novels? 6. What characteristics of Dickens are revealed in the first chapter? 7. Can you justify the satirical note of this chapter? Does this note of satire permeate the entire story? 8. What instance of dramatic foreshadowing is given in Chapter I? THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 175 9. Describe the power of the law at this time. Do you think any of it is exaggerated? 10. Explain the allusions to the Woodman Fate and the Farmer Death. Chapter II. 1. What was the situation of affairs on Shooter's Hill that Friday night in November? 2. Why does this whole chapter seem vivid and real? 3. Is the fact that the three passengers were wrapped with clothes so as not to be seen, suggestive of any- thing? 4. What sort of man is the guard? How is his character portrayed? 5. Why is the guard so surprised at the sound of a horse? 6. What sort of answers does he give to Jerry? 7. What does the answer "Recalled to Life" suggest? What may it be? 8. What does Jerry's talk at the very end of the chapter mean? (He says he would be in a bad way, if recalling to life was the fashion.) 9. Who is the most important character mentioned in Chapter II? Why? 10. How does this chapter hold your interest? 11. What is the attitude of the passengers toward each • other? Chapter III. 1. Why does Dickens put this first paragraph in at this point? 2. Why is this bit of general truth especially adaptable to the times? 3. Why is Jerry so haunted by the shadows? 4. Does Dickens's use of any particular part of speech ap- peal to you? 5. What were Mr. Lorry's thoughts as he rode along in the mail? 6. What have you learned so far of Jerry's character? 176 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Chapter IV. 1. In what state did the coach arrive at Dover? 2. How was business done at the Inn? 3. What can be said of the curiosity of the people at the Inn? 4. How did Mr. Lorry appear? 5. What interesting order did he give to the drawer who brought his breakfast? 6. Did the drawers of those days differ much from the porters and waiters of our day? Explain your answer. 7. What sort of a place was Dover? 8. Why was the lamplighter unendurable? 9. How did Mr. Lorry spend his day? 10. What interesting person is introduced to us? 11. What are your first impressions of her? 12. Describe her apartment. 13. Were the decorations — the negro cupids — introduced for a purpose? 14. Why was Mr. Lorry troubled? [ 15. What pleasantries were exchanged? 16. Was Mr. Lorry a stranger to Miss Manette? Why so? 17. What remarkable qualities of expression did Miss Manette have? 18. When Mr. Lorry said, "story," why did she repeat it? 19. Why did Mr. Lorry willfully mistake the word? 20. What short sketch of himself and his work does Mr. Lorry give? 21. Why does Mr. Lorry attempt to conceal that he is tell- ing Dr. Manette's story? 22. What startling fact does he tell? 23. How had Dr. Manette's wife brought up her daughter? 24. What effect did the statement that her father was alive have upon Miss Manette? 25. When Mr. Lorry had finished, what was her condi- tion? 26. What did Mr. Lorry do? 27. Describe the personage who answered his call? 28. How did she handle the proceedings? 29. How did she treat Mr. Lorry? THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 177 It is, of course, apparent that before the best and most suggestive questions can be asked, a certain amount of instruction must be given concerning the elements of story-telling and the art of fiction. Many of these elements and much of this art the pupil in the high school has unconsciously absorbed; such garner- ing is the divine heritage of the home and school train- ing. But it is altogether unlikely that the pupil has either analyzed or systematized this knowledge; it is fragmentary and chaotic, and it is the teacher's privi- lege to clarify it and to set it out in a more orderly and a more tangible form. It must not, therefore, be assumed that because this Lancastrian method demands the greatest possible ac- tivity on the part of the pupil that it therefore lessens correspondingly the obligation of the teacher; upon the teacher still rests the privileged duty of disclosing things that an untrained reader might not see. Sig- nificant details in plot structure, dramatic f oreshadow- ings, character contrasts, effects of character upon plot, the full import of given situations — these, and a score of other items necessary for the genuine appreciation of fiction study, the alert teacher will daily disclose. Moreover, he will have to make the most painstaking preparations in order to disclose it skillfully. As the study of the novel progresses, the instructor may therefore become more analytical in his aims; al- ways, however, he must be on his guard lest his own more matured literary taste and training lead him too 178 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH far away from the simple narration of story and the saliency of the concrete incident. All except the imma- ture pupils in the high school, however, will be inter- ested in the simpler analysis that discloses the inter- esting fact that in planning and executing his story almost any writer of fiction concerns himself with three distinct types of things : — 1. The events that happen. 2. The places where these events happen. 3. The persons to whom these events happen. The class will be interested in learning that we have agreed upon three simple terms that name these dif- ferentiated phases of fiction — (1) Plot; (2) Setting; (3) Character. 1. Plot In teaching a group of students the technical signif- icance of plot many teachers will find it helpful to liken the idea of plot to the idea of design — more par- ticularly the design in a piece of woven cloth, a carpet, or a medallion rug. Imagine, if you will, a large medal- lion rug spread out in front of a class who are studying A Tale of Two Cities. The border or frame of this rug may be compared to the French Revolution, which supplies the enveloping action of the story and sur- rounds it continually with its menacing interest. The characters coming and going, meeting and passing, are the various threads that combine and recombine in such a complicated way that, watching the weaver at his loom, we should be puzzled to know the ultimate THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 179 place and function of the several strands. Viewing the finished product, however, we can trace the precon- ceived design set within this portentous enveloping border. When we see Sydney Carton in the prison, preparing for his final sacrifice, we understand why, early in the story, Dickens had made Carton toss to Mr. Stryver the note which called attention to the similarity of Carton's and Darnay's features. Or when Charles Darnay, on his wedding morning, has imparted to Dr. Manette the secret of his birth and identity (book ii, chap, xviii), we suspect that the look which passes over the doctor's face is engendered by the same emotion that cast a similar shadowy indication that particular Sunday afternoon under the plane-tree (book ii, chap. vi). We further identify it with that emotion revealed at the time that Darney confesses to Dr. Manette his ardent love for Lucie (book n, chap, x) : — So strange was the way in which he faded into silence, and so strange his fixed look when he ceased to speak, that Darnay felt his own hand turn cold in the hand that slowly released and dropped it. The full nature of this woven design of tapestried effect is not revealed, however, until at the close of the book we read the blood-written story in which Dr. Manette discloses the secret crimes of Charles Dar- nay's uncle and father — the Evremonde brothers, aristocrats and accomplices in crime. These details are merely illustrative. The pupil may 180 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH be asked to trace the various actions and to train him- self to see the significance of chance meetings or chance missings. Because the simile of the weaving design cannot al- ways be carried out in detail, some teachers prefer to use the figure of sowing and reaping, tanglement and disentanglement, cause and effect, loose building ma- terial and finished structure. Freytag's Technique of the Drama, as simplified by Miss Woodbridge, may prove suggestive if not taken too literally. We can at least use the triangle. climax V We must not, however, insist that this triangle be isosceles; the course of plot may often be more truly presented by the following graph: — o* ~cd&2 &«* $<£- climax o, \ <§> THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 181 The search for the climax — roughly conceived as the place where the complication begins to cease and the resolution begins to commence — often proves a mere ignis fatuus. In Silas Marner it is perhaps rather satisfactorily placed at the coming of Eppie. The sim- ple fact remains, however, that most writers construct their stories with no definite conception that they are going to provide a situation which pedagogues in the English classrooms can gloatingly corral and forthwith erect a signboard flashily labeled — Eureka ! The crisis ! There are, on the other hand, preconceived points of high interest, and novelists take great pains in effec- tively leading up to these points of interest. In some stories — notably A Tale of Two Cities at the sacrifi- cial exchange of prisoners — there is a point of highest human interest. These may mark a turning-point in the movement of the plot; or they may simply mark points of high culminating intensity. To discuss these — to question the source of their appeal, to explain the au- thor's preparation, to argue their naturalness, to con- done their baseness or to justify their elaborateness — ■ such themes are likely to yield a larger fruitage than a class search for a non-existent or a highly dubious crisis. The search for the catastrophe — a highly dramatic denouement near the close of the action — may be equally futile. On the stage it is rarely absent, for the desire to externalize action is there more insistent. In such a novel as The Mill on the Floss, however, the death of Tom and Maggie Tulliver by drowning 182 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH solves the tragic entanglement as completely as does Macduff's killing of Macbeth, or the parallel suicide of Antony and Cleopatra. The death of Arthur Dimmesdale in Hester Prynne's arms supplies the tragic catastrophe of The Scarlet Letter. Eppie's de- cision to renounce Godfrey's offer and to remain steadfastly with her adopted father is externally less dramatic but no less final — no less significant. In many modern novels, however, we find that the author has made no provision for a catastrophe. The plot ends as most plots end in daily life — the characters pass from situation to situation and the story finally ends with neither unusual triumph nor unusual disaster. The last chapter ends long before " life's poor dream is o'er." The class in fiction will soon discover that most plots — particularly those of any marked elaboration — represent a struggle. In the old Greek and Norse stories this opposing force was frequently represented as Fate. In the modern story it may be an abstract social system, convention, inheritance, environment. More frequently, as in the romantic novel as Stevenson wrote it, the concrete opposing force may be a hero's enemy in the form of a criminal with a single crutch. Or it may be, as in the case of Quentin Durward, a brave young man triumphing over many — over Dunois, Orleans, Hayraddin, Crevecceur, and even King Louis himself. Whatever the type of story, we are likely to be THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 183 most concerned with the issue of a certain pursuing Nemesis, and the triumph of this avenging god. The ancient curse of the Maules hung like a pall over the Pyncheon family, and ever and anon, as fitting occa- sion offered, the curse significantly manifests its spe- cific power. The temperamental tendency to evade a moral crisis wrought its tragic havoc upon Tito Melema as well as upon Godfrey Cass. The evil that the Evremondes practiced provoked its final retribu- tion when Gaspard's knife drove the Marquis fast to his tomb — that from Jacques ! Before a student has read many novels, this relation- ship of crimes and punishments following in their in- evitable wake will make him more watchful for suc- ceeding events; he will begin at the first chapter to watch for an artistic and significant sequence of events. He will learn to " catch hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true play." To one of these devices he will learn to apply a term now generally accepted — foreshadowing, or dramatic foreshadowing. At the be- ginning of Poe's Fall of the House of Usher, for ex- ample, he will catch the spirit of impending gloom and quickly assume that the end is to be tragic. The reader will be interested in noting that as soon as the narrator comes within sight of the melancholy House of Usher, there are unmistakable hints of these strange forebodings : — I knew not how it was, but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. 184 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Once inside the house he feels the atmosphere become even more oppressive, and his spirit cringes as he views the somber tapestries of the walls and the ebon black- ness of the floors. He is in the stifled midst of stern, deep, and irredeemable gloom. Then as each detail of the narrative fits so appropriately into the tragic spirit so ominously regnant, we are not surprised when we approach the end of the story to feel the inevitable- ness of the tragic doom. At the same time that an author is thus foreshadow- ing events he is equally concerned in not letting these events reveal themselves too quickly. Students will themselves discover the author's reason for withhold- ing such plot information — he wants to retain us firmly in the leash of interest, or — to change the fig- ure — to lure us on to the further journey. This de- vice we call suspense. A good illustration is in A Tale of Two Cities — the scene that describes the attack upon the Bastille. Def arge makes a thorough search for the document that he suspects may have been hidden in One Hundred Five, North Tower. We follow him in his frenzied flight to the place and watch him in his feverish search. But Dickens will not tell us then of the outcome; he awaits the more dramatic moment of the second trial when the document is read in the grim and silent court. Just how far we should lead a given class into the technique of plot will always be a question. We may perhaps find our wisest restraint in the thought that THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 185 when class interest is found to be centering in tech- nique rather than in the story itself, the teacher should immediately bring the class back to the significant points of the story itself. It is always better for the high-school pupil to know well the good story that has been written rather than the mere way in which that story was written. The study of technique is valuable only to the degree that it forces us to see more clearly the story as " in itself it really is." 2. Setting Instinctively we are always interested in the place where an incident happens. In narrating simple ex- periences of our own we almost unconsciously include the location. How natural it is to say, " The other day as I was returning from Chicago "; " While we were en- camped before Vicksburg "; "Just as we were passing Minot's Light "; or some similar phrase of identifica- tion. When we speak of the setting of a novel, how- ever, we usually mean something more than mere location. We surround the scene with something strongly individual and prevailing. Over and around us hovers a peculiarly impregnated atmosphere that inevitably colors the incidents of the story. A sugges- tion of the pregnant influence of setting is suggested by what Mr. Edwin L. Shuman has written concerning his visit to Eden Phillpotts, where he describes the novelist's surroundings and methods of work. He says: — 186 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH As we wandered through the wonderful garden which is the Dartmoor novelist's sole diversion, he remarked with a twinkle in his blue-gray eyes that he was inclined to see red just then. A question brought out the fact that his imagina- tion was steeped in the red clay of the Devon potteries near Torquay, where he had long been at work on Brunel'3 Tower. This led to an explanation of his method of composition. "You may think it a topsy-turvy way," he said, "but I always select the setting first and evolve the plot and char- acters from it. I never create a story and then look for scenes into which to fit it. The people of a novel, I believe, should grow up out of the soil on which they act out their little drama." Her" we have a key to much in this author's art. What Thomas Hardy did occasionally, as when he made Egdon Heath an overshadowing power in The Return of the Native, Mr. Phillpotts has done habitually in the twenty volumes of his "modest comedy of Dartmoor." Though he is now working in other parts of Devonshire, his method is the same. In the case of Brunei's Tower, he told me he lived among the potters three months before setting pen to paper, making friends among the workmen and even shaping earth- enware with his own hands, until the red clay got into the blood of his characters. Knowing the author's method, one reads BruneVs Tower with a fresh interest. Every man and woman in the story is seen to live and move in the atmosphere of George Easterbrook's pottery as completely as a goldfish in an aquarium. Not only their bodies, but their souls, are subdued to the color of the clay. From the wise and kindly master to the ambitious and faulty Harvey Porter, all have been created out of the matter and spirit of the place. The whole group is typified in old Tom Body, who comes to be- lieve that the clay has a soul, and finally talks to the pots as he shapes them on the wheel. Something similar to this is seen in most novels of great power. How strongly we feel the smoke and soot and grime in Tarkington's The Turmoil and in Dick- ens's Hard Times. Equally strong is the dominating THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 187 power of machinery in Margaret Deland's The Iron Woman. In Sokrab and Rustum — for in narrative poetry the setting is as important an element as it is in prose fiction — the vital presence of the Oxus River is only a little less interesting than the characters and the incidents themselves. We start our story in its pres- ence — And the first gray of the morning filled the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. While father and son fight near its banks and when in sympathy Ruksh utters his dreadful cry, the Oxus curdled as the wild notes cross the stream. Finally, as Sohrab lay dead upon the sand and Rustum crouched in sorrow beside his son, the cold fog crept from the Oxus, and the majestic river floated on out of the mist and hum of that low land, its dominating presence an integral and inevitable part of the splendid poem. And thus it is in almost all great narratives. Beauty, fear, hope, ecstasy, absorption, ambition, aspiration, despair — any of these may be revealed or intensified by the author's power in portraying the settings of his stories. And in proportion as he in creating felt their power, the student in re-creating is interpreting their power. 3. Character The teacher who is a true craftsman will study his class in order to see how far they are able to penetrate 188 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH into the mysteries of character. With the less mature divisions he will dwell merely upon the bolder aspects of villainy and virtue. This is why Scott and Cooper are so well suited for the younger high-school classes — particularly if the abridged editions of their novels be used. Their characters are conceived in bold outline; the strong and weak elements are easily discernible and the good and the bad distinctly differentiated. The study of Cooper is easier only because his vocabulary is simpler and the life he portrays more familiar to the imagination. In design and method of character por- trayed the two writers are almost identical. In modern times Jack London has struck a similar note. Young pupils like to watch the good contending with the bad and to see the final triumph of power or skill or bravery or devotion, as these qualities manifest themselves in a bold and elemental way. With a more mature class, emphasis may wisely fall upon the unusual types that Hawthorne's temperament and skill enabled him to portray. The pupil will readily feel that when he goes back with Hawthorne to old Salem, there to acquaint himself with Judge Pyncheon and Uncle Venner and all the inmates of the seven- gabled house, that he is indeed in a rare and compli- cated company, and exposed to whims and sensations that he never even vaguely conceived when he was fol- lowing the adventures of Hawkeye and Ivanhoe and John Silver. What a rare assembly, indeed, — those Salem folk! THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 189 Hepzibah, brave, tender-hearted Hepzibah, scowling, turbaned, faded, forlorn, poverty-stricken spinster, her life fed by two flames — pride of ancestry, love for her brother; Clifford, poor, shattered lover of the beautiful, a child at sixty delighting in bees and hummingbirds, blowing soap- bubbles, starting back in terror from faces leering at him from the depths of Maule's well — poor, persecuted Clifford; the Judge, hiding a black heart beneath sultry smiles, so de- monstrably respectable and charitable, so damnably selfish and carnal; Phoebe, beautiful in the twilight time between youth and womanhood; strange Holgrave, scorning tradi- tions, a dabbling philosopher advancing theories experimen- tally, almost a true man, yet dangerously near the opaque puddle that has swallowed up the rest of his line; Uncle Ven- ner, patch philosopher, trundling his matutinal barrow; and that delightful young cannibal Ned Higgins, who devours whales and dromedaries; and the chickens, so humanly gal- linaceous, drinking with gusto the bitter waters from Maule's well, fattening their diminutive bodies on snails, and making such a pretty ado over the production of one small egg. How well we know all these — ■ better indeed than we know our neighbors. Hawthorne has revealed them, not by flashlight, but by patient analysis born of love and hate. We know them because he knew them; he knew them because they were part of him ; their composite is Hawthorne himself, a truer portrait than that which looks down on me from study wall — a faithful, fearless likeness. 1 In the quoted paragraph complicity is studied in the character group; it may, with these mature classes, be also studied and analyzed in a single character, such as Beatrix Esmond — her charm, beauty, virtue, can- dor, intention, pride, jealousy, adroitness, ambition, brilliancy, and cruelty, all held in easy summons for 1 Alfred M. Hitchcock, "The Relation of the Picture Play to Literature," The English Journal, May 1915. A paper read before the New England Association of Teachers of English. 190 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH selective alliance, for swift attack, or for irresistible counterplay. To watch her throughout the varying triumph and vicissitudes to which Fate subjects her, to determine the momentary effect of each crisis as well as the permanent effect as portrayed in the open- ing chapters of The Virginians —to do this thoroughly is to travel emotionally all the way from extreme irri- tation to complete infatuation and to swing from one to the other with mercurial swiftness, and to rest finally in wondering appreciation of Thackeray's para- mount skill. In another type of analytic mood, a teacher will direct attention to the difference between a static character and a developing character. Squire Cass, in George Eliot's Silas Marner, may be cited as an example of a static character. During the progress of the story his character does not change — he is stern, domineering, impetuous to the end. Silas Marner, in contrast, is a developing character. As a young man he was religious, trustful, and sociable. His experience with William Dane and his early life at Raveloe changed him into a non-religious, suspicious, and miserly man. With the loss of his money, the care of Eppie, and the influence of the Winthrops, he developed into a steady, unselfish workman performing vicariously deeds that lifted him far above the narrow sordidness of the lonely hut that in former years had hoarded the gold of a miserable miser. In connection with the study of developing characters, the students will be interested THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 191 in knowing that the little Indian girl, Ayacanora, in Kingsley's Westward Ho ! is one of the most striking examples in all fiction. From the wild, hunted creature of the Orinoco forests she becomes the kind and gentle creature devotedly ministering to every want of the mother of Amyas Leigh in her peaceful English home. Marked examples of deterioration are seen in such cases as Tito Melema in Romola, Tom Gradgrind in Hard Times, Anna Karenina, and Tess in Tess of the D' Urbervilles. Further analysis of character and methods of its revelation may disclose a knowledge of the different ways a novelist has of portraying character. The teacher, deductively, may lead his pupil to see that character is portrayed in four ways : — 1. By what the person says or fails to say. 2. By what the person does or fails to do. 3. By what is said about the person. (a) By the author. (b) By the other persons in the story. 4. By what the person causes others to do. Formal analysis of this kind must not, however, be allowed to become too strongly stereotyped or be used too frequently. It is stimulating when used as a means to an end; it is deadening when used as an end in itself. Saving principles are vitality, variety, and proportion. And it is to be further remembered that abstractions soon become tiresome; they need constantly the en- livening stimulus that concreteness brings. Teachers will not omit the opportunity that com- 192 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH parison and contrast offer. Shakespeare considers two of his dramatis persona? in Hamlet so much alike that sometimes he calls them Rosencrantz and Guildenstem and at other times Guildenstem and Rosencrantz — a part of our dislike comes from this exact duplication of subserviency. Very seldom, however, in fiction, in drama, or in life, is there this exactness of creation — Priscilla and Nancy Lammeter have many points in common, but we like to mark their differences. There are many community resemblances in the group at the Rainbow, but even casual observation detects the varieties. Character contrast is nowhere more strik- ingly portrayed in fiction than in Sydney Carton, " the fellow of no delicacy," and Stryver, " the fellow of delicacy." * Each acts as a foil to accentuate the char- acteristics of the other. With more mature classes comparison and contrasts in character may profitably go beyond the pale of the novel under consideration and draw its illustrations from the broad field of general fiction. Dolly Winthrop in Silas Marner may be compared with Mrs. Tulliver in The Mill on the Floss. These methods of studying character do not pretend to be exhaustive. Teachers will naturally call attention to such interesting points as indirect portrayal (Mac- beth's Genius rebuked in the presence of Banquo); 1 A satisfactory theme assignment in the study of A Tale of Two Cities is A Character Contrast limiting the student to the three chap- ters — "A Fellow of Delicacy"; "A Fellow of No Delicacy"; and " A Companion Picture." , THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 193 character hints from costume; emphasis upon peculiar physiognomy; significant and highly characteristic mannerisms (Bitzer's knuckling his forehead in Hard Times); the practice of Dickens to employ a great many characters in contrast with Hawthorne who uses so few; self -revealing names (Mr. M'Choakumchild, Mr. Stryver, Mr. Obstinate), the tendency that some authors have to analyze their characters, pointing out details as a stereopticon lecturer does with his rod of bamboo; and the influence that place and atmosphere exert, the personal attitude of the author toward the characters. All these will inevitably suggest them- selves to the discerning teacher. All the time that we are studying the plot, setting, and character, we are, through this study, getting acquainted with the author as an individual and as a craftsman in fiction. Not from biography, but from his writings, perhaps we have unconsciously acquired suf- ficient knowledge of the author to answer — tenta- tively, at least — such varied questions as these, many of them already discussed, but here more concretely set forth: — 1. What seems to be the author's general attitude toward the poorer classes? 2. Does he seem more at home among the princes or among the peasants? 3. Are his heroes likely to be heroes on the battlefield or heroes in the domestic vicissitudes of life? 4. Does the author make his characters the victims of ex- ternal fate, or are they the victims of their own weak- nesses, or victors by their own strength? 194 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 5. Has the author a keen sense of humor? 6. Is this humor shown principally by the situation or by the dialogue? 7. In what ways does the author show his personal bias? Or is he entirely free from it? 8. Does the author show any decided preference for na- ture and the out-of-doors? 9. How does he show his interest in the superstitious and the mystical? 10. In portraying characters does he depend more upon dialogue and action or upon character analysis? Which method do you find more interesting? 11. What evidences of the author's early environment are apparent in the story? 12. Do you consider his use of historical data accurate? Are his violations justifiable? 13. Do you feel that you can generally detect his ethical aims? Are they obtrusive? 14. Can you generally determine whether or not he has had a college education? Is his lack of academic culture a hindrance or a help? 15. Can you guess his religious bias? 16. Do you detect any strong party preference? 17. Is he fair in his treatment of those who disagree? Could he be, at the same time, a great artist and a bitter partisan? 18. Do you think of other writers who are markedly like him? Markedly different? 19. Is his race attachment obvious? 20. Does he seem to view life through the windows of his own library, or does he seem to have experienced a vital contact with men and affairs? 21. Is his general outlook optimistic? Pessimistic? 22. Does he portray a tendency toward sarcasm? 23. Is his attitude toward his characters sympathetic or coldly observant? 24. Does the author deliberately prepare the reader's mood for the action by sympathetic weather, appropriate scene, mood of characters, — (a) apprehension, (6) an- THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 195 ticipation, — by the suggestion of choice words? How from these can we detect suggestions of foreboding, of joyful expectation, of suspense? 25. Is the author skillful in giving us a sense of the "spirit of place" as Alice Meynell calls it? If he does sharply differentiate his scenes, how does he do it? By peculiar details? (Cf. Betsey Trotwood's house.) By sugges- tion of mystery? (Cf. The House of Seven Gables.) In this study of fiction we shall not ignore the ques- tion of style. 1 In the earlier years of the high school only the more obvious elements will be stressed. Later in the course — after the student has himself acquired more firmness, more flexibility, more maturity — the teacher will dwell upon whatever elements combine to give stylistic distinction to the individual author. It is not to be inferred from the enumeration of all these detailed suggestions that each novel taken up is to be subjected to the rigorous examination that in each case is possible. Such prolonged and minute study would in most cases become nauseating. The discus- sions in fiction classes should be quick, crisp, intense, and fascinating; and the study upon any one book should never be so prolonged as to suggest tedium. To spend ten or twelve weeks on a single novel — no dif- ference what its length — is pedagogically criminal. Most of these stories were written for rapid perusal, to offer the reader a few hours of interesting companion- ship, to bring him unconsciously into an attitude where 1 The question of style is more fully treated in the chapter on The Teaching of the Essay. Most of the suggestions offered there are applicable to style of the novel. 196 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH truth and beauty and virtue might be more graphically portrayed and more reverentially regarded. To pursue a method of study that destroys these aims is to de- vitalize the study of fiction. Two things — to be very concrete — it should be the aim of the teacher to create — (1) aesthetic enjoyment and (2) ethical response. If there is Aesthetic enjoyment the reader will see the charm of the story — the nicety of the plot construc- tion with its skillful weavings and interweavings of action, the appropriateness of the setting, the graphic portrayal of character that makes us see these per- sonages, not as names upon the page, but as living per- sonalities moving about in a world clearly realized. And combined with all this should be an appreciation of the author's style — reverence for the power which the writer has been able to exert over this instrument which he has selected as the medium of his artistic expression. If there is the right sort of ethical response the reader will be able to erect a more lofty ideal, or be able to bulwark the ideal that in the daily routine of his young life is so continually subject to attack and so continually in danger of toppling. In laying our stress upon the ethical, we may be going counter to the opin- ion of many competent literary critics and teachers who have strongly inveighed against comment upon the moral issues that a story presents. But these issues comprise elements implicit in all great literature, and THE TEACHING OF PROSE FICTION 197 interpretation is simply bringing the things that are implicit into clear, explicit view. If an opponent urges that the moral is and should be self-revealing, our reply is that oftentimes the moral message needs the same kind of elucidation and exposure that the intel- lectual message needs. Many teachers are of course incompetent to reveal the one just as they are incom- petent to reveal the other, but frequent lapses in the interpreter do not cancel the need of interpretation. Moreover, allegiance to these ideals that keep society unified needs repeated enforcements, and such discus- sions the study of fiction frequently invites. In it will oftentimes come from a single individual a stalwart avowal of some moral principle that will exert upon his classmates a splendid influence — an avowal that the rightly engendered atmosphere of the English recita- tion somehow righteously provokes. These ideas should be crisply and frankly met. To loiter with them is more pernicious than to neglect them. CHAPTER X THE TEACHING OF THE DRAMA, WITH PARTICULAR REFERENCE TO SHAKESPEARE In the approach to the teaching of any selected drama the paramount aim is to stimulate interest. The teacher must always be a strongly charged elec- tric battery. He must also be able to make skillful connections that will disturb quiet. This in itself is not sufficient; the interest must, of course, be set working along intelligent lines and be directed toward a wisely predetermined aim. Whatever the method of study — be it extensive or intensive — most teachers will secure the best results by first assigning a rapid reading of the whole play. If che play is short, encourage the students to read it through at a single sitting. Such an assignment takes less time than is currently supposed; Macbeth, for ex- ample, many students can complete in two hours. Or if the selected drama should chance to be playing in your city, the teacher could wisely advise his pupils to see the play. This, if substituted for the reading, would reveal to the student new dramatic possibilities and provide many valuable points for future discus- sions. The idea is to get a perspective view of the entire action — a conception vitally important for the intelligent mastery of the later details. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 199 The teacher must say something to generate a lively interest, to make the pupils genuinely eager to attack the reading. It is deadening to assign the book and merely give the laconic demand, " Read this play through by Wednesday." Make them, by your teach- ing art, want to read it through this afternoon. And your enthusiasm and your skill can quicken such a desire even in this day of social distractions and moving pictures and automobiles. Suppose the play is Macbeth, and you want your pupils to read it through. You can tell them that here is a play that is usually voted by seniors as the most popular play of the high-school course. You will in- terest them by calling their attention to what Winston Churchill, in A Far Country, makes Hugh Paret, re- viewing his Harvard experience, say about this great classic. He had not read Macbeth until he went to col- lege, and the lesson and spirit of the play impressed him as he had never been impressed before. It revealed with singular power the perils of personal ambition freed from control. Hugh Paret was able to apply this to his own situation and thus perceive how easily he himself might become the victim of an unworthy ambition. Or a teacher might turn incidentally to Malcolm's last speech and read the line that speaks of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth as " this dead butcher and his fiend- like queen." " I am going to ask you Wednesday," you may significantly add, " if you think that comment 200 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH of Malcolm's is a fair characterization of Lady Mac- beth. Was she a, fiend? By the way, I wonder if you can tell me in a day or two anything about Lady Mac- beth's death. There 's still another thing some of you may discover in your first reading — Who killed Banquo? Some critics think it was — No, I'll not anticipate too much." You have spent only two minutes in this interest- pricking device, but you have disturbed the lethargy of your class and gently plunged your rowels into their curiosity. If you want to make the reading a little more exact- ing and mandatory, — some classes demand this and others welcome it, — announce that as a means of test- ing this first reading you will give them on Wednesday a short-answer test. The teacher may tell the class that the short-answer test is made up of a series of ques- tions which can be answered very briefly — by a single word, by two or three words, or, at longest, by a short phrase. While the questions are being dictated by the teacher, students will be expected to write their an- swers rapidly. Immediately at the close of the dicta- tion the papers will be quickly exchanged and then graded by the pupils on a percentage basis, while the class discussion or the teacher's announcement is establishing each correct answer. The character of the questions may be seen from the following list, which is purposely made easy because it assumes a single rapid reading of the play: — THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 201 1. With whom was Duncan at war? 2. Who tells Duncan of Macbeth's bravery in the recent battle? 3. Who are especially praised for their bravery? 4. Of whose traitorous action does Ross bring news? 5. Who is with Macbeth when he meets the witches? 6. By what title do the witches first address Macbeth? 7. With what title does Duncan invest Malcolm? 8. How does Lady Macbeth get news of the weird sisters' salutations? 9. Who is Banquo's son? 10. After the murder where did Malcolm go? 11. Who discovers the murder? 12. Who supplies the humor interest in the play? 13. How many murderers attack Banquo? 14. Who is the mother of the witches? 15. To what country did Macduff go? 16. What thane is the victim of Macbeth's later murderous design? 17. Who escapes the three murderers? 18. In what castle did Macbeth finally seek refuge? 19. What is the manner of Lady Macbeth's death? 20. Who kills Macbeth? As an example of a more difficult test — to be given after a second or third reading — I am including a list of questions and answers on Antony and Cleopatra: — 1. In what city is the beginning action laid? Alexandria. 2. In what building are the first scenes enacted? Cleopa- tra's palace. 3. Who at the beginning is Antony's wife? Fulvia. 4. What god did Cleopatra and her waiting- women fre- quently address? I sis. 5. What three men are thought of in Philo's phrase, the triple pillar of the state? Antony, Lepidus, Octavius Casar. 6. What news did the messenger from Sicyon bring? Ful- via 's death. 202 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 7. What man, does Antony say, — Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands The empire of the sea? Sextus Pompeius. 8. To which of his men is Antony most confidential? Enobarbus. 9. To what family did Cleopatra belong? Ptolemy. 10. In the conversation between the other two members of the triumvirate which one is the more lenient in his judgment of Antony? Lepidus. 11. In her talk with Charmian, to what previous love does Cleopatra contrast her present love for Antony? Julius Coesar. 12. She also speaks of what other man who was enamored of her? Pompey the Great. 13. What two pirates were associated with Pompey? Mene~ crates and Menas. 14. Of the triumvirs which one did Pompey value most highly for soldiership? Antony. 15. Which one was the strongest advocate of peace? Lepidus. 16. Why, according to Antony, did Fulvia wage her wars against Lucius and Caesar? To bring Antony home. 17. To end the quarrel between Antony and Caesar what proposition does Agrippa make? Antony to marry Octavia. 18. Which of the Romans, in sympathy with Cleopatra, gives us the most detailed account of her charm and the charm of her Egyptian environment? Enobarbus. 19. Who specifically warned Antony against Caesar's plead- ing: "Make space enough between you"? Soothsayer. 20. Where was Ventidius sent? Parthia (or Syria). 21. What name did Cleopatra in flattery give to Antony's sword? Philippan. 22. After Antony's departure, what is the first message brought to Cleopatra from Rome? Antony's marriage. 23. What motive does Pompey say is prompting his threat- ened attack upon Rome? Ingratitude toward his father. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 203 24. Where was the conference between Pompey and the triumvirs held? Misenum. 25. By the terms of the treaty what territory is granted Pompey? Sicily and Sardinia. 26. Who was greatly disturbed by this decision? Menas. 27. What treacherous design does this man propose? Cut the cable and murder the triumvirs. 28. What dead body is brought on the stage in token of the victory in Syria? Pacorus, son of Orodes, the King. 29. What is the messenger's guess concerning Octavia's age? Thirty. 30. Which two of the Triumvirs later made war on Pompey? Casar and Lepidus. 31. Who was particularly outraged that Antony had made Cleopatra absolute queen of Syria, Cyprus, and Lydia? Coesar. 32. Who, according to report, was the father of Csesarion? Julius Coesar. 33. What goddess did Cleopatra impersonate? 7m. 34. What excuse does Octavius make for deposing Lepidus? Cruelty and abuse of authority. 35. Against what determination of Antony's, in his attack on Csesar, did Enobarbus, Canidius, and the soldier advise? To fight by sea. 36. Who was given command of Antony's land forces? Canidius. 37. What was the name of Cleopatra's ship? Antoniad. 38. Where was the fleet when Cleopatra deserted? Actium. 39. Who is sent to treat with Csesar? Euphronius, the schoolmaster. 40. What place of residence is Antony's first preference? Egypt. 41. His second? Athens. 42. What one thing does Cleopatra — according to Eu- phronius — specially request that she be allowed tore- tain? " Circle of the Ptolemies." 43. Csesar in refusing Antony's request replies that he will grant Cleopatra's wish on what condition? Exile or death of Antony. 204 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH 44. Who is sent by Caesar to treat with Cleopatra? Thyreits. 45. To what ignominy does Antony order the messenger to be subjected? Whipping. 46. What challenge does Antony send to Csesar? Personal combat. 47. In his speech bidding them farewell, what effect does Antony produce upon his servants? They weep. 48. Which one of Antony's friends deserts him? Enobar- bus. 49. What command does Antony give on hearing this? Treasure be sent. 50. What discovery — trivial in itself — forebodes to the augurers the defeat of Antony and Cleopatra? Swal- lows' nests. 51. To whom does Antony allude when he speaks of the Roman boy? Casar. 52. What was the name of Cleopatra's eunuch? Mardian. 53. Who, refusing to kill Antony at Antony's command, kills himself? Eros. 54. What false message did Cleopatra send to Antony? That she was dead. 55. What did Antony and Cleopatra each acutely dread, if taken to Rome? Exposure in pageants or triumph. 56. What did Dercetas take to Csesar? Antony's sword. 57. What did Cleopatra say to Proculeius that she would like to have for her son? Egypt. 58. With what did Cleopatra first try to kill herself? Dagger. 59. Who prevented this? Proculeius. 60. Who was false to Cleopatra in not affirming the truth of her false inventory? Her treasurer, Seleucus. 61. What fruit did the countryman bring to Cleopatra in her monument? Figs. 62. Who besides Cleopatra died from poisoned asps? Iras and Charmian. 63. By the side of whom does Csesar order Cleopatra buried? Antony. 64. Who makes the closing speech? Cwsar. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 205 The methods for Shakespearean study are various and they depend for their adoption upon many dif- ferent elements, such as the maturity of the class, the time that is available, the equipment of the library, the annotations of the edition in use, the interest of the teacher, and the teacher's skill in developing the pupils' acting powers. These, together with other con- siderations, will influence the choice of methods — especially whether the study shall be intensive or ex- tensive. Whatever the decision, there are a number of items that fundamentally belong to any method of studying the drama, and many more that deserve con- sideration in separate cases. The most important, it is believed, are to be found in the following enumeration. 1 i. Visualization. One primary design in the mind of every teacher of the drama should be to see that the students visualize the action. Whether they conceive the events as happening upon an artificial stage within a modern theater, or as actually happening where the playwright has imaginatively set the scene, — on the blasted heath, in Cleopatra's palace, on Gloucester's estates, or on the streets of Venice, — may be a de- batable point; but the necessity for picturing the ac- tion is not debatable. Pupils should be asked such questions as will develop their acute sensitiveness to the relative stage-position of the actors, their personal appearance, the costuming, the sound of the voice, and 1 Throughout the discussion special familiarity is assumed with two plays — Macbeth and Antony and Cleopatra; one usually read in high school, the other rarely read, but one with which all teachers should be familiar. 206 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH all other items that contribute to definite visualiza- tions and throw emphasis upon sense impressions and character differentiations. Where the language of the text provides the definite color sensation, all of us should be sure to grasp it and fit it into our created picture. Where Antony's friend Philo speaks contemp- tuously of Cleopatra's complexion as her tawny front, we should not neglect the item, though we may imag- inatively portray it, cleared from Philo's prejudice, as a beautiful olive brown — such as might beseem Cassiopeia or Prince Memnon's sister. Attention to visualization in dramatic study is all the more important because many of the pupils enter- ing the high school have read very few plays and have not acquired the power to externalize the action. The dramatic movement is usually more rapid than the narrative movement — with which they are most familiar — and the mode of expression is usually more concise. The playwright forms his dialogue with char- acters conceived as definitely placed. We cannot, therefore, always follow the words consecutively, but must follow them logically. For example, in Act n, Scene ii, of Antony and Cleopatra, we read the following : Lepidus. Here comes The noble Antony. Enter Antony and Ventiditjs. Enobarbus. And yonder, Caesar. Enter Cesar, Meoenas, and Agrippa. Antony. If we compose well here, to Parthia: Hark, Ventidius. Coesar. I do not know, Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 207 The unpracticed reader of drama, not visualizing the entrance clearly and accustomed to think of con- secutive lines bearing logically upon the lines next them, will fail to get the mental picture of Caesar walking in with Mecaenas and addressing him with the words that on the printed page follow Antony's speech but have absolutely no logical connection with it. Caesar is simply answering a question that Mecaenas is fancifully supposed to have asked before they en- tered. Shakespeare's design is to create naturalness — • Caesar's remark is a transcript from realism. Visualiz- ation here makes the interpretation easy; in most cases it not only aids in interpretation, but adds vastly to the enjoyment that comes from the perception of the sensory images that Shakespeare so lavishly creates and distributes. With that power developed within us, we can, as we read Antony and Cleopatra, enrich our vision with the splendid diversity of color that adorns Cleopatra and her attendants. We can see in the back- ground all the tapestried magnificence of her palace walls; our ears are attuned to the melody of her cap- tivating voice; and our sense of fragrance is gratified by the rare Oriental perfumes that her presence wafts. A similar demand for visualizing the situation is seen in Macbeth, Act i, scene iv, lines 54 ff . Macbeth speaking aside closes his speech by saying, — Yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. 208 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH The unpracticed reader may fail to imagine Duncan and Banquo eagerly engaged in conversation while Macbeth is speaking. Therefore they may try to connect this speech logically with the one of Duncan's which follows, — True, worthy Banquo: he is full so valiant. And in his commendations I am fed. That this is in reply to an imagined remark to Ban- quo's comment on Macbeth's bravery many students do not at once perceive. 2. Vocabulary and allusions. Closely connected with the demand that the reader must visualize the scene is the demand that Shakespeare's vocabulary and allu- sions require special attention. Visualization is often the key that unlocks the meaning of a passage, for it must be constantly borne in mind that Shakespeare thinks in images. Understanding the allusion the reader does not find the words difficult. Macbeth, for example, says, when hedged about by his attacking enemies, — They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course. To understand this, the young reader must know of the ancient practice of bear-baiting — the bear tied to a stake with a pack of dogs biting him. Shakespeare, writing this, saw the image; the pupil, reading it inter- pretatively, must likewise see it. We need to know, furthermore, that in many cases the words that Shakespeare used carried a different THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 209 connotation, and to interpret his use of presently, still, doubt, practice, invent, exhibition, and hundreds of others, we must learn what that connotation was in Elizabethan English. In the same way, our students must know that many allusions which were plain to all in Shakespeare's audience have lost their easy applica- tion and in some cases defy the ripest scholarship. If search in our notes clears up the allusion, we are re- paid; but as young people may not share our keen interest in the search, we should not make our study too minute — certainly not so minute as to endanger a loss of the beauty and the significance of the whole design. On the other hand, we should not be afraid of the intellectual approach. Upon the difficult passages we may make a wise but not a tedious pause. The maturity of our class and the immediate motive in mind will dictate the minuteness of the study. • - 3. Poetic appeal. We should be false to our concep- tion of teaching did we not try to arouse in our pupils a continually growing appreciation and reverence for the power of poetry. Deliberate pause and a teaching instinct are here essential. While a goodly portion of poetic beauty may be self -perceived by the gifted few, a majority of our pupils need to have their attention directed to the passages of marked excellence. The morrow's assignment may, among other things, be the selection of the most poetical passage in Act iv. When the class assembles, the variously selected passages may be read and the special poetical quality commented 210 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH upon. Scores upon scores of passages arrest us in Shakespeare; in Antony and Cleopatra we linger appre- ciatively upon this : — Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish; A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air; thou hast seen these signs; They are black vesper's pageants. That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, As water is in water. What a splendid image to bring out the superficial existence of human life, its inevitable transiency, the complete final absorption that eliminates all individu- ality! Yet without a pause upon the passage the un- trained pupils might not only fail to see that Antony is foreshadowing his own contemplated death, but they would, in many cases, fail to see the detailed beauty of the pictured vision. And this passage is but one among hundreds that might be successfully used to develop in the pupil the appreciation of poetical effects. 4. Memory assignment and dramatic presentation. To incite the pupil to retain such pictures as these and to enforce the emphasis upon certain significant char- acterizations or ethical truths, the teacher should de- mand a good deal of memory work in connection with this study of the drama. This practice offers the stu- dent excellent mental drill, unconsciously develops THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 211 poetic taste, and at the same time increases his work- ing vocabulary and secures the retention of poetical imagery. Its most important function is the help it gives the student by equipping him with selected norms which will direct toward a more accurate judg- ment of things aesthetic and things spiritual. As Mat- thew Arnold suggests, these memorized selections may be happily used in measuring the worth of other poetry. Nor should the assignment be limited to verse form; wisely selected prose passages thoroughly memorized may secure a ready response in the learner's style. The help which memory work offers the spirit is likewise apparent. It gives the student standards of moral and social judgment. The course should direct toward the development of character. Frequently this can be more strikingly effected in our dramatic study by selecting certain scenes and having them acted in the presence of the class or school. 5. Humor in drama. In previous generations teach- ers have been too prone to ignore the humor in litera- ture. As humor was something Shakespeare keenly perceived, it is something readers should keenly re- perceive. His habit of introducing it into his sternest tragedies should be dwelt upon and its effect carefully noted. The Porter's scene in Macbeth is something to linger over and enjoy. Lancelot Gobbo will afford amusement. If the pupils are reading The Tempest, scarcely anything can be better than to get three of the boys to act out the drunken scene of Stephano, 212 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH Trinculo, and Caliban. Until pointed out by the teacher few pupils realize the humor of the Stephano- Caliban head-by-foot arrangement under the gabar- dine. Its dramatic presentation before the class is an uproarious farce that cheers everybody. 6. Plot structure. Discussions on the plot are some- times so elaborate that they often merely darken counsel. In the earlier years of the high school it is far better to employ no highly technical phrases — phrases that the dramatic critics fittingly employ in their discussions addressed to the more mature, but which are too detailed for elementary study. Plot, in these earlier years, should be thought of merely as story, and enough plot material for the recitation is supplied by emphasizing the continuous course of the story and by bringing into prominence the ways in which the various threads cross and recross and finally complete the playwright's preconceived design. In the most advanced classes in the high school the dis- cussion may involve details more intricate, and may, if the teacher thinks it wise, embrace a consideration of the five divisions that Freytag names: (1) Introduc- tion; (2) Rising action; (3) Turning-point (Climax); (4) Falling action; (5) Catastrophe. 1 1 These terms are particularly applicable to tragedy. Those in- terested in seeing how they may be practically applied in the analy- sis of Antony and Cleopatra may be helped by the following: — A. Rising Action. Act i, Sc. i — Act in, Sc. v. 1. Introductory exposition. Act I, Sc. i, 11. 1-13. 2. Exciting force. Act I, Sc. i, 1. 14 — Act I, Sc. iii. 3. Working-out. Act I, Sc. iv, 1. 1 — Act in, Sc. iv. 4. Turning-point. Act in, Sc. iv. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 213 (1) The word introduction is almost self-revealing. The audience is told enough about the existing condi- tions that even the slower minds may understand the logical sequence of the succeeding events. Where the situation is not clearly presented, the audience finds it difficult to see the full significance of the events. It is precisely for this reason that many of Browning's dramas and dramatic monologues are baffling. Brown- ing habitually starts out in medias res and we have to make so many inferences and hold such a multitude of incidents in solution that the mind soon commences to tire and so loses its receptive power. Shakespeare, on the other hand, is conventional in his introduction. He takes the most exacting pains that each auditor — even the dullest apprentice — shall understand the existing background, the opening situation, and the relationship of the various characters. In Macbeth, the witches in their weird way suggest a diabolical design upon Macbeth and leave the stage to allow the bleeding sergeant and Ross to report to King Duncan — really to the audience — what Mac- beth has been bravely doing for the realm. With these two facts before us — the witches' evil intent and the knowledge of Macbeth's loyal bravery on behalf of his king — we are ready for the rising action to begin. B. Falling Action. 1. Tragic force. Act in, Sc. v — End. 2. Working-out. Act in, Sc. vii — Act iv, Sc. vii. 8. Final suspense. Act iv, Sc. vii — ■ Act iv, Sc. xiv, 1. 101. • 4. Catastrophe. Act iv, Sc. xiv, 1. 101 — End of play. 214 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH In Antony and Cleopatra, the " dotage " and en- slavement of Antony is first brought out analytically in the speech of Philo to Demetrius, followed by an objective display of this uxorious surrender to the gypsy's charm. Each scene in the first act reinforces this surrender by further display and analytical com- ment; but in the mean time messengers have come from Rome with news that disturbs the luxurious and volup- tuous repose which Antony would so willingly prolong. {2) Rising action. Every drama represents some sort of conflict. It may be an individual struggling with fate or environment, the evil nature struggling with the good, apathy in conflict with conceived duty, or other contesting abstractions. But on the modern stage the struggle is, as a rule, more concretely represented. Macbeth is seen in conflict with himself, but at once this introspective struggle yields to his conflict with Lady Macbeth. When he has yielded to this he later develops his antagonism to Banquo, Fleance, Mal- colm, and other opponents, until the catastrophe is reached in his fatal struggle with Macduff. The place where this germ of struggle asserts its initial activity, disturbing ever so slightly the repose of the opening situation, is the beginning of the rising action. The disturbing agency is the exciting force; the combina- tion of the action up to the turning-point composes, along with the introduction, the line of complication — the entanglement. In Antony and Cleopatra, the ex- citing force that pricks from restful Alexandrian in- THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 215 dulgence is the message from Rome, followed closely by the message from Sicyon announcing the death of Fulvia, Antony's wife, and urging Antony's immediate presence in Rome. The rising action continues to complicate and en- tangle. Conflicting forces assert themselves. Char- acters that are to dominate the latter half of the play are displayed in their growing power. In Macbeth, Banquo, Fleance, Malcolm, Macduff are displayed in their potential strength and give hints to the reader of Macbeth's ultimate downfall. In Antony and Cleo- patra, the attitude of Pompey and Octavius Csesar begin to show the possibilities of resistance, and — particularly in the case of Csesar — grow more menac- ing as the rising action continues. But this opposition is not yet controlling; the dominating character of the first part maintains his strength. (3) Turning-point. In Macbeth, as the action of the drama continues, it finally reaches a point where the character that dominates the play is at the height of a crucial struggle; the two forces have met in significant struggle; the conflict is momentarily seen in even bal- ance; finally the first force wavers and the second secures the advantage. This does not mean that the hero immediately fails; he may go on and win other successes, but his unquestioned control is lost and he has started down toward the catastrophe that awaits him at the foot of the hill. Macbeth from the start is successful; he wins one position after another, is made 216 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH king and asserts his absolute sway. Each action he undertakes is apparently brought to a successful issue as each one of his enemies is brought low. The climax comes when his exploit against Banquo is menacingly fringed with failure — the significant escape of Fleance. From this time on, while he meets with some success, the trend of his power is continuously downward and soon he begins to " wish the estate o' th' world were all undone." In Antony and Cleopatra, Antony's position in the rising action, while assured, is never so unquestionably assured as was Macbeth's. He has, however, as a triumvir, a strong position in the world; he has as his ally the great Cleopatra, with her transcendent power and the inherited wealth that accompanies the " circle of the Ptolemies." On the other hand, we see ranged against Antony the iron will and the adroit military genius of Octavius. The issue is seen when the two forces meet in naval battle at Actium. Cleopatra weakly flies and Antony more weakly follows. His career, like Macbeth's, reaches its turning-point and sadly fails. He feels that he is so lated in the world that he has lost his way forever. (4) Falling action. We have said that the prick that disturbs the opening repose and starts the rising action is called the exciting force. The push that starts the falling action we name the tragic force, and its continu- ance the working-out. Macbeth, in the midst of the banquet scene, is told of the escape of Fleance. He is THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 217 immediately unnerved, and except for Lady Macbeth might have completely revealed his crime against Banquo and against Duncan. As it is, suspicion, al- ready aroused, grows stronger against him. He meets with further opposition from the witches and from Malcolm and Macduff and is thus hurried to his doom. In Antony and Cleopatra, the flight from Actium has brought further dangers. Caesar has pursued the re- treating ships to Alexandria, and his presence supplies the exciting force. Antony's shame at his cowardly flight prompts him to regather his forces and again meet Caesar in battle. This adds, as do Macbeth's successes before the catastrophe, to the final suspense. (5) Catastrophe. The catastrophe comes with the death of the hero. It is usually deepened and intensi- fied by the death — either before or later — of other characters in the play, especially of those with whom the main character is most closely associated. The suicide of Lady Macbeth deepens the tragedy of Macbeth's death; Cleopatra's suicide deepens, with like intensity, the self-inflicted death of Antony. The play fittingly closes in " great solemnity." 7. Character study. Of all the various appeals in drama perhaps the one which makes the deepest im- pression upon young people, comes from observing the personalities of those who are concerned in the plot — those who act and those who are acted upon. While we shall not in our teaching wish completely to isolate the study of character from the study of plot, we shall 218 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH nevertheless wish many times to direct such emphasis upon character as will bring it prominently into the foreground of our thinking. Perhaps we shall wish first to remind our pupils of the analysis which we made in our study of prose fiction. There we found that the character of a person is portrayed in four distinct ways: — 1. By what the person says or fails to say. 2. By what the person does or fails to do. 3. By what is said about the person. 4. By what the person causes others to do. These four methods are equally applicable to the study of character as portrayed in drama. There is only one marked difference here between the privileges of the novelist and the dramatist. In portraying char- acter by the second method, the novelist can speak in his own person: in his critical comments he may direct special attention to such points as he may wish the reader to note; he may point out the specific changes wrought by time and experience. The drama- tist, on the other hand, usually keeps himself wholly in the background; he does not perform the part of the docent; he portrays his characters only by the words and actions of those who are brought upon the stage. l But this imposed limitation is not so narrowly re- strictive as the bare contrast might at first suggest. 1 The only exception to this is seen in the long and elaborate stage directions sometimes seen in the works of the more recent writers, notably Bernard Shaw. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 219 The very removal of the interpreting third person may make the scene and action more vivid; for drama, by the very directness of its nature, stimulates the reader to more intense imaginative activity. And if, instead of reading a drama, we are watching the actors upon the stage, we may see, by means of their costumes, gestures, modulation, and interplay, a more clean-cut delineation of character than any novelist — however skilled in analysis — could possibly make. It is thus seen that the bare assertion that the novelist has one privilege which is denied the dramatist is not to imply greater character-portraying power resting with the former; the advantages possessed by the dramatist in the particular lines which we have designated more than counteract such a limitation. As we make our application of the four methods of character portrayed to the play in hand we may find it practical to take any single character — Macbeth, Antony, Julius Caesar, Banquo, Brutus, Ophelia, or Shylock, for example — and have the pupils select the passages that bear directly upon these separate methods. Or one group in the class might confine its study to one of these methods while three other groups would respectively take the three other methods, the analysis centering upon a single character. We shall not, of course, wish to confine our study to these four methods, for as we proceed in our exam- ination we shall discover other angles of approach. We must never allow the study to be too minute or too 220 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH prolonged or too technical; we shall secure better re- sults by confining ourselves pretty closely to the more obvious and the more salient points. Teachers will very naturally wish to dwell upon the effects which one character makes upon another. As nothing is more interesting than this in life, so nothing is more interesting than this in drama. How marked is the influence which Lady Macbeth exerts upon her husband! Equally compelling and equally tragic is the influence which Cleopatra exerts upon Antony. Each decisive situation in their respective associations allows the student opportunity for a brief analysis of the nature and application of this feminine force. And this is only one of a multitude of examples that show the reaction of character upon character. The student will be further interested in noting how the dramatist enhances his effects by the use of char- acter contrast. In The Merchant of Venice, for example, the generosity of Antonio is the more strongly accen- tuated because it is seen in opposing juxtaposition with Shylock's avarice. In Hamlet the vacillation of the hero is the more marked because it is set off by the clear-cut decision of Fortinbras. In Julius Casar Brutus's candor is all the more apparent because it falls before the cunning of Mark Antony. In all these cases — and in many more which the student will dis- cover for himself — each of the dominant traits is more emphatically portrayed because it is thus brought into immediate touch with its contrasting type. THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 221 Equally interesting, but less rarely used as a device, is what Dr. Moulton calls the character foil. As defined by him the character foil is not the same as character contrast. Portia and Narissa are character foils; they are moulded in the same shaped form, but in Portia the prevailing traits are more obvious and more com- manding. Pupils, once they see these dual examples, will be interested in searching for others — individuals who thus set each other off by contrast in degree rather than by contrast in kind. There is one marked example in Hamlet where an artistic effect is secured by bringing together two char- acters, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and making them identical. They are neither character contrasts nor character foils. They bend their pregnant knees in perfect harmony and, completely undifferentiated, act their sycophantic parts. Rosencrantz and Guild- enstern; Guildenstern and Rosencrantz — the fact that the order is wholly immaterial helps to make their ready surrender of Hamlet's friendship the more despicable. A line of study which we may interestingly pursue in our study of fiction may be found equally profitable in the study of drama — the study of the development of character. In the first part of Julius Casar Antony is not felt to possess any special points of strength. He is seen in the shadow of Brutus. But as the play progresses his adroit and practical power develops and soon brings him into a position of unquestioned com- 222 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH mand and paramount strength. As his life is further portrayed in Antony and Cleopatra, however, we see that the trend is toward decadence. Under the be- guiling influence of Egypt's queen his patriotism falters and every fiber of his character gives way. Macbeth's character shows the same disintegrating trend, and readers become interested in noting each declining stage. The pupil will learn to be equally watchful for those characters which change for the better and those which change for the worse. The directed attention upon the foregoing points in character study should tend to give the student a clearer intellectual conception of each person in the drama. Seeing the characters in association with each other and noting the produced effects, the student will see each one brought into clear relief and into rela- tive strength. There should accompany this an equally clear conception of the ethical significance of those faults that invoke failure. The objective portrayal of tragic results almost inevitably weaves its subtle im- pression into the character of the young reader. And this is the best result of the study of drama in the schools. No teacher will wish, in this study of drama, to go so minutely into the analysis of plot or character as to detract from the aesthetic enjoyment of the selected play. The broad outlines of story and the general significance of sequent action, artistically rounding THE TEACHING OF SHAKESPEARE 223 toward the close, are the important considerations to bring into view. Along with this will come the gen- eral conception and the general significance of the characters. The analysis of technique is of value only when it makes the student more appreciative of the beauty of the play and more sensitive to the import of the ethical theme. CHAPTER XI THE TEACHING OF THE ESSAY As the types of essays which we admit into our English course represent mature thinking and are addressed to very mature minds, we shall need to approach our task of essay-teaching with unusual care and unusual preparation. Many of us will be helped in this approach by reminding ourselves that the essay form was, with most of us, the last of the lit- erary forms to win our own interest and appreciation. Our taste for story is innate, melody and rhyme de- light us in our juvenile years, we are early won by the concreteness of the drama; but a liking for the essay has, in most cases, to be carefully developed. This is particularly true if a writer deals principally with abstract subjects. We can, however, convince our pupils that the essay is capable of very simple treatment and is not neces- sarily the formidable object which they, in their youth- ful bias, have falsely imagined. A brief analysis will show them that when they themselves have written an account of how a certain game is played, or what their feelings are under certain specific conditions, they have adopted the simpler form of the expository essay. They have merely spoken out of their experience and THE TEACHING OF THE ESSAY 225 knowledge. And this, the pupils will learn, is the func- tion of the essayist; he sets forth in some sort of order the results of his thinking and knowing and feeling. The topics thus discussed and the forms of the discus- sion vary so widely that it is difficult to lay down any specific method which the teacher may adopt that invariably makes the easiest and deftest introduction to the study of the essay. There are, however, certain suggestions that may afford general assistance. i. Provide an interesting approach. The first essen- tial demand is to arouse an interest in the topic which the essayist is to discuss. If we are planning, for example, to take up the study of Carlyle's Essay on Burns with our senior classes, we shall find it profitable to precede this study with a reading of Burns's selected powers and with the narration — by teacher or pupil — of many interesting facts about Burns and his peas- ant life in Scotland. On taking up this essay on Burns, the pupils will then be interested in knowing that Carlyle was a Scotchman, that his father was a stone mason, and that the similarity in the early environment of the two authors thus makes it natural for Carlyle to understand Burns's struggles and triumphs and write intelligently and sympathetically about them. Again, interest in a particular essay may sometimes be opportunely established by connecting it with some current school activity. Your senior class has held an entertainment and wishes to spend its newly acquired funds in the purchase of a set of books for the school 226 THE TEACHING OF ENGLISH library. While interest in books is rife, select that time for the reading of Ruskin's Sesame and Lilies, or some essay that exalts the value of reading and the in- spirational power of books. Whatever the essay we are studying, then, the method of approach will be designed to establish a connection with the preceding task or the present moment and to arouse a keen in- terest in the new assignment. 2. Our second consideration questions the char- acter of the first reading assignment. Shall we ask the pupils to read the essay through in order that they may get a general view of the whole, or shall we first take it up in sections? If the essay is short and easy to comprehend, most teachers will find it desirable to have the pupils read the essay entire before taking it up for more careful study. If, however, the essay is too long, too obscure in thought, or too involved in phrasing, this general view may be given by the teacher or by some specially competent pupil. Again, if the essay is of undue length or if it is easily divisi- ble into distinct parts, — as is true of Carlyle's Essay on Burns and Emerson's American Scholar, — these parts may be serially taken up and their connection with the whole and with each other later established. 3. Studying the structure and making an outline. The study of certain selected essays may be justified because of the hints they give the student along the lines of structure. One of the best of these, as ex- perienced teachers will testify, is Palmer's Self-Cultiva- THE TEACHING OF THE ESSAY ■ .# v- ^ . ■* .-A' A' v . •> ,w> % ^ './- -s? ^ :S*-^ •>* -\ . ■ '" ^ cj •>•* ' v v '-y- ,. \\ >% ■p * +* ',** c- i c> ^ * ** s "^c •V s cS <>. © V ^