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Charles Herbert Sylvester
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Title: Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 10
The Guide
Author: Charles Herbert Sylvester
Release Date: March 16, 2008 [eBook #24857]
Language: English
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JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND
A New and Original
Plan for Reading Applied to the
World's Best Literature
for Children
by
CHARLES H. SYLVESTER
Author of English and American Literature
VOLUME TEN--THE GUIDE
New Edition
For parents, teachers, and all who have
children under their charge; for adults
who wish to renew their acquaintance
with the friends of their youth, or to
open for the first time the world's great
treasure house of literature; for youthful
readers who must study the classics
[Illustration: OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
WASHINGTON IRVING
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT]
Chicago
Bellows-Reeve Company
Publishers
Copyright, 1922
Bellows-Reeve Company
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. INTRODUCTION 1
II. JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND--ITS CONTENTS AND PLAN 7
The Masterpieces 9
Arrangement and Grading 10
The Studies and Helps 13
Studies 15
Notes 15
Introductory Notes 15
Biographies 16
Pronouncing Vocabularies 16
Pictures 17
Tables of Contents 17
Index 17
The Nursery Rhymes 18
Discussion of each Volume 24
Volume One 24
Volume Two 26
Volume Three 28
Volume Four 29
Volume Five 29
Volume Six 30
Volume Seven 31
Volume Eight 33
Volume Nine 34
Volume Ten--The Guide 35
III. PICTURES AND THEIR USE 36
What Should We Notice in a Picture? 36
Line 36
Light and Shade 37
Tone and Color 39
Composition 39
Atmosphere and Perspective 40
Application of Principles 41
_Bob and Tiny Tim_ 41
Pictures and Their Value in Literature 44
On the Use of Pictures in _Journeys_ 48
_Nursery Rhymes_ 51
_Jack and the Beanstalk_ 52
_Nurse Helps Me when I Embark_ 52
_Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_ 53
_Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks_ 54
_Tom and the Dragon Fly_ 55
_The Swallow and the Stork Came_ 55
_Down Tumbled Wheelbarrow_ 58
_Geraint Hears Enid Singing_ 60
IV. TELLING STORIES 63
_The Fairies of the Caldon-Low_ 68
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_ 71
_The Ballad of Agincourt_ 74
_Hervé Riel_ 78
V. READING, AND THE BUILDING OF CHARACTER 85
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_ 95
_Lead, Kindly Light_ 98
_Poor Richard's Almanac_ 101
VI. FATHER AND SON 107
VII. MEMORIZING 128
One Hundred Choice Quotations 131
VIII. HOW TO READ FICTION 143
Different Kinds of Literature 143
Reading Stories 145
Plot 149
_Cinderella_ 150
Persons 156
_The Hardy Tin Soldier_ 158
The Scenes 162
_The Dog and His Shadow_ 164
_The Fox and the Stork_ 166
_A Christmas Carol_ 168
The Lesson and the Author's Purpose 170
_The Fir Tree_ 173
The Method and Style of the Author 174
Emotional Power 176
_Rab and His Friends_ 177
General Principles and Reflections 181
Completed Studies 185
_The Hare and the Tortoise_ 185
_The Fox and the Crow_ 187
_The Drummer_ 193
_Tom, the Water Baby_ 198
_The Passing of Arthur_ 214
IX. CLOSE READING OR STUDY 224
_Rab and His Friends_ 225
_Braddock's Defeat_ 227
_Industry and Sloth_ 229
_Why the Sea is Salt_ 231
_Faithless Sally Brown_ 232
_The Definition of a Gentleman_ 234
_Adventures in Lilliput_ 235
_The Heart of Bruce_ 238
_Annie Laurie_ 243
_The Lost Child_ 243
_David Crockett in the Creek War_ 244
_The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_ 248
From _The Death of Cæsar_ 253
X. CLOSE READING (Concluded) 256
The Author 257
Sentences 258
Figures of Speech 259
Allusions 259
Basis of Figures 262
Simile 263
Metaphor 264
Synecdoche and Metonymy 265
Apostrophe and Personification 266
Studies in Figures 268
_Ode to a Skylark_ 268
_A Visit from Saint Nicholas_ 270
_The First Snowfall_ 270
XI. READING POETRY 272
_The Reaper and the Flowers_ 272
_The Brown Thrush_ 276
_The Child's World_ 277
_Seven Times One_ 278
_The First Snowfall_ 281
_The Potato_ 285
_Origin of the Opal_ 285
_The Barefoot Boy_ 286
_The Bugle Song_ 287
_The Petrified Fern_ 291
_The Forsaken Merman_ 295
_The Cloud_ 301
_Ode to a Skylark_ 306
XII. READING ALOUD 311
Articulation and Enunciation 311
Emphasis and Inflection 312
Emotional States 312
Pitch 312
Rate or Time 313
Quality 315
Force 315
XIII. LITERATURE AND ITS FORMS 317
Prose 318
Methods of Expression 318
Narration 318
Description 321
Exposition 321
Argumentation 322
Forms of Prose 322
Fiction 322
Essays 322
Orations 324
Drama 325
Poetry 327
Structure of Poetry 328
Rhythm 328
Rhyme 329
Alliteration 330
Kinds of Poetry 331
Epic 331
Lyric 333
Songs 333
Ode 335
Elegy 335
Sonnet 337
_Victor and Vanquished_ 338
Dramatic 339
Miracle Plays 340
Morality Plays 340
Masques 341
Tragedies and Comedies 341
XIV. JOURNEYS IN ITS RELATION TO THE SCHOOL--READING AND
LANGUAGE 345
Reading 348
Language 349
Oral Lessons 352
_The Wind and the Sun_ 357
Written Lessons 360
Introduction 360
Literature in Written Lessons 363
Narration 363
_Robin Hood and the Stranger_ 363
Description 365
_The King of the Golden River_ 366
Exposition 368
_Cid Campeador_ 368
Argument 370
_The Boston Massacre_ 370
Conclusion 376
_An Exciting Canoe Race_ 376
XV. JOURNEYS IN ITS RELATION TO THE SCHOOL--NATURE STUDY 380
Seven Long Selections 381
_Tom, the Water Baby_ 381
_Robinson Crusoe_ 382
_The Swiss Family Robinson_ 382
_Brute Neighbors_ 383
_The Pond in Winter_ 384
_Winter Animals_ 384
_Trees and Ants that Help Each Other_ 385
Classified Selections 386
Flowers and Plant Life 386
Birds 387
Four-footed Animals 389
Reptiles 391
Insects 391
Denizens of the Water 391
Natural Phenomena 392
Geography in Nature 392
Complete Study 393
_The King of the Golden River_ 393
XVI. JOURNEYS IN ITS RELATION TO THE SCHOOL--GEOGRAPHY AND
HISTORY 400
Classified References 402
Model Geography Lesson 411
The Wind 411
Model History Lessons 413
Alfred the Great 413
Burgoyne's Campaign 419
XVII. JOURNEYS IN ITS RELATION TO THE HIGH SCHOOL 425
Classification of Studies 427
Type Studies 431
XVIII. RECITATIONS AND SPECIAL DAYS IN SCHOOL 436
Bird Day 437
Memorial Day 438
Christmas 438
Birthdays 438
Dramatization 439
An Old-Fashioned Afternoon 440
XIX. HANDY LIST OF THE STUDIES IN JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND 441
Volume One 442
Volume Two 443
Volume Three 445
Volume Four 446
Volume Five 446
Volume Six 447
Volume Seven 448
Volume Eight 449
Volume Nine 449
XX. SUPPLEMENTARY BOOK LISTS 451
For the Separate Volumes 454
Volume One 454
Volume Two 455
Volume Three 457
Volume Four 458
Volume Five 459
Volume Six 460
Volume Seven 461
Classified Lists 462
Fiction 463
Poetry and Drama 464
Essays 464
Nature 465
Biography 465
History 465
Travel and Geography 466
Miscellaneous 466
APPENDIX--
Handy Table of English Writers 469
Handy Table of American Writers 473
GENERAL INDEX 475
ILLUSTRATIONS
HALFTONE PORTRAITS OF AUTHORS
PAGE
GROUP ONE Frontispiece
_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_
_Oliver Wendell Holmes_
_Nathaniel Hawthorne_
_Washington Irving_
_John Greenleaf Whittier_
_James Russell Lowell_
_William Cullen Bryant_
GROUP TWO 52
_William Shakespeare_
_Alfred, Lord Tennyson_
_Robert Browning_
_Sir Walter Scott_
_William Wordsworth_
_Geoffrey Chaucer_
_Joseph Addison_
GROUP THREE 100
_Cardinal Newman_
_Sir Francis Bacon_
_Jonathan Swift_
_Daniel Defoe_
_Cardinal Wiseman_
_Cervantes_
_Father Ryan_
GROUP FOUR 148
_Julia Ward Howe_
_Benjamin Franklin_
_Henry David Thoreau_
_Patrick Henry_
_William H. Prescott_
_Francis Parkman_
_James Fenimore Cooper_
GROUP FIVE 198
_Edgar Allan Poe_
_Donald G. Mitchell_
_James Whitcomb Riley_
_Thomas Buchanan Read_
_Eugene Field_
_John Howard Payne_
_John G. Saxe_
GROUP SIX 246
_Elizabeth Barrett Browning_
_Phoebe Cary_
_Alice Cary_
_Lucy Larcom_
_Felicia Hemans_
_George Eliot_
_Jean Ingelow_
GROUP SEVEN 294
_Robert Burns_
_Robert Southey_
_William Cowper_
_Lord Byron_
_John Keats_
_Percy Bysshe Shelley_
_Samuel Taylor Coleridge_
GROUP EIGHT 342
_Rudyard Kipling_
_Robert Louis Stevenson_
_Paul Du Chaillu_
_Thomas Hughes_
_Hans Christian Andersen_
_Jakob Grimm_
_Wilhelm Grimm_
GROUP NINE 400
_John Ruskin_
_Oliver Goldsmith_
_Matthew Arnold_
_Thomas Babington Macaulay_
_John Bunyan_
_Thomas De Quincey_
_Charles Lamb_
GROUP TEN 454
_John Tyndall_
_Charles Kingsley_
_Thomas Moore_
_Alexander Pope_
_Thomas Campbell_
_David Livingstone_
_George MacDonald_
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTION
Everyone who associates with children becomes deeply interested in them.
Their helplessness during their early years appeals warmly to sympathy;
their acute desire to learn and their responsiveness to suggestion make
teaching a delight; their loyalty and devotion warm the heart and
inspire the wish to do the things that count for most. Everything
combines to increase a sense of responsibility and to make the elders
active in bringing to bear those influences that make for character,
power and success.
Every worthy teacher in every school gives more than her salary commands
and puts heart power into every act. By example and precept the lessons
are taught and growth follows in response to cultivation. But the
schools are handicapped by lack of time for much personal care, by lack
of facilities for the best of instruction and by the multiplicity of
things that must be done. Under the best conditions a teacher has but a
small part of a child's time and then instruction must be given usually
to classes and not to individuals. Outside of school for a considerable
time each day the child falls under the influence of playmates who may
or may not be helpful, but the greater part of every twenty-four hours
belongs to the home.
Parents, guardians, brothers and sisters, servants, consciously or
unconsciously, wisely or unwisely, are teaching all the time. It is from
this great complex of influences that every child builds his character
and lays the foundation of whatever success he afterwards achieves.
Undoubtedly the home is the greatest single influence and that is
strongest during the early years. Before a boy is seven the elements of
his character begin to form; by the time he is fourteen his future
usually can be predicted, and after he is twenty, few real changes are
brought about in the character of the man. The schools can do little
more than plant the seeds of culture; in the family must the young
plants be watered, nourished and trained. Then will the growth be
symmetrical and beautiful.
When the school and the home work together, when parents and teacher are
in hearty sympathy, the great work is easily accomplished. But this
harmony in interest is difficult to secure. In the first place it is not
possible frequently for parents and teachers to become acquainted;
usually is it impossible for them to know one another intimately. Here
there are two forces, each ignorant of the other, but both trying for a
common end. Again, parents in many, many instances are not acquainted
with the schools nor with the methods of instruction which are followed
therein. What is done by one may be undone by the other. If there could
be a common ground of meeting, much labor would be saved and greater
harmony of effort established.
When fathers and mothers are willing to take time enough from their
other duties to show that sympathetic interest in juvenile tasks which
is the greatest stimulus to intelligent effort, when they wish to know
what work each child is doing and where in each text book his lessons
are, when the multiplication table and the story of Cinderella are of as
much importance as the price of meat or the profit on a yard of silk,
then will the parents and the teachers come together in whatever field
appears mutually acceptable.
Everybody reads, and reading is now the greatest single influence upon
humanity. The day of the orator has passed, the day of print has long
been upon us. No adult remains long uninfluenced by what he reads
persistently, and every child receives more impressions from his reading
than from all other sources put together.
Someone has shown forcibly by a graphic diagram the ideas we are most
anxious to establish. In this diagram of _Forces in Education_, the
circle represents the sum total of all those influences which tend to
make the mind and character of the growing child. That half of the
circle to the right of the heavy line represents the forces of the
school; the half to the left, the forces that come into play outside the
teacher's domain. In school are the various studies taught; reading,
writing, language, nature, geography, history, arithmetic. Other things
such as morals, manners, hygiene, etc., come in for their share of force
in the division "Miscellaneous." Out of school the child's work
influences him; his playmates affect him more; the example and
instruction of his parents form his habits, thought and character to a
still greater extent; but more than any one, as much as the three
combined, does his home reading shape his destiny.
[Illustration]
That this last statement is no exaggeration is proved by the testimony
of many a wise and thoughtful man, by the observation of teachers
everywhere. When a child has learned to read, he possesses the
instrument of highest culture, but at the same time the instrument of
greater danger. Bad books or bad methods of reading good books lead the
reader's mind astray or stimulate a destructive imagination that affects
character forever; but good books and right methods of reading make the
soul sensitive to right and wrong, improve the mind, inspire to higher
ideals and lead to loftier effort.
Here is the one fertile field wherein teacher, parent and every other
person interested in the welfare of children and youth may meet and work
together in the noblest cause God ever gave us the grace to see.
"I have a notion," said Benjamin Harrison, "that children are about the
only people we can do anything for. When we get to be men and women we
are either spoiled or improved. The work is done." One of the best
things we can do is to create a taste for good reading and cultivate a
habit of reading in the right manner. It is an easy and a delightful
task.
How many parents do it? Let them live with their children in the realm
the little ones love. Let them read the fairy tales, the myths, the
stories, the history that childhood appreciates, not in a spirit of
criticism or in the role of a dictator but as a child of a little larger
growth, a man or woman with a youthful mind.
How many teachers assist? By so teaching that reading becomes an
inspiration in itself; that only mastery contents; that beauty, high
sentiment, lofty ideals may be found and followed; by making the reading
recitation the one delightful hour of the day.
If any mature person at home can spend each week a few hours in reading
and talking with the children about what has been read he will be
surprised to find how lightly the time passes and how quickly his own
cares and anxieties are dissipated. He will find greater delight than he
has ever known in the society of his equals; and the younger ones, whose
minds glow with helpful curiosity and absorbing interest will be kept
to that extent from the street and its attractions, while at the same
time they are learning those things that count for most in life's great
battle.
Let no one feel in the least uncertain of his power to interest and
delight. Let him have no hesitation in joining in with the children, in
meeting them on their level and in sharing thought and feeling with
them. By being a child himself he most easily makes of himself a wise
and inspiring leader.
CHAPTER II
JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND--ITS CONTENTS AND PLAN
_Journeys Through Bookland_ is what the title signifies, a series of
excursions into the field of the world's greatest literature.
Accordingly, the base of the work is laid in those great classics that,
since first they found expression in words, have been the education and
inspiration of man. But these excursions are taken hand-in-hand with a
leader, whose province it is to explain, to interpret, to guide and to
direct. Suiting his labors to the age and acquirement of the readers he
helps them all, from the child halting in his early attempts to
interpret the printed page to the high school or college student who
wishes to master the innermost secrets of literature. In no small sense
is this leadership a labor of love, for it follows an experience of
twenty years of personal instruction in the public schools and among the
teachers of the country.
_Journeys Through Bookland_ must be considered as a unit; for one plan,
one purpose, controls from the first page of the first volume to the
last page of the tenth. The literary selections were not chosen
haphazard nor were they graded and arranged after any ordinary plan. In
this respect they differ in character and arrangement from the
selections in any other work now upon the market.
Moreover, the notes, interpretations, original articles and multifarious
helps are an integral part and are inseparable. In this respect, again,
is the work original and unique.
Further, the pictures, of which there are many hundreds, were drawn or
painted expressly for _Journeys Through Bookland_ and are as much a part
of the general scheme as any other help to appreciation. Again, the type
page, the decorations, the paper, binding and endsheets, all combine to
give an artistic setting to literary masterpieces and a stimulating
atmosphere for literary study.
The masterpieces which make the field of the _Journeys_ naturally fall
into three classes. First, there is the literature of culture, those
things which you and I and everybody must know if we expect to be
considered educated or to be able to read with intelligence and
appreciation the current writings of the day. To this class belong all
those nursery rhymes, lyrics, classic myths, legends and so on to which
allusion is constantly made and which are themselves the legal tender of
polite and cultured conversation. Next, there are those selections whose
power lies in the profound influence they exert upon the unfolding
character of boy or girl. As a child readeth so is he. Masterpieces of
this type abound in the books and it is by means of them that the author
hopes and expects to exert his greatest influence upon his unknown
friends among the children. The third group consists of the masterpieces
which lend interest to school work and make it pleasanter, easier and
more profitable. It is what some may call the practical side of
literature. It is what, at first, appeals most strongly to those who
have read little, but which ultimately appears of less value than the
influence of cultural and character-building literature.
Any treatment of _Journeys_ that is worthy of the name must consider the
masterpieces themselves in their three great functions, as well as the
devices by which the selections are made effective.
_1. The Masterpieces_
The table of contents at the beginning of each volume shows a wide
selection of the best things that have ever been written for
children--not always the new things, but always the best things for the
purpose. The masterpieces are the tried and true ones that have long
been popular with children and have formed a large part of the literary
education of the race.
There are a host of complete masterpieces and many selections from other
works which are too long to print here or which are otherwise
unavailable. It has often happened that something written for older
heads and for serious purposes has in it some of the most charming and
helpful things for the young. For instance, _Gulliver's Travels_ is a
political satire, and as such it is long since dead. Yet parts of it
make the most fascinating reading for children. Moreover, Swift and many
other great writers defiled their pages with matter which ought to be
unprintable. To bring together the good things from such writers, to
reprint them with all the graces of style they originally possessed, and
yet so carefully to edit them that there can be no suggestion of
offense, has been the constant aim of the writer.
The books contain, too, many beautiful selections translated from
foreign languages and made fresh, attractive and inspiring. Many of the
old fables and folk stories have been rewritten, but others which have
existed long in good form have been left untouched. In the great
masterpieces no liberties have been taken with the text without making
known the fact, and in every case the most reliable edition has been
followed. It is hoped that children will have nothing to "unlearn" from
the reading of these books.
There are not a few old things in the set that are really new, because
they have heretofore been inaccessible to children except in musty books
not likely to be met.
This is no haphazard collection made hastily, and largely at the
suggestion of others. Everything in the books has been read and reread
by the writer. True, he has availed himself of the help of others, and
to many his obligations are deep and lasting; but in the end the
responsibility for selection and for the quantity and quality of the
helps is wholly his.
_2. Arrangement and Grading_
The contents of the books have been graded from the nursery rhymes in
the first volume to the rather difficult selections in the ninth volume.
In the arrangement, however, not all the simplest reading is in the
first volume. It might be better understood if we say that one volume
overlaps another, so that, for instance, the latter part of the first
volume is more difficult than the first part of the second volume. When
a child is able to read in the third volume he will find something to
interest him in all the volumes.
What has been said, however, does not wholly explain the system of
arrangement. Fiction, poetry, essays, biography, nature-study, science
and history are all fairly represented in the selections, but no book is
given over exclusively to any subject. Rather is it so arranged that the
child who reads by course will traverse nearly every subject in every
volume, and to him the different subjects will be presented logically in
the order in which his growing mind demands them. We might say that as
he reads from volume to volume, he travels in an ever widening and
rising spiral. The fiction of the first volume consists of fables, fairy
tales and folk stories; the poetry of nursery rhymes and children's
verses; the biography of anecdotal sketches of Field and Stevenson; and
history is suggested in the quaintly written _Story of Joseph_. On a
subsequent turn of the spiral are found fiction from Scott and Swift;
poetry from Homer, Vergil, Hay, Gilbert and Tennyson; hero stories from
Malory; history from Washington Irving.
If, however, some inquiring young person should wish to read all there
is on history, biography or any other subject, the full index in the
tenth volume will show him where everything of the nature he wishes is
to be found.
Another valuable feature of arrangement is the frequent bringing
together of selections that bear some relation to one another. A simple
cycle of this sort may be seen where in the eighth volume the account of
Lord Nelson's great naval victory is followed by _Casabianca_; a better
one where in the fifth volume there is an account of King Arthur,
followed by tales of the Round Table Knights from Malory, and _Geraint
and Enid_ and _The Passing of Arthur_ from Tennyson. By this plan one
selection serves as the setting for another, and a child often can see
how the real things of life prove the inspiration for great writers.
Again, in the fourth volume is _The Pine Tree Shillings_, a New England
story or tradition for girls; this is followed immediately by _The
Sunken Treasure_, a vivid story for boys; next comes _The Hutchinson
Mob_, a semi-historical sketch, followed in turn by _The Boston
Massacre_, which is pure history. The cycle is completed by _The Landing
of the Pilgrims_ and _Sheridan's Ride_, two historical poems.
_Graphic Classification of Masterpieces_ on page 14 will show more
clearly what is meant by the overlapping of subjects. In the column at
the left are given the names of the subjects under which the selections
have been classified, running from _Fables_ to _Drama_, and _Studies_,
the last name including all the varied helps given by the author. Across
the top of the table the Roman numerals, I to X, indicate the numbers of
the ten volumes. The shading in the squares shows the relative quantity
of material. In using the _Classification_, "read across to learn in
which volume the subjects are treated; read down to find what each
volume contains." Thus: The first volume contains (reading down), a
great many fables, many fairy stories and much folk lore, a few myths
and old stories, a little biography, some biblical or religious
material, selections that may be classified under the heads of nature,
humor and poetry; but there is no account of legendary heroes, no travel
and adventure, no history, nothing of a patriotic nature and no drama.
On the other hand (reading across), there are many fables in the first
volume, a few in the second but none thereafter; a few myths and some
classic literature are found in the first three volumes, more in the
fourth and fifth, but the number and quantity decrease in the sixth and
do not appear thereafter; nature work is to be found in all the volumes
but is strongest in the seventh; drama appears in the eighth and the
ninth. Biography has a place in all volumes, but is strongest in the
seventh; while the Studies, appearing in all volumes, reach their
highest point in the tenth.
_3. The Studies and Helps_
As has been said, the chief factors in making _Journeys Through
Bookland_ unique and of greatest value are the many helps that are given
the readers, young and old. These helps are varied in character and are
widely distributed through the volumes. They must be considered one at a
time by the person who would assist others to use them to the best
purpose. These helps consist of what are technically known as studies,
notes, introductory notes, biographies, pronouncing vocabularies,
pictures, tables of contents and index. The following comments will make
clear the purpose of each.
GRAPHIC CLASSIFICATION OF MASTERPIECES
--------------------------------------------------------------------
| | | | | | | | | | | |
| Analysis | I | II |III | IV | V | VI |VII |VIII| IX | X |
| | | | | | | | | | | |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ |
| |++++|----| | | | | | | | |
| Fables |++++|----| | | | | | | | V |
| |++++|----| | | | | | | | o |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ l |
| Fairy Stories |++++|++++|----| | | | | | | u |
| Folk Lore |++++|++++|----| | | | | | | m |
| |++++|++++|----| | | | | | | e |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ |
| Stories Old |----|----|----|++++|++++|++++|++++|----|----| X |
| and New |----|----|----|++++|++++|++++|++++|----|----| |
| |----|----|----|++++|++++|++++|++++|----|----| i |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ s |
| Myths and |----|----|----|++++|++++|++++| | | | |
| Classic |----|----|----|++++|++++|++++| | | | a |
| Literature |----|----|----|++++|++++|++++| | | | |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ G |
| Legendary | | |----|++++|++++|++++| | | | u |
| Heroes | | |----|++++|++++|++++| | | | i |
| | | |----|++++|++++|++++| | | | d |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ e |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|++++|++++|----| |
| Biography |----|----|----|----|----|----|++++|++++|----| f |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|++++|++++|----| o |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ r |
| Travel and | | | |----|----|----|----|++++|----| |
| Adventure | | | |----|----|----|----|++++|----| P |
| | | | |----|----|----|----|++++|----| a |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ r |
| | | | |----|----|----|----|++++|++++| e |
| History | | | |----|----|----|----|++++|++++| n |
| | | | |----|----|----|----|++++|++++| t |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ s, |
| Biblical, |----|----| |----|----|----|----| |----| |
| Moral, |----|----| |----|----|----|----| |----| T |
| Religious |----|----| |----|----|----|----| |----| e |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ a |
| | | |----|----|----|----|----|++++|++++| c |
| Patriotism | | |----|----|----|----|----|++++|++++| h |
| | | |----|----|----|----|----|++++|++++| e |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ r |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|++++|----|----| s |
| Nature |----|----|----|----|----|----|++++|----|----| |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|++++|----|----| a |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ n |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----| d |
| Humor |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----| |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----| S |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ t |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----| u |
| Poetry |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----| d |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----| e |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ n |
| | | | | | | | |----|----| t |
| Drama | | | | | | | |----|----| s |
| | | | | | | | |----|----| |
----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|++++| |
| Studies |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|++++| |
| |----|----|----|----|----|----|----|----|++++| |
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Read across to learn in which volumes the subjects are treated;
read down to find what each volume contains.
_a. Studies._ Every volume contains a large number of helps of different
kinds for young people. Usually these are in connection with some
selection and are adapted to the age of the boy or girl most likely to
read the piece. As each study is presented in an interesting and
informal manner and does not cover many points, it is felt that young
people will enjoy them only less than the masterpieces themselves.
The studies are arranged as systematically as the selections, and are
graded even more carefully. Their scope and method will be more fully
explained in subsequent sections of this volume.
_b. Notes._ These consist of explanatory notes, that are placed wherever
they seem to be needed. They explain words not usually found readily in
the dictionaries, foreign phrases, and such historical or other
allusions as are necessary to an understanding of the text by youthful
readers. These notes are placed at the bottom of the page that needs
explanation, and so are immediately available. In such a position they
are more liable to be read than if gathered together at the end of the
volume. They are neither formal nor pedantic, and are as brief as is
consistent with clearness. Their purpose is to help the reader, not to
show the writer's knowledge.
_c. Introductory Notes._ At the heads of selections from longer
masterpieces are introductory notes which give some little account of
the larger work and enough of the context so that the selection may not
seem a fragment. In some instances this note gives the historical
setting of a masterpiece or tells something of the circumstances under
which it was written, when those facts help to an appreciation of the
selection. Sometimes an acquaintance with the personality of an author
is so necessary to a clear understanding of what he writes that a brief
sketch of his life or a few anecdotes that show his character are given
in the note preceding what he has written. These notes are printed in
the same type as the text, especially in the first four volumes, for
they are felt to be worthy of equal consideration.
_d. Biographies._ Besides the biographical notes appended to selections,
there are not a few more pretentious sketches that have been given
prominent titles in the body of the books. These have been prepared
expressly for this work, either by the editor or by some one fully
acquainted with the subject and accustomed to writing for young people.
These biographies are written from the point of view of young people,
and contain the things that boys and girls like to know about their
favorite authors or some of the noble men and women whose lives have
made this world a better and a happier place in which to live. In the
earlier volumes they are brief, simple, and largely made up of
anecdotes; later they are more mature, and show something of the reasons
that make the lives interesting and valuable material for studies. There
are, also, in the books a few lengthy extracts from some of the world's
great biographies. Care has been exercised in the selection of these, so
that in each case, while the extract is of interest to young people, it
is also fairly representative of the larger work from which it has been
taken.
_e. Pronouncing Vocabularies._ Children often find difficulty in
pronouncing proper names, and not many have at hand any books from which
they can obtain the information. At the end of every volume is a list of
the important proper names in that book, and after each name the
pronunciation is given phonetically, so that no dictionary or other
reference work is necessary. Since each volume has its own list, it is
not necessary even to lay down the book in hand and take up the last
volume.
_f. Pictures._ The illustrations in the several volumes form one great
feature in the general plan. They alone will do much to interest
children in the reading, and if attention is called to them they will be
found to increase in value. The color plates in each volume, the
numerous fine halftones of special design, and the hundreds of pen and
ink drawings that illuminate the text have been painted and drawn for
these books, and will be found nowhere else. More than twenty artists
have given their skill and enthusiasm to make the books brighter,
clearer, and more inspiring. The initial letters and the many fine
decorations also belong exclusively to the set, and combine to give it
esthetic value. Everything of this nature will command attention and
hold interest.
_g. Tables of Contents._ Beginning each volume is a table showing the
contents of the volume and the names of authors. It forms a means of
ready reference to the larger divisions of the work and is a handy
supplement to the index.
_h. Index._ At the end of the tenth volume is an index to the whole ten
volumes. There may be found not only each author and title in
alphabetical order, but also a complete classification of the
selections in the set. To find the history in this series, look in the
index under the title "History." When a topic has as many sub-divisions
as has "Fiction," for instance, or "Poetry," cross references are given.
_4. The Nursery Rhymes_
When a child is taught the little nursery rhymes which to us may seem to
be meaningless jingles, he is really peeping into the fields of
literature, taking the first steps in those journeys that will end in
Shakespeare, Browning and Goethe. When his infantile ear is caught by
the lively rhythm and the catchy rhymes, he is receiving his first
lessons in poetry. That the lessons are delightful now he shows by his
smiles, and in middle life he will appreciate the joy more keenly as he
teaches the same little rhymes to his own children.
Most children know the rhymes when they come to school and they will
like to read them there. A child's keenest interest is in the things he
knows. Later, perhaps in the high school or the grammar grades, he will
be interested again in learning that the rhymes are not wholly frivolous
and that there may be reasons why these rhymes should have survived for
centuries in practically unchanged forms. Some of the facts that may be
brought out at various times are the following:
I. There is a hidden significance in some of the nursery rhymes. For
instance:
_a. Daffy-Down-Dilly_ (page 47). In England one of the earliest and most
common of spring flowers is the daffodil, a bright yellow, lily-like
blossom, with long, narrow green leaves all growing from the bulb. The
American child may know them as the big double monstrosities the florist
sells in the spring, or he may have some single and prettier ones
growing in his garden. The jonquil and the various kinds of narcissus
are nearly related white or white and pink flowers. This picture on page
47 of _Journeys Through Bookland_ shows a few daffodils growing. Miss
Daffy-Down-Dilly, then, in her yellow petticoat and her green gown, is
the pretty flower; and the rhyme so understood brings a breath of spring
with it.
_b. Humpty Dumpty_ (page 55). This is really a riddle of the
old-fashioned kind. There are many of them in English folk lore. Usually
a verse was repeated and then a question asked; as, "Who was Humpty
Dumpty?" The artist has answered the question for us in the picture.
Possibly many people who learned the rhyme in childhood never thought of
Humpty as an egg.
What answer would you give to the question, Who was Taffy (page 54)? For
similar riddles, see _Nancy Netticoat_ (Vol. I, p. 72), _The Andiron_
(page 245) and _St. Ives_ (page 202).
II. Some were intended to teach certain facts. For instance:
_a._ When children were taught the alphabet as the first step to
reading, _The Apple Pie_ (page 43) gave the letters in their order,
including the obsolete "_Ampersand_."
_b._ As children grew a little older and could begin to read what they
already knew, things in which the same words were many times repeated
were helpful. Two examples are _The House that Jack Built_ (page 56)
and _There Is the Key of the Kingdom_ (page 45).
_c._ The numbers from one to twenty were taught by _One, Two_ (page 41).
_d._ The days of the week were taught by _Solomon Grundy_ (page 42),
which with its amusing provision for repetition is sure to catch the
fancy of a child and keep his thoughts on the words.
III. Some of them teach kindness to animals:
_a. Dapple Gray_ (page 22).
_b. Ladybird_ (page 12). This is sometimes known as ladybug, and the
_bug_ is the little, round, reddish beetle whose wings are black dotted.
It is a pretty, harmless beetle that gardeners like to see around their
plants. Children repeat the rhyme when they find the beetle in the house
and always release it to "fly away and save its children."
_c. Poor Robin_ (page 16).
_d._ Old Mother Hubbard's amusing adventures with her dog (page 24)
leave a very kindly feeling toward both.
IV. Some are philosophical, or inculcate moral precepts or good habits,
in a simple or amusing way.
_a. Early to Bed_ (page 34).
_b. Little Bo-Peep_ (page 9). Is it not better to let cares and worries
alone? Why cry about things that are lost?
_c. Three Little Kittens_ (page 13) suggests care for our possessions.
_d. There Was a Man_ (page 60) has the same idea that we often hear
expressed in the proverb "A hair from the same dog will cure the
wound."
_e. Rainbow in the Morning_ (page 48) has some real weather wisdom in
it.
_f. There Was a Jolly Miller_ (page 47), gives a good lesson in
contentment.
_g. A Diller, A Dollar_ (page 59).
_h. See a Pin_ (page 59) suggests in its harmless superstition a good
lesson in economy.
_i. Little Boy Blue_ (page 33) makes the lazy boy and the sluggard
unpopular.
_j. Come, Let's to Bed_ (page 34) ridicules sleepiness, slowness and
greediness.
V. Mother's loving care, at morning and evening, when dressing and
undressing the baby or when putting the little folks to bed, has
prompted several of the rhymes:
_a. This Little Pig_ (page 5) the mother repeats to the baby as she
counts his little toes.
_b. Pat-a-Cake_ (page 4) is another night or morning rhyme; and here
mother "marks it with" the initial of _her_ baby's name and puts it in
the oven for her baby and herself. Another of similar import is: _Up,
Little Baby_ (page 7).
_c. Diddle, Diddle, Dumpling_ (page 7) has kept many a little boy awake
till he was safely undressed.
_d._ What an old rhyme must _Bye, Baby Bunting_ be (page 6)! It goes
back to the days when "father went a-hunting, to get a rabbit skin to
wrap Baby Bunting in." Some one, more recently, has added the idea of
_buying_ the rabbit skin.
_e._ The simple little lyric, _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_ (page 44)
has filled many a childish soul with gentle wonder, and many a
night-robed lassie has wandered to the window and begged the little
stars to keep on lighting the weary traveler in the dark.
VI. Some of the rhymes are pure fun, and even as such are worthy of a
place in any person's memory:
_a. There Was an Old Woman_ (page 36); _Great A_ (page 14); _Jack Be
Nimble_ (page 28); _To Market, to Market_ (page 6), and _There Was a
Monkey_ (page 14); _Goosey-Goosey_ (page 21); _Hey, Diddle, Diddle_
(page 23); _There Was a Rat_ (page 14), and others, belong to this
category.
_b. Three Blind Mice_ (page 12) is an old-fashioned _Round_. Many a band
of little folks has been divided into groups and has sung the
nonsensical rhymes until every boy and girl broke down in laughter. Do
you poor modern people know how it was done? The school was divided into
a half-dozen sections. The first section began to sing and when its
members reached the end of the first line, the second section began; the
third section began when the second reached the end of the first line,
and so on till all sections were singing. When any section reached the
word "As--" they began again at the beginning. The first line was
chanted in a low, slow monotone, the others were sung as rapidly as
possible to a rattling little tune on a high pitch. Imagine the noise,
confusion and laughter. Many a dull afternoon in school has been broken
up by it, and countless children have returned to their little tasks
with new enthusiasm. The old things are not always to be scorned.
_c. Old King Cole_ (page 52) is a jolly rhyme, and the illustration is
one of the finest in the books. Everybody should study it.
VII. Two, at least, of the rhymes are of the "counting out" kind. Often
children want to determine who is to be "It" in a game of tag, who is to
be blinded in a game of hide-and-seek, or who takes the disagreeable
part in some other play. They are lined up and one begins to "count out"
by repeating a senseless jingle, touching a playmate at each word. The
one on whom the last word falls is "out," safe from the unpleasant task.
One at a time they are counted out till only the "It" remains.
_Wire, brier_ and _One-ery, Two-ery_ (page 51) are examples. The artist
has shown a group being counted out, in her very lifelike picture on
pages 50 and 51.
VIII. There are some errors in grammar in the rhymes, many words you
cannot find in a dictionary, and some of the rhymes may seem a little
coarse and vulgar; but they have lived so long in their present form
that it seems almost a pity to change them. Encourage the older children
to find the errors and to criticise and correct as much as they wish.
Probably they will not like the rhymes in their new form and correct
dress any better than we would.
IX. There is really a practical value, too, in a knowledge of the
nursery rhymes. Allusions to them are found in all literature and many a
sentence is unintelligible to him who does not recognize the nursery
rhyme alluded to. It would be safe, almost, to say that not a day passes
in which the daily papers do not contain allusions to some simple little
lines dear to our childhood. They are not to be sneered at; they are to
be loved in babyhood and childhood, understood in youth, and treasured
in middle life and old age.
_5. Discussion of Each Volume_
Our _Journeys Through Bookland_ contains a wealth of material and a host
of studies and helps. It is not an easy matter to get even the plan of
it into one's mind in a few minutes. The object of this volume is to
guide the parent, teacher or student and to show as many of the
important phases of _Journeys_ as is possible. In other chapters we take
up different methods of reading or show ways in which the books can be
used to accomplish certain definite purposes, and how to select the
material needed for any occasion. By means of cross references to the
other books this volume serves as a key to them all.
_Volume One._ The first sixty pages of this volume are given over to the
best known of the old nursery rhymes. That they are old is one of their
great merits. That all cultured people know them is proof of their value
and interest. The words are old words but the pictures are new. Every
one was drawn expressly for _Journeys_ and all show the conception of
artists who have not lost the appreciation of childhood. Little children
love the rhymes and will learn them and repeat them at sight of the
pictures long before they can read. Elsewhere in this volume are
suggestions which show how the rhymes may be used profitably.
_Journeys_ does not pretend to teach reading in the sense in which it is
understood in the kindergarten and the early primary grades. Rather it
begins to be of service as a reader only after the child has been
taught how to read for himself. Children in the third grade will read
many stories for themselves; from the fourth grade on they are nearly
all independent readers. Every teacher knows, however, that children
like to listen to stories which it would be utterly impossible for them
to read, and that later they best love to read the things which they
have heard from the lips of parent or teacher. Therefore, the literature
of the first volume forms a treasure house from which the parent may
draw many a good story to tell, and where he may find more that will be
excellent for him to read aloud. The taste for the best literature is
often formed in early childhood. So no child is too young for _Journeys_
and no child is too old. The real things we read over and over with
increasing interest as the years go on. Elsewhere in this volume are
directions for story-telling, and many especially good selections are
named. What the parent shall read aloud is best left to him to
determine; at first he will do well not to read aloud any of the
comments with which the books are fitted. If he finds that the interest
warrants it he can use the comments for himself and ask questions that
will lead to thoughtful consideration of what is being read, even by
very young children. The only thing necessary is that the reading should
be taken seriously and that the parent should be as much interested as
the youthful listener.
There are stories and poems, fairy tales and folk lore, biography in
simple anecdotes of the great favorites of children and toward the end
of the volume a few rather difficult selections for older children. In
this volume as in all of them it is hoped that parents will look over
the table of contents again and again, select the things that seem best
and suit them to the occasion. How beautiful the lullabies are for the
babies, and how much the older boys and girls will enjoy them when read
at baby's side! When the children are interested in the whimsical rhymes
of Stevenson, his biography should be read; and Eugene Field's life is
interesting when his sweet poems are lending their charm to the evening
by the fireside. Some of the fables contain deep lessons that may be
absorbed by the older children while the younger ones are interested in
the story only.
_Volume Two._ The selections in the first part of the second volume are
intentionally simpler than the last ones in the first volume. It is a
good thing for a child to handle books, to learn to find what he wants
in a book the greater part of which is too difficult for him. Oliver
Wendell Holmes thought it was an excellent thing for himself that he had
had the opportunity to "tumble around in a library" when he was a
youngster. Every student who has had the opportunity so to indulge
himself has felt the same thing. There are so many books published every
month and so much reading to be done that a discriminating sense must be
cultivated. No one can read it all or even a small part of it. Older
people will discriminate by reading what they like. Children must learn
to handle books and to find out what they are able to read. To put into
their hands all they can read of the simple things they like is not
wise. Most children read too much. Fairy stories are all right in their
way, but to give a child all the fairy tales he can read is a serious
mistake. Hundreds of pretty, inane, senseless stories in attractive
bindings with pretty, characterless illustrations tempt the children to
vitiate their taste in reading, long before they are able by themselves
to read the best literature.
Because they are valuable, there are fairy stories in _Journeys_;
because their use may be abused, there are few of them; because
something else should be read with them, they are not all in one volume
nor in one place in a volume. The same rule of classification applies to
other selections than fairy tales.
This is the volume in which the myths appear in the form of simple
tales: three from the northland, two from Greece. Each story is
attractive in itself, has some of the interest that surrounds a fairy
tale and serves as the fore-shadowing of history. That they are
something more than fairy tales is shown in the comments and elementary
explanations that accompany them.
Little poems, lullabies, pretty things that children love are dropped
into the pages here and there. Children seem to fear poetry after they
have been in school a little while, largely because they have so much
trouble in reading it aloud under the criticisms of the teacher and
because the form has made the meaning a little difficult. It is,
however, a great misfortune if a person grows up without an appreciation
of poetry when it is so simple a matter to give the young an abiding
love for it. A little help now and then, a word of appreciation, a
manifestation of pleasure when reading it and almost without effort the
child begins to read and love poetry as he does good prose.
The beginnings of nature study appear in the second volume in the form
of beautiful selections that encourage a love for birds and other
animals, and _Tom, The Water Baby_, is a delightful story, half fairy
tale, half natural history romance.
In this volume also is found _The King of the Golden River_, perhaps the
best fairy story ever written.
_Volume Three._ A glance at the table of contents in the third volume
will show the general nature of the selections. Fairy stories or tales
with a highly imaginative basis predominate. There are some that are
humorous, as for instance the selections from the writings of Lewis
Carroll, and one or two of the poems.
The long selection from _The Swiss Family Robinson_ is a good
introduction to nature literature and contains all of the book that is
worth reading by anyone. The two tales from _The Arabian Nights_ are
among the best in that collection and are perhaps the ones most
frequently referred to in general literature and in conversation. The
story of Beowulf and Grendel is a prose rendering of the oldest poem in
the English language, and valuable for that reason. While it is rather
terrifying in some of its details its unreality saves it from harmful
possibilities. Parents and teachers are inclined rather to overestimate
the unpleasant consequences of reading terrifying things when they are
of this character. Few, if any, children will read the story if it
displeases them and those who do will not retain the disagreeable
impression it makes for any great length of time.
In this volume we begin our acquaintance with the legendary heroes of
the great nations. _Frithiof_, _Siegfried_, _Robin Hood_ and _Roland_
are all in this book, to be followed by _Cid Campeador_ in Volume IV.
_Volume Four._ In this volume, with many fine poems and tales
interspersed, is found the continuation of the legendary hero stories
begun in Volume III, also as a natural sequence, a cycle of history that
begins with a story and ends in a narrative of an actual historical
occurrence. These may be found in the six selections beginning with _The
Pine-Tree Shillings_. The article on _Joan of Arc_, the story of
_Pancratius_ and the account of _Alfred the Great_, though not related
in any way, yet still serve to carry out the idea that this volume is
largely an introduction to readings in history.
_The Attack on the Castle_ is a stirring account of a mediæval battle.
It prepares the way to the mediæval spirit made more prominent in the
next volume. In _The Arickara Indians_ the boys will begin to find the
interest that the aborigines always have for our youth.
_Volume Five._ The legendary great, the half-historical personages that
have been for so many centuries the inspiration of youths of many lands
are found again in this volume in the person of the Greek heroes and, at
much greater length, in England's famous King Arthur. The story of his
Round Table and its knights is told in an extremely interesting way. The
spirit of Sir Thomas Malory is retained in his quaint accounts and
Tennyson's noble poems show how great a factor the legends of Arthur
have been in literature. Besides the articles that are instructive there
are a few that are highly entertaining or merely humorous, for every
child has a right to read sometimes for amusement only. It will be seen
that some classes of literature have ceased to appear and that others
are coming into view. The "spiral arrangement" is nicely illustrated in
the reappearance of history and the legendary heroes and in the
disappearance of myths and fairy tales, for which there is, however,
some compensation in the highly imaginative _Gulliver's Travels_, an
extract from Dean Swift.
In this volume are also included a little cycle on one of the great
heroes of the Scotch, Robert Bruce. These carry on the series of
selections on legendary heroes, begun in Volume Three. These are
followed by stories of adventure, of frontier life in the Central West,
tales from the early history of our country. _Reminiscences of a
Pioneer_, _The Buccaneers_, _Captain Morgan at Maracaibo_, and
_Braddock's Defeat_ are examples of this kind of literature. These
selections are authentic accounts from original sources and are among
those things which boys really like, but which have not heretofore been
accessible to them. Patriotic Poems, somewhat in the same vein, are
given where they will be noticed and read.
_Volume Six._ In this volume the series of legendary and semi-historical
selections is completed. It includes the best of the legends concerning
the national hero of Persia, also the story of _The Tournament_ from
_Ivanhoe_, inserted here as a fitting introduction to Scott's novels.
There are several examples of nature studies in literature and several
fine stories that have their place in the education of everyone. The
best of these stories and one of the finest ever written is _Rab and His
Friend_. A cycle of a religious nature is found in those selections
which are named _The Imitation of Christ_, _The Destruction of
Sennacherib, Ruth_, and _The Vision of Belshazzar_.
The longest and best story in this book is _A Christmas Carol_ by
Charles Dickens. This is a model in construction and furnishes the basis
for all the studies that would naturally accompany the most elaborate
piece of fiction.
The sixth volume is one of interest and one that will give plenty of
opportunity for study to those who have the inclination to follow out
the suggestions that accompany the selections. Close study should be
upon those things which are already somewhat familiar. The high school
student will find his time more profitably spent in working on the
things in this volume than in poring over the more difficult
masterpieces that are sometimes prescribed in courses of study. What we
desire is power to read, understand and appreciate, and that is obtained
by study upon those things that interest us and about which we know
enough to enable us to use our minds to best advantage.
_Volume Seven._ On the whole, this is a more mature volume than any that
has preceded it and yet there are some selections of a simple character
inserted for the purpose of interesting those who cannot yet read very
heavy literature. From this point on, however, there is little
difference in the grade of the volumes. The way in which the literature
is studied marks the difference in rank. In fact, when a person can read
intelligently and with appreciation such selections as appear in this
volume he can read anything that is set before him. There may be some
things that will require effort and perhaps explanation, but it is
merely a question of vocabulary and parallel information. Besides the
stories, there are selections in every department of literature except
those that have been passed in the progress of the plan of grading. The
legendary heroes, the myths and the stories of classic literature are no
longer to be found. In their place are more selections on nature, more
of biography and history and the real literature of inspiration. Some of
the last group appear in the form of fine lyrics which everyone loves
but which are made more attractive and inspiring by proper setting and
helpful interpretations.
In this volume biography, which has had its share of attention in every
volume, becomes a strong feature, especially in the fine sketches that
are given of famous writers. It is a fact that most writers have lived
so quietly and in such comparative seclusion that their lives are devoid
of the exciting events that make the liveliest appeal to young people,
yet every one has done so much for the world and in such varied ways
that there are things in their lives that interest and enthrall the mind
if only they are properly presented. Our great American writers have
been noble men and women and their lives are models worthy of imitation.
That is the thing for us to glory in and for our young people to know,
for it is not by any means a universal fact that people who wrote
inspiring literature have lived inspiring lives. The literature of
nature is probably stronger in this volume than in any other and the
selections are of the most absorbing kind. It is not expected to give a
vast amount of information but to create a love for reading about the
great facts in nature and an appreciation of the beauties in the
writings of those who love it. This is the last volume in which there is
much fiction and it marks the beginnings of the really fine essays which
form a large part of the succeeding volume. The history is of a higher
type and includes excerpts from the writings of some of our greatest
historians.
_Volume Eight._ The notable feature of the eighth volume is the
selection from the plays of Shakespeare. Nothing is more important in
the literary education of a child than his proper introduction to the
greatest of our great writers, and this has been accomplished in the
following manner. _The Tempest_ was selected as the play, because it is
simple and lively in its style, appeals to young people and has in it
just enough of the marvelous, the beautiful and the terrible to make a
decided impression on one who reads it for the first time. There are
other plays that are greater but none that may be taught so easily to
juvenile readers. In this volume there is a brief article on the reading
of Shakespeare; this is followed by the inimitable tale of _The Tempest_
by Charles and Mary Lamb; this by the play, _The Tempest_, practically
as it was written; and this, in turn, by a long series of interesting
studies on the drama. The whole is attractive from start to finish and
the studies are certain to lead the reader to think.
The drama, then, is the new feature of the ninth volume, but this is
also the volume of fine essays, the highest type of prose. The essays
are best represented by the following titles, all of which may be found
in the table of contents of the eighth volume: _The Alhambra_ by Irving,
_A Bed of Nettles_ by Allen, _Dream Children_, by Charles Lamb. These
titles, too, show how broad is the field covered by the essay and how
delightful a variety there may be in the one style of composition. The
departments of Travel and Adventure, Patriotism and History have not
been neglected. On the whole it is a serious volume, one which will give
the high school student and the older members of the family a plentiful
supply of good reading material and a suggestion of study for the
evenings of many a winter day.
_Volume Nine._ Most of the selections in this volume are rather
difficult reading for young people but there are helps enough to make
the task a pleasant one. The series of essays, begun in Volume Eight is
here continued, with _The Ascent of the Jungfrau_ by Tyndall, _A
Dissertation upon Roast Pig_ and _The Praise of Chimney Sweepers_ by
Charles Lamb, and two representative essays by Sir Francis Bacon. The
studies are of an advanced nature and if carried out as intended will be
of decided service to high school students. In a few cases the
selections are simple, like _Robert of Lincoln_, for instance, but the
studies that accompany it are the more complete. It is hoped by such an
arrangement to show how inexhaustible a field for study literature
offers and how many things there are to be known about the least of our
fine lyrics. _The Ode on a Grecian Urn_ is of a different type. This
poem makes no direct appeal to sentiment or to the knowledge of the
average young person, yet by study it is seen to be a lyric of
exquisite beauty. This volume introduces the writings of several authors
who have not before appeared because of their slight appeal to young
people. Among them may be mentioned particularly Addison, Boswell, and
Bacon. The volume contains also orations that should be studied as
models, viz: _The Gettysburg Address_, _The Fate of the Indians_ and
_The Call to Arms_. Each has a series of studies following it. As a
relief from the serious work of the volume there are included an extract
from _Pickwick Papers_; that fascinating story, _The Gold-Bug_; and the
delightful essay, _Modestine_, an extract from _Travels with a Donkey_,
by Stevenson.
_Volume Ten._ At the end of this volume are given two tables; the first
arranges the leading English writers chronologically, and the second
follows a similar plan with the American authors. The index with which
the book closes is for the entire series and enables the reader to find
the selections readily, if he knows either the title or the name of the
author; to find all the selections on any given topic; and to find the
studies quickly if they are wanted. The index should prove as useful as
any of the devices with which the books are filled.
CHAPTER III
PICTURES AND THEIR USE
_I. What Should We Notice in a Picture?_
In his excellent little book, _How to Judge of a Picture_, Van Dyke
speaks of the things that constitute a good painting as follows: "First,
it is good in tone, or possess a uniformity of tone that is refreshing
to the eye; second, it is good in atmosphere--something you doubtless
never thought could be expressed with a paint-brush; third, it is well
composed, and a landscape requires composition as well as a figure
piece; fourth, 'values' are well maintained, its qualities good, its
poetic feeling excellent." A second writer has said that beauty is
manifested in four ways: by line, by light and shade, by color and by
composition. We will consider these characteristics in order.
_a. Line._ We define the boundaries of objects and limit space by means
of lines, and the use of lines constitutes drawing in pictures. These
lines so used may be narrow or broad, straight or curved, perfect or
broken, and definite or vague and undetermined. Upon their proper use,
however, depends the beauty of proportion, the strength of personality
and the impressions of truthfulness and reality. There are few rigid
lines in nature. What we see is an impression of line, not sharp lines.
If you look at a book you may see the sharp lines that bound its edges
but if you move it away a little or put it in shadow its boundaries are
a little hazy and gradually you lose the impression of the lines that
bound it and see only a book. A tree has no sharp outline except when it
stands on a horizon and looks like a silhouette against the light.
Ordinarily it is a mass of moving light and shade, of color. The leaves
are not separately limited by lines and yet we know that leaves are
there. If the artist drew each leaf separately and accurately the
general effect would be extremely unnatural and instead of a tree we
should see only the minute carefulness of a painter who had failed.
Perfect lines, then, are rare in good pictures. The artist does not
intend to make exact representations of reality but to convey the
_appearance_ of reality, and just in so far as he succeeds in conveying
that appearance of reality is he successful. This does not mean that
good drawing is not necessary in a picture; it merely tells you what
constitutes good drawing. If the lines of the human figure are perfect
it is almost certain that the figure will be strained, unnatural and
without the appearance of life or motion. In a good picture the lines of
good drawing are present but they are broken, subdued and lead into one
another as do the lines we see in nature.
_b. Light and Shade._ It is the distribution of light and shadows in a
picture that gives it the appearance of reality. A mere outline drawing
is flat and has no semblance of life. The paintings of the ancient
Egyptians are good examples of pictures that have no light and shade,
and we all know how flat, stiff and unreal they appear. In pen and ink,
and charcoal drawings, light is indicated by white and shadow by black,
but between the two extremes are introduced various shades and tints of
gray that make the variety of tone in shadows. This varying of the
strength of shadows is everywhere in nature, though most of us are blind
to it. In looking at any object for the purpose of distinguishing the
lights and shades upon it we should half close our eyes and look
intently at all parts of it. Under an inspection of this sort the
building which we thought to be all of even light is seen to be dotted
with patches of shadow of different intensity, showing that there are
projections where the light from the sun strikes clearly or depressions
into which it cannot enter so freely. A picture should give the same
effect, and it is this effect, which includes also the distance from the
eye as well as the shades from the light source, that we call "values."
If we look at a tree in the way described we see that it is covered with
patches of green in light or dark tints and that these color values are
the lights and shades of which we are speaking. There will be one point
of highest light and an opposing point of deepest shadow, and upon the
proper arrangement of these as well as upon the patches of minor
importance depends the lifelike appearance of the objects in the
picture. Van Dyke says there are three things concerning light and shade
that should be looked for in every picture, viz.: that everything, no
matter how small it be, has its due proportion of light and shade; that
there be one point of compass from which the light comes; that there be
a center of light in the picture itself, from which all other lights
radiate and decrease until they are lost in the color or shadow.
_c. Tone and Color._ The first thing that seizes the eye in a painting
is color, and the brightest, gayest colors are the ones that are most
likely to attract. In fact they are the only colors that the
inexperienced may see, for many a person is blind to the subdued tints
and shades that are really the most attractive to the trained eye. Good
coloring, then, does not mean brightness alone. It is the relationship,
the qualities and the suitableness of colors one to another, whether
they be in shadow, half-tint or light, that constitute good coloring.
Brilliant dresses and inharmonious ornaments strike the refined eye with
displeasure, the wearer is "loud" in her dress. Subdued colors relieved
here and there with a harmonious dash of brightness show correct taste.
So in pictures those that have the low or deep tones, that are rich and
harmonious, are the ones that are most appreciated by the experts, and
are the ones usually found to have been painted by the masters.
Nevertheless if high color combines richness and harmony it shows a fine
skill. Tone has to do with the quantity of color used in the painting,
and harmony with the qualities of colors. Tone and harmony must combine
to make perfect coloring.
_d. Composition._ If we study any great poem, drama or novel, one that
is constructed with a due regard for unity, we find there is one central
character or idea and that all other persons, all incidents, scenes and
all the little devices that go to give reality to the conception are
subordinated to the central person or idea. Unless this is done the
creation lacks unity and therefore lacks force, beauty and coherence.
The same facts hold true of a picture. Every good picture is so
arranged and drawn that the important idea is centralized and the parts
are unified and harmonized until the whole is single in its effect. This
is accomplished by what is called in the language of the painter,
"composition." Important things are recognized and lesser things
subordinated to give beauty, clearness and brilliancy to the central
idea. While these facts are most obvious in pictures that contain
figures, it is no less true in landscapes or other pictures which
contain no figures. For instance, a moonlight scene on the Hudson would
have as its central idea the beauty of the light on the water and the
mountains. To secure this the artist would keep down the lines of the
mountains, subordinate the details in the foreground and place as the
central idea in the picture the pale shimmering light from the moon
whether that body be itself visible or not. Oftentimes in looking at a
picture it is difficult to tell wherein its excellent composition lies,
but the absence of strength and unity is unerringly felt.
_e. Atmosphere and Perspective._ We are all familiar with the diminished
size of objects seen at a distance and realize that the apparent coming
together of two parallel lines, as those of a railway track, is owing to
the same cause. We know, too, that this diminishing must be shown in a
picture or there is no sense of distance for the spectator. What is not
so clear to us usually, is that there is as great a difference in color
and the appearance of objects. The diminution of size is linear
perspective and the change of color due to distance and atmospheric
conditions is commonly called aerial perspective. The tendency among
amateurs is to paint a tree green no matter how far away from the
spectator it is, while a little observation and study would show the
veriest tyro that the green of a distant tree has faded till to the eye
it looks a bluish gray. Moreover, outlines have faded and seem to flow
into those of other objects, and all combine to give to the picture the
true appearance of distance, which is what the artist seeks and the one
who looks at the picture has a right to expect.
_f. An Application of the Foregoing Principles._ What has been said on
this subject of judging a picture may be made clearer by an application
to one of the pictures in _Journeys_. Let us take, for instance, the
color plate facing page 304, in Volume VI. It is a reproduction in color
of the painting in water colors, _Bob and Tiny Tim_, and will show what
is meant by the comments above almost as well as the original painting
would have done.
1. Tone and color. Are the colors in the picture bright and gay or are
they subdued? What are the brightest colors? Are the colors harmonious
or do they "quarrel" as they come to the eye?
Are the shades of blue and purple and lighter colors in the clothing of
the various persons glaring or subdued? Do you observe any inharmony
which offends the eye, or are you pleased with contrasting colors and
tones? The harmony in color is due to the choice of colors that do not
contrast too strongly. The artist knew which were complementary colors;
that is, which, united, form white. Which colors in the picture do you
think show warmth, and which show cold, as suitable to out-of-door
scenes? What effect on the rest of the picture does the olive green of
the interior of the room have? What effect does the gray green of the
open door have?
2. Light and Shade. Is the picture flat and without appearance of life,
or do the persons and objects stand out in a life-like manner? Are parts
of the picture in shade, so that outlines are lost? The artist has shown
the left of the building in the foreground as in shadow; how is this
effect produced? Do you observe gradations of tone in the shawl on Tiny
Tim, which indicate relative light and shadow? Where is the highest
light in the picture, and where the darkest shadow? Are the lights
strong as if the sun were shining, or soft and diffused, as is
noticeable on a snowy winter's day?
3. Line. Although you cannot see Bob's feet in the picture, do you feel
that his body is well supported? Is his position natural, as of one
carrying a burden on one shoulder? Are the lines of the figures in the
foreground clear and distinct? How do they compare with the lines of the
figures and building across the street? In both cases the artist gives
us all that is necessary to convey the impression of reality. In the use
of oils and water colors, sharp lines are avoided. Colors are used so
that different surfaces and effects flow into one another; the lines are
concealed and we have the very counterfeit of reality. This constitutes
good drawing.
4. Composition. What is the central idea of the picture? The artist has
brought the principal figures into the immediate foreground; do the
arrangement of color, contrasts of tone values, and the smaller figures
in the background give life and significance to the figures of Bob and
Tiny Tim? Would the effectiveness of the picture be greater or less if
the artist had failed to show the snowy outdoor scene, with its holiday
spirit? Do you recall the incident in the story portrayed by the
picture? Are the characteristics of Bob and Tiny Tim, as described by
Dickens, faithfully followed by the artist? Do their faces show the
spirit of Christmas? If you had not read the story, would you not feel a
glow of sympathy for the little boy, and a wish that you could join in
making a happy holiday for him? Has not the artist succeeded in bringing
the scene described by the author more vividly and beautifully to us?
5. Atmosphere and Perspective. How far from the figures of Bob and the
little boy are the people on the sidewalk? How does the artist express
the idea of relative distance? Are there any lines in the picture which
help us to determine distance? If the eye follows the lines of the cross
pieces on the door, will they not come together if extended far enough
to the left? Of course the buildings across the street are not very far
away, but their outlines are a little hazy. Does this haziness help to
give the effect of distance? Do you think the door was really a
gray-green? Has the artist used this tone to show the effect of the
outdoor light on a gray, or possibly a white door? The building across
the street, at the left, has yellow and red and purple tones; do you
think these were the actual colors? If not, why has the artist selected
these particular shades? Do parts of buildings or other objects in
shadow take on different shades from parts in bright lights? What
colors appear most frequently in the picture? Has the artist succeeded
in giving the picture the atmosphere of Dickens's story?
_II. Pictures and Their Value in Literature_
Pictures are in themselves a language--the oldest as well as the most
universal tongue of the world. The primitive man of all races resorted
to a picture-writing in his first efforts to transcribe his thoughts and
emotions into a more lasting form than the oral expression. Our earliest
authentic history of the customs, beliefs and life of the ancient
Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Chinese and even our own American
Indians comes to us from the pictured records they left on stone, wood
or clay.
In the present age, what child does not yield to the magic rhythm and
the compelling lilt of the old nursery rhymes! With what added joy does
he discover that there are pictures for these treasured jingles! And
long before the printed words can be recognized he enters the alluring
world of books by "reading" the illustrations. With glowing eyes on the
picture he repeats the rhyme he had learned from its many demanded
repetitions.
By giving him simple, clear, realistic conceptions through pictures, we
influence the child to read eagerly the text, to discover the whole
story, of which such a fascinating hint is given in the portion
illustrated. These first pictures must satisfy the child's love of
action and movement, and portray only the most dramatic scenes, the big
important facts with all superfluous happenings omitted.
In fables, where the primary purpose is to convey an abstract truth, a
something bigger and broader than the mere interesting events described,
the illustrations add much to the meaning and purpose of the text. Here
the artist shows not only the physical attributes of the real animal,
but in a subtle way goes a step further and through the features or the
attitude suggests the characteristics attributed in the fable. Thus
unconsciously the little reader gets from the picture an increased
conception of the sly, clever, crafty ways of the fox or the slow,
plodding, steadfast patience of the tortoise.
As literature develops from the simple nursery rhyme and the brief,
abrupt fable to the fairy tale with its illusive beauty, so the pictures
should advance in a parallel and a closely related manner. The
illustrations now take on a mysterious, unreal, esthetic quality, in
harmony with the world of fairy lore, and train the imagination as much
as the direct words of the author. The child realizes that the forest
scenes which furnish the background for so many of his favorite fairy
tales have a subtle beauty which has never been seen by him. Gradually
through such pictures he is led to seek an ideal beauty in the real
world. He also becomes able not only to appreciate the poetic rendering
of this expression of the ideal but is capable of forming more varied
mental images of things about which he reads; to put more of his own
individuality, his own conceptions, into his mental picture.
The passing ages have so completely revolutionized the customs and ways
of life that the child of today finds comparatively little in his
familiar surroundings which he can link with the world of history and
legend. Literature should be supplemented by pictures to bridge this
chasm and to bring legendary and historical heroes into the child's own
world and enable him to follow their thoughts, interpret their emotions
and appreciate their actions.
The child who sees a picture of court life where the cavalier is attired
in richly colored velvet, silk, lace, and jewels, and surrounded by the
luxuries of the court, and compares it with another of the same period
which portrays a Puritan in his somber-hued, severe suit, stiff linen
collar and cuffs, broad-brimmed, plain hat and not a single jewel or
ornament used for mere decorative or esthetic value, realizes the vast
difference in the types and character of the two men. He is furnished
with an appropriate mental atmosphere in which to follow their history
and in which to comprehend the inevitable clash that came between the
Cavaliers and the Roundheads. He will then eagerly and sympathetically
follow the Pilgrims in their lonely stay in Holland and in their brave
struggle in the new country. Here, again, the various pictures portray a
land and climate as vigorous, uncompromising and stern as the characters
of the Pilgrims themselves. Then the great forests, the felling of the
trees, the erection of the log houses and forts, the meeting of Puritans
with the neighboring Indians, with their curious costumes, homes,
customs and occupations, introduce other phases of life that put the
child in a receptive mood for the reading of colonial history, Indian
legends and stories of pioneer life.
Familiarity with the author's portrait, with pictures of his home or his
favorite scenes, brings a something of the writer's personality to the
child. He feels the story is told _more directly to him_. A sympathetic
bond is established that leads him to a more intimate and a more
intelligent acquaintance with the author's emotions, thoughts, style and
purposes as expressed in his works. He reads Thoreau's _Journal_, and
notes uncomprehendingly, the potent sway of nature over the heart and
life of the man. It requires the keen vision and the genius of the
artist to give him a realization of the mesmeric influence nature
frequently exerts.
If this author's portrait is the work of a great artist it will perform
a double service. For example, the reproduction of the _Aesop_ of
Velasquez not only gives the child an idea of the appearance of that
creator of the wonderful fables, but it also introduces the great
Spanish artist who has depicted marvelous interpretations of life on
canvas and has so wonderfully influenced the style and method of the
work of many of the artists who succeeded him.
The world of literature is filled with poems and stories which emphasize
abstract truths, teach needed lessons or give universal principles of
beauty. Many of these have been the subject and the inspiration of
pictures. And, in the re-telling of the poem or story with brush or pen,
the artists have added a something of their own individuality and
character which serves not only to emphasize and perpetuate themselves
through their pictured translation of these noble thoughts, but also
makes the principles inculcated by the author become a part of the
child's moral creed.
All have long realized the value of pictures in connection with stories
involving scientific knowledge, but the co-operation of the artist with
the author in presenting literature to children is of equal importance.
The picture arrests the interest of the child and wins his love for
books long before he can read; it arouses his desire to master the
meaning of the printed forms, that he may discover the story for
himself; it gives him facts regarding unfamiliar things without which
knowledge the printed symbol means little; it leads him to the discovery
of unseen beauties in his environment; it develops his imagination; it
arouses his creative faculties; it aids him to grasp the deepest,
highest meaning of the world's literature; it opens up the undreamed
beauties of the vast world of art; it interprets abstract thoughts until
they become a part of his character, and CHARACTER is the true end of
all READING and of all EDUCATION.
_III. On the Use of the Pictures in "Journeys"_
Children love pictures, and they love to make them. We of riper years
are inclined to forget how very strong was our pictorial instinct when
we were young. A little girl may make on a sheet of paper a few
irregular lines not very well connected, wholly meaningless to us, and
see in them very plainly every lineament of her favorite doll. She sees
no lines, no paper, only her own precious doll. A little later she will
draw pictures to illustrate a story, and while we may see nothing in her
work, she sees enough to make the story more real, and is in this way
preparing herself to read more intelligently and with greater
appreciation as she grows older. We should not laugh at these crude
drawings, nor try to make them better. They express her ideas in her
way, and that is enough. On the other hand, we should encourage her to
try other pictures for other stories till she learns herself to distrust
her drawings, or finds a way to express herself so that others may
understand what she thinks and feels.
Pictures mean something, always. In the first place they show to him who
can read them what some one else has thought and felt. If they are meant
to illustrate something in literature, they may fail because the artist
has not caught the spirit of what he is trying to depict, or because he
lacks in execution. On our side, they may fail because we cannot
interpret his work, either from lack of understanding or from the
dullness of our sensibilities. Again, we may object to the artist's
interpretation of the literature, and his pictures may merely excite our
opposition. Usually, however, we see through the artist's eyes from a
new point of view, so that, even if we do not altogether approve what we
see, we are led to question and find for ourselves something new,
pleasing and helpful.
Children are harsh critics, not only of pictures but of literature
itself, and the critical spirit is a good one to cultivate, if it is not
allowed to fall into captious fault-finding. On the whole, however, it
is far better to point out the good things in a picture than to call
attention to poor execution or poor conception. Leave criticism
generally to those infrequent cases in which the artist has actually
blundered because he has not read the selection closely or accurately,
or has been careless in the things he ought to know. For instance, it
would be absurd to show King Arthur in a modern dress suit, or to put
fire-arms in the hands of the Indians who met Columbus for the first
time. But such faults occur infrequently. Usually the pictures are
careful studies, and give many a hint on costuming, manners and customs,
as well as on the proper surroundings of the characters.
Some selections are so universal in their nature, so freely applicable
to all times and places, that the artist may be allowed to delineate any
people, anywhere, at any time. Nursery rhymes, so often alluded to, lend
themselves to an endless variety of imaginary people and places. The old
woman might be living still in her shoe and whipping her children
soundly, in a twentieth-century wrapper, or clothed in skins she might
send them supperless to bed in pre-historic ages. Whether Jack and Jill
wore wooden shoes or patent-leather pumps we shall never really know;
perhaps their little feet were encased in moccasins, or they may have
been bare and ornamented with rings: what we do know is that Jack broke
his crown and Jill came tumbling after.
So we will give the artists all the latitude they wish, as long as they
keep the facts straight, and we will try to help the children to see
what the artist saw, and so get clearer visions for themselves.
The pictures in these books are from many artists, all of whom have
given an interpretation of the selection they were working upon, and
have given it in such a way as to be helpful and inspiring to their
youthful readers. Every time the artists have tried to get a child's
view of things and to draw so that a child will like their work. Their
enthusiasm has been boundless, and their execution remarkably good. Some
of their pictures are gay, some are grave, a few sad; some are highly
imaginative and others very realistic. Not a few are wonderfully
beautiful. Among so many designs, so many kinds, everyone will find
something to admire.
Among the many, let us take a few for a brief study to show that they
may be used with children to make literature clear, to give interest and
keener appreciation.
The very first picture in Volume One (sub-title, _Nursery Rhymes_, page
1) is frankly intended as an introduction to the rhymes which follow,
and is also a good illustration of many of the principles stated in this
chapter.
The little boy is fond of his playthings and especially of his toy cat,
but you see he is giving his chief thought just now to the rhymes and
jingles which his mother is repeating, while the baby is absorbed and
happy in looking at the pictures. Do you see the sewing-basket with the
knitting which the mother has laid aside while she devotes an hour to
play? Do the other books on the table suggest that she sets a value on
good reading as an important element in the training of children even as
young as these in the picture? The idea is carried out further in the
decorations of the draperies around the window. You see there in simple
outline characters which appear in fuller detail with the rhymes which
follow in this volume. The color tones are subdued and restful, not loud
and glaring, but they are so happily blended, or contrasted, that both
persons and objects are clear and distinct. It tells without words the
story of happy childhood.
_Jack and the Beanstalk_ (Volume One, page 159) is a picture which will
repay study. A child's imagination reaches out more or less vaguely,
though often to his satisfaction, for a visualization of the
exaggerations of nature which appear in almost all fables and fairy
tales. Our artist has given this subject a realistic touch, which makes
Jack's adventure seem almost possible.
Does the beanstalk look natural? Does it look like the beanstalk which
grows in your garden? Are the bean pods like those you have seen? Is the
color natural? Does the stalk look strong enough to bear Jack's weight?
How high up do you think he must go to reach the giant's home? How is
the impression of height given? Do you see the landscape stretching away
in the distance? Do the fields and the stream look far away? Do you
think Jack became frightened or dizzy as he went on--up and up? Doesn't
the picture help you to understand his courage and determination to
carry out his purpose?
[Illustration: ALFRED TENNYSON
ROBERT BROWNING
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
SIR WALTER SCOTT
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
GEOFFREY CHAUCER
JOSEPH ADDISON]
_Nurse helps me when I embark_ (Volume One page 127) is a fine picture
for study. Ask questions like the following: What toys do you see in the
picture? Do boys like toys which suggest adventure? Do you think he
likes his small boat? Why? Did it suggest to his mind that he would call
his bed a boat, and sail away in it to dreamland? Is he saying his
prayer? Will the small candle give light enough? Why does it smoke? What
kind of a bed is it? What is the canopy over the bed made of?
Interesting questions may be asked about the poem: What is a prudent
sailor? What do prudent sailors have to take on board? What is a pier?
What is the pier beside which the boy finds his vessel fast?
On page 262 of Volume One is printed _Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_, Eugene
Field's musical lyric for little ones. The attractive picture may be
looked at before the poem is read. Questions help the children more than
explanations and comments, particularly where they are logically asked.
The natural order is to ask about the prominent things first, and then
about minor details, thus: How many children are there? Where are they?
What does their boat look like? What is the child nearest the toe of the
shoes doing? Where are the other two standing? What have they in their
hands? What are they doing with the net? Are they catching any fish?
Where is the moon? What can you see in the moon? Is the face laughing?
Now let us read the poem, and when we have done so, let us see what
lines in particular the artist was thinking about. Who are the three
children? "Wynken, Blynken, and Nod." What did they do? "Sailed off in a
wooden shoe ... into a sea of dew." What did the moon say? "'Where are
you going and what do you wish?'" What did the children answer? "'We
have come to fish for the herring fish.'" What kind of nets have they?
"Nets of silver and gold." What did the old moon do? "The old moon
laughed and sang a song." What were the herring fish? "The herring fish
were the little stars." How long did they fish? "All night long their
nets they threw." Where did they throw their nets? "To the stars in the
twinkling foam." * * * * Were there really three little children? No.
How many were there? Only one. Who, then, were Wynken and Blynken? The
little child's eyes. And who was Nod? His head. What was the wooden shoe
that sailed the skies? Only a trundle-bed. What then was all this story
about fishing from a wooden shoe for herring fish with nets of silver
and gold? Only a wee one's dream. How can you see the "wonderful sights
that be"? By shutting our eyes while mother sings. Don't you suppose the
artist shut her eyes when she thought of the picture, and perhaps
dreamed of the time when she lay in her little bed and her mother sang
of the wonderful sights that be? Wasn't that just why she made such a
beautiful picture, and thought even of putting wings to the shoe, so it
could sail through the sky? After such a talk as that with a little
child, do you not think, dear parent, that he would come nearer to you,
and while you read the poem softly and smoothly to him he would learn to
like its music, and through its refining influence learn to love you a
little better? When he has grown to manhood, do you not think there will
come times when his heart will be touched, when he will long for the
loving arms around him and the sweet mother voice to sing once more of
the wonderful sights that be? There are holier things to be done for
children than to feed and clothe them.
In Volume Two, on page 121 may be found the picture _Shuffle-Shoon and
Amber Locks_. How many persons are shown in the picture? How is the old
man dressed? In what is he sitting? How is the boy dressed? Where is he
sitting? Can you sit comfortably that way? What does he hold in his left
hand? What is the little boy doing? How many blocks are there in his
building? How many blocks are on the floor? What is the old man placing
on top of the blocks? What is on the wall back of the chair? Of what is
the curtain made? Which is Shuffle-Shoon? Why is he called
Shuffle-Shoon? Why is the boy called Amber-Locks? What is the color of
amber? Do you think the old man has a kind face? How old do you suppose
he is? How old is Amber-Locks? Do you like his face?
From Volume Two, page 264, _Tom and The Dragon Fly_: What is the first
thing you notice when you look at this picture? What is the second
thing? Where is Tom standing? Where is the dragon-fly? How many wings
has it? How many legs can you see on the dragon-fly? Does Tom's hair
look as though he had just come from the water? What is he looking at?
Does he seem to be afraid, or happy? Can you tell where the surface of
the water is? Is any part of Tom in the water? Can you see sky or clouds
in the picture? Does any land show?
From Volume Two, page 69, _The Swallow and the Stork Came_: After a
picture has been examined, as has been explained, it is sometimes a good
thing to study the way in which the artist has produced his effects. The
effects in this picture are remarkably fine and Mr. Rudeen has
accomplished his purposes very skilfully. What effect is given by the
mass of white in the center of the picture? Does it help to give
emphasis to the principal figures? Does the artist use his colors in
proper tones and shadings? Does he succeed in making the birds seem
really to fly? Do you see the face in the fir tree? How are the eyes
indicated? Are the lines and patches that make the face any different
from those that indicate other leaves on the tree? Why then does it look
like a face? Does the face have an expression of surprise? If the
branches and leaves on the left side of the tree were curved downward
instead of upward, would the expression be changed? Is there any
indication of feathers on the swallows? How are feathers indicated on
the stork? The artist drew the original of this picture with pen and
black ink. The engraver made one plate for this drawing in black, then
another plate for those portions of the picture which have any shade or
tone of orange, and still another for the blue tones. The green is
produced by printing from the orange and the blue inks over the same
surface. Facing page 82, Volume Two is the portrait of Hans Christian
Andersen. This was taken from a photograph, and under a microscope it
can be seen that the ink is put on in fine dots. The border was drawn
with pen and ink. The original photograph of Andersen was photographed
through a screen and reduced to the size you see it. The pictures in the
book are printed from the metal plates which put the ink on the paper in
little dots. These prints are called _halftones_: the pen and ink
drawings in the texts are called _zinc etchings_. The original of the
colored frontispiece of the same volume was a water-color painting by
Mr. Henderson. This was reduced in size by photography and four plates
were made, one showing all the black, and another all the red, a third
all the blue and a fourth all the yellow in the original. Then the paper
was run through the press four times, each time with the color of ink
for which each plate was etched. By printing one color over another this
way, the different shades were made. No better way is known for
reproducing colored pictures. The border was drawn with pen and ink. The
title page was drawn with pen and ink and a zinc etching made by
photographic process, from which an electrotype plate was made. The end
sheets are decorated by a zinc etching reduced from a large drawing made
by Mr. Mitchell. The title and ornaments on the back of the books are
made from strong brass dies that were engraved from drawings made by
special artists. Gold leaf is laid over the section to be lettered and
the dies are pressed upon it with such force as to fasten the gold upon
the cover. Then the parts of the gold leaf that have not been pressed
into the cover are brushed away and the design is perfect.
To learn what a picture really contains, to appreciate its purpose and
merit, we should study it systematically. The following topics suggest
themselves:
1. The general view.
2. The details.
3. The center of interest.
4. The purpose.
5. The artists' conception and its appropriateness.
6. Elements of beauty.
As in other cases, the best way to explain a method is to apply it.
Accordingly, let us study by this method the picture _Down Tumbled
Wheelbarrow_, on page 46 of Volume One.
1. _The general view._ Here is a picture of a man wheeling his wife
through a London street, and the breaking down of his wheelbarrow.
2. _The details._ The man, and his wife sitting in the wheelbarrow; the
cobbled street, the sidewalk, the houses on one side of the street, the
arch-way with the house above it, and the street showing through the
arch-way; the man in the distance. A shop in the middle ground, with
fruit and vegetables displayed outside the window. The man with the
wheelbarrow is dressed in the fashion of the past, with tall hat, blue
cut-a-way long-tailed coat, black breeches and blue stockings, white
vest and white gloves. His neckerchief and shoes are orange color. His
wife is also fashionably gowned. Her bonnet has blue and orange
feathers, she has an embroidered shawl of orange color, with a blue
overdress and a gray skirt; her blue parasol is in the air, dropped in
the shock of the breaking of the wheelbarrow. Her arms are extended in
effort to save herself. The wheel is bent under the barrow.
3. _The center of interest._ The center of interest of most pictures is
found near the center of the picture. It is plainly so in this picture;
the man with the wheelbarrow, and his bride engage our attention, while
secondarily we note the rough cobbled pavement and the narrow street.
4. _The purpose._ The artist's intention is to show the dramatic moment
when the wheelbarrow broke, and the bride got the fall.
5. _The artist's conception and its appropriateness._ In choosing the
line "Down Tumbled Wheelbarrow," the artist selected the moment which
was the climax of the adventure, and in so doing he shows the shock of
surprise and alarm in the attitude and expression of both bride and
groom as contrasted with their very fine holiday costumes, which show
how much care they had given to their preparation for their wedding
journey. The artist has not overlooked the opportunity to show us a
typical London street of the olden time, narrow and paved with cobble
stones. The arch-way gives us the assurance that the street was very
narrow, so that the wheelbarrow had to go over the rough cobbles. The
conception seems appropriate and true to the story in the simple rhyme.
6. _Elements of beauty._ There are two main elements in this picture,
which contribute to the pleasure it gives us, aside from the story it
tells. In the composition of the picture, the artist has placed the main
figures in the foreground and drawn them in full detail. Note the
contrast of the masses of black with the open spaces of white and light
shadings. The walls of the houses are indicated by few lines which are
sufficient but which do not draw the eye from the center. The rough
street is skillfully indicated by a few deftly drawn round cobbles,
leaving the larger white space to give air and light to the central
figures. The treatment of color is the second element of beauty to be
noticed. Not all the picture is colored; in this class of illustration,
the white spaces have the effect of giving background to the colors, and
bringing out their best values.
Another profitable study can be made on the full-page illustration that
appears on page 159, in Volume Five. Questions best induce interest in a
picture, but the questions should be asked systematically. The following
is a model on the picture named above, _Geraint hears Enid singing_.
1. _General view._ How many men are in the picture? What do they appear
to be doing? What is the building at the right?
2. _Details._ Who is the man on horse-back? How is he dressed? What is
hanging from a chain on his breast? What is he looking at? What is the
expression on his face? What is the color of his horse? Have you ever
seen a bridle and a harness like these in the picture? Do you think the
man loved his horse and took good care of him? Who is the man standing
beside the horse? How would you describe his garments? What has he in
his right hand? What is its use, and what does it signify? What does the
gesture with his left hand indicate? What do you think of the building
on the right? Is it new or old? What seems to be growing on the walls?
What does this mean? What seems to be growing up between the stones of
the pavement?
3. _The center of interest._ Are the men talking together? If so, why
are they not looking at each other? Does the attitude and expression of
the man on the horse suggest an interesting topic? (Tell the story in
part, and read the lines covering this episode, page 156. Is the center
of interest now made clear?)
4. _Purpose._ What did the artist mean to do by means of this picture?
Did he select an important and interesting event in the story?
5. _Conception and appropriateness._ Has the artist followed the text
truthfully in his conception? Do you think there is a dramatic interest
in this scene, which made it appropriate for illustration? Would it have
been as effective without the old man in the picture? Why? Does the man
on the horse show his character in his bearing? Has the artist succeeded
in portraying the old man in the character described in the text? Does
the picture please you? Do you think it is a success?
6. _Elements of beauty._ Do you like the soft, even tones of the
picture, the heavy touches of the pen in the main figures and the light
touches in the background? Is the day bright or gloomy? Is the effect of
light on the wall, balcony and doorway pleasing? From what direction
does the light come? How does the artist indicate surfaces in shadow?
Does the outline of the castle through the arch add interest and beauty
to the picture?
After the children have been taught to observe properly, you have in the
pictures numberless interesting subjects for language exercises. A good,
clear-cut description of a picture is worth reading, and to write one
means thought and study. The exercise may be varied by asking the child
to describe the picture before he has any knowledge of the subject and
then asking him to call his imagination into play and write a story to
fit the picture. Later you may read him the story the artist meant to
illustrate.
* * * * *
Besides the color plates and halftones which are found in their proper
places in the several volumes, the following pen and ink drawings are
good examples of the kind of pictures that best repay study:
Volume I, page 22.
Volume I, page 30.
Volume I, page 35.
Volume I, page 67.
Volume I, page 159.
Volume I, page 203.
Volume I, page 375.
Volume I, page 391.
Volume II, page 111.
Volume II, page 228.
Volume II, page 384.
Volume III, page 141.
Volume III, page 324.
Volume IV, page 452.
Volume V, page 97.
Volume V, page 253.
Volume VI, page 145.
Volume VI, page 361.
Volume VII, page 281.
Volume VII, page 439.
Volume VIII, page 160.
Volume VIII, page 321.
Volume IX, page 118.
Volume IX, page 248.
CHAPTER IV
TELLING STORIES
Before a child can read he develops a passion for stories, and nothing
delights him more than an interesting tale from the loving lips of
father or mother. In good kindergartens and primary schools, there are
teachers who tell stories to the little ones and do it well, but parents
will not wish to delegate it entirely to teachers, for story-telling is
the best way of getting at the hearts of children and planting those
germs which later grow into refined taste in reading as well as ripen
into real character. On the other hand, the teachers may neglect to tell
stories to their pupils or are not skilled either in selection or in
manner of telling. Parents who are interested in the welfare of their
small boys and girls will wish to know what is being done and how it is
accomplished, but may have little idea of the material it is wise to use
or where to find good subjects for their tales.
Proper selection is highly important, for taste and appetite for certain
kinds of literature may be created long before the child can read for
himself. Strong-minded, courageous little boys will love to hear of
giants and ogres, and will revel in adventures that may terrify their
more delicate sisters. George hates the fierce foes that Jack the
Giant-Killer meets, and dreams of the time when he can overpower and
slay his own ogres. Alice listens tremblingly, and when she goes to her
little bed at night lies in fear and trembling, while hideous faces leer
at her from out the shadowed recesses. George never wearies of our
oldest poem, _Beowulf_, while Alice wants only _Cinderella_, or at most
_Bluebeard_. It is nothing less than cruelty to fill the imaginations of
sensitive children with deeds of violence and tales of sadness and woe.
Yet it is no less true that some young folks are the better for their
giants, their knights and their battles. On the whole, it is wiser to
keep the giants, the ogres and the suffering people in the background,
or to dwell upon them only when there seems a demand for them; later,
lead the young imaginations into the realms of history and real life
where giants are very real and ogres yet remain to be subdued. Do not
tell sad or exciting stories in the evening. Keep the quiet, peaceful
things for bed-time stories.
Here, then, is the great opportunity for the parent. The teacher has
thirty or more children of as many different temperaments from homes as
varied in culture as the children are different in appearance, and to
them she must tell her story as to one. The parent has but his own
little flock, whom he has known every day of their lives, and whose
souls are as transparent as glass to his watchful and sympathetic eye.
How certain may he feel in his selection of material, how powerful in
his recital!
Perhaps, however, he may find the pleasant task an unaccustomed one, may
have forgotten what he knew as a boy, and may not know where to turn for
material. Here these books come to his assistance with material for
every taste and suited to every occasion. In the beginning of the first
volume are the nursery rhymes which children have enjoyed for ages,
which are read, or far better told, to infants who rejoice in the
pictures. Between the nursery rhymes and the literature that follows is
quite a gap, intentionally left by the editor. There are no pretty
little tales in words of one syllable for beginners to read, but there
are good fables and stories to be told while the children are learning
to read, and later, to be read by the young people themselves. No parent
can go astray in selection if he knows his own children.
Do not be afraid to _tell_ the story--reading it aloud will not be half
so effective. Select a fable or a short story first. Read it carefully,
and then shut the book and think about it. Be sure you have the plot in
your mind, make the hero and the other characters seem very real to
yourself, picture the scenes vividly in your mind's eye, and you are
ready to begin.
1. _Use Your Own Words._ Simple words, graphic, commonplace words, are
the best. The older children will be just as much entertained, and the
younger ones can understand better. On the other hand, do not talk
_down_ to their level; they will resent the idea and laugh at you. _Keep
on their level._ That means that you must be sure you know your audience
before you begin to talk.
2. _Talk Naturally._ Forget that you are telling a story for the effect
it will produce. Forget yourself. Tell the story as you would tell them
an incident you have just seen.
3. _Look Your Children in the Eyes._ Find the responsive eyes and get
your inspiration from them; seek out the dull and uninterested eyes and
talk to them till they brighten up and respond to your enthusiasm. Let
every child know that many times you have looked him square in the face
and make everyone feel you are talking straight at him.
4. _Supply Many Details._ Children love them; their lives are made up of
little things. Don't think you are ignoring the real story by your
additions. The details you give are probably the very ones the author of
the original story intended you to supply from your own imagination as
you read. Under this head comes the giving of names to characters;
descriptions of clothes, of facts, of feelings; the addition of new
incidents.
The recital of a bare plot is not an interesting story. For instance: "A
boy on his way to school found a yellowbird's nest with four little
birds in it," is the recitation of a bare plot. Is it interesting? Would
the story appeal to children? What do you think of the form following?
"John told me an interesting story this morning. As he was coming to
school today he saw a little yellowbird fly from the bushes by the big
tree at the corner of Mr. Brown's yard. He parted the leaves and looked
into the bush, but for quite a while he could see nothing. At last,
however, he spied a pretty little nest in the fork of a limb and so low
that he could look right down into it. John must have made some noise,
because when he looked in he saw four little, wide-open red mouths, and
that was about all. Of course, there were little half-naked bodies under
the gaping mouths, but he couldn't see them, for each little bird was
shaking his head about, stretching it up higher and higher and opening
his mouth wider and wider. You see, to each little bird a rustling sound
meant that the mother bird had come back with a bit of tasty breakfast
in her mouth. When the wee babies found that they had made a mistake
they closed their mouths, drew down their heads and packed themselves
away so tightly that I'm sure they can't be cold while their mother is
away."
5. _Be Intimate and Personal with Your Audience._ Express your opinion
now and then as your own; interrupt the story occasionally (not often
enough to spoil the interest) by asking for the ideas of the children.
Let them guess, sometimes, at the outcome of the story. Make them feel
that they are an important part of the exercise. Sometimes they will
help you wonderfully.
6. _Use Direct Discourse Wherever Possible._ Make your characters speak
in their own words. Say, "John said, 'I saw the nest,'" rather than,
"John said that he saw the nest."
7. _Keep the Climax Out of Sight as Long as Possible._ Curiosity is a
large factor in interest, and if the children know "how the story is
coming out" you are liable to lose their attention. However, you will
find that some stories will prove such favorites to young children that
they will call for the tales again and again. Occasionally small
children are very particular about the way in which a story is
repeated--there must be no deviations from the way in which it was first
told. You may congratulate yourself on having told the story well, if
the children ask for its repetition; and if they criticise your second
telling you may know you did very well in your first attempt.
8. _Be Enthusiastic; Be Dramatic._ Throw yourself into the tale; _see_
what you are describing; _feel_ what your characters feel, and _enjoy_
the story itself. Speak distinctly; use clear, sympathetic tones; speak
slowly or rapidly as the action demands, and use pauses effectively.
Don't be in a hurry. See that your face expresses your feelings, that
your attitudes are easy and your gestures appropriate and graceful. Act
your part.
9. _Do not Preach._ Tell the story so the moral, if there is any, may be
seen and felt without your striving to point it out.
10. _Talk the Story Over Freely with Your Children._ Try to get their
ideas, rather than to give your own. You can tell whether you have
succeeded and what your faults in narration have been.
_The Fairies of the Caldon-Low_
The difference between poetry and prose may be shown in rather a
startling manner with such a selection as _The Fairies of the
Caldon-Low_ (Volume II, page 395). Children like Mary Howitt's little
narrative, but what does it really say? Let us put it in plain prose and
see!
"Where have you been, Mary?"
"I've been to the top of Caldon-Low to see the midsummer night."
"What did you see?"
"I saw the sunshine come down and the winds blow."
"What did you hear?"
"I heard the water-drops made and the ears of corn fill."
"Tell me everything, Mary, for you must have seen the fairies."
"Then take me on your knee, mother, and listen. Last night a hundred
fairies danced on lively feet to the merry music of nine harpers, but
the merriest thing was the sound of the fairy talk."
"What did you hear them say?"
"I'll tell you, but let me do it in my own way. Some rolled water down
the hill and said, 'this will turn the poor old miller's wheel, and a
busy man he will be by morning. There has been no rain since the first
of May, and how the jolly old miller will laugh till the tears fill his
eyes when he sees the water rise in the milldam.' And some seized the
winds and put horns to their mouths and blew sharply. 'And there!' said
they shrilly, 'the merry winds go from every horn to clear the damp
mildew from the blind old widow's corn. Though she has been blind for a
long time she'll be merry enough when the corn stands up stiff and
strong without any mildew!' Then some brought flax seed and flung it
down, saying, 'by sunrise this will be growing in the weaver's field,
and how the poor lame fellow will laugh when he sees his vacant field
filled with blue flax flowers in a single day.' Then a brownie with a
long beard spoke, 'I have spun all the tow and I want more. I have spun
a linen sheet for Mary's bed and an apron for her mother.' I couldn't
help but laugh out loud, and then I was alone. On the top of Caldon-Low,
the mists were cold and gray and I could see nothing but mossy stones
lying about me. But as I came down I heard the jolly miller laughing
and his wheel going merrily. I peeped into the widow's cornfield and,
sure enough, the golden corn was free from mildew, and at the gate of
the croft stood the weaver, whose eye told the good news about his flax
field. Now that's all I heard and all I saw, so please make my bed,
mother, for I'm as tired as I can be."
Rather a pretty story, even in plain prose, is it not? It is re-written
just about as it would be told to a little child for the first time, a
child interested in the good fairies who do good things for the poor and
the suffering. Then a little later, when the child reads for himself he
can see how much better Mary Howitt tells the story in verse.
Nevertheless, some children will prefer it in prose and often may ask to
have other poems "told in prose." There is no reason for refusing. Story
first, poem afterward, is a good rule to follow if you want to create a
taste for poetry. Sometimes just a remark, "Let us see how this sounds
in poetry," will create enough interest to enable the parent to begin
reading aloud to an attentive audience. Most children will not learn to
like poetry if left to their own devices. It must be read aloud to them
and its beauties pointed out occasionally to create a love for so
artificial a thing as metrical composition.
Parents will find in the General Index at the end of this volume not
only reference to the contents of _Journeys_ by title and author, but
also a classification of subject matter, so that it will be easy to find
different examples of poetry,--lyric, ballad, sonnet,--and of
prose,--fiction, adventure, history, etc., offering a wide range of
selection for story-telling purposes.
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_
This little narrative poem (Volume IV, page 461), is intensely dramatic.
Too abrupt in style for easy reading and filled with words the children
may not understand, it is not well adapted to the very young. But
there's a story in it of courage and deep patriotism that will be an
inspiration to every child who can hear it. What better subject can a
parent find for his son's encouragement than a tale told in his own
words or read in the following?
Little Giffin of Tennessee was only a boy, only a boy of sixteen, not
bigger nor stronger than Charlie, Thomas or George Jones whom you see
going by to school every day. Yet he wasn't running along bareheaded
carrying a bat or swinging his books by a strap. Little Giffin was a
poor wounded soldier boy who had been already in eighteen battles; more
than one, you see, for every year of his short life.
In the last terrible charge, a grape shot had struck him in the leg and
arm and torn the flesh from his broken bones. Over him his comrades
swept up to the face of the enemy's guns, and little Giffin was left to
fight his battle with cold, and rain and hunger. All night long he lay
moaning on the ground, and it was late in the forenoon of the next day
when he was found and taken to the hospital.
There they laid his mangled body among the hundreds of others who had
met with a fate as hard as his own. It was hours before the surgeons
could come to him, and then so hurried were they by other calls upon
them that only a hasty dressing of his poisoned wound was possible.
Some kindly visitors found him there, his fair young face flushed with
the deadly fever, and begged the surgeons to do something for him.
"We can do nothing," they said. "Our hands are full. His case is
hopeless. We must help where it will do some good."
"But may we take him with us? May we see what we can do for him? Perhaps
we can find a doctor who can cure him."
"Take him and welcome," the surgeon replied. "But you can find no doctor
who can save the dead. Little Giffin can never get well."
But the good people lifted the broken form and carried it out from the
hospital's deadly air, into the golden sunshine and away to a clean
little cot in a humble home where a good doctor treated him and a kind
motherly nurse hung over him and soothed his feverish brain for many a
weary hour. For days it seemed that every breath would be his last and
for months his sufferings wrung the hearts of his friends.
But at last there came a day when he could sit up a little, and then for
weeks he hobbled about, an almost helpless cripple with a rude crutch
for his only support.
But his new friends had known that he would get well, for even during
the days of burning fever and the weeks of weary recovery his heart had
been filled with courage and his steel blue eye had glinted with a
dauntless spirit that would not die.
The crippled right arm and mangled fingers were slow in healing and
nearly useless when the wounds were closed and only ugly scars remained.
In spite of all, though, he learned again to write, and you can imagine
that the first letter, in its scraggly writing, began, "My Dearest
Mother," and the next, "Dear Captain."
Mother's answer came first and brought warmth and love to the heart of
the brave little cripple who dreamed now only of home--home, which he
had not dared hope to see again. But then the Captain's letter came:
"Dear Giffin:
"Your letter reached me tonight. God bless you, my boy. I thought you
were gone with the others. Of the eighty-five who made that fatal charge
only you and I are now alive. They say that Johnston is hard pressed and
needs every man----"
Little Giffin never finished reading the letter. He was up and ready to
start away to the front, to his Captain and to Johnston.
"Johnston needs every man," he said, as the first tears he had shed came
to his brave blue eyes. "He needs every man and I'll be some help. I'll
write to you, if I'm spared. Good bye. God bless you, kindest of
friends."
He was gone. Long his friends waited for word from Giffin, little Giffin
of Tennessee. But there came only the news of a terrible battle with
Johnston, where indeed every man was needed.
And little Giffin? Little Giffin never wrote.
But I'd rather have one loyal Giffin, in a nameless grave on a southern
battle field, than all the cowardly men who would fawn around me if I
were a king.
Now I'll read you a little poem which tells better than I can the story
of brave little Giffin of Tennessee.
_The Ballad of Agincourt_
By telling the story and giving some explanation of difficult terms, we
are often able to create an interest in poems that would otherwise
remain unread. The best of old English ballads are so full of martial
spirit that they may well prove an inspiration to many a boy in these
days when war has so recently rent the whole world and proved the
courage of our own young men. Back of the action that brought bloodshed
and suffering is a spirit of loyalty, a genuine patriotism that is as
much needed now as when it animated the souls of the British soldiery in
those days of long ago. It is part of our inheritance, and may not be
forgotten. It is to be hoped that we may never need it again amid the
smoke and carnage of the battlefield, or in the silent horror of the
trenches, but we have each for himself conflicts to wage with foes more
insidious than the armed forces of rival nations, and we can win them
only by the same spirit of devotion that brought victory at Agincourt.
_The Ballad of Agincourt_ (Volume V, page 95), is followed by notes that
make clear its historical setting, but a few comments may help to a
better appreciation of the inspirational value of the selection.
It is natural that in verses written about three hundred years ago there
should be found some crudities in style, some lapses in syntax, and not
a few words strange to us or having a meaning somewhat different from
their present significance. Among such lapses in syntax we find the
slight confusion of tenses in the first stanza, caused in the poet's
mind by the necessity of making a rhyme for France, though this might
have been obviated by writing "stands" for "stood" and using the present
tense throughout. The necessities of rhyme troubled Drayton not a
little: he must pronounce "Agincourt" as it is written to rhyme with
"sort," which, by the way, is not a perfect rhyme for "fort" in the
sixth stanza, and "great" does not rhyme with "seat" nor "feat"; in the
seventh, "rear," "there" and "were" do not rhyme; other instances are
easily found. Of words not now familiar, or used in an unfamiliar sense,
the following are examples: We do not frequently speak of the wind
"standing" in a certain direction; we do not often "advance" our sails
nor "prove" our chance; "vaward" and "bilboes" are old words; "ding" in
the sense used here has long been forgotten; of "archery" except as a
sport we know nothing; "Spanish yew" is no longer valuable for bows, and
few can tell how long a "clothyard" (the English ell, 45 inches long)
is, or whether it differs from any other "yard" as a measure of length.
If the things just mentioned are defects they are of little moment and
add to the quaintness of the verses without detracting from their force.
Anyone who reads for inspiration and for his own betterment puts aside
the critical spirit, places himself in the position of the writer,
harmonizes thoughts and reads for the message without much concern for
the medium. But there are force, action, rhythm, clearness and beauty
in this old ballad. Let us see what we can find without carrying
analysis to the point where it destroys the spirit. All we need is an
understanding of the meaning of the sentences and an expressive reading
aloud. The former, we can supply here, the latter the reader must
contribute. Poetry must be read aloud to be appreciated by any but those
who can listen to their thoughts and hear the words their eyes garner
from the printed page. Such readers are few.
Here is the paraphrase that makes the meaning clear.
With a wind blowing straight for France the English soldiery spread
their sails to try one more campaign against their ancient enemies.
Crossing the open sea they landed at the mouth of the Seine river,
following King Henry and his noble courtiers.
There was fighting all the way, and many a strongly garrisoned fort was
taken, to the joy of all the English. Every day had its skirmish with
the French, who stoutly defended the way to Agincourt where lay their
commander with all his great army of fifty thousand men. Here the
Frenchman sent to King Henry the sarcastic message: "You are going to
your doom. Better get your ransom ready before you advance further." To
this insult the English king made no answer, but an angry smile that
foreshadowed the fall of his vile opponents flashed from his eyes.
Turning to his men, however, the brave king spoke: "Don't be alarmed if
they do outnumber us ten to one. We have begun nobly. Battles so bravely
won as these we have fought, have always been lauded to the skies. Your
fame shall never die. And as for myself, this is my task. I shall not
ask England to mourn for me nor to praise me. If I am not victor here,
or if I am slain, never shall she be asked for one penny to redeem me.
From the great battles of Poitiers and Cressy we learn that when the
French were the most swollen with pride they fell beneath our swords.
Our skill is none the less than that of those who fought under our great
grandsire when he defeated the French and cut their national emblems to
the ground."
What a battle array it was! The vanguard was led by the dread Duke of
York; the king himself in the midst of his brave guards sped in the
center with the main body of the troops, while the valiant rearguard was
captained by Excester, courageous as any man in the great army.
And now the fight begins! Armour on armour shines; drum now to drum does
groan,--to hear is wonder; that, with the cries they make, shakes the
very earth; trumpet to trumpet speaks, thunder to thunder.
From the ambuscade of our hidden forces the noble Erpingham gives the
signal for the English archers to fire. Now like a storm the
cloth-yard-long arrows sped by the strong bows of Spanish yew strike the
French horses, stinging them like serpents through the withers. Every
bowman stands to his place, not one deserting; every true English heart
rejoices in the slaughter.
Down go the bows when the arrows are shot, out spring the great swords,
as the English fly on the French, not one laggard in the company;
straight from their shoulders spring the blows that cleave the heads of
the French peasants and drop them in the dust of trampling feet.
Meantime the noble king, brandishing his broad-sword, dashes along the
French line as though to overwhelm it with his mighty blows, while many
a wound sheds blood on his arms and many a cruel dint sinks into his
helmet.
The good duke Glo'ster, next of the royal blood, fights side by side
with his brave brother, and the youthful Clarence in this almost the
first of his battles fights as furiously as any experienced knight;
Warwick wades in blood, and Oxford adds to the cruel slaughter of the
foe. Suffolk plies his axe manfully while Beaumont, Willoughby, Ferrers
and Fanhope, names for the English to conjure with, bear themselves as
bravely.
_Hervé Riel_
Let us take, as a final example, Browning's poem _Hervé Riel_ (Volume
VIII, page 168). We will set about the preparation of it together. First
we will read the note and then the poem. * * * It is a stirring thing, a
noble monument to a noble man. It is worth the telling. We will read
through it again and mark the passages that contain the incidents that
make the story, so that we may not have to hesitate for ideas after we
begin to talk. * * * Really, the plot is more simple than we thought. It
is merely this: "The French fleet, defeated by the English, arrives off
the harbor of Saint Halo. They call for pilots, but none will try to
conduct the big ships through the dangerous channel, and the captains
decide to wreck and burn their ships, so the English may not capture
them. Just at this time a simple Breton sailor offers to pilot the
vessels through, under penalty of death. The commander puts him in
charge of the fleet and he takes them safely into the harbor. The
English arrive just too late to do any damage, and the French commander,
grateful to his deliverer, offers him any reward he may wish. The Breton
laughs and asks for one day's leave to go and visit his wife who lives
near by."
Let us consider the persons. Evidently Hervé Riel is the only one we
need mention by name. We could give him a simpler name, but if the story
is true, everyone ought to remember him. We must try to make him seem
alive. We must make his deed seem great and must make a point of his
patriotic devotion and of his beautiful love for his wife.
Now we are ready to talk, as soon as we have thought a little and
assured ourselves that we are in the right spirit. So, facing our
audience of small children, we begin:
I've just been reading _Hervé Riel_, a story that I like so much I must
tell it to you. A long time ago, before there was a (name your town),
really before there was a United States, there was a long war across the
ocean between the great nations, England and France. There had been a
bloody battle between their navies, and the French had been beaten.
Still twenty-two of their ships escaped, sailed to their own country and
arrived outside the harbor of Saint Malo. But they were not safe, by any
means. The English were close behind and could soon overtake and capture
or destroy all the French vessels, and put to death many of their
crews. Inside the harbor the French knew they would be safe, for no
English vessel could get through the long, crooked channels without a
pilot, and no Frenchman would lead the English.
Without even waiting to anchor, the captains made signals for pilots and
many skilled ones came off to the ships. When the pilots heard that the
French were crippled and must get into the harbor they laughed at the
captains.
"Go through there now?" they said. "Why, you can't do it. Don't you see
it's low tide and the rocks are showing everywhere? The channel is
crooked and very dangerous at high water and now you could not get your
smallest ship through safely, let alone such a large ship as the
_Formidable_ here, with her ninety-two big guns. It can't be done."
Nothing could change the minds of the pilots. They knew their business
thoroughly. So the captains met to decide what they should do. The
commander addressed them, saying:
"The English are at our heels. What shall we do? Do you want them to tow
us all, one behind the other, back to their country to become their
prizes? Not I. Better run all the ships aground, set fire to them, and
escape ourselves if we can."
The brave captains all looked at their commander. Every man shut his
teeth together, set his brows, and with flashing eyes said, "Speak the
word; we will obey."
But the commander never gave his order! Right into the excited group
stepped a man; not a captain, not even a second mate; just a plain,
simple sailor who lived near Saint Malo. He had not even joined the
fleet of his own will, but had been seized and carried on board long
before the battle, because the navy was short of sailors. You might
think he would want revenge for being taken away from his home and his
fishing. Did he? At first he was too much excited to speak, but in a
moment he stormed out:
"What's the matter with you pilots? Are you mad, or fools, or cowards,
or have the English bought you body and soul? Don't talk to me of rock
and shallow places and crooked channels! Haven't I sailed these waters
for years, and don't I know every shallow place, every dangerous turn,
every inch of the way? You cowards! There's a way through, I tell you."
Then Hervé Riel turned to the commander and shouted, "Put me in charge
of this ship, the biggest, this _Formidable_, and I'll steer her
through. Make the others follow me closely. They'll all come safely in.
Try me; I'll do it. I haven't much to offer for the chance, but if this
ship so much as touches her keel on a hidden rock, you may cut off my
head. Let me try, sir."
The commander replied, "We have not a second to spare. You're admiral
here! Take the helm and lead us through!"
Hervé Riel was as prompt as the commander, and seizing the tiller, he
soon had the great ship sailing along under perfect control. She went
into the narrow channel, with the great rocks high on both sides. The
waves beat up angrily and the breakers threw their spray high over the
decks. With eyes fixed on the channel and both hands on the helm, he
guided the staunch vessel on the winding course. Time and again it
seemed as though she must be wrecked, but just at the moment of greatest
danger Hervé Riel shifted the helm, and the stately ship moved safely
on. With hearts beating high, the officers watched the wonderful deed,
and the frightened sailors clung speechless to the rail. Finally,
between two great rocks that seemed to block the channel completely, the
ship sailed majestically into the harbor, and Hervé Riel had kept his
promise. Not once had the great _Formidable_ touched her keel to a rock;
not a scratch, except the battle scars, marred her fair sides.
After her, one by one, came the other ships of the squadron, till all
were anchored safely in the harbor. Just as the last ship came to
anchor, the English fleet, coming up in helpless anger, began to throw
shells across the passage. The French, however, were out of range and
could laugh at the fruitless attempts of their enemy. With one voice the
captains and sailors of the rescued fleet shouted, "Hervé Riel! Hervé
Riel! Now, let the king of France reward the man who has saved his
fleet!"
And what of the brave sailor? He stood calm and quiet without a gleam of
pride in his frank blue eyes. Just the same man as he was before his
gallant deed, he answered the commander's call and stood before him.
"My friend," began the commander, "I can scarcely speak, but you know
praise comes from the heart and not from the lips. You have saved the
fleet from certain destruction and have preserved the lives of many of
your countrymen. No reward is too great for you. Ask what you will and
it shall be granted."
Hervé Riel's blue eyes danced with merriment as he said, "Now that my
work is over I would like, if I may have it, one whole day to visit my
wife, whom I call 'Beautiful Aurora,' and who lives just a little way
from Saint Malo. That is all I want. May I go?"
You can imagine whether or not his request was granted.
Now, do you know, that brave act was forgotten; Hervé Riel was forgotten
for many centuries. No monument was erected to his memory; there seemed
nothing to keep the patriotic man alive in the hearts of his countrymen.
But one day, not so many years ago, Robert Browning, the great English
poet, heard the story, and he was so moved by the heroic deed and the
quiet humor of the man, that he wrote a fine, manly poem and called it
_Hervé Riel_, so that it should remain as a monument to the patriotism
and character of the simple French sailor.
If the children are older and studying history, we would give more of an
idea of the place, and of the occasion and show what the effect of
saving the ship really was. The poem is an excellent one, but most
children do not care for it till they have heard the story and have
studied the text. Then they are delighted with it and will read it again
and again. It has been many years since the writer of this first read
_Hervé Riel_, but he has never wearied of it and cannot read it now
without a thrill of admiration for the hero and for Browning's monument.
When you tell the story, do not try to tell it as this has been told.
Use _your_ words, select for emphasis the parts that appeal to _you_ and
give the children just the ideas that _you_ have conceived.
Other classics that will make just as good subjects for story telling
are in every volume of _Journeys_. The following list contains only a
few of them. By adapting them to the age of the young listeners, almost
any of them may be made suitable for almost any age:
Volume I, page 79. _Little Red Riding Hood._
Volume I, page 101. _Silver Locks and the Three Bears._
Volume I, page 134. _The Dog in the Manger._
Volume I, page 431. _Baucis and Philemon._
Volume I, page 456. _The Story of Joseph._
Volume II, page 111. _The Punishment of Loki._
Volume II, page 448. _The Story of Esther._
Volume II, page 387. _What the Old Man Does Is Always Right._
Volume III, page 436. _Robin Hood._
Volume IV, page 192. _The Pine-Tree Shillings._
Volume IV, page 274. _David._
Volume IV, page 383. _The Wooden Horse._
Volume V, page 130. _Balin and Balan._
Volume V, page 237. _The Passing of Arthur._
Volume VI, page 143. _Ruth._
CHAPTER V
READING AND THE BUILDING OF CHARACTER
I
The influences which unite to make character are so numerous, subtle and
complex that it is next to impossible to detect them or to classify them
in order of importance. Not only is this true of the aggregate, but it
is true of the individual. It is doubtful if any person in middle life
can tell just what he is or just how he became himself. He is aware of
some great influences that have exerted their power over him at certain
crises in his life, but the little things which, taken together, have
done more to form and fix his character are often unrecognized or
undervalued. Fortunately, at this time we need to give attention to only
one phase of the great question.
Character is the one important thing. Great as is the value of book
education, of practical power and of good health, still greater is the
importance of sound, wholesome character; and, consciously or
unconsciously, intentionally or unintentionally, the teacher and the
parent are incessantly at work building the characters of the young
people placed in their charge. Most of us, too, are working toward right
ends as conscientiously as possible. Yet often we grow faint-hearted, or
are puzzled to know what we can do to help the children and how we can
do it most effectively.
That the influence of reading on character is one of the most powerful
is granted by every high-minded person who has written or spoken upon
the subject. Really, it is not an influence, but a series of influences,
wide, complex, far-reaching. The extended range of subjects, the
infinite variety in style, the unlimited shades in sentiment to be found
in literature make its presence influential everywhere and always. In
reading there is comfort for the sorrowing, companionship for the
lonely, encouragement for the downcast, entertainment for the leisurely,
inspiration for the sluggish. Gentle, pervasive, almost unnoticed, yet
stronger than iron bands, is the power of literature over us. We are
what we read.
If such be the case, then there need be no argument concerning the
importance of suitable reading matter for the young. To leave a child
wholly to his own inclinations in reading is as absurd as to send him to
take honey from a swarm of angry bees and not expect him to be stung.
Inevitably, he will be injured, and that seriously. To supply him with
honey, all that he wants, at all times and without exertion to himself,
is to clog his taste and destroy his appetite. We must see that he is
led to look for the sweet, taught to recognize it when he finds it, and
to extract it from the comb. He will enjoy working to get it. On the
other hand, he must not be sent where his reward is too difficult to
find and secure, lest he become discouraged and cease to work.
School readers furnish much excellent material for reading; in the
majority of schools there is furnished more or less of supplementary
reading which is quite as good as that in the text-books and which will
have the merit of novelty and exclusiveness. Yet, in spite of this,
parents and teachers are continually finding themselves at a loss for
fresh and inspiring things for special occasions. All these may be had
from _Journeys Through Bookland_ and to assist in finding them and in
using them after found the following has been written.
II
Character is made up of a great variety of traits; some of the mind,
some of the heart, some of the soul. That is, what we are is composed of
what we know, what we feel and what we believe. In response to those
things we act; we govern ourselves in respect to ourselves and in
respect to others.
The grave responsibility that rests upon parents and teachers is to
encourage those traits which make for noble manhood and womanhood and to
correct or eradicate as far as possible those which are bad in
themselves or which help to neutralize or destroy the good ones.
Much may be accomplished by correct teaching of good principles, but
human nature is such that people learn even more through indirection
than through instruction. By means of the study of literature the best
direct instruction may be given, and wholesome lessons may be taught
abundantly in that charming way which accomplishes its purpose without a
recognition on the part of the readers that they are being _taught_. The
force and persistence of a good lesson of the latter kind cannot be
estimated. It may be years before it exhausts itself, and its effect may
be revolutionary.
The wise instructor, though she does not make known all her plans, works
systematically. That is, having learned that a child is lacking in some
respect, such as a knowledge of what constitutes good character, or in
certain desirable traits of character, or possesses some characteristics
that should be changed, she proceeds slowly and persistently to bring
about the results she desires.
III
In _Journeys Through Bookland_ the mother will find much to assist her.
The influence of nearly all the selections will be for the betterment of
character, will tend to make better men and women of the children. But
when she is looking for some direct help, for something to produce a
certain definite result, she will study the books carefully and select
the things which are most effective. To help her in her selection we
have prepared the following outline. It does not contain everything of
value, but it is sufficiently comprehensive for its purpose, and will
save much time for anyone.
Now let us not be unwise in teaching these things. Let us be satisfied
if we secure the interest of the pupils in the selection and get from
them the smile of approval, the look of guilt, the slight indication of
a determination to profit by the lesson. Many times we will refrain from
comment lest we spoil the effect of something much finer, more inspiring
than anything we can say ourselves.
The things we have chosen for their direct influence on the growing
character of children will be grouped by subject in three general
classes:
A. The selections in this group are calculated to set children to
thinking properly about some serious subjects. While not as important as
some others may be in the formation of character, they are yet of no
small consequence.
1. Wisdom, ignorance, keenness, wit, etc., in some of their many phases
are shown in the fables and the brief poem listed here:
_The Ass in the Lion's Skin_, Volume I, page 65.
_The Fox and the Stork_, I, 73.
_The Fox and the Grapes_, I, 135.
_The Bat and the Two Weasels_, I, 154.
_The Horse and the Stag_, I, 338.
_The Fox, the Wolf and the Horse_, I, 377.
_The Bald Knight_, I, 385.
_The Wolf and the Lamb_, I, 455.
_Minerva and the Owl_, II, 7.
_The Country Squire_, VI, 474. (To ridicule ignorance but not the
ignorant person is sometimes a valuable means of inciting a love for
knowledge.)
2. The importance of attention to little things is inculcated in the
following:
_The Lion and the Mouse_, Volume I, page 75.
_The Reaper and the Flowers_, I, 410.
_The Daffodils_, VII, 1.
_The Petrified Fern_, VII, 77.
3. The following will help to create habits of promptness, industry and
perseverance:
_Time to Rise_, Volume I, page 340.
_The Hare and the Tortoise_, I, 71.
_The Lark and Her Young Ones_, I, 131.
_Industry and Sloth_, I, 300.
_Whittington and His Cat_, I, 442.
_Tom, the Water Baby_, II, 215.
_The Village Blacksmith_, IV, 86.
_Bruce and the Spider_, V, 314.
4. These show the sterling worth of independence and the real equality
of man:
_The Village Blacksmith_, Volume IV, page 86.
_For A' That and A' That_, VII, 149.
5. Courage and bravery are shown to be admirable and cowardice is made
shameful in these selections:
_The Boy and the Nettle_, Volume I, page 65.
_The Mice and the Cat_, I, 197.
6. The evil of conceit and overweening self-esteem may be shown
emphatically by the use of such selections as these:
_The Gnat and the Bull_, Volume I, page 70.
_The Cock and the Horses_, I, 146.
_The Pea Blossom_, I, 205.
_The Sparrow and the Eagle_, II, 8.
_The Milkmaid_, II, 374.
7. Flattery as a vice is made to seem unworthy, and its victim
ridiculous in the two selections following:
_The Fox and the Crow_, Volume I, page 64.
_The Spider and the Fly_, III, 19.
B. Our character is largely made up of our feelings and emotions. Reason
takes us in hand and tells us right from wrong, but we must feel before
we can act. To cultivate right feeling, laudable emotions; to make one
_wish_ to do and hence _will_ to do is perhaps the greatest function of
real literature, that is the literature of beauty and of inspiration.
Our collection is rich in this direction and to find material for
lessons is an easy task. Yet not everyone has the time to find, classify
and use everything; hence the following lists.
Before giving them, however, a word of caution is necessary. Remember
that these selections are not all suitable for children of every age.
Some that will delight the little children and stimulate them to
enthusiastic efforts to do right, will not appeal to older ones.
Moreover, the natural bent of a child's mind, the associations he has
formed, his home surroundings, and his present character will all need
to be considered before making choice of the subject matter. As for the
manner of presentation, enough will be found in the studies in _Journeys
Through Bookland_ and in other parts of this volume safely to guide the
young and inexperienced.
1. The influences of home and family are the greatest that come into the
lives of most children. Love of home, of parents, of brothers and
sisters, of children, are the perfectly natural things of existence. Yet
often the ties are weak; not infrequently are they broken. Children
drift away from the restraining and helpful influence of their parents,
and families disintegrate. The results are bad. By properly teaching
such selections as the following, much may be done to correct the evil
and to intensify the highest, holiest emotions of mankind:
_The Rock-a-by Lady_, Volume I, page 94.
_Little Birdie_, I, 142.
_Sleep, Baby, Sleep_, I, 204.
_Old Gaelic Lullaby_, I, 203.
_Lady Button-Eyes_, I, 366.
_The First Snowfall_, II, 403.
_Rain on the Roof_, IV, 7.
_Pictures of Memory_, IV, 127.
_Bernardo del Carpio_, IV, 270.
_Rab and his Friends_, VI, 99.
_Childhood_, VI, 124.
_Home, Sweet Home_, VI, 221.
_Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead_, VI, 231.
_A Christmas Carol_, VI, 244.
_To My Infant Son_, VI, 478.
_The Old Oaken Bucket_, VII, 11.
_My Old Kentucky Home_, VII, 179.
_The Forsaken Merman_, VII, 180.
_Tom and Maggie Tulliver_, VII, 186.
_The Family of Michael Arout_, VII, 314.
_On Receipt of My Mother's Picture_, VII, 331.
Extract from _Snowbound_, VII, 388.
_The Cotter's Saturday Night_, VIII, 319.
_Dream Children_, VIII, 335.
2. Honesty and truthfulness are cardinal virtues; they are the
foundation of every strong character. Teach these selections and note
their effect:
_The Shepherd Boy and the Wolves_, Volume I, page 92.
_The Falcon and the Partridge_, II, 6.
_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_, III, 384.
_The Cubes of Truth_, VII, 406.
3. Friendliness, kindness, consideration of others, charity and love are
a group of strong characteristics which are admirably shown in the
following:
_The Two Travelers_, Volume I, page 109.
_Cinderella_, I, 224.
_Baucis and Philemon_, I, 431.
_The Snow Queen_, II, 124.
_The King of the Golden River_, II, 405.
_Auld Lang Syne_, VI, 228.
_A Christmas Carol_, VI, 244.
_Florence Nightingale_, IX, 13.
4. Generosity is admirable; selfishness is despicable. Prove the facts
by these:
_The Two Travelers_, Volume I, page 109.
_The Two Travelers and the Oyster_, I, 111.
_The Cat and the Chestnuts_, I, 142.
_Baucis and Philemon_, I, 431.
5. Kindness to animals is next to kindness and sympathy for human
beings. It is best inculcated by teaching the beauty and loveliness of
animals, their value to man and their dependence upon him. The following
will help:
_The Boys and the Frogs_, Volume I, page 63.
_The Brown Thrush_, I, 147.
_Mercy to Animals_, I, 413.
_The Ugly Duckling_, I, 414.
_Tom, the Water Baby_, II, 215.
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_ II, 399.
_A Dog of Flanders_, IV, 93.
_Rab and His Friends_, VI, 99.
_The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_, VII, 29.
6. Patience and gentleness seem charming in these selections:
_The Wind and the Sun_, Volume I, page 95.
_Cinderella_, I, 224.
_Rab and His Friends_, VI, 99.
7. Faithfulness is a virtue. We admire it in:
_Something_, Volume I, page 395.
_Whittington and His Cat_, I, 442.
_The Mirror of Matsuyana_, II, 36.
_The Snow Queen_, II, 124.
_Casabianca_, VIII, 313.
8. That envy and covetousness are unpleasing and unprofitable are shown
by these:
_The Dog and His Shadow_, Volume I, page 63.
_The Frog Who Wished to Be as Big as an Ox_, I, 66.
_The Golden Touch_, II, 43.
9. Contentment, peacefulness, hopefulness are made very attractive in
the following:
_The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse_, Volume I, page 199.
_The Pea Blossom_, I, 205.
_The Flax_, I, 378.
_The Discontented Stone Cutter_, II, 12.
_The Fir Tree_, II, 68.
_The Blind Lassie_, VI, 120.
_Pippa Passes_, IX, 293.
C. We have grouped together here two classes of selections which
inculcate patriotism or devotion to one's fatherland and devotion to
God. How admirable the selections are! You have only to read them to
see:
1. Patriotism:
_Holger Danske_, Volume II, 377.
_Incident of the French Camp_, IV, 174.
_The American Flag_, V, 396.
_Battle Hymn of the Republic_, V, 399.
_Stonewall Jackson's Way_, V, 400.
_Horatius_, VI, 1.
_Bannockburn_, VII, 15.
_Breathes There The Man_, VII, 151.
_How Sleep the Brave_, VII, 151.
_Make Way for Liberty_, VII, 172.
_The Old Continentals_, VII, 175.
_America_, VIII, 60.
_The Battle of Thermopylae_, VIII, 81.
_The Fall of the Alamo_, VIII, 141.
_Hervé Riel_, VIII, 168.
_The Battle of Trafalgar_, VIII, 284.
_The Gettysburg Address_, IX, 321.
2. Suitable selections under this topic are difficult for teachers to
find, owing to the objection there is against religious teaching in the
public schools. Parents have greater liberty of selection. The following
are beautiful and seem wholly unobjectionable:
_A Thought_, Volume I, page 66.
_The First Snowfall_, II, 403.
_Nearer Home_, IV, 126.
_Stonewall Jackson's Way_, V, 400.
_The Rainbow_, VI, 91.
_A Child's Thought of God_, VII, 418.
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_
The obvious purpose of these verses (Volume II, page 399), is to create
a love for birds by making things appear uncomfortable for the boy who
steals their nests. Perhaps the lesson is too obvious. The people who
never steal nests and who always treat birds lovingly will approve of
the verses, but the boy to be reached is the one who does destroy nests
and frightens or kills their owners or the boy who is liable to be led
to do such things. Such a child may have no interest in the verses, may
laugh at the sentiment, even if he can be induced to read or listen to
the rhymes. Sometimes interest can be created and good effects produced
by making prominent every feature except the moral. This can be made
into a little play or dialogue with the following characters:
The Yellow-breast
The Cow
The Dog
The Bobolink
The Sheep
The Crow
The Hen
A Bird
Mary Green
Alice Neal
The Little Boy
Unfortunately, there is only one boy character and he is any boy, in
fact almost every boy, at some time in his life. But he is so ashamed
that he doesn't speak, not even to give his name. Suppose, then, we
don't mention him at all. Just leave him off the list. If he isn't
mentioned and is in the audience, he'll remember what he has done and
feel ashamed and go home and perhaps hide behind the bed and resolve
never to steal another nest. Yes, we are inclined to agree with you that
the poem might be better if there were no last stanza. So the little
drama, in outline, is something like this.
_The Yellow-breast._ Who stole my nest and the four eggs I laid?
_The Cow._ I didn't take your nest. I wouldn't do such a thing. I gave
you a wisp of hay.
_The Yellow-breast._ Who stole my nest? Bobolink, who do you think stole
my nest from the plum tree?
_The Dog._ (Interrupting). I didn't; I wouldn't be so mean. I gave my
hairs to make the nest.
_The Yellow-breast._ Now listen to me. Who stole my nest, Bobolink?
_The Bobolink._ Yes, who stole the Yellow-breast's pretty nest?
_The Sheep._ Not I. I wouldn't treat a bird so. I gave my wool to line
the nest.
_The Yellow-breast._ Who stole my nest, I say?
_The Bobolink._ Who stole her nest?
_The Crow._ I should like to know the thief. Who was it?
_The Hen._ Don't ask me. The chicks and I each gave a feather and she
used them. We would be ashamed to intrude on her.
_A Bird._ Let's all make a stir and find out who it is. Then we'll cry
"For shame!" together.
_Mary Green._ I wouldn't rob a bird. I never heard anything so mean.
_Alice Neal._ It is very cruel. I wonder if the thief knew how sad the
Yellow-breast would feel.
* * * * *
Boys do not steal nests because they are mean and want to give pain.
They admire the pretty eggs, they like the skilfully built nests, and
they do not realize that anything suffers real pain. That is a lesson
they must be taught. Can you teach kindness by cruelty? Is it not rather
cruel to say right out before Mary Green and Alice Neal and the other
girls that the boy was so ashamed he hung his head, hid behind the bed
and wouldn't tell his name?
_Lead, Kindly Light_
NOTE.--John Henry Newman, the author of this beautiful poem (Volume V,
page 110), was born in London in 1801. He entered Oxford before he was
sixteen and achieved the highest distinction in his college course. He
entered the Church of England and became noted for his wonderful
sermons. After some years of prominence in his calling, he was convinced
that his belief was wrong, and in 1845 he entered the Roman Catholic
Church. In 1879 he was created cardinal by Pope Leo XIII. but he
continued to reside in England, where he died in 1890. Besides his great
influence as a spiritual thinker, Newman's writings and sermons were
characterized by a forcible and elevated style and by remarkably
melodious utterance. _Lead, Kindly Light_ shows these traits.
Some words and phrases in the hymn may be made clearer by explanation:
"Kindly Light."--"The light shall shine upon thy ways." (_Job_ xxii,
28.) "The Lord is my light and my salvation." (_Psalms_ xxvii, 1.) "The
Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning
shall be ended." (_Isaiah_ lx, 20.)
In the Bible there are many other instances besides those just given in
which there is a figurative use of the word _light_. It is a natural and
beautiful figure. A person in doubt intellectually or spiritually looks
upon himself as in darkness, and light to him is an intellectual or
spiritual awakening. The light that came to the poet was a _kindly_
light; it removed his doubts and comforted him.
"_Garish day._" The dazzling or glaring day.
"_Moor and fen._" While these words seem new and unusual to us, we must
remember that in England they are as common as the terms _marsh_ and
_swamp_ are with us.
"_Those angel faces smile_," _etc._ The subject of this clause is
_faces_, and the verb is _smile_.
Children will love this hymn though they cannot appreciate its full
significance till maturer years have brought with them the deeper
experiences of life. Still they should know and love the poem and may be
led to a partial understanding of its beauty in sentiment by means of
interpretation carried not too far. By comment and reading somewhat in
the following manner may the most be accomplished:
1. The poet had reached mature years and had felt the oppressing
influence of questioning and doubt, but had reached a sublime faith in
the power and love of God. He still feels, however, the need of the
personal care and guidance of the Almighty, and asks that it may
continue through life. So we may imagine him in one of those thoughtful
moments which come to every one, musing thus: Darkness and night
surround me with their encircling gloom, and I feel that years must pass
before I reach my heavenly home, so--
Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead thou me on;
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on;
While he no longer doubts the care and protection of God, yet he feels
that his own strength is not sufficient; that he may err and stumble in
the path he has chosen. He does not ask that all should be clear, nor
that he should see the long course of his life, but is content to pray--
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.
2. After this invocation and prayer, his thoughts turn back into the
past, and he remembers that in youth he had not this divine faith, nor
did he wish to place his reliance in God. He preferred to lay out his
own course and to plan his life far into the future, without the feeling
of dependence that now rules him. So he sings:
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path, but now
Lead thou me on;
He remembers that then he loved display and ostentation and was proud,
wilful and self-confident; nevertheless, there were times when for a
moment he feared, but in spite of that timidity, he went on in his
masterful way:
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will:
The thought of his self-complacency, his pride and arrogance brings out
the plea, the supplication, "remember not past years."
[Illustration: SIR FRANCIS BACON
JONATHAN SWIFT
CARDINAL NEWMAN
DANIEL DEFOE
CARDINAL WISEMAN
CERVANTES
FATHER RYAN]
3. He remembers that through all his rebellions he has been surrounded
by the power and goodness of God, who has led him through all his
devious paths, and the feeling comes that the same protecting influence
will surround him till doubt is swept aside.
So long thy power hath blessed me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.
He is confident, too, that the same power will lead him through the dark
night of doubt till the angels of love and faith, in whom he once
trusted but whom he has doubted for a time, will come about him and
smile their welcome to the light:
And with the morn those angel faces smile
Which I have loved long since, and lost the while.
_Poor Richard's Almanac_
It is doubtful if _Journeys Through Bookland_ contains any other
selection so full of meat as this extract (Volume VI, page 407) from the
writings of Benjamin Franklin; in fact, it is so full of wisdom on so
many homely subjects and contains so much practical advice that no one
can master it in a single reading.
It is condensed to the utmost limit and every sentence should be weighed
and considered. The wise maxims and old saws need to be expanded in
thought, illustrated by example and applied to the reader's personal
experience.
As a whole it is not particularly attractive to young people, but every
child can be attracted to parts of it. A little of it to-day, more of
it next week, a third part some time in the future, and in time the
whole will be assimilated.
If the truths in this one selection are thoroughly embedded in the mind
of a boy, if the traits of character here taught are made a part of him,
he will be a sound man of business, a sensible head of a family and a
valuable citizen in a community.
_Poor Richard's Almanac_ contains the religion of work, of economy, of
prosperity. It is a manly doctrine, a clear-cut, respectable philosophy,
a reasonable rule of business activity. Never more than today were the
precepts needed. The whole tendency of our modern activities is against
its precepts. Disaster and ruin may be seen on every hand and traced
directly to the neglect or violation of those sound principles which the
wise old Franklin put in such homely words.
These maxims of life and policy are not those which it is the special
province of the school to teach. They are the elementary law which a boy
or girl must learn in his home and see exemplified therein if they are
ever to become a practical part of life's equipment.
The wisdom of the _Almanac_ is the wisdom of practical experience, the
wisdom of those who have lived and worked, who have lost and won. It
does not deal with the finer phases of character, but with those
practical things which lead to a bread-and-butter success.
A boy who knows what _Poor Richard_ teaches and follows his precepts
will be a business success. If a parent can grind into the character of
his child these lessons of industry, simplicity, temperance and
frugality he will have left a legacy more valuable a thousand times than
the wealth he may have amassed, although that is reckoned by the
millions.
Because of the extreme condensation of the address by Father Abraham,
the following outlines have been made to enable a parent to find easily
what is wanted and to present it attractively. The selection is one of
those which children will not master by themselves, but one which the
parent can easily make interesting if he will follow the plans given
below.
Analysis
I. (Page 409.) Taxes are heavy, but we are taxed:
1. Twice as much by our _Idleness_.
2. Three times as much by our _Pride_.
3. Four times as much by our _Folly_.
II. _Idleness_ and _Industry_. (pages 409, 411.)
1. Time wasted in doing nothing (page 409), _sloth_.
(In this connection see fable, _Industry and Sloth_, Volume I, page 300.
Consult index in _this_ volume).
2. Time wasted in _sleep_ (page 410).
3. Time wasted in _wishing_ and _hoping_ (page 411).
4. Industry lost by putting off till tomorrow (page 412).
5. Steadiness in industry wins (page 412).
III. _Folly._ (pages 414-416).
1. Of trusting to others (page 414).
2. Of neglect of small matters (page 414).
3. Of extravagance and the sensibleness of frugality (page 414).
4. Of vice (page 415).
5. Of high living (page 415).
6. Of purchasing unnecessary things (page 415).
7. Of luxury (page 416).
IV. _Pride._ (page 417).
1. Of dress (page 417).
2. In table luxuries (page 417).
3. Of appearance (page 417).
V. _The Madness of Debt._ (pages 417-420).
1. Brings shame (page 417).
2. Causes lying (page 418).
3. Destroys virtue (page 418).
4. Brings slavery (page 419).
5. Prevents success (page 420).
VI. Ask for the _Blessing of Heaven_ (page 420).
VII. Accept _Counsel_. Do not wait for _Experience_.
Following the arrangement of the analysis above we may group a series of
typical maxims, each of which can be made the basis of one of those
little fireside talks which bear so prominent a part in the recollection
of every man and woman who had the blessing to be brought up in a real
home where father and mother joined in a sincere effort to bring up
their children to honest, earnest, successful maturity.
I. "We are taxed twice as much by our _Idleness_, three times as much
by our _Pride_ and four times as much by our _Folly_."
II. _Idleness and Industry._
1. "Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears; while the
used key is always bright."
2. "The sleeping fox catches no poultry."
3. "He that lives on hope will die fasting."
4. "Industry need not wish."
5. "Have you somewhat to do tomorrow? Do it today."
6. "Three removes are as bad as a fire."
III. _Folly._
1. "If you would have a faithful servant and one that you like,
serve yourself."
2. "For want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe the
horse was lost; for want of a horse the rider was lost."
3. "A fat kitchen makes a lean will."
4. "What maintains one vice would bring up two children."
5. "Who dainties love shall beggars prove."
6. "At a great pennyworth pause awhile."
7. "Silks and satins, scarlets and velvets put out the kitchen
fire."
IV. _Pride._
1. "Fond pride of dress is, sure, a very curse.
Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse."
2. "Pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with poverty and supped
with infamy."
3. "What is a butterfly? At best
He's but a caterpillar drest."
V. _The Madness of Debt._
1. "You will be ashamed to see your creditor."
2. "Lying rides upon debt's back."
3. "It's hard for an empty bag to stand upright."
4. "Creditors have better memories than debtors."
5. "Those have short Lent who owe money to be paid at Easter."
VI. "Job suffered and was afterward prosperous."
VII. "They that won't be counselled can't be helped."
"If you will not hear reason, she'll surely rap your knuckles."
CHAPTER VI
FATHER AND SON
Properly enough, the responsibility for health and development of young
children rests upon the mother, and in most families this care remains
with her till the children are able to look out for themselves. However,
upon the father devolves more responsibility than the mere providing for
the daily need of his children. Especially is it true that the boys of a
family need the personal influence of the father fully as much as that
of the mother. However patient, wise and devoted a mother may be, there
comes a time in every boy's life when he ought to be under the influence
and subject to the control of a man. _Every boy looks to men for his
models and for a time follows them blindly, in spite of the most careful
training a mother can give._ Curiously enough it is often to a man other
than his father that the boy looks for advice and direction. It is some
other man who influences his thought and through his thought his actions
and the development of his character. Even when the relations between
father and son are of the closest the boy begins to look around him and
often, for no other reason than the novelty of the influence, he falls
under the tutelage of another to whom he gives a confidence that his
father could never secure. As they enter the period of adolescence, boys
will often talk on many subjects with strangers with a freedom that
parents, especially fathers, can never hope to see equalled unless the
most perfect confidence has existed from the earliest childhood. Those
who have taught for many years and who have had growing boys in their
charge know how true this fact is and try to make it of service by
seeing that someone of strong character shall be at hand for the boys to
lean upon. They are impressionable, these men in embryo, and will go to
such lengths for persons they happen to admire and who have secured
their confidence, that those who know tremble when they find evil or
trifling influences gathering about their charges.
Unfortunately in too many cases the parents fail to realize the
importance of this change of relationship and allow children to drift
without any effort to stem the tide that is bearing their progeny away.
Fathers are particularly blind. One would think that they would remember
how it was with themselves in their youth and be guided accordingly. But
as a matter of fact a large majority of the fathers of the land have
forgotten the perils of their own boyhoods; they look upon their own
sons as proof against the temptations they weathered, or as being exempt
because of their better position in life. If these same fathers would
only consider that the temptations come from within and are inseparable
from our race and from the age of the children they would regard with
the greatest concern every influence that is brought to bear upon their
rapidly developing boys.
This is no light matter we are discussing and is one that ought to be
considered seriously by every father. Every teacher, every psychologist
knows that the time comes when a man must lead the changing youth. Who
shall do it? Obviously the father. No man can put aside his
responsibilities in this matter nor can he delegate it to the mother.
She may be the one big factor in the development of her boy's character
and yet there is one time when all her carefully laid plans may go awry,
when for a little while her restraining influence is powerless to save.
No father can, in fairness to the children he has brought into the
world, say that when he has made the home and furnished it, when he has
fed and clothed his wife and children he has done all that he ought to
do. It matters not how difficult a task it has been to find the money to
support his family, nor how hard he has been obliged to work to get the
daily bread; it matters not how tired or how much in need of recreation
he may be when he returns to his home at the close of the day; he finds
his responsibility always facing him. Do not misunderstand the question,
nor the purpose of these lines. This is in no sense a criticism nor is
it a bit of preaching at the hard-working fathers upon whom rest the
hopes of the race. Every true father is willing to give his life if
necessary for his offspring and there is no greater devotion in the
world than that of father to son. But the fact remains that many a busy
man has been so overburdened with the cares of his everyday life that he
has had no time to make himself familiar with even the smallest of his
duties to his family.
Suddenly he becomes conscious that his son is growing away from him,
that the little things that have bound them together have no longer the
strength to hold, that they are drifting apart. Perhaps the father never
has been on intimate terms with his son and has never really known what
his child was thinking about or what his ideas and ideals really were.
When this consciousness comes to the father, when he learns that he is
no longer the one big figure on his son's horizon and that his words
have ceased to be accepted as final on every question, he is startled
and seeks strenuously to regain his position. Difficult will it be. To
regain what has been lost is always difficult; more difficult is it to
displace an influence that is already established. How many, many times
there comes to the earnest teachers the anxious parent with the
oft-repeated statements and questions. "My boy has grown away from me. I
don't know him any more. What I say no longer has any influence with
him. I don't know what to do. How can you help me? He thinks more of
what you say than of what I say and would follow you even if I objected.
What can I do? What advice can you give?" In many instances it is too
late and never again can the father recover the influence he has lost.
On the other hand, it is possible in most cases for the father to
reinstate himself if he proceeds in the right way. That way is never
through command or restraint or discipline. _By only one process can he
succeed, and that is by placing himself in the position of the boy,
learning the boy's tastes and interests and in joining with the boy in
the things the latter likes._ If there has never been much community of
thought between the two, the parent may say in substance or show by his
acts that he has rather neglected the youth because he was too young to
be in sympathy with a man's work and because it was better for the
mother to have the care of her son during his boyhood; but that now he
is old enough to begin to think a man's thoughts and to take an interest
in a man's occupations. Sometimes if this is followed by a real hearty
confidence, if the father takes the boy with him on his business trips,
shows him how the money for the family is made and what are the joys and
compensations of a busy career, the boy's confidence is won, his
interest aroused and a frank comradeship established, new bonds are
created and the father finds a delightful companion, the boy an honored
friend and a worthy leader. Such fathers have said again and again, "I
have found a new and trustworthy friend, a helper whose enthusiasm and
good sense is worth more to me than anything I have had in years; and it
is _my_ boy who is doing it." Unfortunately, most men fail to realize
the power of a boy's mind, the helpfulness of his companionship. His
outlook on life is so fresh and true, his ambition so strong and his
willingness to be taught so refreshing that intimacy with him makes the
adult much stronger and better able to master the annoyances of the day,
and to win the commercial victories upon which subsistence depends.
But at its best this latter-day acquaintanceship is never so strong nor
so helpful as that which begins when the child is an infant and
continues through boyhood to the larger youth and manhood. And it is
easy to win the confidence and respect of the very young, easy to retain
it when won. Yet many a sincere and anxious man fails utterly to earn
that sympathetic companionship which any father may have for the asking,
if the request is made in a way the child can understand and appreciate.
The foundation of it all is a sympathy in the things that children know
and love. _A child lives on a plane of his own. You cannot take him very
far from it nor substitute anything in its place except by the slowest
and most careful management._ There can be no sympathy, no understanding
that is not located on the childish plane. The father must come down
where the child lives, must find his interest in the things that the
child loves and must be sincere in every manifestation of that interest.
Right here is where so many fathers fail. They try to interest the child
in things which the older mind enjoys, and finding themselves unable to
create the artificial atmosphere give up in discouragement and disgust.
Such a course is foolish in the extreme. The older person who knows more
and has had the experiences that are now new to youngsters must go back
into his memories and join in the little things that make up the big
complex of a child's world. Unless you become as little children you can
never enter into the lives of children.
To become young again in a genuine fashion is not permitted to many of
us and we must accordingly seek some common ground where we can meet the
children and be as they are in seeming if not in reality. We may not be
able to play their games with interest and sympathy, or the boys may be
so skilful that we lose standing rather than gain influence by
participation. We may not be able to sympathize with the rivalries of
school or talk intelligently on the sports that make up a large part of
their daily occupation. Where, then, can we meet them and how shall we
put ourselves on an equality with them and at the same time preserve our
leadership?
Such a question is not easy to answer in detail, but many a man has
found a way and a simple one at that. In the first place, play is part
of the life of every child and he has as much right to his fun as any
adult has to the recreation he finds necessary to keep him at the top of
his working power. _Many a child may properly complain that he has had
no childhood_, that all the time he was being repressed and never
allowed to express himself in his own way. He may not realize at the
time that anything is wrong in the treatment that his father gives him,
but the time comes when he will know and understand. Right there is a
fact that every father ought to know and realize so thoroughly that he
will never lose sight of it. _Yes, some time every boy will know just
what kind of a father he has had and just how worthy of respect and
veneration that father has been._ A little boy is credulity itself and
everything tends to make him believe in his father. But as he grows
older he will surely know. Woe be it to the parent who when
disillusionment comes falls below the standard the child has set. Some
time the boy will know. If he has never had the pleasure that was his
due, if he has never had the fun in his home that he had a right to
expect, his estimate of his parent will be appallingly low.
Through play in the home in the evening after the day's work is ended
has many a father laid the foundation for an influence that controlled
when other ties seemed strained to the breaking point. It is in this
playtime that the boy expresses himself most fully. Every animal has its
playtime, and the most savage of the beasts play with their little ones
to educate them to succeed in the struggle for existence. If play is a
natural expression of the child's mind and body, anything that represses
play is a hindrance to development. In the cheery home where to have fun
and lots of it is a daily habit every child grows and matures as
perfectly as a plant where there are just the right amounts of sun and
moisture and where the soil is perfectly adapted to growth. A little
less light, a little less moisture, and the plant will wither and fail.
A little less play and more repression and the child will become morose
and fail to keep pace with his mates. To repress is so easy, to
reconstruct so difficult!
After the play comes the work, but the work may be made as interesting
as the play and may proceed in the same spirit of jollity and freedom
that marked the time given up wholly to amusement. The work is the
second factor in the father's influence--something on the plane of the
child's own mind, not too difficult, not too long continued. Closely
related, too, it must be with things that the child has done and
understands. Some phase of school work may need to be carried on by the
older ones in the family, but the younger boys are free to work with the
father in anything that will stimulate and inspire. What shall the work
be? To every one who has had to do with a large number of children the
answer comes quickly enough. _In reading and conversation will the boy
and his father come most closely together_, in a field that is
attractive to both and where it is as easy to find entertainment and
pleasure as it is to gain information and culture.
Two quotations from men of good judgment come into mind at this point.
Arthur T. Hadley, recently President of Yale University, has said, "Men
in every department of practical life, men in commerce, in
transportation or in manufactures, have told me that what they really
wanted from our college was men who have this selective power of using
books efficiently. The beginnings of knowledge are best learned in any
home fairly well furnished with books." Professor William Mathews has
added, "It is not the number of books which a young man reads that makes
him intelligent and well-informed, but the number of well-chosen ones
that he has mastered so that every valuable thought in them is a
familiar friend."
In those two quotations the ideas of prime importance to every father
are, first, that the beginnings of knowledge are best learned in the
home; and, second, that it is the mastery of what is read that really
counts. In school a child learns to read; at his home he reads to learn.
At school he learns how he ought to read; but it is at his home that he
learns to read in that manner. What a boy does in school is a small part
of the total amount of his reading, and its influence is small indeed.
In home reading, then, reading of the right material in the right way,
is to be found the great influence in education and the great factor in
the building of character.
If such is the case, what more important work can there be for the
father than to read with his son, to watch these beginnings of education
which mean so much more than the mere instruction in school, and to be a
power in developing that right method of reading which means not only
the acquisition of knowledge but also the acquirement of power and the
making of character. The busy man is tired at night and inclined to
think that he has no time to give to reading with his boys. He may
think, too, that reading childish stories is beneath his dignity. Such
is not the case. There is a great abundance of literature that is manly,
and at the same time interesting to a boy. If the father feels that he
is past the time when he has any sympathy with the fairy stories and the
little poems that the infants like, if he thinks the nursery rhymes are
silly and the fables too old to be true, that is because he has not
recently read them. Busy men, men of power and influence, like to renew
their youth by going to the simple things they loved as children, and
not a few of them find that the years have given them new powers of
interpretation and that what was to them at one time only an amusing
tale is now replete with the philosophy of the universe. Yet there may
be fathers of so practical a mind that works of imagination have no hold
upon them. To them, however, the world of literature is by no means
barren. There are history, biography and essays upon a thousand
subjects, any one of which will interest a boy and at the same time his
father. Particularly is this true when the reading is aloud and
interspersed with free conversation upon the subjects that come to the
surface. If the father can only select the right material and read it
with his son there is no question whatever about the interest that will
develop for both. A busy man has little time to select reading; in all
probability he has not had the experience to enable him to do so wisely,
for he has been so absorbed in business that he has forgotten what he
knew best as a boy and is unable to tell just what appealed to him most.
It may be that he never in his youth had the opportunity to read the
best of literature and does not know where to turn to find it. He hears
his little family talking about what they read at school and how they
ought to read and feels himself behind the times and hesitates to make
an exhibition of himself before his children. To any father, a
collection such as that in _Journeys Through Bookland_ is of inestimable
value. When it is considered that in addition to the literary material
there are abundant suggestions as to how interest may be created and how
the reading may be made most profitable, then the set becomes
indispensable. In other words, _Journeys_ contains the material that
must be in every family to make it "fairly well furnished with books,"
and it provides a way of "mastering the books so that every valuable
thought is a familiar friend."
If fathers could be persuaded to spend one evening with their boys in
the reading and discussion of some selection in _Journeys_, they would
not willingly forego the pleasure thereafter. It has happened so many
times that we know this is not an overstatement. Fathers by the score
have written us on the subject. One says, "I have solved the problem of
keeping my boys off the streets, or, rather, _Journeys_ has done it for
me." "I have never spent a happier evening. The boys staid up with me
till after their usual bed time and when they had retired, I read on for
half the night," says another. "I feel young again, and John and I are
great chums. _Reminiscences of a Pioneer_ kept me telling stories long
after we had finished reading the sketch." Who are these fathers?
Clergymen, lawyers, doctors, teachers, we may expect, for they are
somewhat interested in reading, because of their life work. But they are
not the most numerous, by any means. Railroad men, manufacturers,
farmers, men in hundreds of vocations acknowledge the delight of reading
_Journeys_ with their children. Is there anything finer, more wholesome,
more inspiring than the thought of fathers and children reading
together, and together feeling the inspiration that radiates from the
great masterpieces.
But this chapter is not an argument for the purchase of _Journeys_. That
you, father of a growing boy, are reading these lines is evidence that
you have thought well enough of the _Journeys_ idea to place a set of
books in your family. You have done this because you recognized that in
this age of specialists, you, a business man, could not be expected to
select reading matter for your son and assist him in his growth and
development with the same skill as can those who have devoted many years
to that special problem. No attempt is made to advise you on the conduct
of your business or to direct the management and control of your son.
But a sincere effort has been made to help you to join with your boy in
that hearty sympathy which will make him happier, better and more of a
man; which will make you young again and add to your pleasure without
increasing your burdens. What we want is to make the books most
effective, to help them be the power for good that we know they can be,
and more than anything else, to make them a living bond between father
and son. So let us examine the books together with these thoughts in
mind and see if we cannot find just the things that will arouse your
enthusiasm and make you young again, an equal and a friend who can lead
your boy where you want him to go and where he will gladly follow you.
For instance, there is in the sixth volume that kindly humorous account
of a boyhood in Wisconsin in the early part of the last century,
_Reminiscences of a Pioneer_ (Volume V, 340). Every man will be
interested in it, and he cannot read it aloud to a boy of seven without
catching the attention of the child. Even a lad of sixteen will get into
the spirit of the thing, although it may not be the same incidents that
will attract him. Think of the contrast between that humble log cabin
with its visiting Indians and the luxurious steam-heated flat of your
son, or the farm house with all modern conveniences that a friend of
yours may have in the very region where our little friend was frightened
more by the strange Dutch immigrants than he was by the red men whom he
saw every day. Think of a six or seven year old boy that had never seen
an apple and who could enjoy chokecherries and crab apples, even though
he couldn't get his face back into line on the same day in which he ate
them fresh from the tree. Think of offering raw turnips to the guests
and of people coming twenty miles to get a small piece of salt pork,
because they were so tired of fresh meat and fish. Think that these
things happened less than a hundred years ago and within forty miles of
the now big and flourishing city of Milwaukee. What lessons there are in
courage, skill, self-reliance and contentment in the lives of these
early pioneers, especially the devoted mother who kept her yeast alive
so many years, and stood off the Indians with one hand while she tended
to her increasing family with the other. Can you imagine a boy who
wouldn't be interested in the sturdy youngster who earned and refused
his first quarter of a dollar for paddling a man across the river in a
heavy dugout? Don't you think your son will have a host of questions to
ask about it all and that you will be glad to talk to him about the
Indians he likes to imitate when he plays? Can't you see that reading
such as this is worth while and that every moment spent in this way is
an investment for yourself in the boy's confidence and good graces?
Other selections of a somewhat similar nature, all of which will appeal
to boys at the time when Indians and adventure are of more interest than
anything else, are the following:
_The Arickara Indians_, Volume IV, page 472.
_The Buccaneers_, Volume V, page 359.
_Captain Morgan at Maracaibo_, Volume V, page 365.
_Ringrose and His Buccaneers_, Volume VIII, page 1.
_David Crockett in the Creek War_, Volume VIII, page 37.
_Braddock's Defeat_, Volume V, page 379.
_The Capture of Vincennes_, Volume VI, page 428.
_The Black Hawk Tragedy_, Volume VII, page 58.
_Père Marquette_, Volume VIII, page 121.
_George Rogers Clark_, Volume VI, page 422.
Have no fear that the boy's love for Indians and adventure is a thing to
suppress. It is an evidence of growth and of development. You know every
boy lives over in himself the history of his race, and as there was a
time when the life of mankind was a struggle with physical difficulties
and personal danger so there is a time when every boy feels within
himself the admiration for brave deeds and the desire to fight and
conquer. Your province it is to meet him on that ground, enjoy with him
the tales of lofty daring and physical prowess, the tales of stirring
adventure and narrow escapes, and to lead him gently with you into the
fields of history where achievements in science, commerce and
engineering take the place of battles with wild animals and wilder
Indians.
Don't feel that you have not the time to do the things recommended. We
can always find the time to do the things we like to do, and this means
of joining in the thoughts of your boy will be one of the things you
will most enjoy when you have once accustomed yourself to it.
We get out of reading just what we put into it. That is to say, the same
selection read by different people will have just as many meanings as
there are people reading it. By assistance, a person may be caused to
see more in what he reads and in time may approximate the full
understanding of his teacher. But it is unwise and useless to expect a
child to read with the same appreciation that an adult has. Accordingly
the father, if he is wise, will be satisfied when his boy is really
interested in a thoroughly good selection if he sees at the same time
that the boy is setting about his interpretation in the right way. To
illustrate: If you are reading about a storm at sea and you are a
survivor of a shipwreck in such a storm, your appreciation of the
description will be infinitely more vivid than that of your son, who has
not even seen the sea. All that you can do is to give him some idea of
the power of the waves, make him feel that the sight is a thrilling one
and that there is imminent danger to life and property in the storm.
Some time he will have the experience to interpret and then his mind
will recur to the description and he will understand it somewhat as you
do now. This brings us to think for a moment on the permanent value of
all that is read. _The mind holds things in abeyance, brings them out to
the light now and then, and each time finds them more and more
intelligible and influential._ Many a maxim learned in youth when an
understanding of it was impossible becomes a power for good for the
person in later years when its inner significance appears.
Some poetry will appeal to boys, even though they may look askance at
most of it. Some lyrics are virile and powerful, well worthy the study
of the keenest minds. There is an unfounded prejudice against poetry in
many men because of the fancied puerility of it and its silly sentiment.
Such a prejudice always disappears if the person reads enough and
selects the things that are worthy of study. Narrative poems are more
likely to appeal to men and boys than the lyrics. When the narrative is
a stirring one and the action dramatic, the poetic form adds decidedly
to its interest and effectiveness. Take, for instance, that little poem
by Robert Browning that is known as _Incident of the French Camp_
(Volume IV, page 174). No man can read it without being stirred by it,
and its appeal to boys is immediate and strong. But strong as it is, the
whole influence of it may be intensified if it is discussed in the
manner indicated on the pages immediately after the poem. What we would
have you do is to read the little epic with your boy and talk it over
with him along the lines of the comments given. It will not be necessary
for you to point the moral. He will see it for himself, but if you can
show a little enthusiasm and delight in the incident he will go away
feeling better toward you and will be a convert to poetry, at least to
some kinds of it. Later in life the lesson will come back to him and he
will seek for more of the same sort.
There are a great number of poems of similar import in the books. Any
one of the following will be capital for reading aloud with your boy.
Try them and be convinced.
_Beth Gelert_, Volume III, page 42.
_Sheridan's Ride_, Volume IV, page 223.
_Bernardo Del Carpio_, Volume IV, page 270.
_The Wooden Horse_, Volume IV, page 383.
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_, Volume IV, page 461.
_Bruce and the Spider_, Volume V, page 314.
_How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_, Volume V, page 335.
_Sohrab and Rustum_, Volume VI, page 173.
_How's My Boy?_ Volume VII, page 169.
_The Battle of Ivry_, Volume VIII, page 76.
_Hervé Riel_, Volume VII, page 168.
Any one of the national anthems or patriotic poems is fine reading and a
source for many a kindly talk that will tend to make a better citizen of
your son and perhaps give you a fresher and truer conception of your own
duties and responsibilities to the government. These you may readily
find from the index in the tenth volume, under the title, _Patriotic
Poems_.
For older boys there are plenty of good selections, and the discussion
of some of them must help to bring nearer to the lad his increasing
responsibilities. A normal boy of sixteen has a lot of the man in him
and wants to be treated as a man, at least to have his ideas, hopes and
ambitions given some consideration. He does not want always to be called
"Bobby" or "Jimmy" or "Tommy." He likes better to be called "Smith,"
"Jones," or "Robinson," or whatever his last name is. He is tired of
being told to do this and that and would like to join in some of the
family councils and feel that father is beginning to see the man and
forget the "kid." He will be interested in anything that relates to
commerce, or manufacture or government if it is presented to him in such
a way that he can "be somebody" in the discussion.
It is easy to interest boys in speaking, in orations, in debates. In
_Journeys_ (Volume IX, page 321) is printed the _Gettysburg Address_ by
Abraham Lincoln. It is the one great, masterly American address, noted
not only for its perfect construction, but for its sentiment, its power
and its brevity. In no other great address are all these elements
combined. Tested by any standard it rings true in thought and is perfect
in form. It is worth while to commit it to memory, and father and son
should be equally interested in the task, if it can be called a task.
Preceding the address is a note giving its historical setting, and
following it is an analysis of the thought and a series of questions
tending to give the thought a more personal application. _The Fate of
the Indians_ and _A Call to Arms_, both in Volume IX, are good orations
accompanied by studies.
An essay that is in effect almost an oration is the extract from the
_Impeachment of Warren Hastings_ by Macaulay (Volume IX, page 32), and
in this volume are studies on that essay (page 248).
_The Boston Massacre_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne is a pleasing bit of
history which in this volume (page 370) is used as the basis of a study
in argument. You may prefer to read the studies first and arrange the
arguments for your sons or for yourself and your boy. It is surprising
into what different directions the argument will lead you and how many
interesting questions will arise which will make good subjects for
discussion. To make conversation worth while there is needed only
something interesting to talk about. To be a good talker is worth a
great deal to any young man and there is no better way to give him this
power than by conversing freely with him while he is young.
Moral instruction is difficult. A thousand little things tend to
neutralize it and there is an almost universal spirit of opposition to
moral teaching, on the part of youth. And yet it is easy to give moral
lessons in an indirect way that shall arouse no opposition and that
shall be effective for lifetime. _Journeys_ is full of what for lack of
a better name we call character-building literature. Some of it is
adapted to boys and girls of a very tender age and more of it to the
older children. _The Cubes of Truth_ (Volume VI, page 406), by Oliver
Wendell Holmes, is a beautiful little essay that expresses a great truth
in a way to impress it indelibly upon the memory of every person who
reads it. So clear is the language, so clever the idea that the
selection is read with absorbing interest, and so impressive is the
lesson that no real attention need be called to it. In reading it the
beauty of the language and the quaintness of the figure are the real
subjects of discussion, but all the time the great lesson is making its
subtle appeal. Cardinal Newman's _Definition of a Gentleman_ (Volume IV,
page 170) is more obviously a didactic selection, but here again the
definition is given so clearly and so forcibly that no possible offense
can be taken and the weight of the statements will produce their effect
without much comment.
In this connection it should be necessary merely to call attention to
the chapter on character-building, to be found in this volume. In
preparing that chapter the writer had in mind children of all ages and
both sexes, but it will be an easy matter for you to select the things
which you know will appeal to your son.
In fact, you will find in every chapter of this volume something to help
you in making your way into the thoughts and the hearts of your family,
and we know that as the years pass away and manhood comes to your boys
they will look back upon the hours spent in reading with you as the most
momentous of their lives. Do you want your son to say in his manhood, "I
look upon Mr. A or Mr. B as the person who most influenced my life"? Do
you want him to say, "I might have been a cultured man with a wide range
of interests if my father had given to me a little of the time he spent
at his club"? Do you want your boy to think that he was a wanderer from
home, because he could not find in that home the manly sympathy that his
soul craved? In many a family there is no trouble in keeping the boys
off the streets. There is no place half so attractive as the home and
for them no inclination to seek among others the fun and intellectual
stimulus they crave as they crave their food.
Usually the reading habit must be formed early or not at all. A man in
middle life will not acquire the habit easily unless there is some
stimulus which keeps him reading for a time, in spite of himself. In the
active minds of his boys he may find just that stimulus, and in his
declining years when time weighs heavily upon his hands and great
activities are denied him he will find in his later acquirement an
unfailing source of enjoyment. In such hours will come to recollection
the days he spent with his boys and his heart will fill with joy that he
did not neglect his rich opportunities.
CHAPTER VII
MEMORIZING
Whenever children are interested in any selection, it is well to
encourage them to commit it to memory, if it be brief, or if they find
in it phrases or sentences which seem to them beautiful or filled with
meaning. If, however, the young people are driven to memorizing
selections of any kind, the practice is of little value, and it is
likely to create a prejudice against the very things for which they
should feel admiration. By a show of interest, however, the parents may,
without difficulty, lead the children to learn a great deal of the best
literature, and thus not only strengthen their knowledge but improve
their style of writing as well, for unconsciously the young will follow
the style of those whom they admire. Moreover, it frequently happens
that some of the inspiring thoughts which children have learned become
rules of action to them in after life. If the practice is begun early
enough children will form the habit of learning those things which they
like, and such a habit is of greatest value. In many schools, during
certain years, the learning of "memory gems" is a daily practice; it
should be no less a practice at home.
Some of the many things in these books which may well be learned in
their entirety are the following:
Volume I, page 66. _A Thought._
Volume I, page 67. _The Swing._
Volume I, page 83. _Singing._
Volume I, page 110. _Rain._
Volume I, page 133. _Little Blue Pigeon._
Volume I, page 144. _The Land of Counterpane._
Volume I, page 204. _Sleep, Baby, Sleep._
Volume I, page 246. _Norse Lullaby._
Volume I, page 262. _Wynken, Blynken and Nod._
Volume I, page 339. _The Owl and the Pussy Cat._
Volume I, page 340. _Time to Rise._
Volume I, page 410. _The Reaper and the Flowers._
Volume II, page 11. _The Baby._
Volume II, page 32. _Lullaby._
Volume II, page 123. _Windy Nights._
Volume II, page 121. _Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks._
Volume II, page 87. _Picture Books in Winter._
Volume II, page 119. _Seven Times One._
Volume II, page 403. _The First Snowfall._
Volume II, page 481. _In Time's Swing._
Volume III, page 347. _Barbara Frietchie._
Volume IV, page 82. _Footsteps of Angels._
Volume IV, page 126. _Nearer Home._
Volume IV, page 127. _Pictures of Memory._
Volume V, page 396. _The American Flag._
Volume V, page 399. _Battle Hymn of the Republic._
Volume VI, page 119. _Annie Laurie._
Volume VI, page 122. _Sweet and Low._
Volume VI, page 133. _The Bugle Song._
Volume VII, page 1. _The Daffodils._
Volume VII, page 4. _To the Fringed Gentian._
Volume VII, page 340. _Those Evening Bells._
Volume VII, page 395. _To a Waterfowl._
While usually it is better to allow each person to learn the lines that
most appeal to him, yet some help should be given children. No two
people will select all of the same things, though probably all would
agree on some few things as being of the highest excellence. Some lines
should be learned because of their beauty in description, others because
of beauty in phraseology, and still others because of beauty in
sentiment. Search should be made, too, for those things which are
inspirational, and which will be strong aids in the building of
character.
We append a few pages of quotations taken at random from the volumes.
They will prove handy when the parent or teacher is pressed for time,
and the references to volume and page will enable the busy person
readily to find the context, if that seems desirable.
The quotations below are arranged in the order of their appearance in
_Journeys Through Bookland_. This will enable anyone to locate them
easily. The lines cover a wide range of thought and will furnish an
endless variety of material for stories, comment, question and
conversation. Some of them cannot be appreciated without a knowledge of
their setting in the original poem or prose selection, while others are
complete and perfect as they stand.
One of the best ways to teach a poem or selection is to begin by
creating an interest in a quotation from it. For instance, "Write me as
one who loves his fellow men," will lead the way to an acquaintance with
the old favorite _Abou Ben Adhem_. In fact, only after the poem has been
read and appreciated will a person get the full force of the idea,
"Write me as one who loves his fellow men."
_One Hundred Choice Quotations_
(Volume I)
Early to bed, and early to rise,
Is the way to be healthy, wealthy and wise. --Page 48.
Had it not been for your buzz I should not even have known you were
there. --Page 70.
The Rock-a-by Lady from Hushaby street,
With poppies that hang from her head to her feet. --Page 94.
I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky's blue looking-glass. --Page 130.
In through the window a moonbeam comes,
Little gold moonbeam with misty wings. --Page 133.
Oh, the world's running over with joy. --Page 147.
The honorable gentleman has not told us who is to hang the bell around
the Cat's neck. --Page 197.
Here is the mill with the humming of thunder,
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam,
Here is the sluice with the race running under--
Marvelous places, though handy to home. --Page 349.
Then she smooths the eyelids down
Over those two eyes of brown--
In such soothing, tender wise
Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. --Page 367.
One must be content with the good one has enjoyed. --Page 379.
Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away. --Page 411.
It matters nothing if one is born in a duck yard, if one can only be
hatched from a swan's egg. --Page 427.
(Volume II)
Did you ever hear of a bird in a cage, that promised to stay in it?
--Page 2.
The very violets in their bed
Fold up their eyelids blue. --Page 32.
Rejoice in thy youth, rejoice in thy fresh growth, and in the young life
that is within thee. --Page 70.
You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot--
You can love and think, and the Earth cannot. --Page 67.
Thank him for his lesson's sake,
Thank God's gentle minstrel there,
Who, when storms make others quake,
Sings of days that brighter were. --Page 214.
You must expect to be beat a few times in your life, little man, if you
live such a life as a man ought to live. --Page 242.
Those that wish to be clean, clean they will be. --Page 247.
Reckon not on your chickens before they are hatched. --Page 376.
He saw the rocks of the mountain tops all crimson and purple with the
sunset; and there were bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and
quivering about them; and the river, brighter than all, fell, in a
wavering column of pure gold, from precipice to precipice, with the
double arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing and
fading alternately in the wreaths of spray. --Page 420.
(Volume III)
In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss. --Page 96.
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law. --Page 349.
Lips where smiles went out and in. --Page 386.
All the little boys and girls,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls. --Page 391.
(Volume IV)
Prince thou art,--the grown up man
Only is republican. --Page 3.
O'er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold. --Page 6.
Now in memory comes my mother,
As she was long years agone,
To regard the darling dreamers
Ere she left them till the dawn. --Page 8.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles. --Page 60.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever. --Page 61.
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man. --Page 86.
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes may be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought. --Page 88.
And when the arrows of sunset
Lodged in the tree-tops bright,
He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
Asleep by the gates of light. --Page 129.
Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent,
Or aught thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent. --Page 173.
And there through the flash of the morning light,
A steed as black as the steeds of night,
Was seen to pass as with eagle flight. --Page 224.
Noiselessly as the springtime
Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves. --Page 267.
Who dies in youth and vigor, dies the best,
Struck through with wounds, all honest, on the breast. --Page 369.
(Volume V)
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path, but now
Lead thou me on;
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years. --Page 111.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. --Page 112.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man. --Page 112.
the knotted column of his throat,
The massive square of his heroic breast,
And arms on which the standing muscle sloped,
As slopes a wild brook o'er a little stone,
Running too vehemently to break it. --Page 150.
Ye think the rustic cackle of your bourg
The murmur of the world! --Page 156.
For man is man and master of his fate. --Page 158.
Perseverance gains its meed
And Patience wins the race. --Page 316.
Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us? --Page 398.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat;
O, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on. --Page 399.
Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off!
"Old Blue-Light's" going to pray.
Strangle the foe that dares to scoff!
Attention! It's his way. --Page 401.
(Volume VI)
To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods. --Page 8.
When by my bed I saw my mother kneel,
And with her blessing took her nightly kiss;
Whatever Time destroys, he cannot this;--
E'en now that nameless kiss I feel. --Page 122.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea;
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. --Page 122.
Sublime words make not a man holy and righteous, but it is a virtuous
life that maketh him dear to God. --Page 134.
Who hath a stronger battle than he that useth force to overcome himself?
This should be our occupation, to overcome ourselves and every day to be
stronger and somewhat holier. --Page 136.
And the sheen on their spears was like stars on the sea,
Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. --Page 142.
Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy
people shall be my people and thy God my God. --Page 144.
For we are all, like swimmers in the sea,
Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate,
Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall. --Page 186.
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. --Page 224.
"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim. --Page 309.
All hail'd, with uncontroll'd delight
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of Salvation down. --Page 357.
The short and simple annals of the poor. --Page 363.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave. --Page 363.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air. --Page 365.
Along the cool, sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. --Page 366.
He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend. --Page 368.
Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears; while the used key
is always bright. --Page 410.
He that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his
business at night; while laziness travels so slowly that poverty soon
overtakes him. --Page 410.
Have you somewhat to do tomorrow? Do it today. --Page 412.
For want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe the horse was
lost; and for want of a horse the rider was lost. --Page 414.
Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship.
--Page 415.
'Tis foolish to lay out money in the purchase of repentance.
--Page 416.
Fools make feasts and wise men eat them. --Page 415.
'Tis hard for an empty bag to stand upright! --Page 418.
Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other.
--Page 420.
(Volume VII)
That inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude. --Page 1.
Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky. --Page 5.
The bonny lark, companion meet,
Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet
Wi' spreckled breast,
When upward springing, blithe to greet
The purpling east. --Page 8.
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small. --Page 57.
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that! --Page 149.
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung. --Page 151.
Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget! --Page 164.
The remarkably adult yet innocent expression of their open and serene
eyes is very memorable. All intelligence seems reflected in them. They
suggest not merely the purity of infancy, but a wisdom clarified by
experience. Such an eye was not born when the bird was, but is coeval
with the sky it reflects. The woods do not yield such another gem.
--Page 263.
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass. --Page 278.
Imagine a stream seventy yards broad divided by a pebbly island, running
over seductive riffles and swirling into deep, quiet pools where the
good salmon goes to smoke his pipe after his meals. --Page 287.
I once had a sparrow alight on my shoulder for a moment while I was
hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by
that circumstance than I should have been by any epaulet I could have
worn. --Page 299.
And while in life's late afternoon
Where cool and long the shadows grow,
I walk to meet the night that soon
Shall shape and darkness overflow,
I cannot feel that thou art far,
Since near at hand the angels are;
And when the sunset gates unbar,
Shall I not see thee waiting stand,
And, white against the evening star,
The welcome of thy beckoning hand? --Page 389.
He who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
Will lead my steps aright. --Page 397.
(Volume VIII)
Go tell the Spartans, thou that passeth by,
That here, obedient to their laws, we lie. --Page 90.
Thermopylae had her messenger of defeat:
The Alamo had none. --Page 152.
England expects every man to do his duty. --Page 297.
An' Oh! be sure to fear the Lord alway!
An' mind your duty, duly, morn and night! --Page 322.
They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright. --Page 322.
The best acid is assiduity. --Page 332.
(Volume IX)
Write me as one who loves his fellow men. --Page 11.
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
--Page 145.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once. --Page 145.
_Et tu Brute!_ Then fall, Cæsar. --Page 154.
Surely man is but a shadow, and life a dream. --Page 286.
All service ranks the same with God. --Page 301.
The year's at the spring,
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled:
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in his heaven--
All's right with the world. --Page 303.
For what are the voices of birds--
Ay, and of beasts--but words, our words,
Only so much more sweet? --Page 314.
I will pass each, and see their happiness,
And envy none--being just as great, no doubt,
Useful to men, dear to God as they! --Page 317.
CHAPTER VIII
HOW TO READ FICTION
1. _Different Kinds of Literature_
If there were but one kind of literature, it would be an easy matter to
give the few directions that would be necessary to make good readers. In
reality there are, however, several types, so different in their
purpose, style and content that the reader must study them in many
different ways if he would get the varied and inspiring messages. To
appreciate what this means, let us look over the field.
For our purposes, as has been said, true literature, as distinguished
from the practical literature of fact, may be grouped under the two
general heads of poetry and prose. At first thought the difference
between the two seems wide and unmistakable. Poetry differs from prose
not only in form, but also in rhythm, music, beauty and sentiment. The
former is usually more figurative, and aims to stimulate the imagination
more keenly and to enthral the feelings more completely. Upon a closer
consideration it is seen that poetry and good prose have much in common,
and that often it is really but a question of form, for lyric beauty
glows in the phrases of our finest prose, and both heart and soul are
moved by its powerful appeals.
There are narratives and arguments in both poetry and prose, and essays
in the form of both. For this reason our general method of study may be
the same for both, except when form alone is considered.
The simplest and most universal form of literature is found in the
catchy little nursery rhymes which the children of the nation learn at
their cradles from the lips of their elders. In these, if careful search
be made, may be found most of the elements which in broader and more
complex forms appear in the favorite selections of maturer years.
Following the nursery rhymes appear the fables, fairy tales, myths and
legends that have formed the literature of earlier races and have come
down to us to be amplified and placed in modern form for the children of
this age.
It has been said that in every child is seen the history of the race,
and that from infancy to manhood he typifies every stage of progress the
race has seen. In early years he loves the fables where animals speak,
feel and act like human beings; for in former times mankind believed the
fables to be truth. A child peoples his world with fairies, good and
bad, and believes in the limitless power of magic. A little later he
loves the deeds of the legendary heroes and revels in the marvelous acts
of the more than human beings in whom the ancients believed. Later the
stirring adventures of the real heroes of discovery and exploration, the
heroic exploits of warriors on land and sea, and the courageous acts of
noble men and women in every walk in life appeal to him; while still
later, real history seizes the imagination of the youth, who now looks
for the causes of things and learns to trace out their effects. He
learns to reason and to separate truth from falsehood. Casting aside
the wild tales of boyhood, he gathers up instead the facts of life and
experience, and draws his inspiration from the noble works of the
world's greatest writers.
2. _Reading Stories_
In the development of literary taste, fiction plays as prominent a part
as fact, and to fiction, considered in its broadest sense, every child
is deeply indebted. Many err in thinking that a stern diet of facts is
the only nutriment the child mind needs, and still others err only in a
less degree when they look upon fiction as perhaps a necessary evil, but
one which must be avoided as much as possible and set aside at the
earliest possible moment. All fiction has in it some elements of truth,
and they are the sources of the inspiration which comes to children
when, in their world of make-believe, they live with their beautiful and
heroic friends of the story books.
To read fiction properly is to get from it the truth, which, however, is
often liable to be lost by the reader in the excitement of the tale, or
to pass undetected in the easy-running sentences. As fictitious
narratives in prose and poetry in the great majority of cases form the
larger part of children's reading, it is to them we should turn our
attention. Before we begin their specific study a few principles claim
our attention:
Good stories are the most helpful things a child can read.
The more intelligently and sympathetically a story is read, the more
powerful for good it is.
The imagination of a child is the most powerful agent in the development
of his mind.
The imagination acts only to combine, enlarge, or diminish ideas that
enter the mind. It never creates.
On the nature of the ideas presented will depend the character of the
imagination.
A vivid imagination fed with bad ideas is most destructive to human
character. Good stories with high ideals can do no harm: but evil
stories, particularly if attractive and entertaining, will undo the
careful teaching of years.
As evil must appear in life, it may appear in stories, but it must be
brought in in such a way that it is known as evil, and children must be
taught to recognize it as evil.
The motives which govern the words and actions of the persons who appear
in a well-written story are more easily discerned than the motives which
actuate the human beings around us. Thus a child who reads intelligently
is helped to discover in the words and deeds of the people whom he meets
the elements of real character. A study of the heroes of fiction is a
study in human life.
Improbable stories and those presenting impossible or unreal things are
not necessarily bad; in fact they are often good and distinctly
serviceable. No matter how true they appear to a child, the time comes
when he rejects them as impossible, although he may always be indebted
to them for keen pleasure and the awakening of his imagination. Belief
in the myth of Santa Claus never destroyed a child's love and respect
for his parents; faith in the unlimited power of good fairies never
made a child less able to recognize the laws of nature. It is the
halfway truths that are troublesome; it is the little misrepresentations
not liable to be detected that may permanently deceive.
To understand the good and the true, to discriminate between the bad and
the false, to find pleasure that shall awaken, enliven and inspire, to
arouse curiosity and interest in wider, more thoughtful and helpful
study, are some of the important aims of story-reading.
Purposeful reading on the part of children may be brought about by
direct instruction from parent or teacher or it may be acquired by the
child through his own efforts. Manifestly the former is the really
efficient way and its efficiency may be increased if it is carried on
systematically. The following outline will assist those who have
children in charge to do their part easily and in the best manner.
In reading any story there are several things to be considered if one is
to get the most out of it. These things are mentioned in natural order
in the outline, each item of which will be treated at length in the
pages immediately following.
In reading stories consider:
Primarily,
A. The Plot.
B. The Persons.
C. The Scenes.
Secondarily,
D. The Lesson.
E. The Author's Purpose.
F. The Method and Style of the Author.
G. Emotional Power.
In the volumes of _Journeys Through Bookland_, intended as they are for
reading by children, it was not thought wise to make the studies
extensive nor to attach much comment to the selections, lest the young
readers weary of the task or neglect it entirely. In this volume a
different case confronts us and we put the discussions on a higher
plane. If these suggestions are used in the instruction of children,
some care in adaptation will be necessary. The age and sex of the
children, their advancement in their studies, their surroundings at home
and in school, will all need to be taken into account in determining
what selections to use and how far to carry the method. A good general
principle to follow is to present to the children only so much as will
hold their interest; present it in the manner that will best retain
their interest, and change the subject or the method when interest
flags.
Speaking in general terms, children are most interested in that of which
they already know something, and prefer to study intensively something
which is "easy to read." The familiar selections of old readers often
are found to be alive with interest, if studied by a new method. A
method is understood most easily when it is applied to a simple subject;
in this case, to a story in which the youngest children will be
interested. A word of caution may be worth while: Especially with young
children,--"Do not let the method be seen; it is the _story_ that is to
be brought out."
It is evident that the Plot, the Persons and the Scenes of the story
will interest children of all ages; that all will be benefited by the
Lesson if it is judiciously presented; but that only the older
children can be interested to any great extent in the Author's
Purpose, Method or Style or in the study of the Emotional Power of the
selection, however much it may be felt.
[Illustration: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN
HENRY DAVID THOREAU
JULIA WARD HOWE
PATRICK HENRY
WILLIAM PRESCOTT
FRANCIS PARKMAN
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER]
A. The Plot
The main line of events leading up to the climax of interest in the
story may be called the plot.
It is the plot that furnishes excitement, and for perhaps the majority
of readers constitutes the chief interest. In some stories the plot lies
upon the surface all the time, and everything is made subservient to the
purpose of holding interest, keeping up excitement and mystifying the
reader until the climax is reached. Thrilling detective stories of the
poorer class, exciting love stories and the cheap juvenile tales of
Indian fighting, with heroines in dire distress and heroes struggling to
rescue them, are illustrations of this type. No effort is made by the
author to make real human beings of his characters, and little or no
profit comes to the reader, while infinite harm may be done to minds
craving excitement and finding in it nothing to stimulate an interest in
better things.
In the better stories of greater writers the plot still plays an
important part, but while it sustains interest unflaggingly, it carries
with it other things which are of vastly greater importance. In such
stories the persons are living, breathing realities, and the reader
feels that he has added permanently to his list of tried and true
friends. Tom Brown and Tiny Tim, who live only in stories, are as much
our friends as Henry Thompson and Rudolph De Peyster who live in the
next block. The great writer, moreover, takes us with him into new
places, among new scenes, so that Rugby becomes for a time our own
school, and from Tim's poor hearth there enters a warm Christmas glow
into our doubting hearts. Although the plot is important, yet all
stories that enthral the mind with exciting incidents must be regarded
with suspicion until they prove their right to be considered real
literature by furnishing higher interests or greater inspiration.
To analyze the plot of a story, however, is always helpful; to arrange
the incidents in order, to determine which are necessary to the
development of the story, and which are merely contributory to the
general interest, is an interesting and stimulating thing. The plot of
short stories may quite often be told in few words, and unless very
complicated, the plot of a novel may be given in a few sentences. In
some stories, however, the plot is so loosely constructed and of so
little real importance that it is hardly more than a train of apparently
equally important incidents. Again, the plot is oftentimes so
complicated by secondary plots and incidents that even a careful reader
becomes confused and loses his interest.
Let us consider the plot in such a story as _Cinderella_ (Volume I, page
224). The main incidents of the plot arrange themselves as follows:
1. Cinderella's mother dies.
2. Her father marries a widow, who has two daughters.
3. The stepmother sends Cinderella to the kitchen to work and to the
garret to sleep.
4. The king's son gives a great ball to which he invites Cinderella's
stepsisters.
5. The stepsisters require Cinderella to assist them to dress, and abuse
her shamefully.
6. The sisters go to the ball, and Cinderella sits by the kitchen fire
wishing she might accompany them.
7. Her fairy godmother appears and sends her to the ball in fine style.
8. Cinderella, beautiful as a picture, dances with the prince, who falls
in love with her.
9. The clock strikes twelve, and Cinderella goes back to the kitchen.
10. The stepsisters again mistreat Cinderella.
11. She goes to the ball the second day.
12. She forgets her godmother's warning, and after midnight rushes back
home, leaving a single slipper behind her.
13. The prince finds the slipper and searches for its owner.
14. The sisters fail in trying on the slipper, which is then fitted to
Cinderella's foot.
15. The fairy godmother restores to Cinderella the appearance of a
princess.
16. The prince marries Cinderella, and she forgives her stepsisters.
A summary of these main incidents may be given in a few words, which
will contain the skeleton of the plot. To say that a certain little girl
who is shamefully treated by her stepsisters is aided by her fairy
godmother to attend a ball given by a prince, who finally marries the
little drudge, is to give the plot and really to tell all that the lax
and superficial reader gets from the story he peruses.
There are in this little story, however, a large number of minor
incidents which contribute to the interest, and if sought and placed in
their relation to the main events will be found to have added materially
to the charm of the narrative.
For instance, when the fairy godmother sends Cinderella to the ball for
the first time, children are led to a vivid interest in the event by a
series of fascinating incidents, as follows:
1. The fairy sends her into the garden for a pumpkin.
2. The godmother, scooping out the inside of the pumpkin, leaves the
rind, which she taps three times, and immediately it becomes a golden
coach.
3. The fairy spies six mice alive in a trap.
4. Cinderella lets the mice out gently, and as the fairy touches them
with her wand, each becomes a fine, dapple-gray horse.
5. Cinderella brings the rats, the largest of which the fairy converts
into a handsome postilion with a fine pair of whiskers.
6. Cinderella finds the six lizards behind the watering pot, which
become the six sedate and dignified footmen clothed in livery.
7. Cinderella's rags are changed to wonderful clothing bedecked with
costly jewels.
8. The beautiful glass slippers are provided.
How real these incidents all seem! What art is shown in bringing in real
things to give food to the imagination and to stimulate the interest
that carries the little reader away from herself where she may riot in
the wonders her active mind can so readily conceive. Some time when she
has grown much older, and cares have wrinkled her smooth cheeks, she
may see that the only fairy godmother who can clothe a Cinderella is
hard work, and that mice become dapple-grays, and footmen are made from
lizards behind watering pots only when she has earned the right to them
herself. Just now it is enough for her to see that fairy godmothers come
to good children only, and that good princes do not care if their wives
have worked in the cinders, provided they are beautiful in gentleness
and service to others.
Children like to understand what they read, and are never so happy as
when talking over their favorite stories with those of their elders who
have the power to enter sympathetically into the child world. By no
means do all boys and girls like to be taught; in fact there are not
many more certain ways of prejudicing a child against anything than by
making it the subject of a formal lesson. Still, every child loves to
learn, and is seeking at every moment to add to his information and to
exercise his mind. Yet he must do it in his own way and with the things
in which he is interested. If those facts are borne in mind, no parent
will have difficulty in interesting his child or in leading the juvenile
mind where it ought to go.
To apply these ideas to teaching the plot of such a story as
_Cinderella_, let the parent who loves his children, and who wishes to
be no stranger to their interests, joys and sorrows, seat himself among
them some time and begin to read to them. Pausing now and then to
explain some word whose meaning may be obscure to them, or to comment on
some phase of the story that may be of special interest, let him read
on to the end without attempting to do much more than to make the story
a vivid tale where the interest centers in the incident.
When the story has ended, the pleasure has but just begun. Children like
to ask questions, but they are no less ready to answer them if the
questions are on things of interest, are related to the things which
children know and are put in such a way that the genuine interest of the
questioner is always evident. The I-know-it-all-and-you-know-nothing
style of questioning; the I'm-the-master-and-you're-the-pupil style; the
because-I-ask-you-must-answer style are all fatal to interest, and will
soon prevent that hearty sympathy and living spirit of coöperation that
the parent wishes to secure.
If we suppose it is _Cinderella_ that has been read, we may begin our
questioning in this manner:
"That's a good story. I like it, don't you?--It is rather long, though;
I've almost forgotten how it began.--O, was that the first thing that
happened?--Was the father a rich man?--Did the story say he was rich or
did you just think he was?--If he had not married a widow could things
have happened as they did?--How did the widow and her daughters treat
Cinderella?--If Cinderella had not been mistreated would her fairy
godmother have come to her aid?--If the fairy had not appeared could the
story have been the same?--How did the fairy make the golden
coach?--Could she have made it out of anything else?--If she had made
one just as good out of something else, could Cinderella have gone to
the ball just as well?--If Cinderella went to the ball in good style did
it matter how she went?--If Cinderella had not gone to the ball, could
she have met the prince?--Was it as important then that she should have
a coach made from a pumpkin as that she should go to the ball and meet
the prince?--Can you think of something else just as necessary to make
the story come out right as that Cinderella should go to the ball?--Can
you think of other things that must have happened just as they did to
make the story come out right and just as it did?--Can you think of some
things that might have happened differently and still not have hurt the
story at all?--Let us put together all the things that must have
happened to make the story right and leave out the things that could be
changed. Now, what are they?--Now let us find a few things we could
leave out or change. What are some of them?--If we left them out the
story would come out the same, but would it be as good, as
interesting?--Would you like Cinderella as well if these little things
had been left out?--Would you think as much of the prince if he had
found Cinderella right away as you do when he has to do so many hard
things before he finds her?"
Every one must realize the impossibility of providing a scheme of
questioning that would fit exactly any given case, but will not the
above suggest a method that may lead to many a happy and profitable
evening at the family round table? Even if there are older children in
the group they will renew their interest in the old stories and get more
good from them when it is seen that father and mother do not deem it
beneath their dignity, nor outside the range of their interests, to read
and study a fairy tale.
In _Journeys Through Bookland_ are here and there outlines and questions
designed to lead the children to see for themselves what it is hoped
others will take pleasure in showing them. Examples of the selections
which contain outlines, questions and comments designed to help in the
study of the plot may be found as follows:
Volume I, page 264. _The Twin Brothers._
Volume I, page 395. _Something._
Volume II, page 124. _The Snow Queen._
Volume IV, page 174. _Incident of the French Camp._
Volume VIII, page 364. _The Tempest._
Volume IX, page 232. _The Gold-Bug._
B. THE PERSONS
In most stories, be they brief and simple or as long and complicated as
the two-volume novel, the interest centers in one or more persons whose
character the reader learns to understand, and whose success or failure,
joy or grief gives him pleasure or excites his sympathy. All events
center about the hero or heroes, and while other persons may be
mentioned, and even win the reader's attention for a time, they finally
subside into the background and are remembered only as they contribute
to greater interest in the principal characters.
Every author tries to make his heroes and heroines speak and act like
real human beings and show their characters by their actions and their
words. Sometimes, however, he tells the reader just how his people look,
feel and think, and describes their characters to give an interest in
what happens to them. A more interesting method and a more artistic one
is to leave the persons to disclose themselves as the story progresses,
making them show by the way they act and by what they say under certain
circumstances the strong and weak qualities in their natures. Nothing is
more interesting than to watch the development of character in the hero
of a story, particularly when it is accomplished under conditions which
are themselves interesting.
In studying the persons in a story, then, the chief things to keep in
mind are the following:
1. The principal person, or hero--the one, or perhaps the ones, in whose
fortunes the reader is most vitally interested.
2. The secondary persons who are introduced merely to add variety or to
throw light upon the character of the hero, or to assist to bring about
the events which center about him.
3. The appearance, dress and manners of the persons.
4. The ways in which the author makes his persons lifelike and shows the
reader what they really are.
5. The characters of the persons as they appear or as they are developed
in the progress of the story. This is the really important part of the
study, the one which becomes increasingly interesting as readers grow
older and the stories they study become more and more complex and
difficult. The study of the characters of Shakespeare's heroes and
heroines is more than interesting pastime for men and women--it is good,
hard work.
For a simple example of what is meant, let us undertake briefly the
study of _The Hardy Tin Soldier_ (Volume I, page 148).
1. The hero is the Hardy Tin Soldier himself.
2. Persons of secondary importance are:
a. The twenty-four brothers.
b. The little boy.
c. The Dancing Lady.
d. The Goblin.
e. The servant-maid.
f. The two street boys.
g. The Water Rat.
h. The fish.
i. The cook.
Of these the Dancing Lady is second only to the lame Soldier; the
Goblin, the two street boys, the little boy and the Water Rat are given
considerable prominence, while the twenty-four brothers, the
servant-maid, the fish and the cook are introduced merely to effect a
certain incident or to give an air of truthfulness to the events. This
is a fairy tale, and in it we must be faithful to our juvenile friends,
considering the Goblin, the Water Rat and the fish as real persons, and
the Tin Soldier as a very human being.
3. In appearance the Tin Soldier was tall and erect, but alas! he had
only one leg! His uniform was red and blue and very splendid. He carried
his musket across his shoulder as a marching soldier should, kept his
eyes straight to the front, and stood very firmly upon his one foot. In
the fire he lost the tinsel and the color from his uniform, and when the
Dancer joined him he melted into a little tin heart.
4. While Andersen tells outright some of the characteristics of the
little Soldier, he leaves others to be inferred from acts. The Soldier
thinks, and sometimes the reader is told just what he thinks, but never
once does he speak--to him silence is golden. Yet not once do we miss
his voice, and it is only when we have finished that we suddenly think
what a silent little body he is. That is part of the author's art. The
Soldier never once moves his eyes, or changes his attitude; the author
never forgets that he is a _tin_ soldier, but makes his every act
consistent with his stiffness and rigidity. That is more of the author's
skill. There were other soldiers, twenty-four of them, and all were
brothers. A less skilful author would have stopped in the telling of the
fact, but Andersen adds in his whimsical, charming manner, "for they
were all born of one tin spoon." All the other brothers were perfect;
our Soldier had but one leg, yet "it was just this soldier who became
remarkable." Even the missing leg creates an interest, and Andersen uses
it to center our attention upon his little hero.
5. Andersen tells us the following things about the Tin Soldier's
character:
a. He stood firmly even with but one leg to balance himself upon.
b. He thought his box was not a place for a lady-wife who lived in a
castle. This showed his humility.
c. Yet he was very human--"I must make her acquaintance."
d. When he fell from the window, he put his leg straight up, stuck his
helmet downward and his bayonet between the paving stones.
e. He would not call loudly to the servant-maid because he was in the
uniform of a soldier.
f. While in the boat rushing down the gutter, he trembled, but he never
changed countenance, and still looked straight before him.
g. He sighed for the little Lady's company, while passing through the
drain.
h. He would not answer the Water Rat.
i. He stiffened himself and would not move an eyelid when the paper boat
sank.
j. He lay unmoved even in the darkness of the fish's body.
k. He was not at all proud when he was rescued.
l. When he saw the Dancer again he very nearly wept tin tears, but he
thought how improper that would be, and kept them back.
m. He stood firm and shouldered his musket although the fire, or grief,
made all the colors leave him.
n. When the Dancer joined him in the flames he melted into a
heart-shaped lump of tin.
What a fine little Tin Soldier he proves to be! Could any one be more
loyal to his profession? Body erect, eyes to the front, musket
shouldered, every muscle at attention all the time, no matter if he had
but one leg to stand upon. He was brave as a lion, although once in the
presence of the direst danger he trembled a little, but he drove every
sign of fear from his face and stood his ground manfully. After he had
once seen the Dancer and realized how similar her trials must be to his,
how constant he was in his devotion! At his death what could be more
fitting than to see him melt into a little heart-shaped mass, the
symbol of his courage and constancy! Why should we call him the _hardy_
Tin Soldier; would it not have been better if the translator had called
him the _constant_ Tin Soldier?
Now, when we give the hero of this pretty little story so much
attention, does it not seem worth while? Will not we, grown men and
women, find so much in the hero that we may gather our young friends
about us and lead them to see how admirable a character he has and how
beautifully Andersen has shown it? If we talk not _to_ the boys and
girls, but _with_ them, if we invite their questions as to the Tin
Soldier's character, and by our informal questions lead them to
appreciate the strength, courage, and devotion of the little toy, will
they not get some taste for a good story well written, and perhaps,
learn some little lessons that will help them to be better men and
women?
_Journeys_ furnishes you with many another fine story, equally
interesting. There are a number of the tales, too, which may call for
your own best efforts in the study of character, and from which even you
may derive some genuine help in the heavy problems life thrusts upon
you.
In many places, too, the present writer has appended outlines and
questions which the young people themselves may like to pore over and
which may assist the inquiring parent even more than the brief study
above. The following are particularly suggestive:
Volume I, page 224. _Cinderella._
Volume IV, page 93. _A Dog of Flanders._
Volume VIII, page 335. _Dream Children._
Volume VIII, page 364. _The Tempest._
C. THE SCENES
One of the benefits of good reading is that it fills the mind with
beautiful pictures of places that we cannot visit or that live only in
the eyes of the imagination. A powerful descriptive writer takes his
reader with him, and by graphic words makes visible and almost real the
scenes among which they wander. One may sit in the light of his study
lamp during a black northern winter and read himself away from the chill
and dreariness into some warm, sunny clime where flowers of new and rare
forms flaunt their gorgeous colors and perfume the air with strange
delicious odors; great trees with tufts of far-reaching leaves cast
their welcome shade, and long vines trail gracefully from their living
supports. Wonderful birds with brilliant plumage flit about, as through
the openings in the trees glimpses are given of long waves rolling
gently upon the glistening beach. It is only necessary to give free rein
to the imagination and to visualize the scenes that the skilful writer
describes.
There are people of such literal minds that descriptive writing fails to
appeal to them. It is their misfortune. To others every word brings a
picture that appears almost as vivid and as full of detail as those upon
which the material eye gazes. Like any other power of the mind, this may
be cultivated, even among the mature. Children are highly gifted with
this power, to begin with, and only a little training is necessary to
make them use the faculty freely for their own delight. Suggest to them
the outlines of a picture, and see how rapidly they will fill in the
details.
No two can see precisely the same imaginary picture; in fact, no two
people looking at the same landscape will see precisely the same things,
and if they are asked to describe what they see, it will appear that
things which are most vivid to one may have made little impression upon
the other. It is not to be expected, then, that two children reading a
description of some scene will get the same picture of it. Each will
color his own from the previous impressions and experiences he has had.
Yet to each the picture may be very real and very pleasing. Good
teachers of reading spend much time and effort in teaching the young to
visualize the scenes of which they read, not only because of the
pleasure it will afford the young when they are mature, but because the
power to see vividly is of greatest assistance in every department of
study.
In some stories little attention is given to the scene; in fact, the
persons might appear anywhere and not be in the least affected by their
surroundings, and the events might have happened in China as well as in
England. Even then, however, there will be found mention of many things
that seem to give locality to the story. At the other extreme are
writers who lose themselves in descriptive flights and pause to describe
a sunset while the heroine is perishing, and the hero must stand
helpless until the author has painted the last color in the sky. In the
best literature for children, description is so mingled with narrative
that while there are fine pictures to see, they do not fall in the way
of the events which the young reader follows with such breathless
interest. In fact, the pictures aid the narrative.
There is of course in every story much descriptive writing that does not
apply to the scenes among which the plot is laid, yet it is well to make
a study of description from the scenes, for it is here that the author
has his greatest opportunity for pictorial writing.
If the story is brief there may be but one scene. Everything may happen
in one place, and none of the surroundings may change. For instance, in
the fable of _The Dog and His Shadow_ (Volume I, page 63) there is but
one incident, which happens in one place. Such a simple story, however,
furnishes the material for a good picture, and in bringing it out to a
child who reads or hears the fable for the first time, the parent is
giving good service that will lead to keener appreciation and higher
power of interpretation in his child's later years. What can be made out
of this picture, and how should it be done? Let us see:
The fable is told in simple words, and only plain facts are stated. What
are the elements of our picture? We can find only six, viz.: a big dog;
a big piece of meat; day; a river; a narrow bridge; the dog's image. Now
if we were to draw a picture to illustrate this fable we would begin
with a general sketch. Should we show a level country, or are there
hills about? Is it barren and desolate, or are there trees? Are there
houses near? Where did the dog get his meat? Is it a large river, or
only a small one? The bridge is narrow; has it a railing along the side?
Would the dog be liable to see his image if it was a wagon bridge? Was
it then a mere foot bridge? Would a single plank across a small stream
answer the purpose? The dog is big; is it a dog that knows and likes the
water? Would you think it could be a Newfoundland dog? What kind of a
dog is it? It is day time; is the sun shining? Do you imagine it is
morning or noon, or that it is toward evening? In making your pictures
would you draw the trees to show the leaves blown by the wind? If the
dog sees his image, is the water smooth or rough? Is the stream rapid
and rough, or smooth and placid?
While such questioning is going on both speaker and listener are seeing
more clearly every minute. Besides, in order to see accurately they are
drawing on their own previous knowledge and experience, and are
reasoning just as truly as though they were solving a problem in
arithmetic.
In every picture we form in our reading there are certain elements that
we must accept and include because the writer gives them to us. Other
elements suggest themselves, and we accept them and put them in place or
reject them entirely. In the fable just discussed we are told that the
dog is big, the piece of meat is big, and the bridge is narrow. We may
not see a small dog with a little piece of meat on a big, wide bridge.
Houses, trees, sedges on the river bank, children playing by the side of
the path, spring, summer or autumn foliage, or even snowclad shores with
black water between--any of these we may put into our picture, for the
fable is silent on these points. We must be accurate, and the parent can
do no better service in reading than to make his child see accurately
whatever he sees at all.
The artist studies the selection he means to illustrate in just this
way, and then draws his picture. When we see his picture we may accept
it as good and true to the conditions, or call it poor and inapplicable.
We should not be hasty, but should try to get his point of view before
we criticise. If he violates any of the fixed conditions of the story
his work is bad; if he gives us his interpretation and violates no fixed
conditions, his work may be good or bad according to the standards we
set up: are we always certain that our standards are correct?
In the fable _The Fox and the Stork_ (Volume I, page 73) the artist has
given us two beautiful pictures which in themselves tell almost the
entire story, and his pictures are almost wholly from his own
imagination, for there was given him to work with very little more than
a fox, a stork, a wide dish and a vase. Such a pictorial imagination as
he possessed is what should be cultivated in children. If they can be
encouraged to draw what they see, they not only fix their own
impressions, but they learn to see more vividly and more accurately.
In long stories there are many scenes; it may be that no two incidents
happen in the same place. In the drama, which contains all the elements
of the story, the scenes are limited in number, are fixed and unchanging
and after the reader has arranged his scenery he may give his attention
exclusively to the dialogue because he knows there will be no change in
the scene. In the story the reader may need to be constantly alert, as
when his hero takes a long and perilous journey the scenes may change
with the quickness of a kaleidoscope, and yet all be important to the
narrative. The more complex the story, the greater the variety in
scene, and consequently the greater the opportunities for study. It is
interesting work for children to pick out the scenes, to count them and
then to compare them. Some of them are more vividly portrayed than
others. Why? Some are more important as descriptions, and some because
of the incidents occurring in them.
Sometimes, especially in speaking of the drama, the word _scene_ is
applied not only in its literal sense, but also to include not merely
the place but the incidents that happen in the place, as well.
For instance, we may say, "The quarrel between Brutus and Cassius is a
wonderful scene in _Julius Cæsar_." Again, the word is used sometimes to
mark the division of a play, as when we speak of the second scene in the
first act of _Macbeth_. For our purposes, however, in our early reading
with children, let us use it to signify only the place where events
happen.
An author may tell us at the beginning of a story that the scene is laid
in London, or in Calcutta, or in the Black Forest; but unless he employs
some method of giving a vivid impression of the setting of the story, we
soon lose sight of locality. Sometimes, of course, it is not necessary
that we should remember the place--the story moves on independent of
scene; but other stories depend in part for their interest and even for
their plot upon their setting. In such cases, the author, by reference
to the natural features characteristic of a region, or to the peculiar
traits or mannerisms or turns of speech of his characters, keeps before
us the place in which the scene is laid. Such peculiarities of a place
or its inhabitants, when introduced into a story, are given the name of
local coloring.
In _A Christmas Carol_ (Volume VI, page 244), Dickens meant that we
should be conscious throughout not only of a Christmas atmosphere, but
of an _English_ Christmas atmosphere. The references to the Christmas
feeling are too obvious to require pointing out, but the methods by
which the author makes us conscious that we are in London do not show so
clearly at first sight. By a study of the paragraph which begins in the
middle of page 253, and of the one immediately following it, we may get
some idea of these methods.
"Meanwhile the _fog_ and darkness thickened so, that the people ran
about with flaring _links_." A London boy would not need a footnote to
tell him that the fogs of London are famous; that they are at times so
thick that all traffic is obliged to cease. Nor would he need to be told
that links are torches of tow and pitch, which enterprising London boys
provided themselves with at foggy times, that they might earn money by
piloting people about. The word _brazier_, too, is in commoner use in
England than it is in the United States. The _poulterers'_ trade is
another English touch.
Every one knows that the _Lord Mayor_ is the chief official of the city
of London, but perhaps we do not all know that _Mansion House_, with its
great banqueting-hall where the state dinners are held, is the residence
of the Lord Mayor.
Now-a-days we all know what English _plum pudding_ is--it is served at
many American tables on Christmas day. But nothing is more
characteristically English, unless, indeed, it is the _roast beef_, not
turkey, which the tailor was planning to have for his Christmas dinner.
Probably no one but an English writer, writing of an English subject,
would refer in Dickens's off-hand manner to Dunstan, the English
statesman and archbishop who accomplished so much for religion that he
came to be known as Saint Dunstan.
One of the most characteristically English touches in the two paragraphs
is the reference to the _carol_ sung by the boy at Scrooge's keyhole.
Other countries have Christmas carols, but the custom of singing them
before people's houses is peculiarly common in England. The carol of
which the first two lines are quoted is perhaps the one most frequently
sung.
These instances will give some idea of what is meant by local color, and
of the methods used in securing it. It will be an interesting study to
find other words and phrases in the remainder of the story which
strengthen our feeling of the "Englishness" of _A Christmas Carol_.
_Journeys Through Bookland_ furnishes an abundance of good stories of
fine descriptive power. A few of the best are the following:
Volume II, page 405. _The King of the Golden River._
Volume IV, page 174. _Incident of the French Camp._
Volume IV, page 322. _The Attack on the Castle._
Volume VI, page 173. _Sohrab and Rustum._
D AND E. THE LESSON AND THE AUTHOR'S PURPOSE
The stories of the present day are many of them written with the avowed
purpose of mere entertainment. The author is satisfied if his work
sells, and cares nothing for the lesson he may teach, although by means
of false views of life he may do ineffaceable harm to the minds of his
readers. Many of the popular magazines and other periodicals, not even
excepting some of those published especially for children, are full of
light reading which vitiates the taste and may even undermine character
by its seductive influence. In the effort to be entertaining the recent
writers for children have only too frequently sacrificed strength and
virility to a fascinating brilliancy that seizes the imagination of
youthful readers and gives no material for subsequent growth. The
earlier writers, those who produced the great classics which still are
the most inspiring things in our language, were actuated by nobler
motives. To them literature was not a trade, but a high calling, to
which the writer came as a priest approaches his altar. Such a writer
held a high purpose and kept it in view, often giving hours of thought
and the best of his genius to work that the modern story writer neglects
entirely or passes over with hasty evasion.
The purpose of the author is always a subject of interesting inquiry,
and whenever it appears a serious one it is worthy our careful study.
The novel is often the medium of conveying the results of deep study
into human character, and a few of the greatest stories have been
epoch-making in their effect upon the human race.
As the fiction which children read has a profound influence in the
formation of character, it should always be examined with greatest care
to see that the author's purpose is a laudable one and that he carries
it out in such a way that the lesson is wholesome and salutary. Some
stories may be entertaining merely--they are for the play-spells of the
imagination; others should be instructive--they are for hours of study
and reflection; a third class should be invigorating and inspiring, full
of good lessons of high moral import--they are for times of stress, or
the still hours when character is made.
If, however, the purpose of the author is too evident, if his lesson is
too obvious, none are so quick to catch the fact as wide-awake childish
readers. The author who lugs instruction and information into his
stories will find the boys and girls skipping all that he values, or
laying down his books with laughter and derision. The writer who
moralizes may find his work to be immoral in its effect on his juvenile
readers, or may see his stories relegated to the overloaded bargain
counters.
In the same sense, it is often unwise to dwell long upon the moral of a
story or even to point it out if it be at all evident. There is no phase
of teaching reading that requires such careful thought or such fine
discrimination from the parent as that which relates to the lesson of
the story. It is often better to let the selection do its own work than
to try to elaborate its purpose. Yet a skilful and sympathetic leader,
one quick to read the feelings of his young listeners, may often render
his greatest service in free conversations about what the story teaches.
It would seem that no one could do this quite as well as the parent who
has known his boys and girls from infancy and can see in his offspring
those very traits of character which have been to his own advantage or
detriment.
More will be accomplished by questioning with occasional comments than
by preaching, more by showing the help the story gives to the questioner
than by trying to foist its assistance upon the hearer. "Now there is a
fine lesson for you, my boy. I want you to remember it," is not half so
effective as "That idea seems good to me. I've often thought about it
but never seemed to realize it so much. I shall try to remember it."
Wouldn't you, dear parent, rather learn _with_ your friend than to have
him always instructing you? "What do you think of that, John?" is much
more apt to help the boy than "You must see it this way, John." Are you
not, dear parent, rather proud of your own judgment, and do you not
suppose your son has inherited your feeling to some extent at least?
We heard the old fables in our babyhood and read them in Latin as we
grew older, and we still are fond of them, though the "morals" have long
since been forgotten. Those wise lessons so graphically presented have
helped to form our characters, but not through the formal "moral" at the
end. Beware of "_Haec fabula docet_."[189-1]
As a further suggestion of method we may consider for a few moments that
beautiful but sad little story of Andersen's, _The Fir Tree_ (Volume II,
page 68). Every good story is worth reading more than once, and every
good method of teaching involves more than one reading. In this instance
as children read or listen, they are first interested in the story as a
story; that is, in the plot. They enjoy the adventures of the Fir Tree
and may feel for it in its misfortunes, but their interest is in the
tale. When they have read to the end, however, they will be interested
in the appearance of the tree, their hero, and in the other characters
which give vitality to the story. Then the scenes may be talked over,
and varied enough they are to excite real interest as the story is read
now with the definite purpose of seeing the pictures Andersen has
sketched. With all this in mind the children are ready to think over it
again and learn the lesson the great prose-poet meant to give. If the
character of the Fir Tree is well understood, the lesson almost tells
itself, for ambition, arrogance and discontent are seen as the traits
that make for unhappiness. The Fir Tree might have been happy many times
if it had only been content. At the worst it gave happiness to others,
and therein, perhaps, filled its place in the world. Human beings must
often find their pleasure in giving happiness to others and must be
content to know that they are of service to others. Some of the lessons
of _The Fir Tree_ are rather hard for little folks to understand, and
there is something in the charming story for those older readers that
have hearts young enough to see the meaning.
Study the purpose in the following:
Volume I, page 414. _The Ugly Duckling._
Volume II, page 124. _The Snow Queen._
F. THE METHOD AND STYLE OF THE AUTHOR
Small children are not interested in considering the way in which an
author tells his story, nor the methods he employs to secure attention
and excite interest. Yet there comes a time when such a study is highly
pleasing to inquiring youth. It is desirable always that children should
early begin to appreciate the difference in the way plots are handled,
to discriminate between a tale that is well told and one that is poorly
told. At an early age boys delight in stories that are full of the
excitement of adventure, conflict and mystery. Their craving is natural
enough and must be satisfied. At such time they will read little or
nothing else unless they are driven to it, and to compel them to read
what they do not want is to make them hate reading for the time being
and perhaps permanently. In time they will outgrow the taste--it is
nothing to be feared if properly guided. The danger lies in the fact
that they may find the excitement they wish in stories that are really
immoral, or that are so poorly written that they destroy all taste for
fine literature. The right course is to supply plenty of reading in
which excitement abounds, where Indians stalk the woods, pirates rove
the seas, and knights fight for their lady-loves, but always in stories
that are so well told that the taste for good reading is cultivated
unconsciously as the boy reads. _Treasure Island_ is bloody enough for
the most exacting boy, and it bears many a reading, for it is so
charmingly told that long after the cry, "Pieces of eight, pieces of
eight," has ceased to make the welcome chills run up and down the boy's
back, he returns to the story for the pleasure he finds in the style of
Stevenson. In later years the boy will write better and speak better for
having read the story.
However, the parent may do much to help his child along by calling
attention to vivid figures of speech, to happy expressions of all kinds,
and to those graceful touches of humor and pathos that are so
characteristic of Andersen, Stevenson, Ruskin, Kingsley, and other great
writers for boys and girls. No child who can read well for himself is
too young to appreciate a good figure of speech if the comparison is
based upon something falling within his own experience. Who is so young,
or so old, for that matter, that he will not thrill a little at
Longfellow's lines:
"Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels."
What does the poet say? "The stars appeared in the sky." In saying it
what does he make us feel? As we repeat the lines we see the immense
expanse of the heavens, and as we gaze, the sparkling dots of light
appear silently, slowly, one after another, just as beautiful flowers
appear as the early morning light gilds the green meadows. We think,
too, in the poet's fanciful way, that these are no common flowers, but
exquisite tokens of the loving care the angels have over us, and a
gentle reminder that always should we trust in them.
Often the highest sentiment is clothed in lines whose figures, most
beautiful in themselves, exalt the spirit as ordinary expressions could
never do. At the close of _The Chambered Nautilus_, Oliver Wendell
Holmes sings:
"Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from Heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!"
Is it not well for the parent to lead his child to see such things in
literature, to search for them, and when they are found to treasure them
and bring them for mutual enjoyment into the family circle?
G. EMOTIONAL POWER
Fiction appeals strongly to feeling and stimulates the growth of that
series of great emotions that make so large a part of character. It may
excite ambition and a thirst for power or wealth or give an impulse to
labor and self-denial; it may teach us sympathy and love for our
fellow-men, or arouse anger, hatred and defiance; it may give us a
keener discrimination of right from wrong and lead us far on our search
for truth, even into the calm of religious beliefs.
We see the play of emotions in the imaginary persons that pass before
us, and as we learn to love our new friends, their influence passes out
to us through the words of the gifted author. Bob Cratchit's tender love
(Volume VI, page 304) makes us more considerate of the sick and
helpless; Tom Brown's manly defense of his praying schoolboy friend
(Volume V, page 472) leads us to new respect and admiration for the boy
who lives up to his principles, and drives us, perhaps, to begin again
upon the duties we have neglected.
By studying with the children the feelings the characters in a story
exhibit, the parent may give the best of moral lessons without the
appearance of so doing and more effectively than by countless reprimands
and formal orders.
As a suggestion of method we offer an outline based upon _Rab and His
Friends_ (Volume VI, page 99), one of the most touching stories ever
written, a series of incidents that appeal to every holy emotion.
Rab, the great mastiff, claims first place in our minds, dog though he
is; but James and Ailie are such lovable beings that we never can forget
them.
The story has been read through; we have followed the simple incidents
to their pathetic climax; we have learned to know Rab by sight and to
recognize his sterling character; James the honest, tender-hearted
carrier, and gentle, suffering Ailie, his wife, have taken their places
among the dear friends our imagination has created; we have noted the
power of the author, his humor, his scholarly English and his
sympathetic touch. We may have read the story more than once--at any
rate we have read portions of it several times, so we can trace the
emotions that are felt by the noble dog.
Page 100: When the little white bull terrier fastens himself upon Rab's
throat and the strong muzzle prevents the big fellow from defending
himself, "his whole frame stiffens with _indignation_ and _surprise_."
"He looked a statue of _anger_ and _astonishment_."
After Rab had been released from his muzzle and had killed the little
terrier, "he looked down at his victim _appeased_, _ashamed_ and
_amazed_."
Page 103: When his master aimed a kick at him, he "drew _cringing_ up"
and "slunk _dismayed_ under the cart."
When his master spoke kindly, "'Rab, ma man, puir Rabbie,'" "the stump
of a tail rose up, the ears were cocked, the eyes filled, and were
comforted"; Rab showed _pride_ and _happiness again_.
Page 104: He was _pleased_ when the medical student scratched his huge
head, and _anxious_, when no notice was taken of him.
When he first came to the hospital he felt _pride_ and _condescension_,
"like the Duke of Wellington entering a subdued city."
Page 106: When James handed Ailie from the cart, "Rab looked on
_concerned_ and _puzzled_."
Page 106: In the consulting room Rab was filled with _suspicion_ and
_uneasiness_; he was "grim and comic," and eyed all three.
When Ailie was put to bed and Rab was permitted to enter the room he
"slunk in," _half-ashamed_, but fully _determined_.
Page 107: Rab valued himself highly, but felt no conceit: he "had the
_dignity_ and _simplicity_ of great size," and the "_gravity_ of all
great fighters."
Page 109: Rab felt _perplexity_ and _anger_, "forever cocking his ear
and dropping it as fast," when Ailie entered the operating room.
During the operation he felt _sympathy_ for the suffering of his
mistress, _anger_ and _revengefulness_ at her tormentors; "his ragged
ear was up, and importunate; he growled and gave now and then a sharp,
impatient yelp; he would have liked to have done something to that man."
Afterward in Ailie's room he felt _fear_, _anxiety_ and a _desire to
help_, and showed "how meek and gentle he could be, occasionally, in his
sleep, letting us know he was demolishing some adversary."
Page 110: Rab continued to feel a sense of _depression_, _sadness_ and
_anxiety_; during his walks with the medical student he was "sombre and
mild; declined doing battle--submitted to sundry indignities."
While Ailie seemed to be recovering Rab felt _kindliness_ and _subdued
joy_, though _resentment_ lay close beneath the surface; he was
"reconciled, and even cordial," had "made up his mind that as yet nobody
required worrying," but was always prepared for it.
Page 111: As Ailie grew worse, _grief_ and _fear_ began to take
possession of Rab; he "subsided under the table into a dark place, and
was motionless."
Page 112: When Ailie called in delirium, her strained voice filled Rab
with _surprise_, _astonishment_ and a sense of _guilt_; he started up
"surprised, and slinking off as if he were to blame somehow, or had
been dreaming he heard."
Page 114: At Ailie's death Rab was overwhelmed with _grief_; he licked
her hand which was hanging down "all over carefully, looked at her, and
returned to his place under the table."
The dog's feeling of _duty_, _obligation_ and _devotion_ was shown when
he leaped upon the bottom of the bed "and settled himself, his head and
eye to the dead face."
Page 115: Rab remained _in statu quo_ till the carrier returned; _love_
and _devotion_ filled his heart.
Page 115: His _grief_ wholly absorbed him; he did not notice his medical
friend when the cart left the hospital.
Page 117: After the carrier's death, _grief_ wore down the dog's brave
spirit; he became _discouraged_, _impatient_, _resentful_; "he was aye
gur gurrin', and grup gruppin'." Yet he was _faithful_ to his trust, for
he was only impatient and resentful when a stranger came and interfered
in the business of the dead carrier.
It is evident that the study of emotions is to a great extent a study of
character, and that in this instance, we have given a tabulation of
Rab's traits of character. It is through the showing of his feelings
that Rab influences us. A little introspection shows that we are feeling
just what the dog feels, or that some emotion is aroused in us that
responds to the feeling of the dog. We are not exactly _surprised_ when
the bulldog grips Rab, but we are _indignant_ that he should have no
chance to defend himself--we would be among the first to slit the
muzzle. We may not be pleased that Rab killed the bulldog, but we are
glad that Rab defended himself. We realize the strength of the mastiff's
powerful jaws, and are not _amazed_ at what he did--we are now rather
inclined to feel sympathy for the helpless little terrier.
So we might go on incident by incident and compare our feelings with
those of Rab, but that would require much space and perhaps it would not
be of great benefit to the reader, for our feelings may not be his
feelings, and the things which arouse him may have little effect upon
another. It is sufficient to call attention to the value of analysis,
and show that self-study is a valuable adjunct to reading.
It is well that most children are not likely to indulge to any great
extent in introspection, for too much is injurious. However, it can do
the young no harm for them to study the feelings of others, and now and
then examine their own emotions. By so doing, they may learn that some
reading, which is destructive to peace and productive of unpleasant or
evil feelings, should be avoided.
GENERAL PRINCIPLES AND REFLECTIONS
The studies so far given are comprehensive, and are suited to all forms
of fictitious narrative. Most of the illustrations have been drawn from
the simpler tales in the earlier volumes, but the studies are equally
applicable to the more difficult selections of the later volumes, and
may be easily adapted by the parent to children of any age. The
restrictions of space have compelled us to offer but one set of studies
here, but there are many simpler and many more difficult ones scattered
through the books where the juvenile readers will find them, and it is
hoped become interested in them. In another place we have shown parents
how these may be found easily and used consecutively if they wish so to
use them.
The studies here given serve to systematize the work and enable parents
to see the logic of the plans. Children are not interested in the
studies as such, nor in the plan, and, in fact, are liable to be
repelled if the machinery of instruction is evident.
Fortunately, children like to read many times the things they enjoy, and
should always be encouraged to do so. But they are likely to read
stories over and over again, for the plot only, and to become so
fascinated by it as never to notice the more valuable and intrinsically
more interesting things the narrative contains.
Yet every person who reads or tells stories to young children has
without doubt often noticed how insistent they are upon verbal accuracy.
The story must be told the third time just as it was the first and
second times. This means that they are sensitive to the thing as a
perfect whole, and feel that any change mars the beauty of the story as
a scratch mars the face of a favorite doll, or a broken seat spoils the
toy buggy.
There comes a time when, if you give a boy a mechanical toy, he is more
interested in how it is made than in the running of it. He wants to
"take to pieces" everything he has. Then he will enjoy analytical work
on a story if he is led to it intelligently. Then the old stories come
in for new readings, "to see how they are made," to find something in
them that he never found before.
The style of reading which a child does when he is "looking for
something" is very different from his reading when he is absorbed in the
story. Suppose he is trying to find out what kind of a man is James, in
_Rab and His Friends_. He forgets for a time the story, and reads
rapidly along, merely running his eye over the pages, watching intently
for the word _James_, or the word _carrier_. When either of the words
appears he stops to read carefully. He may have to go back a few words,
perhaps to the beginning of a paragraph, all the time with his attention
fixed exclusively upon what is said about James. When he has read it on
the first page, he skims along to the next one and stops again. This is
reading intelligently for a purpose, and is really one of the most
valuable kinds of reading, the kind he will use most frequently when he
is a man, the one that will save time for him when in later years he
most needs it. It is the style of reading, too, that is much neglected
in the schools.
To analyze the character of the hero of a story is as practical a lesson
in life as any child can gain. In trying to discern the springs of
action, in seeing how words and acts show character, and how dress and
appearance indicate what a person really is, he is learning to
understand his acquaintances and to judge whether they merit his trust
and confidence, or are to be regarded with suspicion and disdain. This
is the practical wisdom without which many a man has found himself the
victim of misplaced confidence, or allowed himself to be led into
temptations he could not resist by those who professed friendship for
him.
Again, when studying the scenes, a child is learning to picture vividly
and exactly, and is training his mind to close discrimination. He is
training himself to avoid the mistakes that the careless reader makes.
Many a man has found himself paying for careless reading, because he did
not see a thing exactly as it was described to him.
At the risk of repetition we have argued again for the reading of
stories in the different ways and for the different purposes suggested,
for we know that the parent who will follow these plans will interest
his children, will see them improve, and will find them growing nearer
to him, while he will be more of a companion, less of a ruler. In so
doing he may forget some of the cares of the day and find himself
growing younger, more contented and happier as his family reaches the
age when it can take care of itself. Then, later, when the long years of
old age have come, it may be that the parents will discover that while
they read and worked with their children they taught themselves to find
in reading a solace for their loneliness.
It is scarcely necessary to say that many of these latter comments and
suggestions are as applicable to reading other kinds of literature as
they are to the reading of stories, but stories form so large a part of
a child's reading that it has seemed best to place them in this
connection. Many essays contain something of narration, and not
infrequently an incident forms the basis of a beautiful lyric. In print
these studies may appear formal and forbidding, but where they are
presented in a conversational manner, they become attractive and
inspiring.
Completed Studies
_The Hare and the Tortoise_
(Volume I, page 71)
A. _The Plot._ The slow Tortoise and the speedy Hare ran a race. The
Hare, full of conceit, loitered and slept by the way, while the Tortoise
won in his plodding fashion.
Incidents:
1. The Hare derides the Tortoise.
2. The Tortoise challenges the Hare.
3. The Fox becomes judge and holds the stakes.
4. The race begins in heat and dust.
5. The Hare takes a rest and a nap.
6. The Tortoise in comfort passes the Hare.
7. The Hare awakes, thinks the Tortoise behind, and stops to eat.
8. The Hare discovers that the Tortoise has passed and begins his
pursuit.
9. The Hare finds the Tortoise at the brook.
10. The Fox awards the money to the Tortoise.
B. _The Persons._ There are three characters in the story: the Hare, the
Tortoise and the Fox.
1. The Hare. He is a small, long-legged animal, who can leap long
distances and run like the wind. In character he is unkind, impudent,
proud and lazy.
2. The Tortoise. He is a clumsy, short-legged turtle, who carries a
heavy box-shell around his body. He cannot jump at all, and he moves
very slowly, flat on the ground, even his tail dragging in the dust.
But he is wise, steady, not easily discouraged, and sticks to his task
till it is done.
3. The Fox. He is a wise old judge, who cannot let the loser go without
a word of advice.
C. _The Scene._ The race takes place along a dusty road on a hot day.
There is a big clover patch, where the Hare rests, and at the end of the
course is a cool and delightful brook or river.
D. _The Author's Purpose and the Lesson._ The author of this old fable
intended to teach the lesson that he puts into the last sentence,
"Steady-going wins the race."
E. _The Method and Style of the Author._ His method is to teach a truth
by means of an interesting story. His style is graphic and dramatic. He
gives three animals the power to talk, and he makes them talk so that
they seem almost like real human beings. At any rate, he makes us see
the character of each very clearly.
F. _Emotions._ We see in the Hare the feelings of conceit, contempt, and
laziness; of surprise, fear, and excitement; of chagrin and
disappointment. In the Tortoise we see a little of resentment and some
self-confidence; then courage, determination, and persistence; at last,
calm enjoyment and joy at winning. The Fox looks on as we do, and has
confidence in the Tortoise and a little spice of contempt for the Hare.
Then he is pleased that the Tortoise should win, and enjoys giving the
Hare a stinging bit of advice.
G. _Conclusion._ It is because the little fable has so much in it that
it has lived for centuries, and you have only to speak to any cultivated
person about the Hare and the Tortoise to remind him that "Steady-going
wins the race."
The preceding analysis shows what a parent should expect to bring out
from a little child, reading the fable for the first time, or from an
older boy or girl making a careful study of fables. In both cases,
however, the facts should be brought out by questions, with the
expectation that the juveniles would not express themselves in anything
like the words given above.
_The Fox and the Crow_
(Volume I, page 64)
The following analysis of _The Fox and the Crow_ shows the method as it
might appear in actual use with small children. It should be remembered,
however, that no two persons will ask the same questions and that no two
children will answer them in the same manner. Bring out the thoughts and
keep the children interested while it is being done. Rapid, clearcut
questions which do not suggest the answer are the kind to use. Whenever
there is hesitation or doubt, refer to the story. The story, plus the
child's imagination and reason, must give the answers. If other facts
are needed, the questioner should supply them or show where they may be
learned.
A. _The Plot._
Question. What was the first thing that happened in this little story?
Answer. The Fox saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its mouth.
Q. What next?
A. The Crow lit on a branch of a tree.
Q. Next?
A. The Fox made up his mind to get the cheese.
Q. What did he do then?
A. He walked to the foot of the tree.
Q. What next did he do?
A. He flattered the Crow and asked her to sing.
Q. What did the Crow do?
A. She cawed and dropped the cheese.
Q. What did the Fox do?
A. He snapped up the cheese and ran off.
Q. Did he do anything more?
A. Yes. He gave the Crow some advice.
Q. Now tell me the story in as few words as possible.
A. A Fox saw a Crow with some cheese in her mouth. He flattered her and
asked her to sing. When she cawed she dropped the cheese and the Fox ran
away with it.
B. _The Persons._
Question. Can a Fox talk, or a Crow sing?
Answer. No.
Q. Do they seem like persons in this story?
A. Yes.
Q. Let us think of them as persons, and see what kind of people they
are. We will talk about the Fox, first. What do you think he looked
like?
A. Like a saucy little dog with bright eyes, a long sharp nose, and a
bushy tail.
Q. When he said, "That's for me," what did you learn about him?
A. That he was hungry; that he was greedy; that he meant to get the
cheese.
Q. When he began to flatter the Crow, what did you think of him?
A. That he was sharp; that he was trying to fool the Crow.
Q. What did you think of him when he said that her voice was finer than
the voices of the other birds, just as her coat was?
A. He was really flattering. Before, he was telling some truth, for her
feathers were glossy and her eyes were bright.
Q. Did he really think she could sing?
A. No. He knew she could only caw. He was lying, then.
Q. What did he say after she had dropped the cheese?
A. "That was all I wanted."
Q. And then?
A. "Do not trust flatterers."
Q. Did the Fox mean it?
A. Yes. But he was plaguing her, sneering at her. He wasn't really
sincere.
Q. Now tell me what you've learned about the Fox.
A. He was a lively animal that looked like a dog, with a long nose and
bushy tail. He was smart, wise, knew how to flatter and get what he
wanted. But he was a liar and a mean fellow all around.
Q. Now, let us study the Crow. What did she look like?
A. She was a big black bird with glossy feathers and a bright eye. She
had a big black bill and black wings.
Q. Did she have a good voice for singing?
A. No. She could only say "caw, caw, caw," in a hoarse, croaking voice.
Q. Where was she?
A. On the limb of a tree.
Q. Could the Fox reach her?
A. No. She was safe.
Q. What did she think of herself?
A. She thought she was pretty and smart and could sing.
Q. What would you say of her manners?
A. She was proud and conceited and foolish, silly.
Q. Now, tell me what you have learned of the Crow.
A. She was a big black bird with glossy feathers and a bright eye. She
thought she could sing, but she was silly and proud and conceited. She
was too easily fooled by the lies and flattery of the fox.
C. _The Scene._
Question. Where were the Fox and the Crow?
Answer. Outdoors, somewhere.
Q. Were they near a house?
A. I think so, because the Crow had cheese in her mouth.
Q. Was it a prairie country?
A. Perhaps, but there was one tree near.
Q. Was it day, or night?
A. Daytime, I think. Crows do not hunt at night, but foxes do.
Q. Tell me all you know or can guess about the place where the bird and
fox were.
A. I think they were on the edge of the woods, not very far away from a
farmhouse. One tree stood out by itself, and the Crow flew from the
farmhouse to the lone tree.
D. and E. _The Lesson and the Author's Purpose._
Question. This is an old, old story, and it has been told in many
languages. We cannot be sure who first wrote it. But what do you suppose
the writer meant the story to do?
Answer. He meant it to teach a good lesson, I think.
Q. What is the lesson?
A. That foxes are tricky animals; that crows are silly birds; that
flattery and lying are bad; that it is foolish to trust anyone who
flatters you.
Q. Does that mean you do not trust people who praise you?
A. Oh, no. Praise is all right. Everybody likes to be praised.
Q. What is the difference between praise and flattery?
A. When a person praises you he tells the truth, and tells it because he
likes you, and wants to help you; but when he flatters you, he lies and
deceives you, and does it to fool you, because he wants you to do
something for him, or to get something you have.
Q. How can we tell whether we are being praised or flattered?
A. We must be sharp and know ourselves and what we really can do. Then
we will know whether others are speaking the truth about us.
F. _The Method and Style of the Author._
Question. What do you call a story like this?
Answer. A fable.
Q. Why is it a fable?
A. Because it's short; because animals talk and act like human beings;
because it teaches a good lesson.
Q. Do you call this story "slow"?
A. No. It's a quick, lively one.
Q. What do you think makes it so?
A. There are not too many words; the Fox and the Crow are interesting;
there is a lot of talking; we can see the Fox and the Crow; they act
like human beings.
Q. Are there any good sentences you would like to remember?
A. Yes: "Do not trust flatterers."
G. _Emotional Power._
Question. How did the Fox feel when he saw the Crow with the cheese in
her mouth?
Answer. He was hungry; he wanted the cheese; he made up his mind to get
it.
Q. How did he feel when he was flattering the Crow?
A. He felt jolly; he thought it was fun to fool the Crow.
Q. How did he feel when he got the cheese?
A. He was pleased; he was happy; he did not pity the Crow; he laughed at
the Crow when he gave her advice.
Q. How did the Crow feel when she flew off with the cheese?
A. She was happy.
Q. How did she feel while the Fox was flattering her?
A. She was proud and vain and felt sure she could sing.
Q. When she dropped the cheese?
A. She was disappointed; she was sorry she had tried to sing; she knew
she had been fooled, and was ashamed.
Q. Did she like the advice the Fox gave her?
A. No, but she thought it was good advice.
Q. Do you think the Fox could fool her again?
H. _Conclusion._
Now, read the fable all through just as well as you can. (It is read.)
Now, Harry, you be the Fox, and read just what he says. Clara, be the
Crow, and read just what she says. Tom may be the story teller, and read
just the descriptions. Now, watch your parts so there will be no delay,
and try to speak just as though you are really what you are
representing. Tom may read the first paragraph, and the fourth, but may
omit entirely those words that are not spoken in the other paragraphs.
Begin, Tom.
_The Drummer_
(Volume I, page 303)
The fairy stories of the brothers Grimm are inferior to those of
Andersen in plot, lesson and style. The plots are more monotonous and
sometimes unnecessarily coarse and rough; the lessons are more obscure
and sometimes are of doubtful value; and the style is much less
forcible, in fact is often labored and inelegant. Yet many of the
stories are attractive and harmless. They may be used to make the
transition from fairy tales to more elevated literature. Their very
imperfections can be utilized to discourage the reading of fairy tales
and by criticism and gentle ridicule a child can be led away from that
type of stories which though harmless when read in moderation have been
made so attractive by modern writers that children fancy them too much
and cling to them long after they should be reading things of much
greater value. If children are led to study fairy stories, absurdities
in them soon become tiresome. Ordinarily they read merely for the
excitement in the tale, for the effect it has upon their naturally vivid
imaginations. If they are led to think, to analyze, their intelligence
will quickly call for something more substantial, more nearly true to
life.
_The Drummer_ is one of the best of the Grimm stories and yet some of
their weaknesses are evident. It is inadvisable to talk to small
children of studying a story. They are always delighted to see their
parents interested and will be very glad to "talk over" the story. In
this particular tale there are many points of interest that may be
brought up by skilful questioning and many places where comments may be
made, comments that will show the attitude of the adult mind without
raising opposition on the part of the juvenile reader. Some of the
subjects suggested by a reading of _The Drummer_ are the following:
I. _Characters._ Taken in the order of their appearance in the story the
characters are:
1. The Drummer
2. The King's Daughter
3. The First Giant
4. The Second Giant
5. The Third Giant
6. The Two Men Quarreling
7. The Witch
8. The Drummer's Parents
9. The Maiden
II. _What the Characters Do._
1. The Drummer finds the piece of cloth, goes to the mountain of glass,
deceives the two quarreling men, flies to the top of the mountain,
visits the witch, performs the three tasks, throws the witch in the
fire, goes to his home, kisses his parents on their right cheeks,
forgets the princess, gives her jewels away, gets ready to marry the
maiden, remembers the princess, rewards the maiden and marries the
princess.
2. The King's Daughter asks for her dress, tells the Drummer where she
is confined, helps the Drummer in his three tasks, advises the Drummer
how to destroy the witch, takes the Drummer to his parents, waits in the
field for the Drummer, sings her song three times, forgives and marries
the Drummer.
3. The First Giant talks with the Drummer and carries him through the
woods on his back.
4. The Second Giant carries the Drummer in his button hole.
5. The Third Giant carries the Drummer on his hat.
6. The Two Men quarrel, talk with the Drummer, race to the white staff
and lose the saddle.
7. The Witch gives the Drummer food and shelter, assigns three tasks,
requires the log to be brought from the fire, tries to carry off the
King's Daughter, and dies in the flames.
8. The Drummer's Parents welcome their son, accept the jewels of the
King's Daughter, build a palace, choose a maiden for their son's wife,
but receive the princess in her place.
9. The Maiden is willing to marry the Drummer but is satisfied with his
presents instead.
III. _The Good and the Bad Characters._
1. The Drummer was brave, kind to his parents and loved the princess,
but he tricked the two quarreling men, and disobeyed and forgot the
princess.
2. The King's Daughter was always helpful, faithful and lovable.
3, 4 and 5. The Three Giants were usually cruel but were afraid of the
Drummer and so behaved very well.
6. The Two Men were very unwise to quarrel and perhaps deserved to lose
their saddle.
7. The Witch was cruel, deceitful and always bad, deserving her awful
fate.
8. The Drummer's Parents were good people, for they knew nothing of the
princess when they tried to marry their son to another.
9. The Maiden was a commonplace person who did not really love the
Drummer.
IV. _The Unreal and Magical Things._
1. There are no glass mountains, but an iceberg resembles one.
2. There never were giants as big as fir trees.
3. There never was a saddle that could itself carry anyone anywhere.
4. There never was an old woman who could enchant a maiden.
5. There never was a magic ring that could grant wishes. Fish never
jumped from water and sorted themselves, wood never cut itself nor piled
itself.
6. Never was a princess enchanted into a log and no log ever became a
king's beautiful daughter.
7. It never made any difference in a young man's fortunes if he did kiss
his parents on the right instead of the left cheek.
8. No castle such as this was ever built in a day.
V. _Things that Happen in Threes._
How absurd it is that in fairy stories things so often happen in sets of
three! In this one short story we find:
1. The Drummer saw _three_ pieces of white linen.
2. The Drummer met _three_ giants.
3. The mountain looked as high as if _three_ mountains had been placed
one upon another.
4. On the plain are _three_ things, an old stone house, a large fish
pond and a dark, dreary forest.
5. The Witch did not appear till the Drummer had knocked _three_ times.
6. The Drummer wanted _three_ things, admission, food and a night's
lodging.
7. The Witch assigned _three_ tasks.
8. There were _three_ conditions to the first task, to scoop out the
water, sort the fish, and finish by night.
9. There were _three_ parts to the second task, to cut the trees, to
split them into logs and to stack them.
10. The Witch gave the Drummer _three_ tools with which to accomplish
the second task, an ax, a chopper and a wedge.
11. In the third task there were _three_ steps, to place the wood in a
heap, to set fire to it and to burn it.
12. The Drummer supposed he had been gone _three_ days but it was
_three_ years.
13. The wedding was to take place in _three_ days.
14. The princess sang her song _three_ times.
_Tom, the Water Baby_
(Volume II, page 215)
"This is all a fairy tale, and only fun and pretense; and therefore, you
are not to believe a word of it, even if it is true."
But what a wonderful tale it is; so interesting a story, such a mixture
of fact and fancy, so brimming full of fun and laughter, so touching in
pathos, and so rife with good lessons. Though "you are not to believe a
word of it, even if it is true," there is so much truth in it that you
really cannot keep from believing a great deal of it.
A better comprehension of _Tom, the Water Baby_ among parents will mean
a greater popularity for it among children. The tale is too long for a
full interpretation, but we can offer an analysis which will help to
keep the story in mind, and some illustrations of different meritorious
features.
[Illustration: DONALD G. MITCHELL
JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
EDGAR ALLAN POE
THOMAS BUCHANAN READ
EUGENE FIELD
JOHN HOWARD PAYNE
JOHN G. SAXE]
I. _Analysis._ At first Tom is a real boy, a little grimy, ignorant
chimney sweep, next a water baby or eft, in which character, under the
tutelage of the fairies, he gains his education. Briefly at the end he
is a man, an engineer, but all that is delightfully vague, for he has
ceased to be the little Tom we like so thoroughly.
_Chapters I and II._
Tom, the Chimney Sweep,
Works for Mr. Grimes;
Summoned to sweep the chimney at Hartover Place;
Overtakes the poor Irishwoman, who
Walks with Tom;
Asks about his prayers and makes him sad;
Tells about the sea and makes him wish to be clean;
Helps him pick flowers;
Frightens Grimes for beating Tom,
Warns them both to be clean;
Promises to see them again;
Disappears.
Meets the keeper who warns Grimes against poaching;
Walks up the avenue;
Sees the deer, trees, bees, and makes friends with the keeper;
Enters the house and sweeps chimneys;
Comes out in a beautiful room and sees the little white lady;
Sees himself for the first time and cries;
Escapes from the nurse by window and tree;
Is chased by everybody;
Is lost in the woods;
Scales a wall;
Is followed by the Irishwoman, who throws the pursuers off the scent;
Crosses the river, climbs a mountain;
Descends Lewthwaite Crag;
Drags himself to the cottage;
Begs for water of the dame;
Is given milk, and put in an outhouse;
Is feverish and out of his mind;
Thinks he must be clean;
Drags himself to the stream, looks into the clear water, and undresses;
Does not see the Irishwoman transform herself to the queen of the
fairies;
Tumbles himself into the stream;
Falls asleep in the water;
Is turned into a water-baby by the fairies;
Is mourned as dead by the people who find his poor dirty body.
_Chapters III and IV._
Tom, the Water Baby,
Watches the caddis-flies build their homes (page 262) and go into the
chrysalis state (page 262);
Sees the metamorphosis of the dragon-fly (pages 263-264);
Meets and makes friends with the otters (pages 270-274);
Travels towards the sea after the storm;
Finds the salmon and witnesses the death of Grimes (pages 278-286);
Passes the sleeping villages and reaches the sea;
Greets the seal and looks for water babies;
Plays with the lobsters (pages 292-294);
Is caught by Professor Ptthmllnsprts and shown to Ellie, the little
white lady, who flies away (pages 296-299). (Can you make out what
Kingsley had in mind, by filling in the vowels of the Professor's
name?)
_Chapter V._
Tom, the Water Baby,
Has an adventure in the lobster pots (pages 300-303);
Joins the water babies;
Is met by Mrs. Bedonebyasyoudid, who
Examines Tom;
Rewards the good children;
Punishes those who know no better, viz.:
Tom,
The doctors,
The foolish ladies,
The careless nurserymaids,
The cruel school teachers,
Tells Tom about those who knew better.
Sees Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby, who
Mothers Tom;
Tells him the story.
_Chapter VI._
Tom, the Water Baby,
Steals the candy from the cabinet;
Becomes prickly and ugly from sin;
Confesses to Mrs. Bedonebyasyoudid;
Goes to school to rid himself of his ugliness;
Is taught by the beautiful little girl;
Gains his own smooth, clean skin;
Recognizes the little white lady, Ellie;
Learns how to join Ellie in the beautiful place;
Loses her by being unkind;
Hears the history of the Doasyoulikes;
_Chapter VII._
Tom, the Water Baby,
Starts to go where he does not like, to find Mr. Grimes;
Inquires of the King of the Herrings;
Visits the last of the Gairfowl on the Allalonestone;
Follows Mother Carey's chickens;
Struggles with the water dog;
Is carried by the mollymocks from Jan Mayen's land to Shiny Wall;
Dives under the great white gate that never was opened yet;
Reaches Peace-pool with the dog;
Finds Mother Carey at work making new creatures from sea water;
Is given passport to the Other-End-of-No-where;
Goes backward in safety.
_Chapter VIII._
Tom, the Water Baby,
Comes to the place called Stop;
Is blown through the Sea;
Finds himself in the claws of the bogy;
Sees the metals made;
Slides down the whirlpool;
Swims to the shore of the Other-End-of-No-where;
Finds Gotham;
Comes to the isle of Tomtoddies;
Hears of their great idol, Examination;
Gives information to the nimblecomequick turnip;
Stumbles over the respectable old stick;
Faces Examiner-of-all-Examiners;
Arrives at Oldwivesfabledom;
Comes to the quiet place called Leaveheavenalone;
Sees the prison;
Offers the passport to the truncheon;
Searches for chimney No. 345;
Finds Grimes stuck in the chimney;
Tries to light Grimes' pipe and to release him;
Learns that the old dame teacher was the mother of Grimes;
Sees Grimes' tears effect his release;
Recognizes Mrs. Bedonebyasyoudid as the Irishwoman;
Hears Grimes sentenced to sweep out Aetna;
Is blindfolded and taken up the back stairs;
Recognizes St. Brandon's Isle and hears the song;
Rejoices with Ellie and goes with her Sundays;
Becomes a man of science and knows everything;
And, it may be, marries Ellie.
II. _Fact and Fancy._ The story begins with a vivid description of the
little sweep and his master, and it is not till we have read several
pages that we have reason to suspect that we are reading a fairy story.
In fact the "poor Irishwoman" might be a veritable Irishwoman till we
have read page 247. From this point on, the work of the fairies is seen
occasionally to the end.
The facts of the natural history are mingled with the fancies of the
author's brain in the most natural manner. The description of the
house-building of the caddis larvae (page 262) is accurate enough for a
scientist, who might, however, be shocked by the whimsical notion of the
rivalry told in the last sentence of the paragraph. The otters behave
like otters, the salmon like salmon, the lobster like the lobster he is.
The dragon "splits" at the call of nature, the ephemerae dance in the
sunlight, and game-keepers kill poachers in real life as in the story.
The great auk is extinct and the right whale is still hunted, but
Peace-pool is as fancifully portrayed as is the creation of world-pap.
It appears that as Kingsley proceeded with his story he let his
imagination play more freely and drew farther away from facts as his
fancies came plentifully. So the story furnishes food for thought by old
and young, and parts of it can be understood only by those who have had
considerable study and experience.
III. _Fun and Humor._ A more entertaining story is hard to find. There
are many amusing situations and funny doings, besides which, Kingsley's
style of writing abounds in a rich humor that is not always evident to
the hasty and careless reader. Not a little of the humor is ironical and
sometimes we are inclined to think that the writer may be having a
little quiet fun at the expense of his readers.
Children are inclined to read _Tom, the Water Baby_ as they do many
another tale, for the story only. They want to know what happens to Tom,
whether or no Grimes is punished, what becomes of Ellie, and how it "all
comes out." But when attention is called to the fun in the tale children
will read it more than once, for they like to laugh even better than
their elders, and curiosity prompts them to watch to "see the joke."
The humorous twist to things begins in the second sentence of the story
and it does not disappear permanently till the very last sentence of the
_Moral_. See how it shows in these few extracts: "His master was so
delighted at his new customer that he knocked Tom down out of hand"
(page 219).
After Tom's pathetic discovery of his own dirtiness (page 232), comes
this: "With a noise as of ten thousand tin kettles tied to ten thousand
mad dogs' tails." Humor and pathos are both strengthened by the violent
contrast.
On page 232 begins the long humorous paragraph descriptive of the chase
after Tom.
"The birches birched him as soundly as if he had been a nobleman at
Eton, and over the face too (which is not fair swishing, as all brave
boys will agree)" (page 235).
What could you imagine more amusing in its way than the extremely absurd
"argument" the author makes for the existence of water babies (page
254): "You never heard of a water baby? Perhaps not. That is the very
reason why this story was written. There are a great many things in the
world which you never heard of; and a great many more which nobody ever
heard of; and a great many things, too, which nobody ever will hear of.
No water babies, indeed! Why, wise men of old said that everything on
earth had its double in the water; and you may see that that is, if not
quite true, still quite as true as most other theories which you are
likely to hear for many a day. There are land babies, then why not water
babies? _Are there not water rats, water flies, water crickets, water
crabs, water tortoises, water scorpions, water tigers and so on without
end?_ To be sure, there must be water babies. Am I in earnest? Oh dear
no!"
Read the account of the policemen, beginning on page 306, for an example
of a broader humor.
Page 347: "And the sun acted policeman, and worked round outside every
day, peeping just over the top of the icewall, to see that all went
right; and now and then he played conjuring tricks, or had an exhibition
of fireworks, to amuse the sea fairies. For he would make himself into
four or five suns at once, or paint the sky with rings and crosses and
crescents of white fire and stick himself in the middle of them, and
wink at the fairies; and I dare say they were very much amused, for
anything's fun in the country."
Do not think of "skipping" the _Moral_. No more attractive "moral" was
ever written for fable or fairy tale!
IV. _Pathos._ Tom, the Chimney Sweep is always pathetic. He enlists our
sympathies wholly from the time we meet him where there was "plenty of
money for Tom to earn and his master to spend," until he "pulled off all
his clothes in such haste that he tore some of them, which was easy
enough with such ragged old things," "put his poor, hot, sore feet into
the water," "tumbled himself as quick as he could into the clear, cool
stream" and in two minutes "fell fast asleep, into the quietest,
sunniest, coziest sleep that he had ever had in his life and--dreamt of
nothing at all." It is only as Tom the Water Baby that he does not make
us sad.
Poor little, dirty, ignorant Tom! Little enough to climb up the sooty
chimney flues; so dirty that he knew not what cleanliness meant; so
ignorant that he "never had heard of God, or of Christ, except in words
which you never have heard," and his idea of happiness was to "sit in a
public house with a quart of beer and a long pipe," to play cards for
silver money, to "keep a white bull dog with one gray ear, and carry
her puppies in his pocket just like a man," to have apprentices and to
bully them, to knock them about and make them carry soot sacks while he
"rode before them on his donkey, with a pipe in his mouth and a flower
in his button hole, like a king at the head of his army!" "Yes, when his
master let him have a pull at the leavings of his beer, Tom was the
jolliest boy in the whole town."
To him who reads understandingly, there is pathos on nearly every page
of the first two chapters. Sometimes it is seen in hints and shown by
indirection but in other instances it is direct, positive, powerful.
Just read (page 231), how Tom learns that he is naught but a "little
black ape," an "ugly, black, ragged figure with bleared eyes and
grinning white teeth."
In his terrible race for life he "thought he heard church bells ringing
a long way off" and thought "where there is a church there will be
houses and people," and perhaps someone will give him a "bit and a sup."
So he follows the ringing in his ears till he comes to the top of the
great crag and sees "a mile off and a thousand feet down" the old dame
in her garden. We lose our own breath in following him down that awful
descent, find ourselves panting, and at last, suddenly, "b-e-a-t, beat!"
After the old dame has given him the old rug and bidden him sleep off
his weariness, comes the fever with the ringing of the church bells and
the persistent, agonizing thought, "I must be clean, I must be clean."
It is this that drives him out to the "clear, clear limestone water,
with every pebble at the bottom bright and clean" the cool, cool, cool
water for his weary feet.
Then when it is too late, just to add to the pathos of the sad little
tale, comes the Squire, conscious of the terrible mistake and ready to
put Tom in the way of cleanliness, knowledge and happiness; Tom, of whom
there remained only the husk and shell which made the Squire think the
poor sweep was drowned.
To close the chapter and the sad part of the story, the dame sings the
old, old song which the children could not understand but which they
liked nevertheless, "for it was very sweet and very sad and that was
enough for them." We know what it means.
"When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among;
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young."
V. _Beauty. Tom, the Water Baby_ has in it much more of real beauty both
in sentiment and expression than most prose and more than many a
charming poem. There is little of ugliness in the story, and what there
is, is so softened in the way in which it is presented that the
impression is neither repulsive nor lasting. Kingsley's work is highly
artistic and this story is real literature.
Some of his descriptions are like beautiful pictures in color. Here is
one from page 220:
"But soon the road grew white, and the walls likewise; and at the wall's
foot grew long grass and gay flowers, all drenched with dew; and instead
of the groaning of the pit engines, they heard the skylark saying his
matins high up in the air, and the pit bird warbling in the sedges as he
had warbled all night long."
Beginning at the bottom of the same page (220): "For old Mrs. Earth was
still fast asleep; and, like many pretty people she looked still
prettier asleep than awake. The great elm trees in the gold-green
meadows were fast asleep above, and the cows fast asleep beneath them;
nay, the few clouds which were about were fast asleep likewise, and so
tired that they had lain down on the earth to rest, in long white flakes
and bars, among the stems of the elm trees, and along the tops of the
alders by the stream, waiting for the sun to bid them rise and go about
their day's business in the clear blue overhead." Was there ever more
attractive description of the mist patches that lie across the earth
waiting for the morning sun to dissipate them?
The poor Irishwoman followed Tom in this manner: "She went along quite
smoothly and gracefully, while her feet twinkled past each other so fast
that you could not see which was foremost."
The dragon-fly is described in this way: "It grew strong and firm; the
most lovely colors began to show on its body--blue and yellow and black,
spots and bars and rings; out of its back rose four great wings of
bright brown gauze; and its eyes grew so large that they filled all its
head and shone like ten thousand diamonds."
This is Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby: "She was a very tall woman, as tall
as her sister; but instead of being gnarly, and horny, and scaly, and
prickly, like her, she was the most nice, soft, fat, smooth, pussy,
cuddly, delicious creature who ever nursed a baby--and all her delight
was to play with babies--and therefore when the children saw her, they
naturally caught hold of her, and pulled her till she sat down on a
stone, and climbed into her lap, and clung round her neck, and caught
hold of her hands, and then they all put their thumbs into their mouths
and began cuddling and purring like so many kittens."
And this is a scene in Peace-pool: "There were moths with pink heads and
wings and opal bodies, that flapped about slowly; moths with brown wings
that flapped about quickly; yellow shrimps that hopped and skipped most
quickly of all; and jellies of all the colors in the world that neither
hopped nor skipped, but only dawdled and yawned."
Here are a few descriptive phrases taken at random: "Two great, grand
blue eyes, as blue as the sea itself"; "his little whirl-about of a
head"; "long curls floating behind her like a golden cloud, and long
robes floating all round her like a silver one"; "came paddling and
wriggling back to her like so many tadpoles"; "the shadows of the clouds
ran races over the bright blue sky"; "the river widened to the shining
sea"; "such enormous trees that the blue sky rested on their heads."
VI. _Good Lessons._ Through all the fun, the burlesque, the amusing
exaggerations and the bombastic humor runs a scheme of advice and
instruction. Sometimes it takes the form of a direct caution to the
reader, again it may be shown by inference, and lastly the events speak
for themselves and give their own lesson. The author meant to teach
adults as well as children. The graphic history of the Doasyoulikes is
rather a clear-cut study in degeneracy for older people, as well as a
lively warning for youngsters. But what is the author's main theme? Is
his real text in the advice the poor Irishwoman gives to Grimes and Tom?
"_Those that wish to be clean, clean they will be; and those that wish
to be foul, foul they will be. Remember._" (page 225). Perhaps a second
text or at least a corollary to this is expressed in the name of the
cuddly lady, Mrs. Doasyouwouldbedoneby. This may mean the same as the
advice she gives on page 328: "_Those who go there must go first where
they do not like, and do what they do not like, and help somebody they
do not like._" Besides these leading ideas there are several others that
run through the story. Meanness and wickedness are made unattractive and
bring punishment. The punishment grows logically out of the offense and
has a direct relation to the misdeed. Persons are not rewarded for their
good deeds but they are happy in being good. It is not a credit to do
right, but wrongdoing is discreditable. Little meannesses stand in the
way of happiness though they may not bring any definite punishments.
Evil is ugliness, goodness is beauty. Friendship is made attractive and
filial love is strongly inculcated. The strong appeal made to the
sympathy of the reader by the very real and very human Tom, the chimney
sweep, is a strong influence for good, and progress toward character in
the clever little water baby is a continuous refining influence on the
reader.
The bits of advice, the little asides, are slipped into the text so
naturally that they are never repulsive or calculated to raise
antagonism in the minds of those who naturally dislike advice. Taken
from the text they seem more formal and less helpful, but here are a few
of them as illustrations:
"Let well alone, lad, and ill too at times."
"You must expect to be beat a few times in your life, little man, if you
live such a life as a man ought to live."
"Ah, first thoughts are best, and a body's heart'll guide them right, if
they will but hearken to it."
"It was not quite well bred, no doubt; but you know, Tom had not
finished his education yet."
"For salmon, like other true gentlemen, always choose their lady and
love her, and are true to her, and take care of her, and work for her,
and fight for her, as every true gentleman ought."
"What has been once can never come over again."
"No more to be bought for money than a good conscience or the Victoria
cross."
"You see, experience is of very little good unless a man, or a lobster,
has wit enough to make use of it."
"It is not good for little boys to be told everything, and never to be
forced to use their own wits."
"And so if you do not know that things are wrong, that is no reason why
you should not be punished for them; though not as much, my little man
(and the lady looked very kindly, after all), as if you did know."
"I am quite sure that she knows best. Perhaps she wishes people to learn
to keep their fingers out of the fire by having them burned."
"I always forgive people the minute they tell me the truth of their own
accord."
"But even they were no foolisher than some hundred scores of papas and
mamas; who fetch the rod when they ought to fetch a new toy, and send to
the dark cupboard instead of to a doctor."
VII. _Life-like Characters._ The great storyteller makes his characters
seem like human beings. The reader can almost see them; at any rate, he
feels that he knows them and that they are real, not merely life-like.
It is hard to understand how the author accomplishes the wonderful feat
(for it is the most wonderful thing about story writing), and it is much
more difficult to tell how it is done. One word here, a clear
descriptive phrase there, and Tom, or the Squire, or the old
schoolmistress, or Mrs. Bedonebyasyoudid with her awkward name, has
become so much of a personality that you cannot forget if you would.
Certainly one of the fine things about _Tom, the Water Baby_ is the
living reality of its characters, which appeals universally to young and
old, even in the first reading of the story.
VIII. _The Writer's Art._ It will add something to a child's interest in
the story if his attention is called to the skilful way in which
Kingsley handles his plot. It is high _art_ to throw into the early part
of the story the conversation between the keeper and Grimes. It shows
that Grimes is a poacher and known to be one. The keeper is inclined to
wink at the offense, but still he feels that a warning is necessary.
Nothing more is said about poaching till much later, where Tom, the
Water Baby, sees Grimes meet a poacher's death.
Again, it is early evident that Grimes has done other wicked things and
that the poor Irishwoman knows of one at least. She even mentions
Vendale, but the reader attaches no importance to it. Tom flees to
Vendale and is pitied and kindly treated by the old Schoolmistress, but
it is not until Tom finds Grimes suffering his punishment in the chimney
flues that the reader learns what the poor Irishwoman knew about Grimes,
and that the schoolmistress was Grimes's poor ill-treated mother.
Once more, Kingsley's art is seen in the selection of incidents and the
arrangement of influences which bring to Tom the conviction of his
dirtiness and create in him the overpowering desire to be clean.
But this interpretation of _Tom, the Water Baby_ has already reached the
limits of space and we must forego the pleasure of pointing out other
examples of artistic treatment. Probably it is better to leave the story
to plead its own cause.
_The Passing of Arthur_
(Volume V, page 237)
While the outline differs in form from those we have been using, it is a
helpful variation, and shows that while a narrative poem must be studied
first in the same manner as a story, there are still other points that
need careful examination.
Tennyson's _The Passing of Arthur_ is one of the noble things in
literature, solemn, impressive, inspiring. In order to appreciate a
careful study of it, one should have read at least those selections
which appear in the fifth volume, beginning with page 113 and extending
to page 236. With this preliminary setting there should be no difficulty
in feeling a sufficient interest in King Arthur to be appreciative of
Tennyson's work from the very beginning.
a. _Characters._ Three characters appear in this poem, viz: King Arthur;
Sir Bedivere, the knight first made and last surviving of all those who
sat about King Arthur's table; Modred, Arthur's traitorous nephew.
Besides these three human characters, the ghost of Gawain, the three
queens who came in the barge, and even Excalibur itself are of so much
interest that they may be considered as almost human.
King Arthur is shown in his old age, when wife and friend are traitor to
his peace, and all his realm has sunk back into disorder and is rapidly
approaching extinction.
Bedivere, oldest of the knights, now in the white winter of his age,
when he himself was really no more than a voice, is supposed to tell the
story to those with whom he dwelt, new faces, other minds.
Modred is seen retreating league by league before King Arthur. At
Lyonnesse, after a fierce battle in which confusion reigned and friends
and foes were shadows in the mist, he meets his king. The false knight
strikes Arthur hard upon the helmet, and gives the wound that finally
proves fatal; while the king, with the last stroke of Excalibur, slays
his traitorous nephew.
The dead Gawain appears, a ghost blown along a wandering wind, and on
the eve of the battle warns King Arthur of approaching death, but
intimates that somewhere is an isle of rest for him.
b. _The Incidents._
1. Arthur mourns for his departed kingdom.
2. Gawain warns Arthur of his approaching death; Arthur is depressed
by the warning.
3. Bedivere warns Arthur that he must rise and conquer Modred;
Arthur hesitates to make war against his people.
4. He moves his host to Lyonnesse: the last weird battle is fought.
5. Arthur thinks himself king only among the dead.
6. Bedivere professes affection, and calls Arthur's attention to the
traitor, Modred.
7. The king promises one last act of kinghood.
8. Modred wounds the king; the king kills Modred.
9. Bedivere carries the wounded Arthur to the ruined chapel.
10. The dying Arthur directs Bedivere to throw Excalibur into the
mere; Bedivere twice deceives Arthur and is twice reproved.
11. Bedivere throws Excalibur into the mere, and tells King Arthur
what happened.
12. Bedivere bears Arthur to the margin of the mere.
13. The three black-hooded queens with crowns of gold come in the
dusky barge.
14. Arthur is placed in the barge and speaks his last words to
Bedivere; the barge moves swan-like from the brink.
15. Bedivere watches the speck that bears the king move down the long
water opening on the deep.
c. _Scenes._
1. Arthur in his tent among the slumbering host.
2. The march to the sunset bound of Lyonnesse, and the moving
pageant to the battlefield.
3. The dark strait of barren land with the ocean on one side and on
the other the great water; the ruined chapel with its broken
chancel and broken cross, and, near at hand, the place of tombs
with its bones of ancient mighty men; athwart all shines the
moon, and over all the chill wind with flakes of foam sings
shrilly. Zigzag paths lead around jutting points of rock down to
the shining levels of the lake, where the ripple washes softly in
the reeds, the wild water laps the crags, and many-knotted
water-flags whistle stiff and dry. Frozen hills, barren chasms
with icy caves, the bare black cliff and slippery crag wall, and
the level lake gleaming in the glories of the winter moon.
d. _Descriptive Passages._ Besides those passages which relate
especially to the scenes, there are other beautiful and powerful bits of
description that will well repay examination. For instance:
1. Of King Arthur's dream the poet says,
"And fainter onward, like wild birds that change
Their season in the night and wail their way
From cloud to cloud, down the long wind the dream
Shrill'd."
Note the figure of speech (simile), beginning with the word
_like_.
2. The description of the last, dim, weird battle in the west,
beginning at the bottom of page 240 with the line "A death-white
mist slept over land and sea," is one of the most stirring things
in the poem, and deserves particularly close reading. The
pictures are crowded, the figures vivid, the phrases full of
force.
3. Tennyson has used his highest art in the composition, and makes
the sound of his lines imitate in no feeble way the noise of
battle. For instance:
"Shocks, and the splintering spear, the hard mail hewn,
Shield-breakings, and the clash of brands, the crash
Of battle-axes on shatter'd helms, and shrieks
After the Christ, of those who falling down
Look'd up for heaven, and only saw the mist."
4. The brilliancy of description corresponds well with the
glittering marvel of Excalibur:
"For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks,
Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth-work
Of subtlest jewelry."
".....the wonder of the hilt,
How curiously and strangely chased,"
"The great brand
Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon,
And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch,
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn,
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock
By night, with noises of the Northern Sea."
5. King Arthur, as he lay in the barge with his weary head upon the
lap of the fairest and tallest of the three queens, is described
as follows:
"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,
Mix'd 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."
_e. Character Study_--King Arthur. The best estimate of King Arthur's
character is made from his own words and those of Bedivere, not from
Tennyson's description.
1. He has been a devout man. He has fought for Christ and searched
for Christ and
"found Him in the shining of the stars,
Mark'd Him in the flowering of His fields."
2. He is now discouraged. He has not found Him in His ways with men,
and now it seems to him,
"As if some lesser god had made the world,
But had not force to shape it as he would."
"My God, thou hast forgotten me in my death."
3. Yet he is hopeful, and he feels that perchance the world is
wholly fair, and that his doubts come because he has not the
power to see it as it is, and may not see it to the close.
4. He desires to be just, and feels that in the coming battle in the
west he may not have the right on his side:
"Ill doom is mine
To war against my people and my knights.
The king who fights his people fights himself."
5. Yet courage and confidence are not all gone:
"Yet let us hence, and find or feel a way
Thro' this blind haze."
6. After the battle, he grows more confused:
"I know not what I am,
Nor whence I am, nor whether I be King.
Behold, I seem but King among the dead."
7. He must be noble, kingly, to have inspired such devotion as
Bedivere shows. Hear what the latter says:
"My King,
King everywhere! and so the dead have kings,
There also will I worship thee as King."
8. He is a warrior to the last. Listen to his reply to Bedivere:
"King am I, whatsoever be their cry;
And one last act of kinghood shalt thou see
Yet, ere I pass."
9. He is resigned: "Let what will be, be."
10. He is faithful to the trust imposed upon him when he acquired
Excalibur. Three times he sends Bedivere to cast the sword into
the mere. The last time he says:
"But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur,
I will arise and slay thee with my hands."
11. He loves truth and reveres it:
"This is a shameful thing for men to lie."
12. Though he appears to fear death, rather is his fear that he shall
die before he reaches the water where he expects something.
13. At the last his philosophy bears him up, though still he calls
for devotion from his faithful knight. The whole speech is
matchless. Note these fine passages:
"The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways."
"And that which I have done
May He within himself make pure!"
"More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day."
"The whole round earth is everyway
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God."
14. His faith rises triumphant:
"I am going a long way ...
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns
And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea,
Where I will heal me of my grievous wound."
_f. Beauty._ All the elements of poetic beauty join to make _The Passing
of Arthur_ a masterpiece. Sublime sentiment thrills through the stanzas.
A stately meter gives a solemn, rhythmic swing to the noble lines.
Sonorous words add to the grandeur. Apt phrases and beautiful figures of
speech seize the imagination and enchain the fancy. Rare and choice
diction gives artistic finish to every sentence.
Most beautiful are such phrases as the following:
"The phantom circle of a moaning sea."
"Some whisper of the seething sea."
"Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful."
"Let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day."
"And looking wistfully with wide blue eyes
As in a picture."
"Clothed with his breath."
"A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars."
Note how the following phrases give color to the poem:
"that day when the great light of heaven
Burn'd at his lowest in the rolling year."
"Among the mountains by the winter sea."
"The winter moon,
Brightening the skirts of a long cloud."
Observe the pictorial power of these quotations:
"Make broad thy shoulders to receive my weight."
"Straining his eyes beneath an arch of hand."
"One black dot against the verge of dawn."
Most forceful are the following phrases:
"And the days darken round me, and the years,
Among new men, strange faces, other minds."
"From the great deep to the great deep he goes."
"Authority forgets a dying king."
"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."
There never was a more beautiful comparison than the following:
"Like some full-breasted swan
That, fluting a wild carol ere her death,
Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood
With swarthy webs."
FOOTNOTES:
[189-1] _Haec fabula docet_ means _This fable teaches_. It is with these
words that the "Morals" of the old Latin fables begin.
CHAPTER IX
CLOSE READING OR STUDY
It is largely because story reading may so easily become careless
reading, that prejudice against fiction is found in many minds. In the
preceding pages there have been suggested many ways by which story
reading may be made profitable, and yet all these methods may be used
without calling for that close, intensive reading which we usually call
study. You may lead a child to read _Rab and His Friends_ for all the
purposes we have suggested, and yet he may have passed over without
understanding them many a word, phrase or even sentence. It is possible
that there are whole paragraphs that convey little meaning to him. This
is certainly not an unmixed evil, for it is well that a child should not
exhaust the possibilities of such a masterpiece when he first reads it.
In fact, it is a good thing for children frequently to read great
literature even when much of it is quite beyond their comprehension. It
will pique their curiosity, and some time they will return with wiser
minds and broader experience to interpret for themselves the things that
once were obscure. It is no sin for a child sometimes to pass over a
word he cannot pronounce or does not understand. There could be few more
certain ways of destroying his taste for reading than to require him to
stop and find the meaning of every new word he meets. Sometimes the
meaning will become evident a little later from the context, and in
other instances he will understand well enough without the troublesome
word.
What has been said does not signify that the habit of skipping new words
or of avoiding difficult paragraphs is a good one. It does mean,
however, that sometimes the practice should be tolerated, and that close
reading should be required at the proper time and in the proper way. In
the arithmetic or geography lesson the young must always read very
closely, and in their perusal of the classics there are many fine
opportunities for exercises of the same character, that should not be
neglected. Descriptive passages, arguments, and essays of all kinds
require to be read with exceeding care, and often there are passages
even in light fiction that repay this kind of study.
Words and phrases are the subjects of consideration in close reading,
and the mastery of thought is the object to be attained. The study of
words may be made very interesting, and gathering the meaning of phrases
may become a fascinating pastime.
An illustration may prove the case. Take the paragraph from _Rab and His
Friends_ (Volume VI, page 99) in which death approaches Ailie: "The end
was drawing on: the golden bowl was breaking; the silver cord was fast
being loosed--that _animula blandula, vagula, hospes comesque_ was about
to flee. The body and the soul--companions for sixty years--were being
sundered and taking leave. She was walking, alone, through the valley of
the shadow, into which one day we must all enter--and yet she was not
alone, for we knew whose rod and staff were comforting her."
A cursory reading will suggest to any young person that the paragraph
says Ailie is going to die, and that she does not fear death; but how
much more it means to him who can understand it all. _The end was
drawing on_--Ailie was going to her death. _The golden bowl was
breaking; the silver cord was fast being loosed._ Turn to your Bible
(_Ecclesiastes_ xii, 3-7), and read what is said. _That "animula
blandula, vagula, hospes comesque" was about to flee._ That sweet but
fleeting life, friend, companion and sojourner with her, was about to
leave. _She was walking alone through the valley of the shadow._ "Yea,
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil." _Into which one day we must all enter._ May we be equally
fearless of evil! _She was not alone._ Her God was with her every
moment, and in her hours of consciousness she knew Him to be present.
_We knew whose rod and staff were comforting her._ "Thy rod and Thy
staff they comfort me."
Like the Psalmist of old she leaned upon the arm of her God and as she
thus approached the dark valley, the light of her faith shone into our
souls.
The Latin quotation and the allusions to the Bible are skilfully used to
give solemnity to the idea of death, to show how inevitable it is, and
how for long ages it has been met with the same serene faith and deep
religious feeling that made Ailie beautiful in the face of death. Yes,
there is more in the paragraph than the statement that Ailie was going
to die and that she was not afraid.
To illustrate a different style of close reading and a method of
securing it by questioning, we will quote part of a paragraph from
_Braddock's Defeat_ (Volume V, page 379) by Benjamin Franklin: "Our
Assembly apprehending, from some information, that he [Braddock] had
conceived violent prejudices against them, as averse to the service,
wished me to wait upon him, not as from them, but as postmaster-general,
under the guise of proposing to settle with him the mode of conducting
with most celerity and certainty the despatches between him and the
governors of the several provinces with whom he must necessarily have
continual correspondence, and of which they proposed to bear the
expense."
The questions designed to bring out the meaning of the above paragraph,
to which the answers are usually quite obvious, might be as follows:
Is "our Assembly" the Albany convention mentioned in the note at the
head of the selection, or is it the Assembly of Franklin's own colony?
What is the meaning of _apprehending_? Do you like it better than
_thinking_? What do you suppose was the nature of the "information" the
Assembly had received? Do you think that someone had told them that
Braddock was prejudiced, or did they infer it from actions of Braddock
which had been described to them? Who was averse to it? What is the
meaning of "wait upon him"? Do we use that phrase frequently now? What
might we say now? What do you understand by "not as from them"? Can you
put into that phrase one word that will make its meaning clear? Was
Franklin then postmaster-general of his colony? Was he ever
postmaster-general of the United States? What is the meaning of _guise_?
What is meant by "under the guise"? Does _celerity_ mean more than
_quickness_? Is there any shade of difference in the meanings of the two
words? Do you think Franklin used the best word he could find when he
wrote _celerity_? What are "despatches"? What kind of despatches would
pass between Braddock and the governors of the different provinces? How
many different provinces were there for Braddock to help defend? What
were they? Who proposed to pay the expense? Does _propose_ in this case
have a different or larger meaning than that in which you are in the
habit of seeing it used? Of what did they propose to pay the expense?
If a young person can answer all the questions in the preceding
paragraph, he undoubtedly understands the passage upon which they are
based. The questioner must watch the answers and be ready to detect
mistakes. Often the answer shows why the person fails to understand, and
a different question will then bring out the correct reply. The
questions always should be so worded that they do not anticipate the
answer, yet so the person questioned will thoroughly understand what is
expected. A little help now and then is appreciated by anyone, certainly
by those who are being led to think.
Carried to excess, close reading is wearisome; and parents, remembering
this, should be discriminating in their selections for study and not too
exacting in their requirements. Everything may be lost by dwelling too
long upon even the most delightful selections. Left to himself, almost
every child will be fond of _The Village Blacksmith_, but it may be
read and "studied" till the very thought of it is obnoxious to the young
reader.
_Industry and Sloth_
(Volume I, page 300)
To bring out the thought in this selection, study it as follows:
What is the meaning of _jocosely_? (Flippantly.) What is a court? (A
place where disputes between persons are settled by a judge, or by a
judge and jury.) What is a jury? (A company of men, usually six or
twelve, who hear the evidence and decide on the facts.) What are cases?
(The dispute or disagreement is called a _case_, when it is brought to
court to be decided or settled.) What are damsels? (Young girls.) What
were the names of the young damsels the young man said he saw? Why do
the words "Industry" and "Sloth" begin with capital letters? (Because
they are the names of girls.) Were they real girls? What does _industry_
mean? (Work.) What does _sloth_ mean? (Laziness.) Were these real girls?
Then what does this mean? (The young man thinks of fondness for work and
fondness for idleness as though they were girls.) When we write of
qualities, or feelings, as though they were human beings, the words
become proper nouns and we begin them with capital letters. Do you know
what we call this process of lifting something that is lower to the
level of human beings? No? We call it _personification_. Here industry
and sloth are personified and made the equals of human beings. What does
_entreats_ mean? What does _persuades_ mean? (That means _teases_ or
_begs_.) Which is the stronger word, entreats or persuades? (_Entreats_
means _begs strongly_; _persuades_ means _begs and makes me believe what
is said_. I think the latter is really the stronger word.) What does
_alternately_ mean? (First one and then the other.) What does
_impartial_ mean? (Fair; without any favoritism.) What does _detained_
mean? (Kept.) What does _pleadings_ mean? (Where a case is tried in
court the lawyers on each side try to persuade the court or jury to
decide in favor of the man [client] who has hired them. The written
papers and the speeches the lawyers make are called _pleadings_.)
Do you think the young man was really serious? Do you think he really
tried to decide anything as he lay in bed, or was he just trying to make
up an excuse for his laziness? Was there any reason why the young man
should lie in bed? Did he think there was? Could you find any better
reason than he gave? Do you think he was a bright young man? If you had
listened to him would you have taken his excuse? Why? Was it really
truthful? Did you ever lie in bed and think, "Well, I must get up; no,
I'll lie a little longer. But I must get up. What's the use? But I ought
to get up. Yes, I really ought to get up," etc., etc., and finally
discover that you had wasted a great deal of time without really
intending it? Were Industry and Sloth pleading with you then? Do you
think that some people waste much time trying to decide useless
questions? Does it sometimes happen that men and women waste so much
time in this way that they never accomplish a great deal of anything?
_Why the Sea Is Salt_
(Volume II, page 484)
In this pleasing fairy story Mary Howitt has told the tale of the
curious explanation offered by the peasants of Denmark and Norway for
the saltness of the sea. It naturally raises in a child's mind the
question, why is the sea salt? The question can be answered in this
manner:
The rain falls down in little drops, some of which soak into the ground,
while others make rivulets that run into brooks that in time join the
rivers that flow into the sea. Much of the water that soaks into the
ground finds its way again to the surface in springs that feed the
brooks and keep them alive when no rain is falling. Of course the sun
when it shines turns some of the water into vapor that rises again to
the sky. Sometimes on a cool morning you can see the mist or vapor too
heavy to rise out of sight and too light to fall as rain. Wherever there
is water, some of it is rising into the air, especially when the sun
shines and it is warm and the wind blows. The sea is so big that great
quantities of vapor are rising from it all the time and being blown over
the land to be cooled, to gather into rain and to fall again where it
will refresh the earth and make the plants grow.
So you see water is traveling through the air all the time, up from the
earth, the streams and the seas, through the air, back to the earth and
through it into the sea again in a great series of everlasting circuits.
We are hardly ever conscious of the moisture except when it falls as
rain or snow and spoils our plans.
When the water is passing through the land it dissolves and gathers up
various substances, especially salt, which "melts" in water very easily.
This salt and the other bitter and brackish substances are carried
little by little, sometimes pausing, but always on and on till they
reach the sea, beyond which they cannot go, for the sea is in the lowest
parts of the earth. Now come the sun, the heat and the winds and
evaporate the water; that is, draw up the vapor to start on its new
circuit. But, notice this, the vapor that rises is pure water. The salt
and other substances are left in the sea. At first it was only a little
that was left, then more, always a little more till the water couldn't
hold it all and it sank to the bottom and made deposits of salt and
other things. But the streams always bring more sediment and the heat
and the winds carry off pure water and leave the rest salty and bitter.
And that is the real reason why the sea is salt.
_Faithless Sally Brown_
(Volume III, page 92)
It is a thankless task to try to explain a joke, but some of the fun in
these jolly old rhymes depends upon facts that are not generally known
or that may have been forgotten. A few words here may help to answer
questions.
Stanza II. "Fetched a walk." This is an application of a nautical term,
as in "to fetch headway."
"Press Gang." To secure recruits for her navy, England at one time
permitted her men to be seized and forcibly carried on board ship, where
they were compelled to perform sailors' duties on long cruises. The
bands of cruel men who captured the recruits were known as "press
gangs."
Stanza III. A boatswain is one of the minor officers of a ship. He
usually has charge of one of the small boats, such as would carry off a
recruit to the big ship.
Stanza VIII. John Benbow was a famous English Admiral who died in 1702
from wounds received in a four days' fight with the French fleet in the
West Indies. His captains refused to obey orders and Benbow was unable
to win the battle. When his right leg was shot off he refused to go
below but continued to direct the conflict from the deck. "I had rather
have lost both legs," he said, "than have seen this dishonor brought on
the English nation. But, hark ye--if another shot should take me off,
behave like men and fight it out." Two of his captains were tried,
convicted and shot. The Admiral himself died after three or four months
of suffering.
Stanza IX. A tender is a ship that carries supplies or conveys messages
from one to another of the ships in a squadron.
Stanza XI. "The Virgin and the Scales." The Virgin (Virgo) and the
Scales (Libra) are two constellations known to the ancients. A person
born while these constellations were to be seen in the sky (from near
the end of August to near the end of October) was said to be born under
them and was believed to have certain characteristics. In the case of
Sally Brown the stars were cruel. She could not follow her beau, Ben,
but must walk about raising her voice in wailing.
Stanza XV. "To pipe his eye" is a slang phrase meaning to look sharply.
Stanza XVI. "_All's Well_," the usual cry of a watchman, not the name of
a song.
"Pigtail" was a kind of chewing tobacco much used by sailors. It was
twisted in hard rolls.
_The Definition of a Gentleman_
(Volume IV, page 170)
There is nothing in _Journeys Through Bookland_ that will better repay
thought, especially for the boys, than this extract from the writings of
the great Cardinal Newman. It affords, however, a host of little tests
of character that everyone can apply to himself; for "gentleman," here,
is used in its generic sense and applies with equal force to both sexes.
It is not to be read hastily and then laid aside, for no one can get its
full meaning from a single perusal. Every word is a chapter, every
sentence a volume. Read properly, each sentence must carry with it a
personal application, which can be seen as the reader asks, "Is this
what I am?"
Am I then, one who never gives pain?
Am I mainly occupied in removing the obstacles that hinder the action of
my friends and acquaintances? Am I the easy chair that gives them bodily
comfort, the good fire that dispels the cold and makes them comfortable
and free to act?
Do I try always to make everyone at ease and at home?
Am I
--tender toward the bashful?
--gentle toward those who are cold and reserved?
--merciful to those whose actions draw ridicule upon themselves?
In conversation, do I recollect those to whom I am speaking, avoid
irritating them, keep myself in the background, talk little myself and
listen attentively to them?
If I can put to myself each of the tests Cardinal Newman offers in these
few pages and can feel myself ring true under each, then may I hope to
call myself a gentleman.
_Adventures in Lilliput_
(Volume V, page 8)
In _Gulliver's Travels_ Swift has given us a wonderful work in
constructive imagination. As has been said elsewhere, the imagination
works with the ideas which are present in the mind. It creates nothing,
but it may enlarge, diminish or recombine ideas with an infinity of
form. In _Adventures in Lilliput_ Swift has used largely the reducing
power of his imagination. If he has been accurate, he has reduced
everything in the same proportion. An interesting study of this phase of
the story may be made by means of questions, which may be answered by
reading the text, or by reasoning from the facts given.
In the following exercise, questions and comments are combined in such a
way as to assist a boy or girl to verify or disprove the accuracy of
Swift's work. A similar exercise, to illustrate the opposite extreme,
may be based upon _Adventures in Brobdingnag_ (page 54). It is hoped,
too, that the questions may suggest a method for interpreting other
selections.
When Gulliver awoke and found himself bound (page 10), he felt something
alive moving on his body. Bending his eyes downward as much as he could
he saw it was a human creature not six inches high. We are at liberty to
suppose that Gulliver was a man of ordinary height, that is to say, not
six feet high. If the Lilliputian was "not six inches high," what was
the ratio of height between Gulliver and his miniature captors? If,
then, Gulliver is twelve times the size of one of his captors, we have a
standard of comparison.
How long a bow would a man use? How long would be the arrow that fitted
that bow? How long would the bows and arrows of the Lilliputians be?
Would an arrow that size, fired with the force a Lilliputian could give,
"prick like a needle," and if there were many of them would they set a
man "a-groaning with grief and pain"?
If a man were lying flat on his back could he turn his eyes down so as
to see a pencil, not six inches high, placed upright on his breast? When
a man's face was turned two inches to the left, how much of the ground
would be concealed from his sight by his shoulder?
How far can a man shoot an arrow? How far could a Lilliputian shoot an
arrow? Would an arrow the size of a Lilliputian's falling from the
height to which he could shoot it pierce the skin of a man?
How long were the spears of the Lilliputians? Is it reasonable to
suppose that a leather jerkin would be proof against their spears? How
tall was the page that held up the train of the "principal person."
(page 12)?
How many times the height of a Lilliputian was the body of Gulliver as
he lay on the ground? How many rounds would there be in one of the
ladders on which they climbed? "Above one hundred inhabitants" mounted
the ladders and walked toward Gulliver's mouth. They carried baskets
filled with meat. Would the quantity of meat be too large for Gulliver
to eat? Would the shoulders, legs and loins of a sheep one-twelfth the
height of an ordinary one be "smaller than the wings of a lark"? Would
loaves of bread the "bigness of musket balls" be one-twelfth the size of
ordinary loaves?
In the case of two vessels of the same proportions, but of different
heights, do the capacities vary according to the heights, or according
to the cubes of the heights? If one of our hogsheads contain from one
hundred to one hundred and forty gallons, how much should a Lilliputian
hogshead contain to be in proportion?
Is it a fact that being one-twelfth the height of a man a Lilliputian
should have one-twelfth of a man's strength? If a man is reduced to
one-twelfth of his height what should his weight be?
When they wished to move Gulliver, five hundred carpenters and engineers
were set to work to prepare a frame of wood, which was raised three
inches from the ground, was about seven feet long, four feet wide, and
moved upon twenty-two wheels. What was the diameter of the wheels that
would raise the body three inches from the ground? Would it be an easy
matter to move wheels of that size when they bear a weight such as
Gulliver's must have been?
Knowing what we know of the Lilliputians could nine hundred of them
using pulleys with cords "the bigness of pack-thread" lift Gulliver upon
the engine in less than three hours?
Does Swift keep the correct proportions when he says that Gulliver's
bullets are about the size of the heads of the Lilliputians? Would "an
hundred and fifty of their beds sewn together make up the breadth and
length" of a bed large enough for Gulliver?
How large would a Lilliputian horse be? Does it seem wonderful that
Gulliver's hat could be brought from the seashore with "only five
horses"?
It is unnecessary to carry the questioning any further. Anyone who reads
the stories will find an infinity of questions suggesting themselves to
him, and he will doubtless get no little pleasure and profit from
attempting to answer them. As will be seen, some of the questions are
not simple. If Swift has been wise he has not reduced everything
arbitrarily on a horizontal scale to one-twelfth of its apparent size,
capacity, weight, or strength, but has properly apportioned all. The
reader may find that he will be called upon for some nice
discrimination, before he can judge correctly as to the accuracy with
which Swift has used his scale of reduction.
_The Heart of Bruce_
(Volume V, page 316)
1. What is meant by "frost lay hoar"? "Hoar" means "white" or "gray."
(It was early in the morning before the sun had melted the frost.)
2. What kind of armour did they wear? What kind of "ships" rode in the
bay? (Remember this happened about six hundred years ago.)
3. What caused the foam that was swept away? Why did they gaze back in
silence?
4. Why does the poet call them _purple_ hues, and why does he say they
decayed? (Recall the lines: "'Tis distance lends enchantment to the
view, and clothes the mountain in its azure hue." Did you ever notice
the purple on distant hills? What causes it?)
5. What is the "battle-van"? (The front rank.)
6. What is a "freit"? (A superstitious notion or an omen as to right or
wrong. Lord Douglas felt a superstitious dread, a chill of foreboding.)
7. What did Robert say on his dying day?
8. What did Robert want his followers to do with his heart?
9. Who dreamed this dream? What was a Pilgrim? (A pilgrim is a wanderer.
We think first of the Puritan fathers when we speak of Pilgrims, but the
Pilgrim who appeared to Lord Douglas was a palmer who showed by his garb
and his olive branch that he had been to the Holy Land.) See picture,
page 319.
10. What kind of a Cross did Saint Andrew bear? Who was Saint Andrew?
(Saint Andrew was one of the twelve apostles, and is believed to have
suffered martyrdom on a cross shaped something like the letter X, that
is, one made of two beams of equal length crossing in the middle at an
angle.)
11. What is a "belted brand"? (A sword fastened to a belt.)
12. What was "Galilee"? What was the "Holy Mount" and why was it so
called?
13. What is "Scotland's heart"? (The heart of Robert Bruce, so called
because of the reverence in which he is held by the Scotch.) Where can
you read about the great angel that calls the dead to rise?
14. What is meant by "mark my rede"? (Listen to my advice or counsel.)
15. What was the prediction the Pilgrim seemed to make to Lord Douglas?
What did Lord Douglas ask of Sir Simon of the Lee?
16. Why should Scotland's earth be called "kindly"?
17. What does "betide" mean? Tell in your own words what Sir Simon
replied. ("Whatever happens to me, I'll do as you command.")
18. What does Sir Simon promise?
19. What does "aye" mean? (In this place it means "for a long time.")
What is meant by on our "lee"? (The wind blew toward Spain, and across
the course of the ship; hence the coast appeared on the lee side of the
vessel.) Why should the poet say the coast rose "grimly"?
20. What are "atabals"? (Tabors or kettledrums used by the Moors.)
21. Who asks the question about the Eastern music and the crowd of armed
men?
22. What was Castile? (A province of Spain.) Who answers the question
asked in the twenty-first stanza?
23. What is meant by the "Cross in jeopardie"? (The Spaniards were a
Christian nation fighting under the symbol of the Cross. The Moors were
the infidels or Moslems whose success would destroy the Christian
religion in Spain. Their symbol was the crescent.)
24. What does "Have down" mean? (It means "Let us land.")
25. Who speaks in the twenty-fifth stanza?
26. Explain what is said in the twenty-sixth stanza. (Do you come
because you have promised to fight the pagans or do you come to fight
for money? Are you French or Burgundians?)
27. What is a "belted peer"?
28. What is the meaning of "died upon the tree"?
29. What is a "weltering wave"? (To "welter" is to tumble over. The
"weltering wave" is the sea.)
30. Does the word "pilgrim" mean the same here as in the ninth stanza?
31. What King is this who speaks in the thirty-first stanza?
32. What do the words "full well" express?
33. Is the word "amain" in use nowadays? What does it mean?
34. What is a high glance?
35. What does this speech by Douglas show us of his character?
36. What were "cross-bolts"? (Short, blunt arrows fired from the
cross-bows.)
37. What is a Saracen? (Here the word means merely a Mohammedan hostile
to the Christians.) What does "rode like corn" mean? (We rode through
their ranks as we would ride through corn.)
38. What is the meaning of "fain"? (Willing.)
39. What does "fell" mean? (Deadly.)
40. What is meant by "Make in"? (Here it means, "Gather together.")
41. What was the "rain"? What was the "swarm"?
42. What had happened to Saint Claire?
43. What was James's purpose in holding aloft the heart of Bruce?
44. Why did he throw the sacred relic before him? What does "wert wont
of yore" mean? ("As you used to do.")
45. What is the meaning of "stour"? (Battle or combat.) Why are the
spears said to come in "shivering"?
46. Who speaks in the forty-sixth stanza?
47. Who replies in the forty-seventh stanza? What does "dree" mean?
(Suffer, endure.)
48. What does "stark" mean?
49. What is the meaning of "lyart"? (Gray. The word was usually applied
to a horse.)
50. What is this "heaviest cloud" that is bound for the banks of
Bothwell?
51. What is this "sorest stroke" that has fallen upon Scotland?
52. What was to be carried back to the ship and laid in hallowed ground
in Scotland?
53. Who is the "Lord King" referred to in the fifty-third stanza?
54. Does the line "so stately as he lay" seem a natural way of
expressing the fact?
55. What does the speech of the Spanish King show of his character?
56. Why does the poet say that we steered the ship "heavily"?
57. Does "no welcome greeted our return" mean that none of the Scotch
met the returning soldiers?
58. What were "Douglas Kirk" and "fair Melrose"? (The church of the
Douglas clan and the stately abbey of Melrose. The latter may still be
seen in beautiful ruins in southern Scotland.)
_Annie Laurie_
(Volume VI, page 119)
The Scotch dialect in this old favorite is one of its charms, but some
readers may require explanation of a few of the terms.
"Braes" are hillsides or slopes. "Bonnie" is the Scotch way of spelling
"bonny," which, here, means "beautiful."
"Fa's" is the Scotch spelling of "falls."
"Gie'd" is Scotch for "gave."
The last line of the first stanza rendered into English would read, "I'd
lay me down and die."
"Snaw" is "snow."
"Ee" is "eye."
The "gowan" is the mountain daisy of Scotland.
"Fa'" is "fall."
Like many another simple lyric of love and devotion this owes much of
its popularity to the sweet melody of the music to which it is usually
sung.
_The Lost Child_
(Volume VII, page 409)
1. Where did the poet wander? Is the picture on page 409 a beautiful
one? Is it your idea of a sunny glade? On what or on whom was the poet
musing? Where his thoughts pleasant? To what does he liken his
thoughts? What are guideless thoughts? Do you think his "love" is a
person, or is it his work, his calling?
2. What chanced to go astray? Did Lowell sometimes fear for the future?
How does he express the fear? Who brought back the wandering thoughts?
Where did the thoughts rest? Who had the "snowy arms"? If Lowell feared
the future at any time, what was it that brought calm to him again?
3. What is the "soft nest"? Who is the "happy one"? Whose hair "shone
golden in the sun"? How could a thought of fear seem like a "heavenly
child"? Was it Hope that thus transformed all his thoughts?
4. Upon what did Hope's eyes smile mildly down? What was blessed with so
deep a love? What clasped the neck of Hope? What was it that fell
asleep? What was the lost child?
_David Crockett in the Creek War_
(Volume VIII, Page 37)
Almost any child who is able to read for himself will know as soon as he
has read a few sentences from David Crockett's Autobiography that the
man was uneducated, and wrote in what could not be called "good
English." However, when the reader has gone a little farther he will
realize that Crockett shows his own character in his writings, and that
his language is picturesque and entertaining. Moreover, it is language
that was characteristic of the early settlers in the region where the
frontiersman lived, and hence is of some historical interest to us.
No apology is needed for including the selection in these volumes,
although it has no fine literary merit; for it is the plain, direct
story of a strong man with a clear brain, who accomplished whatever he
undertook, whether it was building a home, fighting the Indians, or
writing a book.
The story will speak for itself, and as it is a truthful account of
things that actually happened, it will appeal strongly to the
imagination of all young readers. However, it is worth while to call
specific attention to some of the faults in style and actual errors in
grammar, in order that the reader may not be affected unfortunately by
the language, or be led to approve it as a style to be followed in these
modern days. This can be done by means of questions, and as an
illustration of the method we will consider the first four paragraphs of
the selection, beginning on page 37.
"There had been no war among us for so long that but few who were not
too old to bear arms knew anything about the business." Does the phrase
_among us_ mean that the settlers had not fought among themselves, or
that they had not been in conflict with the Indians? What was Crockett's
exact meaning? Does he convey it clearly? Does the word _business_ seem
dignified enough to be applied to war?
"I couldn't fight at all." Does the abbreviation of the words _could
not_ make Crockett's style dignified or familiar? Do you often see
similar abbreviations in what is known as "good literature," except as
they are found in conversation, where the tendency is always to use
abbreviated forms and familiar terms? Does not the use of such
abbreviations in this selection make it seem as though Crockett were
talking to his readers in a free and easy manner, rather than as though
he were writing a formal book?
"When I heard of the mischief." In the first sentence of this paragraph,
Crockett speaks of a "most bloody butchery" at Fort Mimms. Now he refers
to it as _the mischief_. Is the word _mischief_ strong enough?
"In a few days a general meeting of the militia was called." Who were
the militia? Why could not the militia be sent out as a body instead of
calling for volunteers? Does he mean the organized militia, or simply
the able-bodied men in that vicinity?
"Began to beg me not to turn out." Is _turn out_ a slang phrase here, or
is it a term commonly used in speaking of the assemblage of the militia?
"It was mighty hard to go against her arguments." Does the word _mighty_
show refinement? What word would be better? Does the phrase _go against_
look well in a book?
"Told her that if every man would wait till his wife got willing to let
him go to war, there would be no fighting done until we would all be
killed in our houses." Is the word _would_ as it appears the first time
used properly? Is _should_ the right word to use? Is _got willing_
correct English? Does the word _until_ express the meaning Crockett
intends to convey? If "there would be no fighting done _until_ they were
all killed in their houses," could there be any fighting done
_afterward_? What words should be used in place of _until_? Is the word
_would_ used properly the second time it appears in the sentence?
[Illustration: PHOEBE CARY
ALICE CARY
ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING
LUCY LARCOM
FELICIA HEMANS
GEORGE ELIOT
JEAN INGELOW]
"Seeing I was bent on it." Can you find authority for using the phrase
_bent on it_ to mean _determined to do it_?
"The truth is my dander was up and nothing but war should bring it right
again." What does the dictionary say about the use of the word _dander_?
Do you suppose it was a common word among Crockett's friends? Is the
word _should_ properly used in this sentence? Is the proper word
_would_? Is it a common mistake even now to use _would_ for _should_ and
_should_ for _would_? How may we know which word to use?
"When the men were paraded, a lawyer by the name of Jones addressed us,
informing us he wished to raise a company, and that then the men should
meet and elect their officers." Who were the men that were paraded? Was
Crockett among them? Whom did Jones address? When Crockett uses the word
_men_ and the word _us_, twice in the same sentence is his meaning
perfectly clear?
"I believe I was about the second or third man that stepped out, but on
marching up and down the regiment a few times we found we had a large
company." Who were marching up and down? Does this mean that they
marched up and down in front of the regiment? What was this regiment
before which they marched up and down? Does _regiment_ here mean the
same as _militia_ in the paragraph before?
"We received orders to start on the next Monday week." What is the
meaning of _next Monday week_? If they assembled on Wednesday, how many
days would elapse before they were to start, and on what day would they
start?
"Mounted my horse and set sail to join my company." How can a man _set
sail_ when he is mounted on a _horse_? Is such a mixing of figures
evidence of good writing?
"All mounted volunteers and all determined to fight, judging from
myself, for I felt wolfish all over. I verily believe that the whole
army was of the real grit." Is _felt wolfish all over_ a fine phrase? Is
it an expressive phrase? What was to be judged from himself--that all
were determined to fight, or that the whole army was of the real grit?
Does the fact that Crockett felt wolfish all over show that he was
determined to fight, or that he had real grit? What is the literal
meaning of _grit_? What does it mean as Crockett uses it here? Is it
proper to use the word as Crockett uses it?
Probably it is not worth while to push this critical study any farther.
It will be seen by this time that Crockett wrote as he talked, and
accordingly, his story lacks the polish and literary beauties that men
trained to write could have given it.
_The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_
(Volume IX, page 32)
Words are interesting things, and people who have never tried the
experiment will be surprised to learn how much pleasure there is to be
found in the use of the dictionary. We consult the dictionary only when
we wish to know the meaning of a word, or its pronunciation, but there
are numberless other facts in the volume that are more interesting, if
not more valuable, than the definitions and marks of pronunciation. In
the history and derivation of words may be found many interesting and
surprising facts which, if they are known, give increased force and
meaning to the words.
There is a great difference among writers in the kinds of words they
use. Some naturally use simple words of Anglo-Saxon origin, while others
use longer and more sonorous words which come from the Latin and the
Greek. It is interesting to take paragraphs from different writers, say,
for instance, from Hawthorne, Lamb, Longfellow, Tennyson, Macaulay and
Irving, make a list of the leading words in the paragraphs, and then
look up their derivations and see how many Anglo-Saxon, how many Latin
and how many Greek words are found in each paragraph.
It will be seen that it is a characteristic of Macaulay to use numerous
many-syllabled words, most of which come directly from the Latin. His
essay on the _Impeachment of Warren Hastings_ shows this trait.
Probably that furnishes as good an illustration as anything in the books
of the kind of literature from which studies in words may best be made.
Taking two paragraphs at random, let us look them over and see what
interesting facts may be gleaned from the dictionary concerning the
words we find:
"The Opposition was loud and vehement against him. But the Opposition,
though formidable from the wealth and influence of some of its members,
and from the admirable talents and eloquence of others, was outnumbered
in Parliament, and odious throughout the country. Nor, as far as we can
judge, was the Opposition generally desirous to engage in so serious an
undertaking as the impeachment of an Indian Governor. Such an
impeachment must last for years. It must impose on the chiefs of the
party an immense load of labor. Yet it could scarcely, in any manner,
affect the event of the great political game. The followers of the
coalition were therefore more inclined to revile Hastings than to
prosecute him. But there were two men whose indignation was not to be so
appeased, Philip Francis and Edmund Burke.
"Francis had recently entered the House of Commons, and had already
established a character there for industry and ability. He labored
indeed under one most unfortunate defect, want of fluency. But he
occasionally expressed himself with a dignity and energy worthy of the
greatest orators. Before he had been many days in Parliament, he
incurred the bitter dislike of Pitt, who constantly treated him with as
much asperity as the laws of debate would allow. Neither lapse of years
nor change of scene had mitigated the enmities which Francis had brought
back from the East. After his usual fashion, he mistook his malevolence
for virtue, nursed it, as preachers tell us we ought to nurse our good
dispositions, and paraded it, on all occasions, with Pharisaical
ostentation."
In the two brief paragraphs given, there are, among others, the
following words of more than passing interest:
1. _Vehement._ This word is derived from two Latin words, meaning _to
carry_ and _the mind_; hence a vehement speech is one that is supposed
to carry the mind away by force. We use the word _furious_ when we wish
to speak of anger or other passions, but the word _vehement_ when we
speak of zeal, love, expression. In this paragraph the Opposition was
loud and tried _to carry the minds of others by force_.
2. _Formidable._ Synonyms of _formidable_ are _dreadful_, _terrible_ and
_shocking_, yet it is rarely the case that two words are exact synonyms.
In this case, _formidable_ means something that excites fear, but it is
neither sudden nor violent in its action. A _dreadful_ thing would
excite fear or dread, and might act violently, but not suddenly. _A
shocking_ thing would startle us because it was both violent and sudden.
Does _formidable_ appear to be the right word by which to characterize
the Opposition?
3. _Influence._ This word is derived from two Latin words which mean
_flowing over_, and consequently an _influence_ brings about change by
gradual process. There is no idea of right in the word _influence_ as
there is in the word _authority_. Does it seem that _influence_ is the
right word here?
4. _Talents._ The history of this word is an interesting one. In origin
it is Greek, and there it was the name of a weight, which in silver had
a certain money value. The same word appearing in Hebrew had a similar
meaning. A Hebrew talent in silver would be worth something over
seventeen or nineteen hundred dollars of our money. In the New Testament
(see _Matthew_ XXV, 14 to 30), Christ utters the parable of the talents.
We now use the word to mean intellectual ability or capacity, or skill
in accomplishing things, or some special gift in some art or science. It
is probable that this figurative meaning of the word has originated from
the parable, and although many writers have criticised the use of
_talent_ in our sense, it has become well established in the language.
5. _Odious._ The Latin word from which _odious_ is derived means
_hatred_. An _odious_ thing is a thing to be _hated_. Our word _odium_
differs slightly in use from our word _hatred_. We exercise _hatred_,
but we endure _odium_.
6. _Desire._ The origin of this word is not certain, but it was probably
derived from the French words which mean literally _from the stars_ or
_constellations_.
7. _Immense._ This word is derived from two Latin words which mean
_cannot be measured_.
8. _Coalition._ The two Latin words from which _coalition_ is derived
mean _to grow with_; consequently, a _coalition_ is a thing composed of
several elements which have grown together. We should not expect a
_coalition_ to be suddenly formed; it must come about by process of
growth.
9. _Appease._ Literally, _appease_ means _to make peace_. It also means
_to satisfy_, and is derived directly from the Latin. We try to
_appease_ those who are in passion and try to _calm_ those who are in
trouble or apprehension. Does Macaulay use the word properly when he
speaks of _appeasing_ indignation?
10. _Fluency._ The Latin word from which _fluency_ is derived means _to
flow_. Accordingly, a _fluent_ person is one from whom speech flows
smoothly and readily. To lack _fluency_ Macaulay considers an
unfortunate defect in Francis.
11. _Asperity._ The Latin word _asper_ means _rough_ or _harsh_, and was
applied to things which had a rough surface. Macaulay uses the word as
we now know it, in the same figurative sense in which we now sometimes
use the word _roughness_.
12. _Lapse._ This word from the Latin means _sliding_ or _following_. In
speaking of the _lapse_ of years Macaulay intimates that they gradually
slid away.
13. _Pharisaical._ The _Pharisees_ were a sect of the Jews who were
noted for the strict way in which they followed the rites and ceremonies
that had been handed down to them by tradition, and who believed
themselves superior in sanctity to the other Jews. They held themselves
apart and were charged with being hypocrites. The word _Pharisaical_ has
now come into common English use, and means _hypocritical_.
14. _Ostentation._ This is a Latin word meaning _show_ or _parade_.
_Ostentation_ and _parade_ both imply effort, but the former refers to
the intent rather than to the manner. _Ostentation_ may be shown by
_parade_.
From _The Death of Caesar_
(Volume IX, page 143)
As preliminary to the intensive study of the speech alluded to below,
read to the class or have them read all of the three selections, namely:
_The Death of Caesar_, from Plutarch (page 126); The _Death of Caesar_,
from Shakespeare (page 143), and _Julius Caesar_, from Froude (page
155). As an example of selections worthy of close reading, take the
speech of Cæsar as given on page 153, beginning, "I could be well mov'd,
if I were as you."
Bring out by questions these facts:
A. _Words._ "Moved"; induced to change my mind.
"Constant"; fixed, unchangeable, immovable.
"Northern star"; the pole star; the north star. To us this star always
appears fixed in the northern heavens. The other stars and the
constellations revolve around it; Ursa Major, the Big Dipper, is most
conspicuous, and by a line through its two front stars we may always
locate the North Star and, hence, the direction, _north_. Mariners have
steered by this star for centuries. Many a lost and wandering man has
found his way to safety by its fixed light.
"Resting"; always stationary.
"Fellow"; equal.
"Firmament"; sky, heavens.
"Painted"; decorated.
"Sparks"; stars.
"Doth"; does.
"Furnished"; filled.
"Apprehensive"; doubtful, filled with forebodings and easily moved.
"Unassailable"; not subject to attack; here the meaning is rather that
of _unconquerable_.
"Constant"; _insistent_, the first time the word appears; but
_unchangeable_, the second time.
B. _Phrases._ "Well moved"; easily moved.
"If I were as you"; if I were as you are, or if I were like you.
"Could pray to move"; could try to change the opinion or the
determination of someone else.
"True-fixed and resting quality"; quality of always remaining true or
fixed to the one spot in the heavens.
"So in the world"; as all the unnumbered stars shine in the heavens and
all move but one, thus in the world.
"Holds on his rank unshak'd of motion"; is fixed in his ideas and
unmoved by prayers and petitions.
"And that I am he"; and I am that one immovable man.
"Let me a little show it"; let me give a little proof.
C. _Sentences._ The first sentence means: If I could beg others to
change their purposes, I could be induced to change mine; but I am as
fixed in my conclusions as the north star is fixed in the heavens. The
second sentence says: As there are unnumbered movable stars in the
heavens and only one that is fixed, so in the world there are unnumbered
changeable men and only one who is fixed in his determination; that I am
the one determined man let me prove a little by saying that, as I was
persistent in banishing Cimber so will I continue to keep him in
banishment.
D. _The paragraph._ The whole speech is a refusal on Cæsar's part to
grant the petition of the conspirators who plead that Cimber may be
brought back from banishment. The words are well calculated to stir up
resentment and to fix the plotters in their plan to murder Cæsar. Even
Brutus would be convinced by such sentiments that Cæsar was a dangerous
man; if the great Roman thought himself the only man with such
determination, might he not think himself the one man of the world in
all respects? The conspirators were looking for an excuse for killing
Cæsar, and they might find it in this speech; Brutus was being led to
believe that Cæsar was too ambitious and here was the final argument to
convince him.
CHAPTER X
CLOSE READING--(Concluded)
_The Author--Figures of Speech_
Real appreciation of literature is dependent on effort, and each
acquired impression aids all others in proportion to its intensity. We
can interpret only by what our minds already contain, so that the
earlier years of one's reading are largely devoted to the acquirement of
material for future use. In this way the myths and folk stories with
which children fill their minds become the touchstones that enable them
in later years to read with interest and judge accurately the literature
that falls within their reach. The later one begins his reading, the
more difficult it is for him to master the art. He has not the simplest
standards of literary judgment nor even the ideas from which such
standards are to be formed. Elegance of style and skill in the choice of
words are entirely lost upon him, as is the delicate meaning involved in
the play of appropriate figures and in the brilliance of the pictures
limned in colors to which his eye is blind. Such a person can come to
enjoy the pleasures of literature, but it is by way of a long and
careful course of study, and it is probable that his appreciation will
never be as keen as it would have been if he had gathered his literary
stock in trade at the same time that his senses were first opening to
the world. Then the skies and the flowers, the song of birds and the
hum of insects, the quiet reaches of still lakes and the roaring surge,
gave to him the sensations to which literature appeals.
There is no need for one to feel discouragement when at first he does
not admire all that the critics say is beautiful, but prefers some of
the simple things that he knew in his childhood. The critic is right
from his point of view, but there is merit, too, in the judgment of the
humble reader. A person would hesitate to say the critic's judgment is
the higher were it not for the fact that anyone reading carefully will
find his tastes changing and constantly approximating higher standards.
Each year brings him nearer to the critic's position and he sees
excellence and is touched by beauty in selections that before have been
devoid of any interest. It is to aid this growth in power of
comprehension, this refinement of taste, that one reads.
_The Author._ When the study relates to a specific selection it is wise
to create an interest by looking for all the contributory aids that can
be found. Sometimes a knowledge of the life of the author or of the
circumstances under which the selection was written will stimulate a
desire to know what has been said and will moreover assist to make the
meaning clear and to create the same sentiment that inspired the writer.
To know that _Snow-Bound_ is a description of Whittier's own home, that
the people about the fireside are his own parents, brothers, sisters,
and that he paints them with a loving touch after all but the one
brother have passed to the other side, is to make the poem appeal to our
emotions with an intensity which the beautiful lines alone could not
effect. _Ichabod_ we read once, but when we know the meaning of its
spiritual name and remember that it is Whittier's indignant rebuke of
Webster for his vacillating policy in the slavery agitation, we read it
again with a renewed and more vivid interest. Many things, however, are
so universal that one cares not whether they were written by a Hindoo or
an American, whether they are full of personal experience or drawn with
the fervor of the most ardent imagination. Wordsworth's _Daffodils_
(Volume VII, page 1) would charm us and our hearts would dance as
joyfully if we knew nothing of the pensive poet of the English lakes.
_Sentences._ Words alone are not a sufficient possession. They must be
known in all their relations. A comprehension of the structure of the
sentence is always necessary. A sentence is a unit of thought, an idea
reduced to its lowest terms. It may not be necessary that each sentence
be analyzed strictly by grammatical rules, but it is essential that the
reader should recognize by study if necessary the subject and the
predicate and the character and rank of all the modifiers of each. Even
the practiced reader by unconsciously laying undue prominence upon some
minor phrase frequently modifies the meaning an author intends to
convey. This is particularly true in verse, where the poet, hemmed in by
the rules that govern his meter and his rhyme, varies the natural order
of the elements of a sentence to bring the accents where they belong or
to throw the rhyming word to the end of a verse. The grouping of related
sentences into paragraphs is an aid to the reader and should be noticed
by him till the habit of expecting a slight change in thought with the
indentation of a line becomes fixed and automatic.
_Allusions._ But one may have the most perfect knowledge of all the
words, his comprehension of the meaning of the sentence may be exact and
full, and yet the special thought which the expression carries may never
reach his mind. Ruskin writes: "Gather a single blade of grass and
examine for a minute, quietly, its narrow swordshaped strip of fluted
green. Nothing, as it seems, there, of notable goodness or beauty. A
very little strength, and a very little tallness, and a few delicate
long lines meeting in a point--not a perfect point either, but blunt and
unfinished, by no means a creditable or apparently much cared for
example of Nature's workmanship; made, as it seems, only to be trodden
on today, and tomorrow to be cast into the oven; and a little pale and
hollow stalk, feeble and flaccid, leading down to the dull brown fibres
of roots. And yet, think of it well, and judge whether of all the
gorgeous flowers that beam in summer air, and of all strong and goodly
trees, pleasant to the eyes and good for food--stately palm and pine,
strong ash and oak, scented citron burdened vine--there be any by man so
deeply loved, by God so highly graced as that narrow point of feeble
green." Words and sentences are all plain and simple and clear. Perhaps
we pause a moment at "scented citron," for the citron as we know it is a
vine bearing a melonlike fruit and we are not aware that it is
especially fragrant. But this is another plant--a tree that bears a
sweet-scented fruit not unlike the lemon. "Burdened vine" seems a trifle
obscure--why _burdened vine_? A vine carrying a weight? What weight?
The ripened clusters of purple fruit bending the swaying vines to the
warm earth while autumn tints the leaves to harmonious colors. "Burdened
vine" is a suggestive expression indeed to the person of a little
imagination who has walked through the long aisles of a thriving
vineyard. Is the passage now clear to us and perfectly understood? Does
it convey to us what Ruskin really thought?--"Tomorrow to be cast into
the oven." What a strange expression! Do we put grass into an oven? How
came Ruskin to mention such a thing? "To be cast into the oven." We have
seen "burdened vines" and we understand the "scented citron," but what
of this grass "cast into the oven"? Back in the mind of the
artist-critic lie the lessons of his childhood when an ambitious father
and a strict mother intended him for the church and trained him
carefully to a close and accurate knowledge of the scriptures. So when
he writes of the grass of the field he almost unconsciously uses the
language of the bible: "Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the
field which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not
much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?" We his readers interpret
his feelings and his meaning in this only as we have learned the same
lessons.
Examples of such allusions abound throughout literature. In _The Vision
of Sir Launfal_, Lowell says:
"Daily, with souls that cringe and plot,
We Sinais climb and know it not."
With a knowledge of geography we might locate the mountain and
understand the sentence, but the tremendous power of the lines can
never be felt unless we know the story of Moses and so realize that we
stand every day like the patriarch of old in the very presence of God
himself.
The mythology of Greece and Rome furnishes to English literature
allusions so pointed, so vivid, and so full of beautiful suggestion that
a knowledge of the myths is necessary to any real culture. Modern
writers do not make such ready use of them as did the older schools, but
Lowell and Tennyson, Browning and Arnold, and a host of minor writers
assume that their readers know as their alphabet the stories of
mythology. In his hymn _On the Morning of Christ's Nativity_, Milton has
this stanza following one which tells that the shepherds heard the sweet
music:
"Nature that heard such sound
Beneath the hollow round
Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling,
Now was almost won
To think her part was done,
And that her reign had here its last fulfilling;
She knew such harmony alone
Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier Union."
How little of intelligent interest attaches to the first three lines if
one has no knowledge beyond the literal meaning of the phrases! "The
hollow round of Cynthia's seat" has beauty for that person only who
knows something of the Ptolemaic system of astronomy and of the
huntress-queen of Greek mythology.
Allusions lead one to every department of knowledge and are the result
of the early training and experience of the author. No one needs to be
told that Milton studied the classics, that Ruskin and Tennyson read the
bible devotedly, that Shakespeare passed his early life in the country.
The unconscious trend of their thought as shown by their allusions gives
that information most distinctly. If a man loves history in his youth
his writings will be filled with historical allusions; if he is a
devotee of science one will find the phenomena of nature the source of
his illustrations. The reader must be ready to understand and interpret
feelingly these allusions no matter what the particular bent of the
author. To the student the allusion is often very difficult of
comprehension, for if it comes in the way of an ingenious paraphrase he
may pass over it without the slightest recognition. When it is direct, a
dictionary or other reference book will frequently make it sufficiently
clear.
_Basis of Figures._ The allusion is but one of many ways in which an
author varies the literal meaning of his sentences and gives more force
and beauty to his statements. There are a large number of different
figures of speech, but such fine distinctions as the rhetoricians make
are unnecessary for the ordinary student of literature. It is the
meaning the figures convey that concerns us, for an adept in reading
always notices the skilful use of figures, and his pleasure is
heightened by their delicacy and beauty.
In the study of figures one must first carefully determine the basis in
reality or the literal meaning and then the figurative or applied
meaning. Browning speaks of
"--selfish worthless human slugs whose slime
Has failed to lubricate their path in life."
Here the reader must see disgusting slugs or snails crawling lazily
across the ripening apples in the orchard and leaving behind them the
filthy streak of slime with which they made the way easy for their ugly
bodies, but in so doing defiled the fruit for human use. So much is the
basis in fact. Knowing this one can feel the poet's stinging
denunciation of the one who cast the beautiful girl in the way of the
heartless Guido instead of "putting a prompt foot on him the worthless
human slug."
"To unhusk truth a-hiding in its hulls."
Here Browning has gone to the fields for his figure and we shall see the
ripened grain, the corn or the wheat, the merry huskers at work upon it,
turning out the glowing ear from its covering of dim paper wraps; or
perchance a group of disciples walking with their Master and rubbing the
hulls from the wheat gathered on the Sabbath day. Whatever the scene
that comes in mind, one fact there is--underneath the dried and
worthless hulls lies the living and life-giving grain. So we find truth
bright and genuine when we have torn from it the coverings with which it
has been concealed.
Such practice as this in working out elaborately the figure often given
in barest hint strengthens the imagination and gives to thought the
versatility that makes reading a delight and an inspiration. Till the
imagination is furnished material and given freedom, literature is as
worthless as the husks.
_Simile._ As we learn to know one thing from its likeness to another, it
is natural that the writer should seek to make impressions vivid by
comparison with better known things. Sometimes these comparisons are
expressed in words, and one thing is said to be _like_ another, while at
other times the comparison is left to be inferred and one thing is said
_to be_ another. The _simile_ states the likeness. Browning seeks to
make us see vividly the hideous character of one of his villains and
says that on his very face you could read his crimes--
"Large-lettered like Hell's masterpiece of print."
The comparison "like Hell's masterpiece" is a simile.
Study each simile you find, and state the exact meaning of each
literally. Compare your statement with the figurative one and see if the
latter is clearer, more forcible, or more beautiful. If any one of the
similes seems less vivid than your own literal statement, ask yourself
if the fault is your own in that you are not thoroughly familiar with
the basis of the figure. It is not necessary that your judgment should
be unassailable. The value of the proceeding lies in the exercise of
your attention and reason. Your judgments will improve, your
appreciation grow keener and more delicate.
_Metaphor:_
"Everywhere
I see in the world the intellect of man,
That sword, the energy, his subtle spear,
The knowledge, which defends him like a shield."
This is another quotation from Browning in which he says intellect is a
sword and energy a spear, thereby assuming a comparison and using the
figure _metaphor_, while in the last line he uses the simile "like a
shield." Ingersoll calls the grave "the windowless palace of rest," and
Whittier refers to it in a beautiful metaphor as "the low green tent
whose curtain never outward swings."
_Synecdoche and Metonymy._ Another group of figures consists in naming
one thing for something else closely associated with it in thought. When
this relation is that of a part to the whole or of the whole to a part,
the figure is synecdoche. Thus, when Browning says "pert tongue and idle
ear consort 'neath the archway" he conveys the idea that idle gossips
gather beneath the archway and with sharp tongues talk over the failings
of their neighbors, and he uses synecdoche in making the ear and the
tongue, parts of the body, signify the person. Our everyday language is
full of these figures in which a part of an object is named to represent
the whole. We speak of owning "twenty head of cattle," of hiring "ten
hands," of seeing "fifteen sails," when we mean that we own twenty
cattle, that we hire ten men, that we see fifteen boats.
When the relation expressed is that of a sign or symbol and that which
is signified or symbolized, a cause and its effect, a material and that
which is made from it, or is some other similar association of ideas,
the figure is metonymy.
We speak of "the pulpit" when we mean the ministry, the "stage" when we
mean the theatrical world, and thus use concrete symbols to represent
abstract ideas. Again, we frequently make use of such an expression as
"Have you read Pope or Dryden?" when we refer to the works rather than
to the writer, and thus substitute cause for effect. "Columns of
glittering steel advanced" contains another form of metonymy, that in
which a material (steel) is named for that made from it (spears).
Search for examples of these two figures in the selections in _Journeys
Through Bookland_. Both are elusive, and at first you are apt to pass
over many without noticing them. As you continue your search and grow
keen in it you will be surprised to see how common they are, both in
what you read and in your own speech.
_Apostrophe and Personification._ An address to a person or thing,
absent or dead, is an _apostrophe_, and when an inanimate object is
assumed to be alive or an animate object is assumed to be raised to a
higher plane of existence it is said to be by _personification_.
Examples of the latter figure are "death's menace," "laugh of morn." In
the line "Lucidity of soul unlocks the lips" are both metonymy and
personification. The following is the beginning of a beautiful
apostrophe:
"O lyric Love, half angel and half bird,
And all a wonder and a wild desire,--
Boldest of hearts that ever braved the sun,
Took sanctuary within the holier blue,
And sang a kindred soul out to his face,
Yet human at the red-ripe of the heart
When the first summons from the darking earth
Reached thee amid thy chambers, blanched their blue
And bared them of the glory--to drop down,
To toil for man, to suffer or to die,--
This is the same voice; can thy soul know change?"
Another fine example is found in Whittier's _Snow-Bound_:
"O Time and Change!--with hair as gray
As was my sire's that winter day,
How strange it seems, with so much gone
Of life and love, to still live on!
Ah, brother! only I and thou
Are left all that circle now,--
The dear home faces whereupon
That fitful firelight paled and shone.
Henceforward, listen as we will,
The voices of that hearth are still;
Look where we may, the wide earth o'er,
Those lighted faces smile no more.
We tread the path their feet have worn,
We sit beneath their orchard trees,
We hear, like them, the hum of bees
And rustle of the bladed corn;
We turn the pages that they read,
Their written words we linger o'er,
But in the sun they cast no shade,
No voice is heard, no sign is made,
No step is on the conscious floor."
The following lines are from Lord Byron's _Apostrophe to the Ocean_:
"Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore;--upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown."
* * * * *
Children enjoy searching for the different varieties of figures in the
selections which they read. Not much instruction is needed, and it is
not necessary that they should know the names of the different figures
or acquire a great deal of technical knowledge. Yet in helping them to
recognize figures it is best to proceed in a logical manner, showing,
one at a time, what the principal figures are, upon what they are based,
and what they add in vividness and beauty to the language. When one
figure is understood, help the children to find many good examples in
other selections, before taking up the second figure.
As a help to parents and children, we give an outline here for a study
of the figures of speech in Shelley's beautiful _Ode to a Skylark_
(Volume VII, page 275).
1. SIMILE:
"From the earth thou springest
_Like a cloud of fire_."
"_Like an unbodied joy_ whose race is just begun."
"With music _sweet as love_."
"_Like a star of heaven_
In the broad daylight."
2. METAPHOR:
"From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see,
As from thy presence _showers a rain of melody_."
"Or how could thy notes _flow in such a crystal stream_!"
"In _the golden lightning_
Of the sunken sun."
3 and 4. METONYMY AND SYNECDOCHE are nearly related and in this poem the
examples are numerous. Here are a few:
"Better than all _treasures_
That in books are found."
"Teach me half the gladness
That thy _brain_ must know."
"Thou art unseen, but yet I hear _thy shrill delight_."
"The moon _rains out her beams_, and heaven is overflowed."
"The blue deep thou _wingest_."
5. PERSONIFICATION. In this poem the poet personifies the lark,
beginning with "Blithe spirit, bird thou never wert," in the first
stanza and closing with "Teach me half the gladness that thy brain must
know," in the last stanza.
6. APOSTROPHE. Most odes have in them something of the nature of an
apostrophe. The _Ode to a Skylark_ begins
"Hail to thee, blithe spirit!"
Further along in the lyric we find the line,
"Teach us, bird or sprite."
* * * * *
Young children will not appreciate the ode as it deserves; accordingly
it will be better to use simpler poems for the first lessons. The
obvious figures may well be shown first, leaving the more finished and
brilliant ones till the minds of the children become more mature. For
instance, as the simile is the most obvious of figures and may be found
in nearly every poem of any length, it is the best with which to begin.
Notice what a number can be found in _A Visit from Saint Nicholas_
(Volume II, page 202). Explain those that are used in the description of
Saint Nicholas:
"And he looked _like a peddler just opening his pack_."
"His cheeks were _like roses_, his nose _like a cherry_;
His droll little mouth was drawn up _like a bow_,
And the beard on his chin was _as white as the snow_."
"The smoke, it encircled his head _like a wreath_."
"That shook, when he laughed, _like a bowl full of jelly_."
Encourage the children to find other similes themselves--the
characteristic _like_ and _as_ will make the task easy.
In _The First Snowfall_ (Volume II, page 403) are a number of metaphors
which may be easily explained to children. For instance, the following
will be readily understood:
"Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore _ermine_ too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm tree
Was ridged inch deep with _pearl_."
"The stiff rails were softened to _swan's-down_."
SUMMARY
We have considered the most common and expressive figures, and if one
accustoms himself to the recognition of these and an explanation of
their meaning as has been indicated here, he will soon recognize others
of more complex type. Mere classification is valueless; our purpose is
to learn to see and to feel more clearly and more deeply by means of our
intelligent grasp upon these figurative expressions.
Thought, then, is mastered by attention to the details we have
discussed, and until we habitually notice these things our reading is
apt to be slipshod and profitless. It will help us to retain these facts
in mind if we put them into a systematic outline.
Mastery of thought, which is at the foundation of an appreciation of
literature, depends upon mastery of--
I. Words in their special meaning.
II. Allusions, or references to
1. Historical events and personages.
2. Literary masterpieces.
3. Scientific truths.
4. Biblical events and truths.
5. Mythological creations.
III. Figures, of which the more important and common are those--
1. Based on comparisons:
a. simile.
b. metaphor.
2. Based on natural associations:
a. synecdoche.
b. metonymy.
3. Of apostrophe.
4. Of personification.
IV. Sentences, the units of thought.
V. Paragraphs, the collections of related thought units.
CHAPTER XI
READING POETRY
Nothing so brings out the music and the structural beauty of poetry as
reading it aloud, and many who have cared nothing for verse in any of
its forms learn to love it when they hear it read frequently by a
sympathetic voice. Children love the nursery rhymes largely because they
have heard them and have caught the sound and rhythm more than the
meaning. It is the lively music more than the whimsical meaning that has
made the rhymes popular. When the time comes that children begin to lose
their interest and consider poetry beneath them, their flagging
attention often may be aroused and new interest created by simply
reading new selections aloud to them and talking with them about the
meaning and beauties of the poems.
On page 410 of Volume One is Longfellow's exquisite poem, _The Reaper
and the Flowers_. We can imagine a little family group reading this some
quiet evening when the lamp throws shadows into the corners and the
bed-time hour draws near. No one could call the children in on a fine
summer day, and, when fresh from their play, the blood is bounding
through their veins, expect them to be touched by delicate sentiment, or
to appreciate musical numbers. Literature has something for every hour,
every mood, every circumstance. It may be that there is one little
vacant chair in this family circle, or that from some neighbor's family
a child has gone. Fear clutches at the youthful hearts and Grief
shudders behind each chair. Even the warm bed in the dark room is a
dread, for we have so surrounded death with mystery and terror that even
the young are aghast when it is mentioned. But our best-loved poet has a
cheering message for every one, and into this little group the parent
brings it. In soft and sympathetic voice he reads aloud, giving the slow
and gentle music of the lines time to steal into the youthful hearts.
As he reads, he pauses now and then to speak to his little audience,
watching ever not to be sharp in his questionings or anything but kindly
in his comments. Something like the following might be the way he brings
out the meaning:
"'There is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.'
"A _Reaper_--a man walking in the grain, cutting it as he goes. Not with
a machine such as we see on the farm nowadays, but with a short curved
blade which the poet calls a sickle. It is a _keen_ blade the sickle
has, and with every stroke ripened grain and all the little flowers that
have grown up among it fall to the ground. But the poet means more. He
thinks that the Reaper is Death, that the _bearded grain_ is the men and
women who have lived to a ripe old age and who are ready to die, ready
for the rewards of a long and well-spent life. But alas, the _flowers_
fall with the ripened grain: sometimes little children must die,
although dearly would we like to keep them with us.
"Then the Reaper speaks: 'Shall I have nothing fair and beautiful, must
I have nothing but dry and bearded grain? I love these beautiful
flowers; their fragrance is dear to me. Yet I will give them back again;
some time you may see them again.'
"So Death looked at the little children with tears filling his kindly
eyes. As they faded and drooped he kissed them gently and took them
softly and sorrowfully into his arms. He was gathering these lovely
innocents to take them to his Lord, where in Paradise they might be
happy evermore, without any of the privations and sufferings that come
to every one who grows up.
"As he wept, not for the little children, but for all who stay behind,
he continued to speak smilingly through his tears to the sorrowing ones
on earth:
"'Christ needs these dear ones, these flowerets gay: to him they are
tokens dear of the earth where once he played and sang on the hills of
Judea. Can you not trust them to him who said, "Suffer little children
to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the Kingdom of
God?" Have no fear; I am but moving them into the bright heavenly
mansions, where they shall rest safely in the bosoms of the saints and
angels.'
"And the mother, who loved them so, gave up her darling ones, for she
saw, even through her tears, how happy they must be in their new home.
"'O not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;'
it was a young and beautiful Angel, not the hideous Death in black robes
and hood scarce hiding his bony head, that
"'visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.'
"Does Death seem so terrible now? Although we must always see the vacant
chair and know that a loved one has gone forever, can we not realize
that it is we who suffer, and not the one who has been taken from among
us? Is it not selfish to grieve?"
Shall we fear Death any more? When the parent has read the poem once
more from beginning to end in silence, except as the soft words fall
from his lips, will not the hearers feel inspired to be better and
nobler boys and girls, men and women? Will darkness have more fear for
them? Will they not then go to their rooms and lie down peacefully to
sleep?
There are other poems for other hours. Some day when you wish a bit of
fun with your children you will find humorous poems in many of the
books. One is in Volume IV, on page 57. Nearly every stanza contains a
"joke": a pun, if you please, usually. Perhaps you and your children
will find them all easily, and perhaps you will not. In the last stanza
is the "joke" proper, the thing for which the rhymes were written. It is
an old joke, surely enough, and you have seen others like it; but it is
funny still and perhaps a little caustic. Not all men whom the world
calls good are good beneath the surface. Perhaps you know of cases in
which "the Dog it was that died."
Another humorous poem to use in this connection is _Echo_ (Volume III,
page 286).
Between the two extremes mentioned above are selections for all moods
and all kinds of people. The things to be remembered in reading with
children are, that poetry must be understood to be appreciated; that it
must be heard until the mind is trained to receive it through the eye
instead of the ear; that it appeals to the feelings more than to the
will; that it must be interpreted by the light of experience, and hence
must be adapted to the age of the reader. A person would not read _The
Reaper and the Flowers_ at a dancing party, nor _The Elegy on the Death
of a Mad Dog_ before a funeral.
Below are a few studies more complete and of different types.
_The Brown Thrush_
(Volume I, page 147)
We find great charm in this short lyric, for its form is unusual, its
music joyous and its sentiment fine. Three lines of four feet each, a
line of three feet, two lines of two feet each, and one line of three
feet make up each stanza. The accent in each foot is on the last
syllable, but some of the feet are only two syllables long. It's a merry
meter. It scarcely can be read without stirring a rollicking melody in
the ears of the listener. That's the art in the poem. The sentiment is
as fine as the music. "The world's running over with joy! I'm as happy
as happy can be." If the little brown thrush keeps singing that song the
heart of everyone who hears it will overflow with joy. But it would be
easy, very easy indeed, to stop the joyous song of the thrush by
meddling with the five pretty eggs, and when the thrush changed his
happy song to harsh notes of fear and reproach, the light of joy would
fade from our day as quickly as from his.
_The Child's World_
(Volume II, page 66)
The unique measures of this brief poem make a melodious whole that every
child will appreciate. Unless some care is taken in reading it aloud,
however, much of its beauty will be lost. This is particularly true of
the first stanza, from the first and last lines of which a syllable has
been omitted. The absence of these syllables must be indicated by pauses
or by giving more time to the word "great" in the first line, and to the
word "world" in the last line. The idea may be indicated by supposing
that the word "O" has been omitted from the beginning of the first and
last line. The first line of the last couplet is peculiar in that every
one of the four feet contains three syllables with the accent on the
last. All the other lines consist each of four feet of either two or
three syllables. Technically the poem is anapestic tetrameter much
varied by the introduction of iambic feet. (See the studies in meter,
Volume VII, pages 2 and 13.)
The rhymes are all in couplets and are perfect. The stanzas, like
paragraphs, indicate changes in thought. Its pleasing unity rests in the
fact that it is all a child's thoughts about the world. It is logical, a
real leading up of thought to natural climax. The child begins with
wonder and a sense of beauty around her. The world is great and wide
and wonderful and beautiful. She thinks of the sea she has read about
or seen and thinks of the wonderful water curling up in waves above the
shore. To her the world is the land with the wonderful growing grass
upon its broad breast, and this marks the end of her first thought--the
great world is beautifully dressed.
Next as she sits on the brow of the hill and gazes over the lowland the
breezes blow her hair about her face and her mind passes to the
wonderful air that as wind shakes the trees, ripples the water, whirls
the mills and sings through the trees on the tops of the hills.
Thought wanders on to the nodding wheat, the rivers, cliffs, and
islands, to the cities and the people everywhere for thousands of miles.
What is the effect of this vastness on the thought of a child? Can you
not realize for yourself any clear night that you may gaze at the
numberless stars in the arching skies? How small, how infinitely little
are we in all the great universe! Have we the imagination to grasp the
saving thought that comes so naturally into the clear mind of the child?
Though I am so small, so insignificant, I can think and love, but the
wonderful earth can not. A philosophy well worth keeping, is it not?
_Seven Times One_
(Volume II, page 119)
Jean Ingelow's poem has in it many things to interest a child, but there
may be some things that will be clearer for explanation.
Stanza 1. In England the daisy grows wild almost everywhere, a little,
low plant which produces its heads of white, pink-tipped flowers from a
rosette of leaves. In the United States we often see daisies in
cultivation but they are nowhere native. The child is at her seventh
birthday and has learned her multiplication table, the "sevens".
Nowadays in our schools the children do not have the drudgery of
committing the long tables to memory as their grand-parents did. Our
little friend thinks that as she has lived seven years that makes her
"seven times one are seven."
Stanza 2. One is so old at seven, so very old--why one can even write a
letter. But now with the birthday lessons learned she can think of other
things; for instance there are the lambs who play always, for they have
no lessons to learn. They are not old and they are "only one times one,"
not "seven times one," which are seven.
Stanza 3. She has seen the moon when it was full and bright and gave a
wondrous light, but now it is only a pale crescent in the sky and its
light is failing. Certainly the moon is failing and not like the child
improving each day.
Stanza 4. Occasionally the child has done wrong and been punished, and
perhaps the moon has done something wrong way up there in heaven so that
God has hidden its face. If that is true she hopes soon God will forgive
the poor moon and allow it to shine once more with its silver light.
Stanza 5. Isn't "velvet bee" a happy expression? Then the bee gathers
the yellow pollen from the flowers, mixes and shapes it into little
pellets and fastens them in golden balls on its thighs to carry into the
hive where it will serve as "bee bread" to feed the young bees. In the
wet places grow the marsh marigolds, or cowslips as they are sometimes
called, bright golden flowers like the buttercups. To the bee and the
cowslips the little child joyfully cries: "Give me your golden honey to
hold, for I am seven years old and know what to do with it."
Stanza 6. The columbine is the graceful little flower we so often hear
called honeysuckle. Five deep curved nectar-bearing tubes project
backward from the flower itself. By opening the blossom in the right way
the child of fanciful ideas may see shapes that remind her of turtle
doves.
The cuckoo-pint (by the way, the _i_ is short as in _pit_) does not grow
in the United States. It has spotted leaves, large and triangular, and
the "bell" is an upright green cup in which stands a tall column, the
"clapper." It is called cuckoo-pint because it blossoms about the time
the cuckoo returns to England. Our nearest approach to the flower is the
"Jack-in-the-Pulpit" or Indian Turnip.
It is perfectly safe for the columbine to unfold its wrapper and the
cuckoo-pint to toll its bell in the presence of a maiden so old. She
will not destroy them.
Stanza 7. In the United States we have no wild linnet, though we
sometimes hear song-birds called by that name. The English linnet is a
little sparrow with striped back and a purple crown and breast. He
resembles our purple finch and our redpoll. He is one of the famous
songsters of the English lanes and fields.
No young lady of seven would be so thoughtless as to steal away the
young linnets, so the old bird may freely point out the nest.
At what time of the year does the little girl's birthday come?
_The First Snowfall_
(Volume II, page 403)
A. _The Author._ For a sketch of the life of James Russell Lowell, see
Volume VII, page 411.
B. _The Meaning._ Words and Phrases:
"Gloaming"; early evening.
"Silence." The snow is called a silence, because it hushes noise, or
prevents it.
"Pine and fir and hemlock"; three evergreen trees.
"Ermine"; the fur from a northern animal of the same name. It is very
soft and white. Earls, nobles of rank, wore ermine on their robes to
show their high birth.
"Pearl"; a white, lustrous jewel, or the beautiful lining of some sea
shells.
"Carrara"; a town in Italy, whence comes the finest white marble. Here
Carrara means _costly marble_.
"Swan's down." Swans have fine soft down between their feathers. It
protects them from cold in winter, and in summer they line their nests
with it.
"Noiseless work"; covering everything with snow.
"Mound"; grave.
"Auburn"; a beautiful cemetery near Boston.
"Babes in the Wood"; an allusion to the old story of the children who
were lost in the woods, and whom the robins covered with leaves to
protect them.
"All-father"; God, the Father of all.
"Leaden"; gray and heavy, lead-colored.
"Arched"; curved.
"Deep-plunged woe"; a sorrow that plunged us deep in misery.
"Eyes that saw not." His eyes were so filled with tears that he could
not see "Mabel," who is really his daughter Rose.
"_My_ kiss was given to her sister." He was thinking so deeply of his
lost daughter, that it seemed almost as though he kissed the dead lips.
"Folded close." The soft, downy snow made him think of a soft, warm
covering for the form of his little one.
C. _Form and Structure._
There are ten stanzas of four verses (lines) each, with the rhymes at
the ends of the second and fourth verses only. The word _snow_ is used
four times in rhymes; the words rhyming with it are _crow_, _below_,
_woe_ and _know_. All the rhymes in the poem are perfect.
The meter is varied iambic trimeter. The first and third lines of each
stanza have an added unaccented syllable, while the second and fourth
have just three full feet. Anapestic feet are used freely to improve the
music; in fact, they are nearly as numerous as the iambic feet.
The scansion of the first stanza may be indicated thus:
The-snow´|had-be-gun´|in-the-gloam´|ing
And-bus´|i-ly-all´|the-night´
Had-been-heap´|ing-field´|and-high´|way
With-a-si´|lence-deep´|and-white´
The scansion of the sixth stanza may be shown as follows:
Up-spoke´|our-own´|lit-tle-Ma´|bel
Say-ing-Fa´|ther-who-makes´|it-snow´
And-I-told´of-the-good´|All-Fa´|ther
Who cares´|for-us-here´|be-low´
They are musical stanzas, and the finely chosen words add much to the
melody.
D. _Sentiment._ Lowell had a little daughter, Blanche, who died shortly
before this poem was composed, so we may be sure that it was written
from a full heart. He begins by giving us one of the most beautiful
pictures of a snow-storm and of a snow-covered world that was ever
written.
(Compare Lowell's other description of winter to be found in the second
part of _The Vision of Sir Launfal_ and Whittier's description in
_Snow-Bound_.)
When he has made us feel the softness, gentleness and beauty of the snow
and caused us to forget that it is cold and damp, he speaks of himself.
We can see him sitting by the window looking out upon the beautiful
pearl-clad world. He brings us right into his own presence and we can
almost see the flocks of startled brown snowbirds whirling by. Not till
now, when we are fully in sympathy with him, does he let us know that he
has met with a deep, heart-breaking loss. Now we know what the soft
flakes are hiding from sight, and our hearts go out with his.
Then his innocent little daughter comes in with the simple, commonplace
question which he answers so touchingly. Can you not see him with his
arm around the child, telling her of the care of the Father who loves
little children so dearly? Yet his mind cannot free itself wholly from
his first great sorrow, though he remembers that calmness, resignation,
and gentle patience fell over his heart as the soft snow falls flake by
flake from the leaden sky.
To the child, however, he speaks words that she will not fully
understand until she, too, is grown and has met with sorrow: "It is only
the merciful Father, darling, who can make fall that gentle comfort that
heals and hides all suffering."
Once more our hearts are wrung with sympathy when with tear-filled eyes
he gives the little maiden by his side the kiss that was for the silent
lips in sweet Auburn. The little one, kissing back, could not know the
grief of her father's heart or realize that another form than hers was
clasped in his embrace.
How much better we know the great poet when he tells us his personal
griefs in so touching a manner! How sweet is the lesson of patience and
resignation when communicated in such a beautiful poem!
E. _Beauty and Effectiveness in Phrasing._ Where in literature will you
find more beautiful phrases, more effective figures, than abound in this
poem? Notice particularly the following, and try to determine why each
is remarkable:
"With a silence deep and white."
"Ermine too dear for an earl."
"Stiff rails softened to swan's down."
"The noiseless work of the sky."
"the leaden sky
That arched o'er our first great sorrow."
"The scar of our deep-plunged woe."
"Folded close in deepening snow."
F. _Conclusion._ _The First Snowfall_ is one of the most perfect poems
in our language. In beauty of composition, of music, of sentiment, and
in deep religious feeling it can scarcely be excelled. Be guarded how
you teach it; treat it reverently. Try to cause the children to love it,
to wish to memorize it. If you see that you are not securing these
results, leave the poem and take up something else. It is almost a sin
to spoil it for any person.
_The Potato_
(Volume II, page 467)
Thomas Moore's amusing stanza may seem silly to some people, but those
who have a sense of humor will be delighted with the whimsical
conception of a potato with so independent a spirit. It usually spoils
humor to comment upon it. To explain a joke is to kill it. The sense of
humor is contagious. Children will laugh when older people smile just
from sympathy. When they ask "what's the joke?" it is time to explain.
Even then it is best to give merely facts and let the joke make its own
way. Laughter lightens many a heavy burden, and a sense of humor is a
saving grace. Cultivate it by indirection.
_Origin of the Opal_
(Volume II, page 480)
The opal is a beautiful stone which seen at different angles and in
different lights seems to glow with various colors. The polished
surface may seem, as you first look at it, to be only a milky white.
Turn it a little and it glows a bright flame color with green lights
round the margin. Turned a little more it shows violet and silver. Other
shades mingle with these, all coming and going as light and position
vary. A fine opal is a wonderfully brilliant precious stone.
The idea of the poem, too, is beautiful. Here is a transparent dewdrop;
in it is the flame of the last ray of sun. As the drop lies in the
violet it takes that color, and steals from the rose her delicate
shades. From the sky it draws the blue, from a leaf its green and
silver. When all these colors have been taken in, the drop is congealed,
and imprisoned in its heart are the fiery flame, the rich violet, the
rose tints, the skyey blue, the delicate green and the gleaming silver.
This is the opal.
_The Barefoot Boy_
(Volume IV, page 3)
On page 5 occur the lines,
"Mine, on bended orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!"
According to the old Greeks, there lay far to the west, in the ocean, a
wonderful island where were kept, under the guard of a gruesome dragon,
the beautiful golden apples which Gaea gave as a wedding present to
Zeus. The Hesperides were the three daughters of Night, who ruled the
guardian dragon. These golden apples, then, came to be known as the
apples of Hesperides. When Hercules in his madness had slain his three
children he was condemned to do whatever his cousin Eurystheus demanded
for his purification. His tasks came to be known as the Twelve Labors of
Hercules, and the eleventh was to obtain the golden apples from the
Hesperides. He accomplished this task among the others, but the apples
were subsequently restored. To the barefoot boy the apples of his New
England tree were as choice as the golden ones of the Greek myth.
Do not fail to see the exquisite picture painted by these beautiful
descriptive lines on pages 5 and 6.
"O'er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swing fold."
_The Bugle Song_
(Volume VI, page 133)
Among the many charming lyrics which Tennyson has written, there are few
more musical or more delicately beautiful than _The Bugle Song_. It may
be appreciated better perhaps if we have knowledge of its setting. It
occurs in _The Princess_, and has no immediate connection with anything
that precedes or follows.
Three pairs of youthful lovers have been climbing above a lovely glade
wherein is pitched the tent of the Princess. As they climbed, "Many a
little hand glanced like a touch of sunshine on the rocks, and many a
light foot shone like a jewel set in the dark crag." They wound about
the cliffs, and out and in among the copses, striking off pieces of
various rocks and chattering over their stony names, until they reached
the summit and the sun grew broader as he set and threw his rosy light
upon the heights above the glade. When in this poetic vein Tennyson has
described the scene, he throws in _The Bugle Song_ without any comment.
We will understand it better if we paraphrase it briefly. Let us imagine
ourselves standing on some peak and looking over a scene lighted by the
setting sun.
"The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story."
The light in long quivering beams is thrown across the lakes, and a wild
cataract, made glorious by the golden light, leaps down a neighboring
precipice. At this moment, somewhere in the distance we hear a bugle
which sets wild echoes flying in every direction about us. As these
echoes die away,
"O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going,"
there comes reflected to us from cliff and abrupt promontory the faint
sound of the little horns of Fairyland. To them the purple glens reply
in echoes gently dying into silence. O love, those echoes die away in
the rich sky, and faint into nothingness on hill and field and river;
but echoes of our thoughts, our feelings, of ourselves, roll on from one
soul to another and grow in power forever and forever.
The music in the lyric is dependent upon the choice of words and the
arrangement of words. The words are chosen because of their meaning and
because of the sounds which compose them. They are so arranged that the
sequence is melodious and that the accents fall where needed to perfect
the meter. The first three lines are perfectly smooth and regular, but
the fourth is an abrupt change; "And the wild cataract leaps in glory"
suggests power and strong interrupted motion. The last two lines of the
stanza are somewhat irregular in meter, and the double repetition of the
last word suggests the time elapsing while the echoes are flying back
and forth between the surrounding cliffs, growing fainter and fainter
with each repetition. In reading we show this: "Blow, bugle," is the
original sound; we pause for the echoes to answer, "dying, dying,
dying."
In the second stanza the poet has selected words in which the vowels
have thin and delicate sounds:
"how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!"
So soft are the echoes that they suggest to the poet the delicate
refrain from the musical instruments of fairies, and he describes it in
the poetic phrase,
"The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!"
The meter of the last stanza, which is more irregular than the others,
we can indicate as follows:
O love´|they die´|in yon´|rich sky´
They faint´|on hill´|or field´|or riv´|er:
Our ech´|oes roll´|from soul´|to soul´,
And grow´|for ev´|er and´|for ev´|er
Blow, bu´|gle, blow´|--set´|the wild ech´|oes fly´|ing,
And an´|swer, ech´|oes, an´|swer, dy´|ing, dy´|ing, dy´|ing.
In the next to the last line there are five feet and one added syllable,
if we consider that the pause which we naturally make before the word
_set_ is equivalent to a syllable. In the last line there are six feet
with an added syllable. This additional foot which appears in the last
line of every stanza is introduced to imitate the lingering death of the
echoes.
After this study of the poem it should be read several times aloud in an
effort to bring out the music; the first stanza in the pitch of ordinary
conversation, with force in the fourth line and lingering intonations in
the last line. The pitch of the second stanza should be higher, and it
will be easily attained because of the predominance of the thin vowels.
The third stanza calls for a pitch lower than the first and a slowness
and solemnity of movement quite in contrast to the moderate rate of the
first and the liveliness and gaiety of the second. It will be seen in
these readings that there is an overlying melody in the stanzas, quite
distinct from the rhythm that depends upon the meter, and that in the
reading the meter naturally falls subservient to the melody of the
phrases. In fact, in a poem of this kind the meter should be forgotten
in the reading, which should give itself wholly to bringing out the
meaning expressively, and to making the voice harmonize with the rich
music of the lines.
An analysis of _The Bugle Song_ will seem superfluous to the cultivated
reader, but if these suggestions help the learner to see something new,
to feel more acutely, to realize beauty more abundantly, their purpose
is accomplished.
_The Petrified Fern_
(Volume VII, page 77)
Some day when you want an interesting and delightful nature lesson that
is a little out of the ordinary, get, if you can, a fossil fern. If you
are in the city, doubtless you can get one from the museum, or, better
yet, you may find that among your pupils there is someone who has such a
specimen carefully treasured away. In some localities where the
limestone rock comes to the surface, especially in the coal measures,
these petrified ferns are very numerous. Show this to the class and get
them all interested in it.
If you cannot get a specimen to use, you can find a picture in the
encyclopedia or geology, or you can tell the pupils how in some places
it is possible to pick up from among the rocks on the surface of the
ground oblong pieces perhaps a half inch thick, in which, when they are
split open, you can see the impression of a fern, every vein showing
plainly and looking as clear in the dull gray as it showed when alive in
its green dress.
Tell the story of the fern something after this fashion:
"Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, so many years, in fact, that none
of us can tell how many, somewhere in a valley, there grew a beautiful
little fern, green and slender. It was as tender and delicate as the
ones you can find in the woods now, and grew in just such a shady place.
When the breezes crept down under the trees they waved the fern
gracefully about so that it gently touched the tall rushes that grew
above it and cast little shadows on the moss at its feet. Now and then
a playful sunbeam darted through the crevices in the leaves and found
the fern, and at night drops of dew stole silently in and made a
glistening crown upon its head. But there were no children then to find
it. It was long, long ago, when the earth was young, and nowhere on its
broad surface was a single human child.
"Out in the silent sea fishes larger than any that can be found now were
swimming about. Across the plains of the earth animals of wonderful
shapes and enormous size stalked clumsily and found their way into
stately forests. No man ever saw growing such trees as waved their giant
branches over the earth, for then Nature made things on a grander scale
than she does now. The little fern, however, was wild and simple, and
lived in its home unnoticed and uncared for by any of the great
creatures or the mighty trees. Still it grew on modestly in its own
sweet way, spreading its fronds and becoming more beautiful every day.
"Then suddenly one day the earth heaved up its mighty rocks and threw
them about in every direction. The strong currents of the ocean broke
loose and flooded over the land. They drowned the animals, moved the
plain, tore down the haughty woods and cast the great trunks about like
straw. They broke the little fern from its slender stalk, and burying it
deep in soft moist clay, hid it safely away.
"Many, many long centuries have passed since the day the useless little
fern was lost. Millions of human beings have come upon the earth, have
lived and been happy, have suffered, passed away, and have been
forgotten. The soft, moist clay that clasped the fern hardened into rock
and kept safely in its strong prison the delicate little frond.
"Then one day, not long ago, a thoughtful man studying Nature's secrets
far and wide found up in a valley where a stream had worn a deep
fissure, a queer little rock. When he looked at it, he saw running over
it a strange design, as though some fairy with its magic pencil had
drawn the outline of a fern with every vein distinct, showing in every
line the life of the long-lost plant. It was the fern I told you about.
"Isn't it strange that so delicate a thing as a fern could be kept clear
and fine through all those thousands of years when the earth was
changing and growing, and then finally be thrown up where a man could
find it and read its whole history? The poet, Mary Bolles Branch, saw
the little fern and wrote the beautiful lines which I now want to read
to you."
(Here read the poem, _The Petrified Fern_, found in _Journeys_, Volume
VII, page 77.)
There are very few words or expressions in the poem that will require
any explanation. At the end of the first stanza the phrase "keeping
holiday" means that as there were no human beings on the earth, there
was no real work being done.
At the end of the first line in the second stanza the word _main_ is an
old term that means _ocean_.
The last two lines of the third stanza are meant to show how different
life has been on the planet since man came. Until he appeared there was
no real agony; there was pain, for animals can suffer, but it takes a
mind and soul to know agony. Man cannot live except with suffering and
at a bitter cost.
Until the last two lines of the fourth stanza are reached the poem is
merely a beautiful and musical narrative. The last two lines are the
thought that comes to the poet when she considers the history of the
little fern. It is thinking such thoughts as this that make the poet
different from ordinary men. You and I might see the impression of the
fern and think it beautiful, but its beauty would not suggest to us the
comforting idea that
* * * "God hides some souls away
Sweetly to surprise us, the last day."
Our own poet Longfellow, in _The Builders_, voices a similar thought
when he says:
"Nothing useless is, or low;
Each thing in its place is best;
And what seems but idle show
Strengthens and supports the rest."
After you have presented these thoughts, read the poem again to the
children. Call attention to its musical structure, its simplicity, the
beauty of its expressions, and then read it a third time. It is one of
those beautiful things which may well be committed to memory.
It will be found very helpful, too, for the children to write the story
in prose and try to bring out the meaning. Let them use freely the words
of the poem, but a different arrangement of words, so that there shall
be left no trace of rhyme or meter in their prose.
[Illustration: ROBERT SOUTHEY
WILLIAM COWPER
ROBERT BURNS
LORD BYRON
JOHN KEATS
PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE]
_The Forsaken Merman_
(Volume VII, page 180)
One of the satisfactory poems for study in the middle years of school
life is the one whose name heads this paragraph. It is a great favorite
with most children who know it, but it has not found its way largely
into school use. For both of these reasons it is worthy of study.
I. _Preparation and General Plan._ Let the children read in turn, each
taking one stanza, and if a second reading seems desirable let them
exchange stanzas so that each will have a part new to himself. Be sure
to have a final reading, by yourself or by the best reader among the
children, which shall be continuous and without interruption; otherwise
the beautiful unity of idea and the relation of the different parts will
be overlooked.
II. _Words and Phrases and Sentences._ It is well to begin with the
study sentence by sentence. See that the meaning is clear. The following
suggestions may be of assistance:
_Page 180, line 6._ "Wild white horses"; the breakers, where the waves
are beaten into foam and flying spray.
_Line 7._ "Champ"; gnash their bits.
_Page 182, line 4._ "Stream." The ocean currents resemble streams of
water on land.
_Line 8._ "Mail"; scales. How could the snakes _dry_ their mail?
_Line 10._ "Unshut." Do fish have eyelids? Is a whale a fish? Does a
whale have eyelids? Do most people think of a whale as a fish?
_Line 18._ "Sate" is an old form for "sat." Can you find other old or
unusual words or expressions? Why does the poet use them?
_Line 25._ "Merman." The literature of the ancients contained frequent
allusions to mermaids, who were strange creatures with heads of
beautiful, long-haired maidens, but with scaly bodies and the tails of
fish. In pictures they are usually represented as sitting upon reefs
holding a mirror in one hand and combing their long locks with the
other. Holmes, in _The Chambered Nautilus_, speaks of the "cold
sea-maids" who "rise to sun their streaming hair." Mermen were not so
often spoken of, but there are some allusions to them. In later times
the mermaids were considered more as fairies, and there were many
stories of human children being taken to live with the mermaids, and of
the latter coming upon land to live like men and women. There was, too,
a belief that sea-folk had no souls, and that a person who went to live
with them would lose his soul. The beautiful picture on page 181 shows
the forsaken family.
_Line 10_, from the bottom. "Leaded panes." The small panes of stained
glass in the church windows are set in narrow leaden frames.
_Page 185, line 4._ "Heaths" and "broom". The English and Scotch
heathers are little bushy shrubs that cover the hills and fields. They
bear beautiful little bell-like pink or white flowers. The trailing
arbutus, the blueberry and the wintergreen are some of our native plants
belonging to the same family. The broom plant is another low shrub that
bears rather large yellow blossoms, shaped like the flowers of peas and
beans. The old-time country-folk used bundles of these shrubs for
brooms.
_Line 10._ There have been several allusions to tides. If the children
do not understand the subject, be sure to explain how different a shore
looks at high and at low tide. The change is most noticeable where the
water is shallow, for then long stretches of sea-bottom may be uncovered
at low tide.
III. _The Story._ Bring out by questions these facts which constitute
the "plot," or incidents:
1. A merman, who has a family of children (five, the artist says, page
181), has been deserted by his human wife.
2. The father and children are on shore trying to persuade the mother to
return. The father feels that all must go back.
3. He begs the children to call their mother once more, for he thinks
that childish voices, wild with pain, may induce her to come.
4. He feels discouraged.
5. He tells how she became alarmed and left them at Easter time to
return to her church and pray, that she might save the soul she feared
she was losing.
6. The father and children had come on shore to find their mother. She
was seen praying in the church, working at her spinning wheel at home,
happy but apparently not wholly forgetful of her family in the sea, for
she sighed and dropped a tear as she looked over the sand to the sea.
7. The father feels that his wife is cruel and faithless and that she
has deserted, forever, himself and his family, the kings of the sea.
IV. _The Characters._ Question the children till they see clearly the
persons.
1. The principal character is the deserted merman, a king of the sea.
Ought he to expect his wife to stay with him?
2. The wife, a human being who has loved a merman, and who has a family
of sea children, but who has suddenly become awakened to the danger to
her soul. Is she selfish? Ought she to have forsaken her family? Can she
really be happy away from her husband and family?
3. The children. How many were there? How old were they? Were there both
boys and girls? Do you think Mr. Reese had a clear idea of the family
when he drew the picture (page 181)? There must have been at least
three, for it is said that the mother tended the youngest well; at least
one girl, for the mother sighed for the strange eyes of a little
mermaiden.
4. The priest.
V. _Pictures._ Two series of pictures are kept side by side all the
time; one of the land, and the other of the sea. Try to create a vivid
scene from each.
_First_, on land: We can see a little town, nestling on the side of a
bleak, wind-swept hill, an old English town with a white stone wall all
around it. On the hill, which is too rough to be cultivated, grow great
fields of heather, studded with the golden blossoms of broom-plant. A
little gray stone church stands surrounded by its yard, where the
village dead are buried, for such was the old custom in England. The
stones are at the head of the graves, and the walls of the church are
rain- and storm-worn, but bright stained-glass windows in the building
and flowers and trees among the graves make the place very beautiful.
Some of the windows are clear, so that you can look through and gaze
along the aisle bordered by high wooden pews and see the priest reading
service, and, by one of the stone pillars, the merman's wife, her eyes
steadily gazing at the bible in her lap. You are privileged, too, to
peep into one of the thatched cottages, and see the mother turning the
old-fashioned spinning wheel. From her house there is a wide view down
the hill, across the bay and out to sea. At high tide the breakers dash
madly against the shore, but at low tide there is a broad strip of
silver sand, rocks covered with sea-weed, and in the low places, creeks
and pools of salt water. Does the artist's picture represent high or low
tide?
_Second_, at sea: Deep beneath the surface of the water where the waves
toss and roar, where the surf and spray dash madly about, are great
caverns strewn with white sand. It is cool down there in the depths, and
the light filtering through the clear green sea is weak and pale. The
water streams through caverns, swaying the exquisite sea-weeds that line
the walls; and outside, round about, whales, sea-snakes and all manner
of water beasts swim in play or struggle for mastery. In one of the
caverns stands a great throne of red gold, ornamented with graceful sea
fringe, pearls and amber. From without one may gaze up to the
amber-colored ceiling, or down to the pavement of lustrous pearl. It was
this wondrous palace that the mermaid abandoned for the sake of her
soul.
VI. _Sentiment._ It is, on the whole, a sad poem, though a few cheering
thoughts are suggested by it. Without an attempt at classification and
analysis, here are a few choice ideas taken in order as they occur:
_Page 180._ "Children's voices should be dear to a mother's ear."
_Page 183._ "Long prayers in the world they say."
_Page 183._ "Oh joy, for the blessed light of the sun!"
_Page 185._ The last stanza shows very pleasingly the faithfulness of
father and children, in contrast to the inconstancy of the mother.
VII. _Beauty._ Besides its sentiment, the poem gives us other beauties
in great number. Here are some of them:
_a. Unity._ The poem has one idea running through it from beginning to
end, an idea that is nowhere lacking, though at first it is not seen.
What is the one idea? Grief, but not bitterness nor anger. Each
succeeding stanza is seen to add something to this idea, till all our
sympathies are enlisted for the forsaken children, more than for the
father who does all the talking.
_b. Meter and Rhyme._ Both meter and rhyme are irregular, but that fact
gives a pleasing variety to the poem and corresponds to the somewhat
abrupt changes in the line of thought that at first make the poem rather
hard to read. The children will be interested in comparing the lengths
of lines in different stanzas and sometimes in different parts of the
same stanza. It is easy to pick out the rhymes, to see how often rhymes
are repeated in a stanza, and whether the lines are in couples or
alternate.
_c. Phrases._ The following lines are quoted as those perhaps best
worth study and remembrance. Let the children determine why they were
selected as beautiful lines; that is, determine in what respect the
lines are beautiful:
"Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray."
"The far-off sound of a silver bell."
"Where the sea snakes toil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine."
"A long, long sigh
For the cold, strange eyes of a little Mermaiden."
"A ceiling of amber,
A pavement of pearl."
"Heaths starr'd with broom."
_The Cloud_
(Volume VII, page 257)
This lyric has wonderful beauty. It is one of the most musical of poems,
the ideas are fine and the pictures of surpassing charm. If it lacks the
high message it is still an inspiration, for beauty is always ennobling
to the appreciative.
The charm of _The Cloud_ will appeal to children but it may be
intensified by judicious questioning and comment. As always in trying to
give appreciation of real literature, the teacher in the home or at the
school must be certain of his purpose and must never carry the
instruction too far. He must understand the nature of the reader and
shape his questions accordingly. It is impossible to print anything that
will be helpful equally to all or that can be used in its entirety in
any instance. Do not talk too much about what is evident, and stop at
the first signs of a dawning distaste.
_First Stanza._ It is the cloud that is speaking, and as every cloud is
ever changing, the song of the cloud varies with its condition. It is
now the cloud of the warm summer shower that piles up in snowy billows
on the horizon and rolls over the laughing face of flowering nature.
How do the flowers show that they are thirsting? Will they look
different when their thirst is satisfied? Do leaves dream? Leaves, you
know, are the lungs of plants. May they do more work in the morning, the
evening and the night, than at midday? May they be said to be sleeping
at times? Is the shade of the cloud a help to the leaves? Did you ever
see the leaves of trees turn their glazed upper surfaces toward the
ground and twist up their under sides toward the sky, begging for
moisture? Did you ever notice that the buds of most flowers open in the
night or toward morning? Do the "dews awaken" these? Do clouds cause
dews?
Strictly speaking, no "dews" fall from clouds; but light mist may do so.
Who is the mother of the buds? In what way are they "rocked to rest"?
How does the mother "dance about the sun"? Do you like the sound of the
line, "I wield the flail of the lashing hail"? There are five "l's" in
the line and they give it that liquid sound which you like. Did you ever
see a farmer standing in the midst of a floor covered with stalks of
grain, beating out the kernels with a flail? What does the word "under"
mean here? (An adverb, and means _down_ or _into subjection_.) What does
"it" refer to, in the next to the last line?
_Second stanza._ Who is the pilot of the cloud? Where does he sit? What
lures the pilot? Who are the "genii"? (A _genius_--plural, _genii_--is a
good or evil spirit which was supposed by the ancients to guard a man
and control his destinies. In a sense the spirit of the waters may be
said to control the lightning.) Who move "in the depths of the purple
sea"? (The word "dream" would be written "dreams" in prose. The two
lines mean: "Wherever the lightning thinks the spirit he loves is to be
found.") Who is dissolving in rains? Is there much lightning while the
rain is falling or does it usually precede or follow the heaviest part
of the shower?
_Third Stanza._ "Sanguine" means "blood red"; "rack" or "wrack" is
broken or floating cloud. What is the "morning star"? What is meant by
its "shining dead"? What are the "burning plumes" and what the "meteor
eyes" of the sunrise? What becomes of broken clouds when the sun strikes
them? What is likened to an eagle that is "alit" on a crag? What is the
"airy nest" of the cloud? What is a "brooding" dove? Is a dove more
quiet than other birds? Did you ever see a cloud high in the sky at
early dawn, at sunset, in the night? Does this stanza make you think of
what you have seen, make you see it again more vividly?
_Fourth Stanza._ "Orbed" means "round" like the moon. The woof is the
thread that in weaving is carried by the shuttle through the threads of
the "warp"--here it means the "filling." The ancients considered Diana,
goddess of the moon and of hunting, to be a beautiful girl, haughty and
modest. In pictures she was clothed as a huntress, carried a bow and
arrows and wore a crescent in her hair. Is the moon's light white? Is
that phrase a beautiful one which speaks of the moon as "with white
fire laden"? What is the position of the cloud in this stanza? Is it
between the moon and the earth? Is the cloud the "fleece-like floor" of
the sky? If so, when the cloud speaks of its "tent's thin roof," what is
meant? (Perhaps when the moon looks down the cloud looks like a floor
and when the earth looks up it sees the cloud like a tent.) Whose are
the "unseen feet"? At what do the stars "peer"? What do they see first?
Why do they "turn and flee like a swarm of golden bees"? What do the
stars see when the rent is widened? With what are the rivers, lakes and
seas paved? How can they be paved with moon and stars? Did you ever see
the moon and stars reflected in a lake, the former perhaps making a
broad glittering pavement across the waters? To what does "these" in the
last line refer? Why did not Shelley write "stars" instead of "these"?
Can you see the exquisite night pictures described in these lines?
_Fifth Stanza._ This stanza is characterized by force and intensity of
action; the words and phrases are as apt and beautiful as can be
written.
Have you not seen the west when the clouds appeared a fiery red around
the setting sun? Have you not seen the moon surrounded by bright pearly
clouds? When the winds blow strong and whirl the fleecy clouds through
the sky do not the latter make the mountain tops dim and do not the
stars seem to dash across the heavens in a maddening race? Ever
changing, the clouds constantly rearrange themselves, sometimes bridging
the entire heavens, resting at the horizon upon the mountains as upon
columns.
What is the "triumphal arch"? What are the powers of the air? What is
meant by saying they are "chained to the chair" of the cloud? Is the
"triumphal arch" the "million-colored bow"? What is the "bow" that is
said to be "million-colored"? What wove the soft colors of the
million-colored bow? What is the "sphere fire"? What did it do? Whose
soft colors did it weave? What was the earth doing while the colors were
being woven? Why should the earth be laughing? Why is it spoken of as
the moist earth?
_Sixth Stanza._ A cenotaph in an empty ornamental tomb. The body of the
person to whom the monument has been erected is buried elsewhere.
In what way is a cloud the daughter of the earth and water? In what way
is it the nurseling of the sky? How can a cloud pass through the pores
of the ocean and shores? What are the pores of the ocean and shores? Is
it true that a cloud cannot die? Is the poet true to nature and science
when he says:
"For after the rain, when, with never a stain,
The pavilion of heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams,
Build up the dome of the air"?
What is the "cenotaph" of the cloud? Out of what does the cloud rise
again? What is there appropriate in saying that the cloud rises like a
ghost? What is it the cloud builds up again?
Note the following particularly beautiful phrases:
"Leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams."
"Great pines groan aghast."
"The sanguine sunrise, with his meteor eyes."
"The crimson pall of eve."
"The woof of my tent's thin roof."
"My wind-built tent."
"The million-colored bow."
"Nurseling of the sky."
"With never a stain
The pavilion of heaven is bare."
Read aloud the entire lyric till its sweet music is yours. Note the
smooth rhythm, the peculiar adaptation of sound to sense, the flowing
cadences in the lines.
_Ode to a Skylark_
(Volume VII, page 275)
There are three classes of lyrics that are to a greater or less degree
in the nature of an address to some person, place or thing. The elegy is
a lyric address praising the dead, the ode and the sonnet may praise
living or dead. The elegy in its measures partakes of the solemnity of
the grave, the ode is hampered by no such restrictions. Neither is the
sonnet, although by its strict requirements of form it is set off in a
class by itself. In the ode the poet enjoys his greatest freedom, for he
may use any meter, may write at any length and in any manner, grave, gay
or grotesque. Accordingly the odes of our language are most spontaneous,
musical, inspiring and beautiful.
_The Skylark_ is a perfect example of an ode at its best. It is full of
life and joy. It sparkles in every line and vies in music with the song
of the lark himself.
"Hail to thee, _blithe spirit_!--
Bird thou never wert."--
Those two lines are to be taken as the key note of the whole lyric. It
is the spirit of free and perfect melody that Shelley is addressing,
melody that comes from heaven or near it, that bubbles from the full
heart, that is free from rules and conventions, unpremeditated, yet all
art. It is "Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun." "What thou
art we know not," yet thou art like a poet hidden singing hymns
unbidden; like a high-born maiden soothing her love-laden soul in
secret; like a hidden glowworm scattering its hues unbeholden; like a
rose embowered in its leaves making faint the thieving winds with its
heavy scent. Its music surpasses the delicate sounds of vernal showers
on the twinkling grass, the beauty of the rain-awakened flowers, and all
that ever was clear and fresh and joyous. Such is the song.
"What are the thoughts that inspire such heavenly melody?" the poet
cries. "Teach us, teach us thy sweet thoughts. I have never heard such a
flood of rapture so divine. Matched with thy music the noblest marriage
hymn, the grandest Te Deum would be but an empty boast. From what
fountains springs thy happy strain? Is it from fields, or waves or
mountains, from strange shapes of the sky and plain? Is it from
ignorance of pain, from love of thine own kind that the joyous music
comes? Certainly thou lovest, but there can be no weariness in thy keen
joy, no shadow of annoyance. How different we!
"We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
"Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near."
"To me, the poet, thy skill would be better than all the measures of
delightful sound, than all the treasures found in books and if I could
sing one half as well as thou, the world would listen to me entranced as
I am listening to thee."
If the song of the lark is beautiful, the song of the poet is not
surpassed. The riotous spirit of music sings in every line, beauty is
seen in every stanza, is lavished upon every phrase, upon every
melodious verse. The prodigality of beautiful phrases is marvelous. The
phrases descriptive of the bird alone are strikingly apt and numerous:
"Blithe spirit"; "bird thou never wert"; "like a cloud of fire"; "like
an unbodied joy"; "like a star of heaven"; "like a poet hidden in the
light of thought"; "like a highborn maiden in a palace tower"; "like a
glowworm golden"; "like a rose embowered"; "sprite and bird"; "thou
scorner of the ground."
To characterize the song properly, the poet finds it necessary to use
these phrases: "Profuse strains of unpremeditated art"; "shrill
delight"; "keen as are the arrows of that silver sphere"; "all the earth
and air with thy voice is loud"; "a rain of melody"; surpassing the
"sound of vernal showers" and of "rain-awakened flowers" and "all that
ever was joyous, clear and fresh"; "a flood of rapture so divine";
beside it a "hymenæal chorus" or a "triumphal chaunt" is "but an empty
vaunt"; "clear, keen joyance," "notes flow in such a crystal stream."
Besides the ardent appreciation for the beautiful song, the lyric
contains one sad truth exquisitely expressed:
"We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought."
And finally, there is the consummate personal appeal of the poet, which,
if we may judge by the matchless lyric, was answered by the same spirit
that inspired the graceful scorner of the ground:
"Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now!"
Compare the following lyric on the same subject by James Hogg:
Bird of the wilderness,
Blithesome and cumberless,
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place--
O, to abide in the desert with thee!
Wild is thy lay and loud,
Far in the downy cloud
Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.
Where, on thy dewy wing,
Where art thou journeying?
Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.
O'er fell and mountain sheen,
O'er moor and mountain green,
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day,
Over the cloudlet dim
Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar, singing away!
Then when the gloaming comes,
Low in the heather blooms
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place
O, to abide in the desert with thee.
Various interpretations and helpful comments of other kinds may be found
on the following pages:
Volume I, page 95. _The Rock-a-By Lady._
Volume I, page 204. _Old Gaelic Lullaby._
Volume I, page 350. _Keepsake Mill._
Volume I, page 406. _The Fairies._
Volume II, page 482. _In Time's Swing._
Volume IV, page 86. _The Village Blacksmith._
Volume V, page 335. _How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to
Aix._
Volume V, page 396. _The American Flag._
Volume VII, page 345. _The Reaper's Dream._
Volume VIII, page 60. _America._
CHAPTER XII
READING ALOUD
Silent reading is selfish, while oral reading is for the benefit and
pleasure of others. The ordinary individual in daily life reads but
little aloud, and probably makes no attempt whatever to improve his
style after he leaves the schoolroom. But parents and teacher are
incessantly called upon to read--to read intelligently and effectively.
To some this power appears to come naturally, but most people acquire it
only by serious study and continuous practice, and will find their
greatest assistance in a thorough knowledge of those things which are
essential to pleasing oral expression.
1. ARTICULATION AND ENUNCIATION. Articulation is one thing; enunciation
is another. A person articulates the sounds of a language; he enunciates
the syllables and words. A clear and distinct enunciation is as
necessary as the perfect articulation on which it is based. Indistinct
enunciation comes from a natural slovenliness of mind, from nervousness,
haste or over-excitement.
Any one who can articulate correctly can acquire a perfect enunciation.
Knowing this fact, and knowing the causes which lead to poor
enunciation, it is comparatively easy to correct the faults and give
drill which will overcome the carelessness or remove the difficulty.
2. EMPHASIS AND INFLECTION. The primary facts upon which rests
intelligibility in reading are emphasis and inflection. Let it be said
at the start that no one can read well who has not thoroughly mastered
the thought in the selection he is rendering. If he is compelled to
search his mind for the meanings of words or to grasp the complete idea
of a sentence, he unwittingly pauses and hesitates and confuses the
ideas of his hearers. But if the thought of a selection is thoroughly
mastered, he places the emphasis almost unerringly and by so doing
raises no conflicting ideas in the mind of the listener. Moreover, if
the meaning of a sentence is clear to a reader his inflections are
ordinarily correct.
3. EMOTIONAL STATES. A person may read with perfect inflection and the
most correct emphasis, yet fail altogether to convey the real feeling of
the author. Not only must a reader master the thought, but it is
essential that he be able to feel the emotions that possessed the author
or manifested themselves in the characters he describes. If anyone is
thoroughly possessed by the sentiment of any given poem, the quality of
his voice will modify itself and respond to the behests laid upon it. He
will unconsciously pitch his voice at the proper key, will use the right
amount of force, and speak at the rate which most suitably expresses his
feelings. When this is done, we have perfectly natural reading, the
highest art.
Pitch, rate, quality and force are the particular characteristics of
good reading which depend almost entirely upon the mental state of the
reader.
a. Pitch. Much depends upon the proper pitch of the voice. The key upon
which one reads may be medium, or low, or high, and what it is depends
upon certain physiological conditions. If the vocal chords are tense,
the pitch is high. Accordingly, any state of mind that produces tense
vocal chords produces high pitch in the voice. A person can forcibly
tighten his vocal chords and utter sounds at high pitch, but they are
strained, artificial and unnatural. If a certain amount of feeling goes
with the effort, the tones become more agreeable.
If a person's voice is pitched too high, is harsh and unmelodious, the
remedy is by way of a process of forgetting. He must forget that he is
reading and feel that he is talking. If his conversation is marked by
the same faults as his reading, he may gain something by imitation in
the way of raising his standards of expression. In general, he reads
harshly because he thinks he _must_ read. The nervous tension which this
feeling produces has affected his vocal chords without any intention on
his part. He cannot read more expressively while he feels as he does.
Harshness and unnatural pitch will disappear from his voice when he can
forget that he is reading from compulsion.
For practice the following selections are excellent:
_Gettysburg Address_, IX, 321.
_Boat Song_, VII, 17.
_Battle of Waterloo_, VIII, 176.
b. Rate or Time. The rate at which a person reads, or the time consumed
in any one selection, is regulated by the extent or breadth of thought
and by the rapidity of action. There is a certain medium or ordinary
time in which those selections that are in no way emotional are read.
Commonplace selections, not calculated to stir the feelings, are of this
character, as are simple narratives where the incidents are unexciting.
This medium or standard time may be varied in two ways: first, by the
quantity of time taken in the utterance of certain words or syllables,
and second, by pauses between sentences or groups of words. Rate,
however, usually depends more upon the grouping of words and the length
of the pauses between groups than upon the utterance of syllables. The
rate of syllabic utterance is usually a personal characteristic. Some of
us articulate rapidly, while others of more phlegmatic temperament speak
slowly.
In conversation or in perfectly natural reading, we usually utter with
one impulse of the voice those words which are closely related in
meaning. These words so uttered form groups that are usually quite
independent of punctuation. Punctuation marks are for the eye and are
intended to make clear the meaning. They do not separate the sentence
into units of expression. Only the terminal marks are of any great
importance either in suggesting the inflection or indicating the length
of the pause. A good reader notices the marks insomuch as they make
clear the thought, but largely disregards them in his reading.
The person who reads too rapidly has a mind that is very quick in its
action or one that is not fully occupied with the thought of his
selection; he may have a vague understanding, but does not realize the
full extent and import of the idea. If he reads too slowly, he is
naturally slow in thought, or the words come to him slowly through his
eyes, his organs of speech are not sufficiently under control, or he
does not appreciate the difference between the principal ideas and those
of minor importance. Find the central idea, group others about it in
proper degrees of subordination, feel the sentiment in what is being
read, and the time usually will be correct. There are worse faults in
reading than undue rapidity or slowness, for we can make our minds keep
pace with the reader, if in other respects his expression is good.
The following selections afford considerable variety in rate:
_Exciting Canoe Race_, VII, 79.
_Those Evening Bells_, VII, 340.
_Charge of the Light Brigade_, VII, 147.
_Marco Bozzaris_, VIII, 90.
c. Quality. The quality of the voice is almost entirely dependent upon
the emotions. Tenderness, love, joy, awe, fear, all produce their effect
upon the voice. In an unemotional state the person speaks in normal
quality and in the tone that is natural to himself. If the same person
is frightened or if his animosity is aroused, he speaks in an aspirated
tone; if he feels harshly toward anyone or is angry, his voice possesses
that guttural quality which indicates the severer and harsher emotion;
when he is moved by grandeur and sublimity, his voice naturally takes a
full, round quality.
d. Force. The quantity of mental energy the person possesses usually
regulates the force of his utterance, and that mental energy is
stimulated by his emotions. If he feels thoroughly in earnest in what he
is trying to accomplish, his voice becomes loud and full of force. It is
then a natural force and is usually agreeable, unless the emotion which
causes it is of an unpleasant type.
But it is often true, particularly of teachers who have been long in
service and those persons who have talked under unfavorable conditions
to large numbers of people, that their voices have become too loud and
too much strained to be pleasant to the ear. A soft, pleasing voice,
loud enough to be distinctly audible, is always better than a strident,
forcible utterance that compels attention whether one will or not.
Extremes of force may be found in the following selections:
_Sweet and Low_, VI, 122.
_To a Waterfowl_, VII, 395.
_The Destruction of Sennacherib_, VI, 141.
_Little Red Riding Hood_, I, 79.
CHAPTER XIII
LITERATURE AND ITS FORMS
It is not everyone who can tell readily what is meant by literature, nor
can anyone in a few words define it. What the study of "literature"
(only the adult's manner of saying "reading") is expected to accomplish
was aptly described by Cardinal Newman when he wrote: "The object of
literature in education is to open the mind, to correct it, to refine
it, to enable it to comprehend and adjust its knowledge, to give it
power over its faculties--application, flexibility, method, critical
exactness, sagacity, address and expression." Reading at home and in the
public schools as well as in the high school and colleges helps to
accomplish these ends to a great extent.
Many persons fail to understand what literature is, and if they do
realize its importance they do not comprehend the great variety of its
forms nor the significance of each. To help such persons to a more
comprehensive knowledge and a deeper insight into the functions of
literature this chapter is written.
In its widest sense the word literature covers nearly every kind of
printed matter, but it is in its more restricted meaning that the term
is used here. Only that which is beautiful in form and expression,
inspiring and helpful in spirit, noble and righteous in sentiment can
be called literature as we are considering it. There may be weak and
frivolous books, well-meaning but inept books, and really bad books, but
none of them can be classed as literature.
Literary masterpieces are either prose or poetry, and in print the two
are easily recognizable by their difference in form. Coleridge once said
that prose consisted of words in their best order, while poetry was the
best words in their best order, a poetic definition that does not convey
a very accurate knowledge of the distinction. Poetry differs from prose
not only in the choice and arrangement of words, but also to a lesser
degree in sentiment and feeling. However, much verse, though faultless
in form, can never be considered real poetry, while much prose has real
poetic beauty.
_Prose_
The great bulk of the writings of the world is in prose. It is the
medium of hard sense, of practical knowledge, of argument and of
dialogue. Yet often it appeals to the imagination, charms with its
beauty and inspires to heroic deeds.
It seems to be generally accepted that four methods of expression are to
be found in prose: _narration_, _description_, _exposition_ and
_argumentation_. Narration deals with things in action, description with
the appearance of things, exposition explains the relations ideas bear
to one another, and argumentation not only does this, but tries at the
same time to convince. Theoretically, this distinction is very easy to
make, for action is the life of narration, appearance the theme of
description, explanation and exposition are synonymous, and no one
argues but with the hope of convincing. What can man do more than to
tell what has been done, tell how a thing looks, show how one thing
follows from another or is related to it, and endeavor to bring another
person to the same state of mind?
The accuracy and completeness of the classification is most evident
until one attempts to apply it practically to existing literature, and
then he finds that no literary masterpiece belongs entirely to any one
of the classes, but that these mingle and unite, one or the other
usually predominating. This ruling element, the one which is
proportionately greater, will govern the classification of a selection.
In any story, narration and description meet at every turn, and not
infrequently exposition is found freely intermingled; while novels have
been written with the avowed sole purpose of changing the beliefs of a
people. _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ is a story of intense dramatic activity, and
abounds in vivid descriptions of places and persons. It is generally
dealing with incidents relating to the characters of the story, yet it
really makes an exposition of the evils of slavery, and certainly was no
small factor in stirring the American people into vigorous action
against the slave dealers. Yet no one would classify the book otherwise
than among the narratives. Although into Burke's _Conciliation_ other
elements enter, yet everyone will admit it to be argumentative in the
highest degree. So while it is well to classify the selections read, yet
fine theoretical distinctions should be abandoned. It is not so
necessary to classify and name as it is to compare and distinguish.
Narratives have been classified variously, but not more satisfactorily
than have other forms of literature. A narrative is true or fictitious,
and there appears the first principle of classification. Truthful
narratives are personal when they are the simple account of the deeds of
some person or thing, biographical when they show a clear and evident
purpose to detail the events in the life of the person, historical when
they deal with larger and more complicated questions and when the actors
are as numerous as the actions are various. Fictitious narratives
comprise short stories and novels. One prominent writer notes the
following types: (1) The realistic novel that is true to actual life and
often enters into the discussion of important questions of record. (2)
The novel of life and manners which is largely descriptive and in which
the exigencies of the plot give way to the study of customs. (3) The
novel of incident in which the plot is everything and description and
character study are avoided or subordinated to action. (4) The romance
which usually deals with things as they were in days long past and with
actions that little concern the present. Marvelous and even supernatural
incidents crowd its pages. (5) The idealistic novel which paints the
world as it should be and makes its actors more nearly perfect than the
world accepts as typical. (6) The novel with a purpose which seeks to
convert its readers by the vividness of its portraits rather than by
argument, though by means of many detailed conversations its theories
are often freely discussed and fully substantiated. Many great reforms
have been brought about by novels of this character.
Description deals with the individual and not with the class. A fine
description is a work of art in its highest sense and is closely allied
to painting, than which it is even more delicate and refined; for while
the painter lays his color on the canvas and our eyes see the entire
picture in all its minutest detail, the writer can only suggest the idea
and stimulate the imagination to create for itself the picture in the
mind of the artist. Yet such is the marvelous power of words when
handled by a master that one can see by them almost as vividly as by the
sense of sight. The reader is transported to far-away lands, strange men
and animals surround him, the skies glare above him, silver lakes
sparkle in the sun, brooks murmur against their fern-covered sides, and
birds move the soul with their sweet music. Evening draws on, and the
landscape glimmering fades away; the stars come out one by one and by
and by the moon steals slowly up the sky. Peace and quiet reign over the
darkened world. Neither sculpture nor painting can depict these changes;
it rests with the magic of words. But the reader must do his share. He
must give time to his reading, must yield himself gently to its
influence, must not force himself into the writer's mood but must
receive and accept. Then descriptive literature will yield its keenest
pleasures.
Exposition deals with the class, and is abstract. So the demands made
upon the reader are infinitely greater. It assumes that the concrete
examples and specific instances necessary to interpret the abstract are
already in mind and that the barest allusion to them will be sufficient.
So exposition naturally follows narrative and description.
Successful argumentation depends upon proof and persuasion. It is
addressed to the reason or to the emotions. Burke and Webster endeavor
to establish their respective positions by irrefutable arguments. When
Beecher addressed the people on the slavery question he appealed
strongly to their emotions and sought to make them act because of their
intense feeling. One characteristic of all literary masterpieces is
unity, but in none is this of more importance than in the expository and
argumentative types.
As we study it, literary material may be grouped as fiction, essays,
speeches (orations), and dialogue (drama). No classification can be
rigid or exact, for one may blend into the other. At the same time in
any one may be found the four forms, description, narration, exposition
and argument. For our purposes, however, the following definitions will
answer: _Fiction_ is a term covering those narratives which are either
wholly or in part events that never happened and acts of individuals
that never lived. Fiction is the work of the imagination, based upon the
facts of life and observation. It appears as stories, in narrative poems
or epics, and in novels.
_Essays_ deal with all subjects and in such a variety of ways that any
attempt to classify them meets with difficulty. Originally an essay was
an attempt, a mere outline or plan intended to be filled out at greater
length or to be used in different form. It is in this sense that Bacon
uses the word and his essays are condensed to the highest degree. In
later years essays have come to be of the most highly finished type of
literature and some of the most beautiful passages, the noblest
thoughts, the most inspiring utterances, are to be found in them.
Almost every conceivable topic is treated: there are biographical essays
which do little more than narrate the facts of a man's life; there are
descriptive essays whose only function is to make their readers see
something as the author saw it; there are argumentative and didactic
essays and essays on science, art, religion, and literary criticism.
Some writers have given their whole time and attention to this form of
composition, and the modern magazine has become their distributing
agency. Much of the deepest, of the brightest, of the best of recent
work has come to its readers through this medium.
The essay shows more of the author's self than any other form of
literature. It is apt to be sincere, to be the deliberate expression of
the writer's own views formulated with the desire to convince another.
In the purely literary type this last characteristic is not so
strikingly prominent, though it appears rather under the surface. In no
form of literature is the artistic element more manifest. The prose
writer makes of his essay what the poet does of his lyric--the most
finished and beautiful expression of his thought. The thought is the
writer's chief concern, but upon his manner of expressing it depend the
force and value of his work. Accordingly he gives to his style his most
careful attention and fits and polishes it with all his skill. The
result is that in the essay are to be found the best examples of prose
style. While the essay frequently appeals to our humorous sense and
sometimes arouses our sympathy by its pathetic touches, yet no such
opportunity is offered for emotional effect as that given by the novel
or the drama.
The essay is written to be read, the _oration_ to be heard; the essay is
to please, to entertain, perhaps to instruct, sometimes to convince; the
oration is to arouse the feelings, to carry conviction, to stir the
public to action. It is a formal production, addressed directly to its
hearers; it is in form or meaning in the second person. Even when
descriptive or eulogistic, it is a direct address. The orator says,
"These are my opinions and my reasons for so thinking. Will you not
accept my view and act accordingly?"
The oration naturally divides itself into three sections. There is an
_introduction_, in which the speaker clears the way, opens the question
and lays down the principles he proposes to advocate, or indicates the
course of his argument. The _body_ follows. Here the principles are
elucidated, the arguments advanced and properly established or the
descriptions elaborated and finished. The last section is the
_conclusion_, which may consist of a brief review or summary of the
inferences drawn, or of a plea for belief and for action in accordance
with the principles of the speaker.
Before the art of printing was invented, public opinion was molded
almost entirely by public speaking, and for a great many years afterward
the orator was the greatest of leaders. By the magic of his eloquence he
changed the views of men and inspired them to deeds of valor. The fiery
orations of a Demosthenes, of a Cicero; the thrilling words of a Peter
the Hermit or a Savonarola; the unanswerable arguments of a Burke or a
Webster, have more than once turned the course of history.
But when the newspaper first found its way into the hands of thinking
men the power of the orator felt the influence of its silent opponent
and began to wane. Today, it is not often that multitudes are swayed by
a single voice. The debates and stump-speeches of a political campaign
change but few votes. The preacher no longer depends wholly upon the
convincing power of his rhetoric to make his converts. The
representatives of a people in a parliament or a congress speak that
their words may be heard through the newspapers by their constituents
more than with the expectation that their speech will carry a measure
through the House they are addressing.
Yet we will listen with pleasure to a fervid speaker whose earnestness
of manner carries the conviction of his sincerity, and even against our
will we are moved by elegant sentences and pleasing tones. The orator
will continue to be a power, though in a different way. Conditions have
changed, and the ponderous periods and elaborate figures that
characterized the orators of classic epochs are giving place to the
plain, lucid diction and the simple, true-hearted tones of the modern
speaker.
The drama is objective, the author keeping himself out of sight as much
as possible. His characters appear, speak their parts and vanish with no
explanatory words from him except the occasional stage direction limited
to the fewest possible words. There is no description, except when the
actors give an account of something that does not occur upon the stage.
There is little of narration, except to explain what does not appear
upon the scene or to give clearness to the action. Argument is not
infrequent, though it is usually in the form of a moving appeal to the
emotions rather than to the reason. The play often leads to exposition,
and many dramas are written with the evident intent of teaching a deep
and forceful lesson.
The drama shows man in action and develops his character before the
reader, but it is by acts and speech and not by direct description from
the author. It deals with all human interests and frequently
supernatural manifestations are introduced and become important factors
in the plot, particularly when they are believed in by the people who
appear in the drama. But in general it is a study of life and character.
Primarily the drama is to be heard, not read, and consequently its style
is usually clear and its meaning easily apprehended, but the complexity
of its incidents and the intricacies of its plot make it difficult to
follow. The rapidity of its action, the necessity of gathering the
meaning from a single hearing, and the intensity of feeling aroused
would all unite to confuse the hearer were it not for the skill of the
actor and the appropriateness of the stage settings. By the aid of
these, understanding is in most cases not difficult. The changing
scenery, the dress of the actors, their movements, the tones of their
voices, and the expression of their faces all aid the hearer. But the
interpretation then becomes that of the actor, so that the listener is
once removed from the author. Moreover, to the actor everything is
subservient to dramatic effect, and the study of an Othello descends
into an effort to excite an audience rather than to portray correctly
the shifting passions of the jealous Moor. The poet's creation is
adapted to the actor's use by the omission of scenes, changes of scenes,
and additions of scenes, by such verbal alterations and phrasal
transpositions that one does not see Shakespeare's Shylock demanding his
pound of flesh but watches Irving's Shylock whetting his savage knife;
Hamlet is lost in Booth, and Juliet weeps in the tears of Mary Anderson.
But the pleasure a person derives from listening to their thrilling
utterances is as distinct from that which comes to the appreciative
reader as the pleasures of the palate differ from those of the eye. To
the reader everything is his own. He carries his own theater with him.
The scenery he must himself construct and he may alter it at will; the
costumes and personal appearance of the characters are the creations of
his own mind; his thunder has no metallic sound and his lightning always
flashes. He may bring his favorites back with many an encore and may
show his disapproval with hisses that would drown the gallery. He may
linger over the passages he loves and find new encouragement in his
defeats and ever fresh joys for his hours of gloom. He is never hurried:
the lights never go out, the curtain is never rung down.
_Poetry_
The reality of poetry is its beauty, its power of inspiration, its
truth. Its beauty lies in its choice of words, in its figures of speech,
in its music and in its sentiment. Any definition that is not purely
formal is hard to give. Professor Shairp defined the soul of poetry when
he wrote: "Whenever the soul comes vividly in contact with any fact,
truth, or existence, which it realizes and takes home to itself with
more than common intensity, out of that meeting of the soul and its
object there arises a thrill of joy, a glow of emotion; and the
expression of that _glow_, that _thrill_, is poetry."
_The Structure of Poetry_
The form and structure of poetry should be studied, but not to so great
an extent as to blind the eye or deaden the appreciation of its beauty
and sentiment. Brown, who wrote the beautiful story _Rab and His
Friends_, has said, "It is with poetry as with flowers and fruits. We
would all rather have them and taste them than talk about them. It is a
good thing to know about a lily, its scientific ins and outs, its
botany, its archæology, even its anatomy and organic radicals; but it is
a better thing to look at the flowers themselves and to consider how
they grow."
If one reads poetry aloud he soon becomes sensible of a certain rhythm
or regular recurrence of accented syllables that gives a measured
movement to the lines. It is a recognition of this rhythm that makes a
child read in a "sing-song" tone, as natural a thing as it is to sing.
If we hear constantly repeated at frequent and regular intervals any
noise, there is a tendency to group these separate sounds and measure
them off regularly. The clock ticks with always the same force and with
the same space of time between the ticks, yet we hear _tick_-tack,
_tick_-tack; we can prove the difference to be in our ear, for it
requires but little effort to hear tick-_tack_ or _tack_-tick,
_tack_-tick. The ticking has not varied in the least.
The poet takes advantage of this rhythmical tendency of nature and by
using accented syllables at regular intervals compels us to recognize
the swing of his lines. When he reduces this to a system he has
established the _meter_ of his production. The poetical accents
sometimes fall on unaccented syllables and sometimes on monosyllabic
words that are not emphatic, but usually the metrical accent of any
given word corresponds to its logical accent. The accentuation of a
syllable tends to lengthen the time used in the pronunciation of that
syllable, and so we call it long, although the sound of its vowel may be
short. Short syllables are those which are unaccented, even though the
vowel has the long sound.
Verse appeals to the ear by its melodious combinations of sounds and
also by the regular recurrence of similar sounds in _rhymes_. These
usually occur at the ends of verses. In order that a rhyme may be
perfect the two rhyming syllables must both be accented, the vowel sound
and the consonants following must be identical, and the sounds preceding
the vowel must be different. For example, _fate_ and _late_ rhyme; _fat_
and _late_ do not; _fate_ and _lame_ do not; _debate_ rhymes with
_relate_, but not with _prelate_. Double rhymes occur frequently, as in
the words _bowlders, shoulders_.
Take this stanza from Hood's _Song of the Shirt_:
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags
Plying her needle and thread--
Stitch! Stitch! Stitch!
In poverty, hunger and dirt;
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the "song of the shirt."
Here the first and third lines are unrhymed, the second and fourth, the
fifth and seventh, and the sixth and eighth lines rhyme alternately in
couplets. If the beginnings of the verses are noticed it will be seen
that the indentations of the lines correspond with the rhymes.
Rhymes are not always used in poetry. Most of Shakespeare's plays are
written in _blank verse_, which is unrhymed iambic pentameter, called
_heroic verse_. _Hiawatha_ and _Evangeline_ are not rhymed, the former
being trochaic tetrameter and the latter largely dactylic hexameter.
Frequently appeal is made to the ear by a similarity of sound at the
beginning of words. This is known as _alliteration_. In early English
poems this was of prime importance and subject to rigid rules, but more
recently it has been used without rule, subject merely to the author's
will. This is seen to a marked degree in many writers. Here are several
lines taken from Poe's _The Bells_:
What a world of _m_erriment their _m_elody foretells,
What a _t_ale of _t_error now their _t_urbulency _t_ells.
In a mad expostulation with the dea_f_ and _f_rantic _f_ire.
In many cases alliteration is very skilfully handled, as where Whittier
uses the liquid consonants to make more smooth and harmonious to the ear
the line that tells the friendliness of the brooklet whose murmurings
could not be heard in winter, but--
"The music of whose _li_quid _li_p
Had been to us companionship"
during the long summer days.
The number of verses in a stanza varies from two to an indefinite
number. When there are two verses the stanza is called a couplet; a
three line stanza is called a tercet; a four line stanza, a quatrain.
The five line stanza is not common, but six is a frequent number.
_Kinds of Poetry_
Poems may be classified as epic, lyric and dramatic.
The word _epic_ is by some writers restricted in its application, but it
is preferred here to use it in a broad sense to include various forms of
narrative poetry, and to use the term greater, or heroic, epic to
designate the smaller class of narratives which the older writers knew
as epics. Thomas Arnold's definition of the greater epic is: "The
subject of the Epic Poem must be some one, great, complex action. The
principal personages must belong to the high places of the world, and
must be grand and elevated in their ideas and in their bearing. The
measure must be of sonorous dignity, befitting the subject. The action
is carried on by a mixture of narrative, dialogue, and soliloquy.
Briefly to express its main characteristics, the epic treats of one
great complex action, in grand style, and with fullness of detail."
Under such a definition there can be but few really great epics in any
language. Comparatively few poets have cared to undertake so great a
task and many of those who have been willing to make the attempt have
failed conspicuously in the execution. But most of the great languages
of the world have each one surpassing epic which has held the interest
of its readers and established an immortality for itself. Homer gave the
Greeks the grandeur of his _Iliad_; Virgil charms the Latin race and
every cultivated people since with the elegance of his _Aeneid_; Dante
with Virgil for his model and Beatrice as an inspiration wrote in
Italian the _Divina Commedia_, in which he described with all-powerful
pen the condition of the dead in the Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise;
and our Milton after years of preparation, from the dark realm of his
own blindness, produced the sublime measures of _Paradise Lost_. These
are the Greater Epics, greater by far than anything else written by man.
With them this course does not concern itself to any great extent.
The term lesser epic includes the numerous forms of narrative poems from
the old-time ballad to the modern story-telling poem. The epic is
essentially different from the lyric. While in the latter the
personality of the author is always apparent, and properly so, in the
epic the intrusion of the poet's self is usually a defect. The lyric is
subjective, the epic objective. To tell a story effectively and well is
the prime motive, to tell it beautifully and in a way to excite the
imagination and move the feelings of the reader is the contributory
poetic impulse. Of the lesser epics groups might be set apart. The
ballad is the oldest form. It was originally the production of wandering
minstrels or glee-men and was not reduced to writing and kept in
permanent form. Being passed from mouth to mouth there naturally came
to be great variations in its form, and even the incidents were modified
to suit the taste of the singer. After poetry came to be a study of the
cultured and refined, the minstrel's power declined, though he was a
welcome guest at the feasts of the wealthy, where his song added to the
gayety of the occasion or gave dignity to the host as his deeds were
sung by the hireling bard. In the sixteenth century these singers
disappeared from view in the blaze of the Elizabethan Age.
The highest type of literary expression is poetry, and the most perfect
creation of poetic imagination is the lyric. Technically a lyric is a
song, a short poem that can be set to music. But this must be
interpreted in a wide sense, for though all the songs that are sung are
lyrics, the greater number of lyrics were never intended to be fitted to
the closer requirements of vocal harmony. They deal with all subjects
and have few requirements of form, though form is an essential element
and a matter of great importance, for to the perfection of form much of
the intense effect of the lyric is due. Like the essay the lyric is a
subjective composition; it is confessedly the expression of the poet's
personal emotion and his own experiences. His mind, his soul, speak to
us; he does not interpret the thoughts and feelings of another. The
lyric is usually contemplative and full of the choicest results of the
poet's meditations. It influences action indirectly through direct
appeals to the emotions.
Songs form a class of lyrics as varied in content as the possible
subjects in life. One might consider them as sacred and secular and
under the former recognize the psalms, which our poets have many times
rendered into metrical form, not infrequently detracting from the
sublimity of the originals. "The Lord is my Shepherd" needs no change,
no remodeling from the biblical version to make it a true lyric, but
that it may be sung to the tunes of our churches it has more than once
been paraphrased.
Hymns are religious songs expressing devout reverence for the deity,
displaying confidence and faith in the goodness of God, breathing a
prayer for help in hours of difficulty and distress, or for consolation
in the hour of affliction. Our literature is full of these noble poems,
and their lofty sentiments, clothed in beautiful words sung to the
thrilling music of other inspired composers, have been potent factors in
culture and refinement.
Secular songs are written upon nearly every conceivable topic of human
interest and are more numerous than any other form of literature, but so
many of them are inferior in composition and so dependent upon the
jingle of the tunes to which they are sung that their life is little
longer than the time consumed in their production. But a large number
are conceived in the true spirit of art and are as worthy of immortality
as anything we read.
There are comic songs that sparkle with wit and whose music laughs with
the hearer; sentimental and love songs whose sensuous cadences intensify
the passion of their words; convivial songs where toasts are drunk to
the accompaniment of the clinking glasses; and patriotic songs that roll
with the ringing cheers of thousands and the tramp of armed men.
There are still three large classes of lyrics each distinct in itself,
though, as we see if we try to draw the lines closely, shading off into
one another. Usually these are in the nature of a direct address to some
person, place, or thing, and are distinguished one from another by the
nature of the subject or the rules of form. All are in a greater or less
degree complimentary to the thing addressed and show interest, respect,
admiration or love. The ode and elegy have most in common, although the
latter is a tribute to the dead. The sonnet partakes deeply of the
nature of the others, but is set off by very arbitrary limitations of
form.
There are no rules governing the form of the ode; the poet is at liberty
to select whatever form seems best adapted to his purpose. The length of
the stanza, the meter, the rhyme, may be as varied as his fancy
dictates, but the ode is an address direct and personal, an address with
praise for its object. The subject may be a flower, a piece of pottery,
a person, a bird or a nation, but some definite inciting object is
necessary. The ode is subjective in that the poet expresses his own
feeling of admiration or reverence. Often there is an acknowledgment of
a benefit conferred, a lesson learned, or affection returned. From these
conditions, namely, the liberty of form, the direct and powerful
inspiration, the sincere desire to return a favor, a poet might
naturally be expected to produce his choicest work, and so he has done.
A mournful song, in stately measure, praising the dead for his virtues,
full of the grief that remains with the living, believing in the
happiness of the departed and hoping for a blessed reunion in the
hereafter: this is the typical _elegy_. On the one side it shades off
into the ode, some poems being susceptible of classification in both
groups; on the other it may take the form of sonnets, many of which
answer every requirement of the dirge. Many poems are therefore
elegiacal that are not strictly elegies. A rigid classification is never
necessary, but an association of these beautiful pieces, all thoroughly
impregnated with the personal grief of the author, gives to each a
greater power, a more thrilling significance. They arise from the
deepest emotion and so are the offspring of divinest inspiration; love
is in the heart of the writer and so the flight of song is best
sustained; they are intended to show to the world respect and admiration
for the one whose virtues they celebrate and so they are refined and
polished to the last degree. Where grief, love and a hope to give
earthly immortality to the object of his affection move the poet, we
expect the finest efforts of his genius. These elegies include some of
the grandest, the most perfect productions of poetic skill.
When man sees his loved one laid away forever, he naturally longs to
preserve the memory of the departed to succeeding generations, to erect
some permanent memorial. Funereal monuments are characteristic of every
race and have proved the most enduring records of the past. The
inscriptions upon these tombs are early records of the elegiac spirit.
The epitaph is elegy in miniature. "To define an epitaph is useless;
everyone knows it is an inscription on a tomb. An _epitaph_ is indeed
commonly panegyrical, because we are seldom distinguished by a stone but
by our friends," says Dr. Johnson.
This epitaph was written by Robert Wilde in the seventeenth century:
Here lies a piece of Christ; a star in dust;
A vein of gold; a china dish that must
Be used in heaven, when God shall feast the just.
The _sonnet_ may be addressed to any person or thing and is the direct
personal expression of the author's feeling. It is like the ode, and
also partakes of the general nature of the elegy, but it differs from
both in the rigidity of the rules of form that govern it. Sonnets
originated in Italy, and the genuine Italian sonnet is very exacting in
form. It must consist of exactly fourteen lines of iambic pentameter.
These lines are divided into two groups, one of which consists of eight
lines or two _quatrains_, the whole known as the _octave_. The remaining
six lines constitute the _sestet_. The first and last line of each
quatrain rhyme together, while the middle lines of each form the second
rhyme. In the sestet usually the first line rhymes with the fourth, the
second with the fifth and the third with the sixth. As a whole the
sonnet contains one idea, which in the octave is general, in the sestet
specific, for the sestet expresses the conclusion of the octave.
The difficulties of composition under such arbitrary limitations are
evident, and it is not to be wondered at that even famous poets have
utterly failed when they have essayed to write in this form. The sonnet
has met with severest criticism, some writers failing to see any beauty
in it. Coleridge says: "And when at last the poor thing is toiled and
hammered into fit shape, it is in general racked and tortured prose
rather than anything resembling poetry." Though Lord Byron wrote a few
himself he defined the sonnet as "The most puling, petrifying, stupidly
Platonic composition."
But this is hardly fair to the many exquisitely beautiful lyrics that in
this form grace the English language. Those "little pictures painted
well," those "monuments of a moment" are among our most graceful poems,
and the reader who has not learned to delight in a beautiful sonnet has
missed the most refined pleasure English literature has to give.
The following exquisite sonnet, _Victor and Vanquished_, by Longfellow,
is formed on the Italian model:
As one who long hath fled with panting breath
Before his foe, bleeding and near to fall,
I turn and set my back against the wall,
And look thee in the face, triumphant Death.
I call for aid, and no one answereth;
I am alone with thee, who conquerest all;
Yet me thy threatening form doth not appall,
For thou art but a phantom and a wraith;
Wounded and weak, sword broken at the hilt,
With armor shattered, and without a shield,
I stand unmoved; do with me what thou wilt;
I can resist no more, but will not yield.
This is no tournament where cowards tilt;
The vanquished here is victor of the field.
How many verses in this sonnet? What is the meter? What is the rhyme
scheme? Through how many lines is the rhyme scheme the same as that
followed in the Italian sonnet?
Is there a unity of thought in this sonnet? Does the poet consistently
allude to some one thing? Was Longfellow old or young when he wrote
this? What does Longfellow represent himself to be? Why does he "set his
back against the wall"? In these days of Mauser rifles would it do any
good to set one's back against the wall for protection against an
approaching enemy? Was it ever an advantage? Who is the foe that follows
him? How can Death be "but a phantom and a wraith" and at the same time
follow the poet triumphantly? What do his weapons and his armor indicate
as to what he represents himself? What is the "broken sword"? Who fight
in tournaments? What is there appropriate in the word "tilt"? How can
the one who is vanquished be victor still? Is the figure of medieval
knighthood well sustained?
The earliest European _dramas_ of which we have any record were the
plays performed in ancient Greece five hundred years before Christ.
There were very few characters introduced, sometimes only one or two,
and a chorus was the most important part of the representation. This
chorus served to fill the gaps in the action, to state what had preceded
and at times even to comment upon the actors, to exhort or to praise or
condemn their behavior. The Greek dramatists carefully followed the
so-called rule of _three unities_: unity of time, whereby the action
must be compressed into one day; unity of place, by which only one place
must be represented; and unity of action, whereby the movement of the
piece must be continuous, all the incidents be connected so as to form
one main line of thought. The rule of three unities was followed very
closely by the French dramatists up to comparatively recent times; but
in England, beginning with the Elizabethan era, no restraint was placed
upon dramatic technique except unity of action, which still remains
essential.
During the Middle Ages the drama was represented by _miracle_ and
_mystery plays_ dealing with sacred history. They differed in subject
only. The miracle plays represented the lives of saints and their
miraculous deeds; the mysteries, the mysterious doctrines of
Christianity and various biblical events. During an age when preaching
was unusual, the clergy reached the souls of their people by means of
these rude plays which were at first given in churches; but later, when
the town guilds and trade organizations began to present them, the stage
was a traveling cart, roughly fitted up with rude scenery. Still later,
before theaters were built, the wandering players acted in inn yards or
courtyards. Female parts were always taken by boys, and it was not until
after Shakespeare's time that women appeared on the stage.
In the reign of Henry VI the mysteries were in part superseded by the
_morality plays_, although the former did not wholly go out of style
until the time of Elizabeth. The passion play given every ten years at
Oberammergau, Bavaria, is a survival of the old mystery play. The
moralities personified the virtues and vices common to man, and
attempted to teach moral lessons by allegorical representations. When
popular interest in these dramas began to lag, current topics were
introduced into the dialogue, and characters from real life appeared on
the stage for the first time. Early in the sixteenth century John
Heywood invented a farcical composition called _The Interlude_ to
relieve the tiresome monotony of existing plays. But it was in 1540 that
the first comedy appeared, and it is not too much to say that this play
marks the beginning of modern English drama. Nicholas Udall, head master
of Eton College, being accustomed to write Latin plays for his boys,
concluded to try his hand at an English drama. The result was _Ralph
Royster Doyster_, the first comedy. In 1562 Queen Elizabeth was
entertained by the presentation of the first English tragedy, a play
entitled _Gorboduc_, by Thomas Sackville.
During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries amateur dramatic
productions called _masques_ were presented. Sometimes even nobles and
members of the royal family took part. These plays were accompanied by
music, dancing, and spectacular effects. The literary character of the
masque developed into the compositions of Ben Jonson, and culminated in
Milton's _Comus_. During the reign of Elizabeth the productions of Kyd,
Peele, Greene, Marlowe, and Beaumont and Fletcher raised the drama to
such a lofty plane that only the genius of a Shakespeare could surmount
it.
There are two distinct classes of modern dramas--tragedies and comedies.
In the former, events crowd irresistibly on to some terrible conclusion,
usually resulting in the death of the principal characters. An
atmosphere of gloom surrounds it, and the flashes of light serve but to
intensify the general darkness. Even when the soul of the reader
recognizes the justice of the end it rebels against the horrors of the
situation. The deeper and darker passions predominate; love is swallowed
up in hate and happiness drowned in grief. The comedy is in a lighter
and happier vein; its situations may be trying but they end happily; the
sun shines and the air is clear; if storms appear they are the showers
of a summer day, not awful tempests. The comedy descends through various
forms to the travesty and farce whose purpose is solely to excite
laughter by ludicrous scenes and absurd incidents. The melodrama abounds
in thrilling situations and extravagant efforts to excite emotions, but
its final outcome is a happy one, and the villain is punished and virtue
is comfortably rewarded.
Dramas may be written in prose or in poetic form. The tendency is toward
prose in comedy and poetry in tragedy, though in the same play both
prose and poetry are sometimes used. The most common form for the poetic
composition is the unrhymed iambic pentameter or blank verse (heroic
measure). Rhymes are in use but usually their purpose is definite and
specific and they may occur occasionally in plays which are otherwise in
blank verse. Lyrics are often introduced, and in them both rhyme and
meter are varied at the pleasure of the author.
_Journeys Through Bookland_ contains numerous illustrations of the facts
of this chapter and plentiful examples of every form of literature
except the sonnet, of which a type has just been given. The outline
which follows will summarize this chapter and show a few of the examples
that may be formed.
[Illustration: ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
PAUL DU CHAILLU
RUDYARD KIPLING
THOMAS HUGHES
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN
JAKOB GRIMM
WILHELM GRIMM]
LITERATURE
I. PROSE.
1. Forms of Prose Composition.
A. Narration.
_The Pine Tree Shillings_: IV, 192.
_A Christmas Carol_: VI, 244.
B. Description.
_Brute Neighbors_: VII, 260.
_The Alhambra_: VIII, 153.
_Children's Books of the Past_: V, 101.
C. Exposition.
_Imitation of Christ_: VI, 134.
_The Cubes of Truth_: VII, 406.
_Reading History_: V, 394.
D. Argument.
_Poor Richard's Almanac_: VI, 407.
2. Kinds of Prose.
A. Fiction.
_Aladdin_: III, 288.
_Tom Brown at Rugby_: V, 469.
_The Adventure of the Windmills_: VII, 438.
B. Essays.
_Childhood_: VI, 124.
_Dream Children_: VIII, 335.
_The Vision of Mirza_: IX, 285.
C. Orations.
_The Gettysburg Address_: IX, 321.
_Abraham Lincoln_: IX, 324.
II. POETRY.
1. Structure of Poetry.
A. Rhyme.
_The Country Squire_: VI, 474.
_To My Infant Son_: VI, 478.
B. Meter.
_The Daffodils_: VII, 1.
_The Old Oaken Bucket_: VII, 11.
_Bannockburn_: VII, 15.
_Boat Song_: VII, 17.
2. Kinds of Poetry.
A. Epics.
a. Heroic Epics.
_Death of Hector_: IV, 364.
_Wooden Horse_: IV, 383.
b. Lesser Epics.
_Saint Nicholas_: II, 202.
_Pied Piper of Hamelin_: III, 384.
_Incident of the French Camp_: IV, 174.
_Sohrab and Rustum_: VI, 173.
B. Lyrics.
a. Songs.
(1) Sacred.
_Nearer Home_: IV, 126.
_Lead, Kindly Light_: V, 110.
(2) Secular.
_Annie Laurie_: VI, 119.
_Auld Lang Syne_: VI, 228.
_Those Evening Bells_: VII, 340.
(3) Patriotic.
_Battle Hymn of the Republic_: V, 399.
_America_: VIII, 60.
b. Odes.
_To the Fringed Gentian_: VII, 4.
_Ode to a Skylark_: VII, 275.
_To H. W. L._: IV, 84.
c. Elegies.
_Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard_: VI, 360.
d. Sonnet.
e. Drama.
_The Tempest_: VIII, 364.
CHAPTER XIV
JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND IN ITS RELATION TO THE SCHOOL
_Reading and Language_
These books were prepared expressly for home readings, but as has been
said elsewhere, they were prepared with a definite purpose to make them
a living adjunct to school work and a strong helper in bringing the home
and the school together. To accomplish this result it was necessary that
all the studies offered in _Journeys_ should be after the most approved
methods and that there should be no selections that could not with
propriety be used in any school in the land. This principle of selection
made it necessary to exclude some selections that might have been
pleasing but at the same time were not universal in their acceptance.
Again, it was necessary to include literature that was in a sense
technical, that would apply to every class that young readers have in
school. This does not mean that there are a great many things that are
purely geographical or purely historical or that deal directly with the
study of language and literature. It means that the reader of _Journeys_
will find selections that he can use in nearly every class in school and
that those selections are in the highest degree literary. In no way does
a child learn more thoroughly that geography and history are worth
study in themselves than by meeting them clothed in the beauty of fine
writing. In no way will he be led more quickly into a love for nature in
all her manifestations and into a keen desire to study nature than by
the hand of literature. Language takes on a new interest when it becomes
evident that it is a real and necessary help to writing as the great
writers do.
Accordingly when the selections were chosen for _Journeys_, a tabulation
of school subjects was made and under each head were placed the things
that would be most helpful in school work. It was not decided finally to
keep that arrangement in the books, for a different and a better system
of grading and classification was selected. Nevertheless the selections
are there, and the object of this and the few following chapters is to
show what those selections are, how they may be used in school and how
their use at home helps in the school work of every reader.
In the grades below the high school the following subjects are
considered most important, viz.: reading, language, arithmetic,
geography, history and nature study. At the first thought one would say
that a set of books such as _Journeys_ can be of no use in the
arithmetic class, and of course their usefulness in that direction would
not justify their existence. However, there are selections in _Journeys_
that have a decided arithmetical flavor, such as, for instance, _Three
Sundays in a Week_ (Volume VI, page 453) and _The Gold Bug_ (Volume IX,
page 232). Even among the nursery rhymes is one that is purely
arithmetical (Volume I, page 41). We may, however, disregard the
arithmetic in _Journeys_, but we must not lose sight of the fact that
the method of reading discussed under the title _Close Reading_ is
exactly the method of study that every person must pursue if he is to
make any success in mathematics. In no other branch is there a call for
such close reading, and only he who can get all the meaning out of the
statement of a problem can be certain of his solution. One of the
reasons that so many children have trouble with the problems in their
arithmetic classes is that they do not read intelligently. Many a good
teacher of mathematics will tell you that a large part of her success is
due to the fact that she has spent much of the time in the class in
teaching her pupils to read understandingly. Many another could make a
vast improvement in her methods of teaching if she would spend a part of
the time of each recitation in teaching her pupils to read problems till
they thoroughly understand them before beginning to work out the
formulas. It follows then that every child who masters the art of close
reading will be helped in a great measure in all his work in
mathematics. The value of _Journeys_ in this connection is that it makes
that method of study clear and leads a child to its mastery almost
without the recognition of what he is doing. It will teach him to think
before he acts and to acquire the habit of looking for the full meaning
of everything he reads.
In this and the two following chapters will be given studies of the most
important subjects studied in the grades, showing the correlation of the
_Journeys_ material. These subjects will be treated in the following
order: Reading, Language, Nature Study, Geography and History.
A. Reading
As for the other studies with which _Journeys_ is correlated, we shall
take them up one by one and at greater length. First in importance is
reading. This is always first in importance in school, for every other
study depends upon it. In fact the prime motive of _Journeys_ is to
teach reading, and it will teach reading in the school and in the home.
The child who has read what these books have to offer in the way that
these books teach will have a power that cannot be taken from him, and
his position in class and elsewhere will be raised immediately. Besides
the fund of information he will have acquired he will have made for
himself a habit that will always benefit him. Every study in the books
from the first page to the last is a help in reading, and all the
lessons of this volume are directed to reading. But there are three or
more long chapters in this volume which take up the different methods of
reading and apply them to selections on all conceivable subjects dealt
with in _Journeys_. To these chapters on reading the teacher and the
parent who wants to be informed are directed. The treatment is simple
and not above the effort of anyone, and the method will appeal to all
high school students of literature, for it is the method of the best
teachers of that subject.
B. LANGUAGE
There are two distinct phases of the teaching of language: pupils must
be taught to speak and to write with ease, fluency and correctness.
There are very few children who do not like to talk. It is as natural to
them as to breathe. But as soon as they begin to speak we begin to
correct their speech. Much of our criticism is given publicly, at least
before other children, some of whom are known to speak more fluently and
correctly than those whose errors are being criticized. In consequence,
the children begin to doubt themselves, to hesitate, and gradually to
lose their desire to talk. In fact, so timid and reluctant do they
become that by the time they have been in school a few years many
teachers find their greatest difficulty in getting pupils to recite well
or to talk naturally. Perhaps before and after school and at recess they
will converse freely and delightfully, but as soon as their classes are
called they become reticent and ill at ease. Not all of this lack of
spirit is due to the teacher, but some of it is. In any event it is an
unfortunate condition, and the teacher is anxious to remove it.
At home a similar condition prevails. If the parents are themselves
accurate in speech and alive to the importance of making their children
good talkers and users of correct English they will be ready with
criticism, and unless they are careful will do their share to repress
the natural frankness of child nature. Parents who have been teachers
are quite as liable to err as others are to remain in ignorance in
attempting to understand the psychology of the child mind. Freedom of
conversation on topics of interest where correct models of speech are
always before the child will accomplish more in making cultivated speech
than will twice as much direct instruction. If only parents will read
the things that the children are reading and affect an interest in those
things they can be certain of giving the best training, while they
themselves will grow in happiness and nearness to their offspring. In
the fields of literature they can stray together with the consciousness
that with all the beauty there is nothing to corrupt.
In a lesser degree, perhaps, the same facts are true in written
language, in composition. But in lessons of this type the instructor
will not find conditions so favorable: Talking is natural, writing is
artificial; to speak is instinctive, to write is an art of difficult
attainment. In the first place, a child must be taught to form strange
characters with his hand. After he acquires facility in that, he must
think, put this thoughts into words in his mind, and then laboriously
transfer his words, letter by letter, to the paper before him. Many a
child who talks well cannot write a respectable letter. His thoughts
outrun his hand, and by the time the first labored sentence is written
his ideas have fled and he must begin again. Is it any wonder that his
sentences are disconnected, his thought meager?
Just think what it means to a child to write you a letter, or even a
brief paragraph! Suppose he wants to tell you about a dog he has at
home. He begins by thinking: "My dog, Ben, is a pretty little woolly
fellow with bright eyes and long silky ears," and then his thoughts run
off vaguely into the general idea that he is going to tell you about
some very cute tricks Ben can perform. The child is all enthusiasm and
he begins writing and thinking something like this: "My (that word must
begin with a capital letter) dog ('Ben' must begin with a capital, too)
Ben is a (is that 'pritty' or 'pretty'? It's pronounced 'pritty' anyhow)
pritty (that don't look right. Scratch it out!) pretty (well, that
don't, I mean _doesn't_ look right either, but I'll leave it) (For
goodness sake, how do you spell it? 'Wooly'? 'wolly'? 'woolly'? I guess
I had it right at first) wooly fellow (where shall I put the commas?
I'll leave 'em out. Teacher can put them in if she wants them.) with
bright eyes and long slicky (no, no, that isn't right! How funny!
Scratch it out.) silky ears. (I nearly forgot the period. Now what was I
going to say next?)." When he is through, his first sentence is like
this: "My dog Ben is a pretty little wooly fellow with bright eyes and
long silky ears." He looks at his work with doubt and disgust as he
scratches his head for the next idea. He has wholly forgotten what he
intended to tell about! Later, his work, wholly unsatisfactory to
himself comes to you for criticism and you take your blue pencil or your
pen with red ink and put in the marks if any are needed, indicate the
misspelled words and sigh as you say, "Will Charlie ever learn to write
a decent composition?" Certainly he will, when his writing becomes
mechanical, when his hand makes the letters, puts in the marks, and his
lower brain spells the words for him, without disturbing the higher
cells which are occupied with his ideas.
These are the diverse problems that confront anyone who tries to teach
language to a child. We cannot solve them all, but most certainly we can
lend some assistance.
1. Oral Lessons
Success in oral language lessons rests primarily upon interest. If you
can secure interest, the children will talk freely; if you retain
interest, you can criticize freely and with good effect.
Criticisms should not be too severe and should always be impersonal. It
is not John and Mary who are being corrected, but the mistakes that John
and Mary make. You have heard both parents and teachers say, "John, why
will you persist in saying, 'I done it'? Don't you know that is wrong?
You must correct yourself." Such criticism is wholly bad. If John says
"I done it," it is because he has heard the expression and become
habituated to its use. He cannot be taught differently by berating him.
When he says, "I done it," repeat after him in a kindly inquiring voice,
"I _done_ it?" or say in a kindly way, "I did it." In either case John
will give you the correct form willingly, and when he has done so times
enough he will forget the wrong form and cease to use it.
Everyone must remember that children have heard slang and incorrect
speech almost from infancy; that the playground, the street and the home
have been steadily teaching, and that the minds of even primary children
may be filled with not only loose forms of speech, but even with profane
and indecent expressions. One of the natural correctives for such things
is the reading and telling of attractive stories, full of dramatic
power, calculated to stimulate right feeling, couched in clear and
forcible English. Elsewhere in this volume under the title _Telling
Stories_ are suggestions and good models.
From the standpoint of the language lesson, children must reproduce the
story, must "tell it back" to make it valuable to them. The instructor's
part in this reproduction may be summed up as follows:
1. Be an interested audience for the child.
2. Secure clearness. Do it by a gentle question or a remark now and
then: "I am not sure that I understand you." "Do you think I would know
what you mean if I had never read the story?" "If you were telling the
story to your playmate would she understand that?"
3. Encourage the child to use his own words, when he follows too closely
the phraseology that was given him, yet remember that one of the objects
of the exercise is to give the children the use of a wider vocabulary
and to make them appreciate and use beautiful and forcible expressions.
4. Be reasonably content with freedom of expression at first, and do not
expect too rapid improvement. You are moving against fixed habits.
5. Vary the character of the exercise. Sometimes permit one child to
tell the whole story; at other times, call upon other children, or
continue the story yourself.
6. If the story is a difficult one, do not ask for its reproduction
until it is thoroughly understood. Make its meaning clear by skilful
questioning, which with the answers makes an extremely valuable
conversation lesson.
7. Encourage the use of beautiful expressions, of fine figures of
speech. Do it by using such expressions yourself and by pointing them
out in the story or poem you are using.
8. Beware of spoiling a beautiful poem or an elegant prose selection by
poor reproduction. After the story has been related and the meaning made
clear have the original read several times exactly as it is written and
encourage the children to commit it to memory.
There are in _Journeys Through Bookland_ many selections suitable for
these oral lessons. For the little folks there are some of the _Nursery
Rhymes_, of Volume I, like the following:
_Little Boy Blue_, Page 33.
_Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary_, Page 30.
_Ladybird, Ladybird_, Page 12.
_Little Bo-Peep_, Page 9.
_Jack and Jill_, Page 27.
_Poor Robin_, Page 16.
_There Was a Jolly Miller_, Page 47.
_Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_, Page 44.
In the same class may be included those beautiful poems by Stevenson and
Field, poems that every child loves and will be delighted to talk about.
For instance, the following from the same volume:
_The Swing_, Page 67.
_Singing_, Page 83.
_The Rock-a-by Lady_, Page 94.
_My Bed is a Boat_, Page 126.
_Foreign Lands_, Page 130.
_Little Blue Pigeon_, Page 133.
_The Land of Counterpane_, Page 144.
_Norse Lullaby_, Page 246.
_Where Go the Boats?_ Page 256.
_Wynken, Blynken and Nod_, Page 262.
_Keepsake Mill_, Page 349.
_The Duel_, Page 384.
The last list, however, includes many of those poems which must not be
spoiled by childish re-telling. Use them for conversation subjects and
then for reading or recitation.
The fables will be found to provide excellent material, and there need
be no fear of ruining their effect as literature:
_The Lion and the Mouse_, Volume I, page 75.
_The Wolf and the Crane_, I, 96.
_The Lark and Her Young Ones_, I, 131.
_The Cat and the Chestnuts_, I, 142.
_The Sparrow and the Eagle_, Volume II, 8.
Certain of the fairy stories are excellent; so are anecdotes concerning
men of whom the children should know; historical tales, and stories
about plants, birds and other animals. Among the great number of
selections that might be included under this head, some of the best are
the following:
1. Fairy Tales and Folk Stories:
_Silverlocks and the Three Bears_, Volume I, 101.
_The Hardy Tin Soldier_, I, 148.
_Cinderella_, I, 224.
_The Ugly Duckling_, I, 414.
_Why the Sea is Salt_, II, 484.
_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_, III, 384.
2. Biographical Stories:
_Robert Louis Stevenson_, Volume I, 128.
_Eugene Field_, I, 242.
_George Rogers Clark_, VI, 422.
_Père Marquette_, VIII, 121.
3. Myths:
_The Wonderful Gifts_, Volume I, 368.
_The Chimera_, II, 173.
_The Story of Phaethon_, II, 206.
4. Historical Tales:
_Robert Bruce and the Spider_, Volume V, 314.
_The Fall of the Alamo_, VIII, 141.
_Hervé Riel_, VIII, 168.
5. About Flowers and Plants:
_The Daffodils_, Volume VII, 1.
_Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_, VII, 306.
_A Bed of Nettles_, VIII, 209.
6. About Birds:
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_ Volume II, 399.
_Owls_, IX, 229.
7. About Other Animals:
_Elephant Hunting_, Volume VI, 385.
_The Buffalo_, VII, 96.
_The Pond in Winter_, VII, 280.
The longer stories you will abbreviate in telling, and the children will
still further shorten them. Try, however, to retain the spirit of each.
Do not try to tell all that is contained in the longer articles
mentioned above. Select interesting portions, a single anecdote, a few
facts that will hold attention.
At times vary the exercise by giving a very simple theme and ask the
children to make up a story to fit it. If they have difficulty, help
them to think and talk. When they see what you want some will surprise
you with their vivid imaginations and picturesque modes of expression.
Suppose you have in mind the fable _The Wind and the Sun_ (Volume I,
Page 95). You might present the idea to them in this form: "The Wind and
the Sun each tried to make a man take off his coat. The Wind tried and
failed, then the Sun tried and succeeded. Can you tell me a story about
that?" If you meet with no satisfactory response, begin questioning
somewhat in this style, and perhaps the child will answer nearly as
indicated:
Question. You don't know what I mean? Then let us tell it together. How
do you think the Wind would try to make a man take off his coat?
Answer. He would try to blow it off.
Q. How would he blow?
A. He would blow hard.
Q. Can you think of another word besides _hard_ to show how he would
blow?
A. Fierce.
Q. Fiercely. Yes, "_fiercely_" is a good word. How fiercely would he
blow?
A. Very fierce.
Q. Yes, very _fiercely_. Did you notice I said "fiercely," John? Now
can't you think of a comparison with something else that is fierce, so
that our story will sound well and people will like it?
A. A lion is fierce. We could say, "He blew as fiercely as a lion."
Q. But a lion does not blow. What does he do?
A. He tears his prey when he captures it.
Q. That's good. Now tell me how the Wind tried to make the man take off
his coat.
A. The Wind blew fiercely as a lion tears his prey.
Q. Good. Did the man take off his coat?
A. I don't think he did. I think he would try to keep it on.
Q. How hard do you think he would try?
A. As hard as he could.
Q. Did he lose it?
A. No. No matter what the Wind did I think the man would keep on his
coat.
Q. Will you please tell the story as far as we have gone?
A. The Wind and the Sun tried to make a man take off his coat. First the
Wind blew as fiercely as a lion tears his prey, but the man clung more
closely to his coat and would not let it go.
Q. That is good, but it does not satisfy me yet. I want a longer,
prettier story. Let us make believe the Wind and the Sun are two men.
Make them talk so they will seem real to us. Can't you start us?
A. One day Mr. Wind and Mr. Sun got to talking. Each one thought he was
stronger than the other. They saw a man walking along the road. He had a
big overcoat on and Mr. Wind said that he--
Q. Tell us exactly what Mr. Wind said.
A. Mr. Wind said, "I am stronger than you are. I can make that man take
off his coat. You can't!"
Q. That is a fine start. Tell us what the Sun said.
A. The Sun said that he--
Q. "That he?"
A. The Sun said, "I can make him take off his coat, and I can do it
quicker than you can."
Q. Good. Go on.
A. So they tried. Mr. Wind began. He blew as hard as he could and
whistled around the man. He blew as fiercely as a lion tears his prey,
but the man wouldn't take off his coat.
Q. What would the man do to his coat?
A. I think he'd hold on to it, button it up, draw it close around him.
Q. Good. Very good. Now tell the story as well as you can.
A. Begin at the beginning?
Q. Yes.
A. One day Mr. Wind and Mr. Sun got into a quarrel about who was the
strongest. While they were at it, a man in a heavy overcoat came walking
along the road. When Mr. Wind saw the man he said, "Now see that man
down there. I can make him take off his coat, but you can't." Mr. Sun
replied, "I don't believe you can do it, but I can, though," then Mr.
Wind said, "Well, I'll show you, you conceited thing!" So the Wind blew
and blew, fierce and loud like a lion attacking his prey, but the man
wouldn't take off his coat. He drew it around him and buttoned it up and
hung on to it.
Q. I like your story. But how many people were talking?
A. Two.
Q. Did you mean to say "_strongest_"?
A. Stronger.
It is not necessary to continue this farther, for enough has been
written to show how a story may be developed and improved with each
retelling.
The same style of work, perhaps to even better advantage, may be done
from the pictures so numerous in _Journeys Through Bookland_. In this
volume, under the title _Pictures and Their Use_, will be found
plentiful suggestions that will be helpful in conversation lessons.
2. Written Lessons
A. Introduction.
The demands of written composition are so much more severe than those of
oral composition that we must be careful not to ask more than the child
can execute with comparative ease. Before he begins to write, he should
have clear ideas of what he intends to write and should have those ideas
so arranged that they will not be confused in the process of writing.
Moreover, a child must become quite familiar with writing as an art
before he can be expected to originate ideas or forms of expression for
the purpose of writing them. It follows, then, that some of the early
written work in language may profitably consist of copying selections of
various kinds.
The titles given under the preceding section (_Oral Lessons_) will lead
to many excellent exercises for this purpose. Insist on perfect accuracy
of copy. Spelling, capitalization and punctuation must be correct. If
the original is prose, insist upon proper paragraphing; if poetry, upon
exactness in the arrangement of the lines, especially in the matter of
indentation. Children will quickly see the relation that indentation
bears to rhymes. By following with exactness, the child learns
unconsciously to observe the general rules. By occasionally calling
attention to the reasons for forms, children are taught to act
intelligently and to decide for themselves when they come to original
composition.
Rhythm is as natural as breathing, and rhyming is easy for children with
quick ears and quick thought. You will be surprised the first time you
try the exercise to see how quickly they will imitate a rhythm with
which they are familiar, and the skill they show in making rhymes. Try
it first as an oral exercise, and later ask for written lines. Much of
such work may not be profitable, but it serves well to give variety.
Making simple parodies is amusing and stimulating to thought. Sometimes
you will help by suggesting rhymes or by giving hints as to the subject
to be parodied.
Take the nursery rhyme _There Was an Old Woman_ (Volume I, page 36) for
a model. Suggest _bird_ and _nest_ as ideas for new rhymes and keep
helping until you get something like this:
There was a sweet birdie
Who built a fine nest,
A beautiful birdie
With a very red breast.
Use the same meter many times over till all become familiar with it.
Similar exercises prove highly interesting to children of all ages.
Although this is not a treatise on written language lessons, a few
general suggestions may not be out of place:
1. Be sure that the children have something interesting about which to
write.
2. Be sure that they have a good stock of ideas on the subject, or that
they know how and where to get information and can get it without great
difficulty.
3. Be sure that they write an outline of their composition or have one
thoroughly in mind before they begin on the essay itself.
4. Give plenty of time for the writing.
5. Show a decided interest in their preparation and in their
compositions.
6. Do not be severe in your criticisms. Give encouragement. Concentrate
your efforts on one or two errors at a time. Let other mistakes pass
till a more convenient time.
7. _a._ Watch for errors:
(1) In the use of capital letters.
(2) In the use of punctuation marks; first of terminal marks, then
of the marks within a sentence.
_b._ See that every sentence is complete, with subject and predicate.
_c._ See that verbs agree with subjects, and pronouns with antecedents.
_d._ Insist that the work be paragraphed.
_e._ Watch for errors in case among the pronouns. The objective case is
troublesome.
_f._ Look for adjective forms where adverbial forms are correct.
8. Require care in all work. Neatness and legibility are essential.
9. Mark errors, do not correct them. Let the children do that. A simple
system of marks will enable you to indicate the nature of the error.
10. When the mistakes have been corrected, have a neat copy made and
preserved.
11. Try sincerely to work with your children and to secure a genuine
spirit of co-operation.
B. Literature in Written Lessons.
Indirectly, all that is said on the teaching of reading in this and
other volumes bears upon language, and you are earnestly urged to
consider it all carefully in that light. More directly, what has been
written herein on the subject of conversation lessons and oral language
is a necessary preliminary to any discussion of written work and should
be used freely in the assignment and preparation of subjects for written
exercises. The outlines for study in reading and the outlines of the
oral lessons are easily modified to become very satisfactory outlines
for compositions. The selections recommended for oral lessons are all
adapted to written work.
NARRATION. As in other instances, however, it here seems wise to give a
few suggestions specifically for the written exercises, and as a basis
for such suggestions we will take selections from _Journeys Through
Bookland_.
Robin Hood has been an interesting character for many generations of
schoolboys, and among the ballads concerning him (Volume III, page 436)
are several good selections for reading aloud. Most children know
something about Robin Hood and many of them have read full accounts, yet
probably the old ballads are not familiar. The note on page 436 gives
information about the ballads and tells what it is necessary to know
about Robin Hood himself. Suppose we take as a subject the ballad on
page 444, _Robin Hood and the Stranger_. The notes explain peculiar
expressions and give the meanings of obsolete words. There is a manly,
rough-and-tumble spirit in the ballad that boys like, and it is clean
and wholesome, as well.
Read the ballad to the children, explaining the more obscure words and
phrases as you go along. Encourage the children to ask questions
whenever they do not fully understand. Talk freely until you have made
everything clear and have secured interest. Then read the whole ballad
without interruption. Read with expression and enthusiasm. Show the
spirit and virility of the men.
Then by questions bring out the facts of the narrative in logical order
as they appear, and have each child copy them for himself. They
constitute the outline each is to write. Adapt the outline to the age
and acquirements of the child; make it as full or as brief as you
please, but make it logical and complete. Let it be similar to the
following:
1. Robin Hood goes hunting.
2. He meets a well-dressed stranger.
3. The stranger kills a deer by a remarkable shot with his bow.
4. Robin Hood invites the stranger to join his company.
5. The stranger threatens Robin Hood.
6. They prepare to fight with bows.
7. Robin Hood thinks it a pity that either should be slain, and proposes
to fight with broadswords.
8. Robin Hood strikes a heavy blow which the stranger returns with
interest.
9. Robin Hood feels great respect for the stranger's power, and asks who
he is.
10. The stranger proves to be Robin Hood's only nephew.
11. They meet Little John, who wants to fight young Gamwell.
12. Robin Hood compels peace, makes Gamwell second to Little John and
names him Scarlet.
Talk to the children freely after you have made the outline; advise them
to make the story interesting, dramatic, and not too long. Show them
that it is better to use direct discourse; that is, to make the
characters seem alive. The result will be a good _narration_, the
simplest and most common form of written discourse.
DESCRIPTION. To so describe a scene to another person that he may see it
clearly and vividly is high art. It is necessary in narration and often
lends strength to description and exposition. Accordingly, it is one of
the most important forms of composition. In no direction, perhaps, can
_Journeys Through Bookland_ be of greater assistance.
I. In the first place, the pictures are a mine of subjects for
description. The pictures themselves may be described, and many of them
will suggest other subjects for similar tasks. For instance, in Volume
V, on page 219, is a picture of Sir Galahad when the Holy Grail appears
to him. Some of the topics for description are the following:
1. The picture, _Sir Galahad_. (For suggestions as to the description of
pictures, etc., see the topic _Pictures and Their Use_, in this volume.)
2. The trees in the forest.
3. The armor of Sir Galahad and the trappings of his horse.
Again, in Volume V, on page 17, is the picture of Gulliver's _Journey to
the Metropolis_, which gives us these topics:
1. The picture.
2. The cart on which the Lilliputians transport Gulliver. (Read the
account in the story for further facts.)
Facing page 116 in the same volume is the halftone of King Arthur in
armor. To write a minute description of the armor would be an excellent
exercise, requiring close observation and not a little reading, if the
children wish to name the pieces of armor the king wears.
II. Many of the stories contain beautiful descriptive passages, which
may be studied with profit, and some of the selections are almost wholly
descriptive. An excellent example of the latter type and an exceedingly
interesting article for children is _Some Children's Books of the Past_
(Volume V, Page 101).
_The King of the Golden River_ (Volume II, page 405) and _A Christmas
Carol_ (Volume VI, page 244) are especially rich in material of this
kind. On page 408 of the former selection the King is described at his
first appearance. An analysis of the paragraph is to be found on page
445 of the same volume, under the title _First Appearance_. By comparing
the analysis and the descriptive paragraph it will be seen that the
former gives the facts only, while in the latter there are comparisons
and descriptive words that make the whole vivid and artistic.
The outline is a good description of an imaginary person. After the
children have studied paragraph and outline, give them another outline
like this:
1. General statement, or introduction.
2. Nose.
3. Cheeks.
4. Eyes.
5. Beard.
6. Hair.
7. Height.
8. Clothing.
_a._ Hat.
_b._ Coat.
_c._ Vest.
_d._ Trousers.
_e._ Shoes.
Require each child to follow the outline and to write a smooth, readable
description of a man whom he knows. Vary the exercise by asking the
children to describe some man whose picture you show; some man whom all
have seen, or, if it can be done in the proper spirit, one of the other
children who is willing to pose. Then ask them to describe some fanciful
character about whom you make a general statement, as, for example, "He
was the most amusing man I ever saw in my life," or, "He was certainly
the most dignified man in appearance and the best-dressed man I ever
saw." A comparison of the descriptions given by the different members of
the class will be amusing and instructive. Try to secure descriptions
which in style are in harmony with the subject.
III. In many of the selections the authors have not tried to describe
things very fully. In such cases you have fine opportunities to train
the imagination by asking the children to supplement the descriptions.
For instance, _On the Receipt of My Mother's Picture_ (Volume VII, page
331) raises among other subjects for descriptive writing the following:
1. Describe Cowper's mother.
2. Describe the picture he received.
3. Describe the home of his infancy.
4. Describe the "well-havened isle."
Children should be taught to look through the entire poem for facts that
bear on the topics. When writing, they must not misrepresent these facts
nor give others that contradict those in the poem. Where nothing is
said, the child may see what he likes. Such exercises tend to make
children appreciate good literature, and, when they are reading, to
visualize the things to which allusion is made.
EXPOSITION. In Volume IV, beginning on page 14, is the story of Martin
Pelaez, the Asturian, which will offer good material for a composition
of another kind. The introduction to _Cid Campeador_, page 9, will give
you information you are likely to need to answer questions.
As in the exercise just given, begin to read and make such explanatory
comments as are needed to show clearly the character of Martin. You
will, of course, need to make the story lucid to the children. Show
that--
_a._ Pelaez was a Spanish grandee of great strength and noble form.
_b._ He was a coward at heart.
_c._ Twice he ran from the enemy and avoided battle.
_d._ Both times he was asked by the Cid to sit with him at the table,
and not with the noblest knights.
_e._ The first time Martin thought it an honor to himself; the second
time, he saw it to be a grave reproof.
_f._ Thereafter he fought nobly, was seated with the great knights, and
became one of the Cid's most favored friends.
When these points have been fixed in mind, proceed to develop an outline
for the composition. It may be something like this:
_a._ The character of Martin as we first meet him in the story, with
instances to prove the nature of it.
_b._ His character after he was changed by the Cid, with evidences to
show it. Exemplified:
1. He was a coward. We know it from--
(_a_) His flight during the first battle.
(_b_) His retreat during the second battle.
(_c_) The fact that he was large, strong and well versed in arms
yet would not fight.
(_d_) The fact that he hoped to escape the notice of the Cid.
2. He was teachable. We know it because he needed but two lessons.
3. He was brave. We know it from his conduct in battle.
4. He had many noble characteristics. We know it because be became the
trusted friend of the Cid.
Put into the form of a composition, we might expect something like this:
"Martin Pelaez, when we first knew him, was an arrant coward, for though
strong, well-formed and versed in the use of arms, he more than once
fled before the enemy. He had other traits of a coward, as we may know
from his actions in hiding in his tent and hoping to escape the eye of
his master and unfairly gain the reputation of a brave knight.
"Later, however, under the wise treatment of the Cid he was made ashamed
of his cowardice, conquered it and became a courageous warrior. In fact,
he was one of the bravest and most powerful knights in the army of the
Cid.
"More than that, Martin Pelaez developed all the traits of a gentleman.
He became a good keeper of secrets, was wise in counsel and brave in
action."
The foregoing is a good example of exposition, the third of the four
forms of prose composition.
ARGUMENT. _The Boston Massacre_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne (Volume IV, page
217) offers several good questions for debate. We may select the
decision of the judges (page 223) as the one furnishing the best
opportunity. Hawthorne says, "The judges told the jury that the insults
and violence which had been offered to the soldiers justified them in
firing at the mob."
To bring the question into a form for debate we might write it, "Were
the judges right in their decision?" This leaves the question evenly
balanced, with no prejudice against either side. It might be put more
formally: "_Resolved._ That the judges were right in their decision."
The effect of stating the question in the latter form is to throw the
"burden of proof" on the negative. In other words, if the question is in
the latter form and the arguments are equally balanced, the decision
would have to be that the judges were right.
Having determined the form of the question, the children may be
separated into two groups, as nearly as possible equal in ability, and
one group may be appointed to take the side of the judges and one the
side of the soldiers.
Having arranged the preliminaries, converse with the children freely,
bringing out points equally in favor of both sides. Avoid any appearance
of favoritism. If one side is manifestly stronger than the other,
however, you may put them on a level by showing a few arguments to the
weaker side. Do this openly, so that all may understand your action.
Encourage the children to study both sides of the question and to be
fair-minded. In fact, the ordinary debate where children are appointed
to argue upon a certain side of the question does not bring into play
the same good methods of thought and judgment as the free debate, in
which each child studies both sides of the question, determines which
side he thinks the right one, and then argues for that side.
In this question urge the children to study the subject in their
histories or in any reference books that may be handy. Help them to get
at the truth of the matter. Hawthorne may show prejudice. Does he? We
may feel a bias in favor of one side or the other. Do we? Then to the
extent of that bias we are liable to be unfair and to fail in making a
sound argument.
After the children have read what they can find on the subject, ask them
to arrange their arguments in parallel columns, for and against the
judges. Something like the following may appear:
FOR AGAINST
1. The Americans 1. The English had
were the subjects of the oppressed the colonists
English, and subjects by unjust taxes and in
should be loyal. other ways (mention
them) until the time
for loyalty had ceased.
2. The colonists 2. If these colonists
were not an organized were a mob they were
body, acting legally. justified in their acts.
They were a wild mob, It was an insult and
and mobs must be worse to quarter troops
quelled or lives and upon them and they
property cannot be protected. naturally resented it.
They had had no time
to organize and make
laws. They had to act
at once.
3. The mob was 3. It is always the
composed of wild young men who lead.
young men, and most In most great movements
of the colonists did not it has been the
approve of their acts. young men who were
right.
4. The mob called 4. The soldiers forgot
the soldiers "lobster-backs," their discipline and
"red-coats," and called the colonists "rebel
other insulting names rascals" and threatened
before the soldiers to use bayonets.
spoke.
5. The mob crowded 5. The soldiers
the soldiers off the should have kept to their
sidewalk, threw snow barracks, but they paraded
and lumps of ice at the streets and
them. The young men pricked the townspeople
dared the soldiers to with their bayonets.
fire, threatened to drive
them to their barracks
and to beat them down.
6. Captain Preston 6. Captain Preston
was acting under orders, was unwise, irritating,
and he warned the colonists overbearing, and by his
that he would preserve attitude provoked the
order at any risk. colonists beyond human
endurance.
7. The firing was a 7. Captain Preston
mistake. It was not by ordered his men to fire
Captain Preston's orders. on the colonists.
8. The first shot was 8. A British sympathizer
fired by a masked man in a mask fired
who appeared on the into the crowd of unarmed
balcony of a house and colonists.
fired at the soldiers.
9. The British soldiers 9. By withdrawing
were soon withdrawn the troops the British
and everything confessed that they were
done to make the colonists in the wrong.
feel right about
the affair. This showed
that the British were
still very friendly to the
colonists, and desired
their good will.
10. Judges who were 10. The judges were
supposed to be honorable British appointees, not
men heard all the in sympathy with the
evidence and would not colonists and too much
be liable to make any prejudiced to be able to
mistake. decide fairly.
11. The judges 11. The judges knew
were so thoroughly they were wrong and
convinced that the soldiers were afraid to leave the
were not guilty question to the jury.
that they told the jury
what verdict to give.
The "points" given above show some of the really minor debatable topics
that arise under the larger question. They show, too, how differently
the same incidents may appear to different eyes. Perhaps some of the
"points" are stated unfairly, to give strength to the argument. Bare
assertions are not proofs and some of the "points" are nothing but
assertions. Opinions are not arguments. Some of the statements would
need to bolstered up by facts and "authorities" before they could be
accepted as real arguments.
Most debates are oral, but, for our purpose, they are to be considered
as written language lessons. Hence, when the arguments are marshalled as
above, the child should select the side he feels to be right and compose
his argument in proper form. Teach him to see the three parts to his
argument, namely, the introduction, the body of his argument, and the
conclusion. Tell him to make his style personal, clear, concise,
logical, strong, persuasive and convincing. Show him what each
characteristic in the above list means.
For example, the _argument_ for the judges made from the assertions
given above might be stated as follows:
_Introduction._ "That the judges were right when they pronounced Captain
Preston and the eight British soldiers not guilty of murder when they
fired on the colonial mob in what is incorrectly called the 'Boston
Massacre' will be proved in this argument."
_Body of the Argument._ "The citizens of Boston were English subjects
who had been fostered by the mother country. Since the settlement at
Plymouth in 1620 no other nation had claimed or exercised any control
over them, and I maintain that loyalty to his country is one of the
highest duties of every citizen." (It is not advisable to write here the
"body" of the argument. It would naturally be continued step by step
till the eleven "points" given above had been exhausted. If those
"points" had been brought up in the general conversation lesson every
child would be expected to add others that he had found by his own
study. Liberty of omission, arrangement and addition should always be
allowed. Originality is always at a premium.)
_Conclusion._ "I have now presented to you the reasons for my belief. I
have shown you conclusively that the colonists were British subjects and
owed unquestioning loyalty to their country; that----[Here recapitulate
briefly but forcibly the arguments, so as to present them convincingly
and at one time.] In view of all these facts I maintain that I have
shown that the judges did not err when they pronounced Captain Preston
and the eight soldiers not guilty of murder."
Of course, the form of the introduction and conclusion may vary from
that given here. Each child should be allowed the greatest freedom of
expression consistent with the facts that there must be an introduction
that states the question fairly and clearly, and a conclusion that shows
how much the contentions have been proved.
CONCLUSION. While narration, description, exposition and argument are
the four forms of prose composition, we do not find frequently that
selections are exclusively one or another. Nearly every story contains
description, and exposition is not infrequent; expositions often contain
description and narration, and arguments are often based upon narration
and exposition. Excellent language lessons may be given by examining
masterpieces to see what forms of composition they represent or which
form predominates.
Thus, in _An Exciting Canoe Race_ (Volume VII, page 79), an extract from
Cooper's _The Last of the Mohicans_, may be found several forms of
composition:
1. The story as a whole is narration.
2. On page 81 is this passage in exposition: "That's a trail that
nothing but a nose can follow; grass is a treacherous carpet for a
flying party to tread on, but wood and stone take no print from a
moccasin. Had you worn your armed boots, there might indeed have been
something to fear; but with the deerskin suitably prepared, a man may
trust himself, generally, on rocks with safety. Shove in the canoe
higher to the land, Uncas; this sand will take a stamp as easily as the
butter of the Jarmans on the Mohawk. Softly, lad, softly; it must not
touch the beach, or the knaves will know by what road we have left the
place."
3. On page 86 is this descriptive passage: "The well-known crack of a
rifle, whose ball came skipping along the placid surface of the strait,
and a shrill yell from the island interrupted his speech and announced
that their passage was discovered. In another instant several savages
were seen rushing into the canoes, which were soon dancing over the
water in pursuit. These fearful precursors of a coming struggle produced
no change in the countenances and movements of his three guides, so far
as Duncan could discover, except that the strokes of their paddles were
longer and more in unison, and caused the little bark to spring forward
like a creature possessing life and volition."
It will be observed that the paragraph just quoted is not purely
descriptive, but that it contains something of narration as well. A
single sentence of pure description is the following, to be found on
page 88: "So rapid was the progress of the light vessels that the lake
curled in their front in miniature waves and their motion became
undulating by its own velocity."
The following, from page 90, is a brief argument in conversational form,
the elementary form of debate:
"Get you then into the bottom of the canoe, you and the colonel; it will
be so much taken from the size of the mark."
"It would be but an ill example for the highest in rank to dodge, while
the warriors were under fire!"
"Lord! Lord! that is now a white man's courage! And, like too many of
his notions, not to be maintained by reason. Do you think the Sagamore
or Uncas, or even I, who am a man without a cross, would deliberate
about finding a cover in a scrimmage when an open body would do no good?
For what have the Frenchers reared up their Quebec, if fighting is
always to be done in the clearings?"
"All that you say is very true, my friend; still, our custom must
prevent us from doing as you wish."
Good selections to use for the purposes described and good subjects for
compositions are the following from _Journeys Through Bookland_:
For Narration:
1. Stories from _The Swiss Family Robinson_, Volume III, page 99.
2. _The Story of Siegfried_, III, 410.
3. _The Death of Hector_, IV, 364.
4. _Tom Brown at Rugby_, V, 469.
5. _The Recovery of the Hispaniola_, VII, 352.
6. _The Adventure of the Windmills_, VII, 438.
7. _The Adventure of the Wooden Horse_, VII, 467.
8. _The Battle of Ivry_, VIII, 76.
For Description:
1. _How the Old Woman Looked._ See _The Old Woman Who Lived in a
Shoe_, Volume I, page 35.
2. _The House in the Tree._ See _Swiss Family Robinson_, III, 141.
3. _A Forest Scene._ See _Pictures of Memory_, IV, 128.
4. _Sheridan's Horse._ See _Sheridan's Ride_, IV, 223.
5. _Christmas._ See _The Fir Tree_, II, 68, and _Christmas in Old
Time_, VI, 356.
6. _A Scene of My Childhood._ See _The Old Oaken Bucket_, VII, 11.
7. _My Old Kentucky Home._ See poem of the same name, VII, 179.
For Exposition:
1. _The Character of the Boy, Tom._ See _Tom, the Water Baby_, Volume
II, page 215.
2. _What Kind of a Man was Viking?_ See _The Skeleton in Armor_, V,
327.
3. _Exaggeration and Falsehood._ See _Baron Munchausen_, V, 403.
4. _On the construction, meaning, and sentiment in "Home, Sweet
Home."_ See VI, 221.
5. _The Strength of the Gorilla Compared with that of the Elephant._
See _A Gorilla Hunt_, VII, 247, and _Elephant Hunting_, VI, 385.
6. _The Wit of the Visitor._ See _Limestone Broth_, VI, 467.
7. _A Character Sketch of Alice and John._ See _Dream Children_. VIII,
335.
For Argument:
1. _Was the Second Traveler in the Right?_ See _The Two Travelers_,
Volume I, page 109.
2. _Were the Three Men Perfectly Healthy?_ See _We Plan a River Trip_,
V, 443.
3. _Was the Punishment of the Ancient Mariner Just?_ See _The Rime of
the Ancient Mariner_, VII, 29.
4. _Was it Sensible for Casabianca to Remain on the Burning Ship?_ See
_Casabianca_, VIII, 313.
5. _Should Warren Hastings Have Been Convicted?_ See _The Impeachment
of Warren Hastings_, IX, 32.
CHAPTER XV
JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND IN ITS RELATION TO THE SCHOOL--(Continued)
_Nature Study_
Nature study to be most valuable must be in reality the study of nature.
Its beginnings are in observation and experiment, but there comes a time
when the child must go to books for information and enlightenment. The
purposes of nature study are to awaken a spirit of inquiry concerning
things in the immediate vicinity and thence in wider fields; to develop
observation, comparison and reason; to give interests that will charm
the possessor through life; to introduce the elements of the natural
sciences. Enthusiasts have made the study of nature the basis of all
school work, the correlating force in all studies. Such an idea has
merit in it, for it is certain that lessons begun in the observation of
living things and the phenomena of nature speedily ramify into language,
reading, geography, history, and even mathematics.
There is among some an unfortunate tendency to go too much to books for
material and to seize too quickly any suggestion that leads in that
direction. Yet books are valuable at the proper time and in the proper
place. When facts have been learned, they may be made vital by good
literary selections; when facts not accessible by observation are
needed, they may be obtained through books. On the other hand,
literature is full of allusions to natural facts and phenomena and may
only be understood by him who knows nature. Both phases of the subject
are of vital interest.
Instead of attempting any systematic outline for nature study we will
here try to give help on two problems only:
_First._ How may nature study be broadened by the use of literature?
_Second._ How may the study of nature help in the appreciation of
literature?
I.
In trying to answer the first question we will present first a
classified list of selections from _Journeys Through Bookland_ which are
closely related to the study of nature and indicate briefly how they may
be used.
A. Seven Long Selections.
In the first place, there are long selections in which there are many
anecdotes and incidents which are usable in nature study. We will give
partial lists of what is to be found therein, but it is well to read the
whole selection and choose what is best for the occasion.
1. _Tom, the Water Baby_ (Volume II, page 215). This is one of the most
charming stories in the book, especially for young children, though
older ones and even people of mature years will enjoy it thoroughly.
Tom, a little chimney sweep, after perilous adventures, dies, or rather
turns into a newt or eft, a water baby. His exciting life thereafter is
in the waters, where he meets many of its strange denizens. The whole
story is highly imaginative, humorous, and full of fine lessons,
beautifully given. The more important of his adventures, from our point
of view, are concerned with the following:
The Caddis Fly, pages 261-264.
The Dragon Fly, pages 264-265.
The Sand Fly, pages 267-269.
Otters, pages 270-271, 273-274.
Salmon, pages 272, 279-283.
Tides, page 287.
The Turbot, page 289.
Lobsters, pages 292-294, 300-303.
Sea Cucumbers, page 297.
Great Auk, page 339.
Mother Carey's Chickens (Stormy Petrels), page 344.
2. _Robinson Crusoe_ (Volume III, page 45). Two chapters only are given
from this great story, but the first, dealing with the capture and
education of Crusoe's man Friday, may be worth while to read in
connection with studies of savage races. It is not altogether
scientific.
3. _The Swiss Family Robinson_ (Volume III, page 99). This famous old
story will be charming to children for many generations to come. It is a
tale of the wonderful struggle of a family against nature. It may be a
fact that it is unreasonable and impossible; that not all the seeming
facts are true; that nature never plays so perfectly into the hand of
man; that not all the living things mentioned are to be found in one
locality. But it is clean, wholesome adventure, and the errors in it
will do no harm. Many a good language lesson and many an addition to
nature lessons may be drawn from it. The efforts of the family to
utilize what they find, though too successful, are worthy of imitation.
Some of the more interesting things met by the family are the following:
Lobsters, page 113.
Oysters, pages 114, 117.
Agouti, page 116, with a picture on page 116.
Cocoanuts, pages 125-128.
Calabash Trees, page 123.
Monkeys and Cocoanuts, pages 125-128.
Shark, page 138.
Turtle, pages 145-149.
Penguins (picture), page 152, pages 151-153.
Cassava Bread, pages 154-157.
Caoutchouc, page 170.
Onager (Wild Ass), pages 171-174 (picture, page 172).
New Zealand Flax, pages 175-176.
Flamingo, page 177.
Salt Cavern, pages 180-185.
Herrings, pages 187-188.
Gypsum, page 188.
Boa Constrictor, pages 192-195.
Ostrich, pages 206-215.
Walrus, page 222.
Hyenas, pages 227-228.
Lions, pages 252-256.
4. _Brute Neighbors_ (Volume VII, page 260) is an interesting essay by
Henry David Thoreau, the most delightful of American naturalist writers.
In this essay he chats familiarly about the animals that surround his
cottage in the woods, and shows the closeness of his observation as
well as the breadth of his general knowledge. It is a nature study in
itself as a whole. Besides mention of other animals, he tells
interesting anecdotes of the following:
A Wild Mouse, page 261.
The Partridge, as the ruffed grouse is called in New England, pages
262-263.
The Woodcock, page 264.
The Fighting Ants, pages 264-268.
The Loon, pages 270-274.
5. _The Pond in Winter_ (Volume VII, page 280). This is another of
Thoreau's charming essays in natural history. It contains a pretty
description of the snow and ice covered pond (page 280), an account of
fishing through the ice (pages 282-283), and a vivid description of the
pickerel (pages 283-284).
6. _Winter Animals_ (Volume VII, page 293) is a third one of Thoreau's
essays. An analysis shows that he tells something of all the following
interesting things:
I. Winter routes over lakes, pages 293-294.
II. Sounds by day and night.
a. The melodious note of a hooting owl, page 294.
b. The honking of a goose, page 294.
c. The harsh and tremulous call of a cat-owl, page 294.
d. The whooping of the ice, page 295.
e. The barking of foxes, page 295.
f. The feet of the red squirrel down the sides of the house, page
295.
g. The discordant screams of the jays, page 298.
h. The wiry note of the chickadee, page 298.
i. The whirring wings of the partridges, page 299.
j. The yelping of hounds, and the hunting
horn (including fox hunting), pages 300-304.
III. The destructiveness of squirrels and wild mice, pages 296-297.
IV. The hares, pages 304-305.
7. _Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_ (Volume VII, page 306) is a
selection from the writings of Thomas Belt. It is an extremely
interesting account of some of the curious adaptations of plants and
animals to each other, as is indicated sufficiently by the title. An
outline of the essay follows:
I. A species of acacia, pages 306-309.
1. Houses and feeds ants.
a. Houses in thorns.
b. Feeds (1) by glands and (2) by a pear-shaped appendage.
2. Ants protect trees.
3. Each seems beneficial to the other.
II. A cecropia, or trumpet tree, pages 309-311.
1. Houses and feeds ants.
a. Houses in hollow stems.
b. Feeds ants through herds of plant-lice that suck juices of
plant and secrete honey.
2. Ants protect trees.
3. Apparently beneficial to all.
III. An evergreen shrub.
1. Houses and (probably) feeds ants.
a. Houses in pouches at base of leaves.
b. Probably feeds ants through the services
of scale insects and plant-lice.
2. Ants protect shrubs.
3. Probably beneficial to all.
IV. Plants feeding ants, pages 311-312.
1. Orchids.
2. Passion flowers.
3. Dog rose.
B. Classified Selections
The following selections, ranging from nursery rhymes to some of the
finest things ever written, may be considered available for the purpose
of creating interest in nature study or of adding to a stock of
knowledge already acquired. For convenience, they are classified in a
general way, according to the subject-matter of which they treat:
I. Flowers and plant life:
_a._ Nursery rhymes:
(1) _Daffy-Down-Dilly Has Come Up to Town_, Volume I, page 47.
(2) _Mary, Mary Quite Contrary_, I, 30.
_b._ Fables:
(1) _The Boy and the Nettle_, Volume I, page 65.
(2) _The Fox and the Grapes_, I, 135.
_c._ Fairy Tales:
(1) _The Tree_, Volume I, page 301.
(2) _The Flax_, I, 378.
(3) _The Fir Tree_, II, 68.
_d._ Poems:
(1) _The Reaper and the Flowers_, Volume I, page 410.
(2) _John's Pumpkin_, III, 1.
(3) _The Potato_, II, 467.
(4) _The Moss Rose_, VI, 98.
(5) _The Daffodils_, VII, 1.
(6) _To the Fringed Gentian_, VII, 4.
(7) _To a Mountain Daisy_, VII, 8.
(8) _The Petrified Fern_, VII, 77.
_e._ An interesting essay:
(1) _A Bed of Nettles_, Volume VIII, page 209.
_f._ See references to _The Swiss Family Robinson_ and _Trees
and Ants That Help Each Other_, in the earlier part of this
section.
II. Birds:
_a._ Nursery rhymes:
(1) _Lady Bird, Lady Bird_, Volume I, page 12.
(2) _Higgledy, Piggledy_, I, 20.
(3) _Poor Robin_, I, 16.
_b._ Poems:
(1) _Little Birdie_, Volume I, page 142.
(2) _The Brown Thrush_, I, page 147.
(3) _The English Robin_, II, 214.
(4) _Who Stole the Bird's Nest_? II, 399.
(5) _Four Ducks on a Pond_, VI, 98.
(6) _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_, VII, 29.
(7) _Ode to a Skylark_, VII, 275
(8) _To a Waterfowl_, VII, 395.
(9) _The Romance of the Swan's Nest_, VIII, 315.
_c._ Fables:
(1) _The Fox and the Crow_, Volume I, page 64.
(2) _The Fox and the Stork_, I, 73.
(3) _The Wolf and the Crane_, I, 96.
(4) _The Lark and Her Young Ones_, I, 131.
(5) _The Owl and the Pussy Cat_, I, 339.
(6) _Minerva and the Owl_, II, 7.
_d._ Fairy Story:
(1) _The Ugly Duckling_, Volume I, page 414.
_e._ An Essay:
(1) _Owls_, IX, page 229.
_f._ See also references to _Tom, the Water Baby_, _The Swiss
Family Robinson_, _Brute Neighbors_, and _Winter Animals_,
in earlier parts of this section.
III. Four-footed animals:
_a._ Nursery rhymes:
(1) _Ding Dong Bell_, Volume I, page 15.
(2) _Little Bo Peep_, I, 9.
(3) _Old Mother Hubbard_, I, 24.
(4) _Three Little Kittens_, I, 13.
(5) _Baa, Baa, Black Sheep_ I, 8.
_b._ Fables:
(1) _The Fox and the Crow_, Volume I, page 64.
(2) _The Ass in the Lion's Skin_, I, 65.
(3) _The Fox and the Stork_, I, 73.
(4) _The Gnat and the Bull_, I, 70.
(5) _The Lion and the Mouse_, I, 75.
(6) _The Wolf and the Crane_, I, 96.
(7) _The Fox and the Grapes_, I, 135.
(8) _The Bat and the Two Weasels_, I, 154.
(9) _The Owl and the Pussy Cat_, I, 339.
(10) _The Horse and the Stag,_ I, 338.
(11) _The Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse_, I, 377.
(12) _The Wolf and the Lamb_, I, 455.
_c._ Poetry:
(1) _The Cow_, Volume I, page 106.
(2) _Mercy to Animals_, I, 413.
(3) _How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_, V, 335.
(4) _To a Mouse_, VII, 5.
_d._ Stories:
(1) _A Dog of Flanders_, Volume IV, page 93.
(2) _The Lion and the Missionary_, VI, 93.
(3) _Rab and His Friends_, VI, 99.
(4) _Elephant Hunting_, VI, 385.
(5) _The Gorilla Hunt_, VII, 247.
_e._ Essays:
(1) _Some Clever Monkeys_, Volume VI, page 402.
(2) _The Buffalo_, VII, 96.
_f._ See, also, references to _Tom, the Water Baby_, _The Swiss
Family Robinson_, _Brute Neighbors_, and _The Pond in Winter_,
in the earlier part of this section.
IV. Reptiles:
_a._ Fable:
(1) _The Boys and the Frogs_, Volume I, page 63.
_b._ See, also, references to _Tom, the Water Baby_, and _The
Swiss Family Robinson_, in the earlier part of this section.
V. Insects:
_a._ Nursery rhyme:
(1) _Little Miss Muffett_, Volume I, page 29.
_b._ Fable:
(1) _The Gnat and the Bull_, I, 70.
_c._ Poem:
(1) _The Spider and the Fly_, III, 19.
_d._ Essay:
(1) _Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_, VII, 306.
_e._ See, also, references to _Tom, the Water Baby_, in the earlier
part of this section.
VI. Denizens of the water:
_a._ Fish:
(1) _Salmon Fishing_, Volume VII, page 285.
(2) "Pickerel," in _The Pond in Winter_, VII, 280.
(3) See, also, "Salmon," in _Tom, the Water Baby_, II, 272, 279-283.
_b._ See numerous references to _Tom, the Water Baby_, in the
earlier part of this section.
VII. Natural Phenomena:
_a._ Nursery rhymes:
(1) _Rainbow in the Morning_, Volume I, page 48.
(2) _If All the World Were Water_, I, 48.
_b._ Poems:
(1) _Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star_, Volume I, page 44.
(2) _The Sun's Travels_, I, 68.
(3) _Rain_, I, 110.
(4) _Autumn Fires_, I, 394.
(5) _The Wind_, I, 440.
(6) _The First Snowfall_, II 403.
(7) _In Time's Swing_, II, 481.
(8) _Echo_, III, 286.
(9) _The Rainbow_, VI, 91.
(10) _Sweet and Low_, VI, 122.
(11) _The Cloud_, VII, 257.
_c._ Fable:
(1) _The Wind and the Sun_, Volume I, page 95.
VIII. Geographical in Nature:
(1) _At the Seaside_, Volume I, page 129.
(2) _From a Railway Carriage_, I, 198.
(3) _Stop, Stop, Pretty Water_, I, 317.
(4) _Song of the Brook_, IV, 60.
(5) _A Descent into the Maelstrom_, VIII, 95.
(6) _Ascent of the Jungfrau_, IX, 1.
II
Aid in answering the second problem may be found in the following
paragraph:
A series of interesting studies may be founded on the use which authors
make of nature by way of direct and indirect allusion in their works.
Such lessons are the opposite of those we have been considering. Now,
the literary selection is taken first, read carefully and the allusions
noted and classified. It will be noticed that it is not necessary that
selections used for this purpose should be new to the pupils. In fact,
genuine literature has the merit of being always new, always
interesting. No better service can be rendered to a child than to create
in him a love for the fine things in literature. Continued, monotonous
study of a masterpiece may breed dislike of it, especially if the
exercises are dull and formal. But to approach an old favorite from a
new direction, to look at it from a new point of view, is to lend it
added charms.
A. To illustrate our method, we will use _The King of the Golden River_
(Volume II, page 405).
1. _Assignment._ The leader assigns the work as follows: "I wish you to
read the first section of _The King of the Golden River_ and write in
the order of their occurrence, every mention of a living thing or
natural object and every allusion to them. Use the words of the story
when possible, but be brief. After each put a number, to show the page
of the story. Let us see who can find the greatest number and who can
make the best paper."
2. _Preparation._ If the children work well their lists will be
something like this:
a. The valley in the mountains. Page 405.
(1) Snow-covered peaks; cataracts; a crag; river; circular hollows.
(2) Heavy crops; high hay; red apples; blue grapes; rich wine; sweet
honey.
(3) Blackbirds; hedgehogs; crickets; cicadas.
(4) Corn.
b. The wet summer. Page 407.
(1) Hay; vines; corn.
c. A nice piece of mutton. Page 408.
d. Must be the wind. Page 408.
e. A black feather some three feet long. Page 409.
f. Like a beaten puppy's tail. Page 410.
g. Like a mill stream. Page 410.
h. Licking its chops. Page 410.
i. A gust of wind that made the old chimneys totter. Page 411.
j. Quicksilver-like streams. Page 411.
k. Like a straw in the high wind. Page 413.
l. A wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled and rolled away down the
valley. Page 415.
m. A gush of rain. Page 415.
n. Howling wind and rushing rain without intermission. Page 415.
o. The room was full of water. Page 416.
p. A misty moonbeam. Page 416.
r. Like a cork. Page 416.
s. The inundation. Pages 416-417.
(1) Trees; crops; cattle swept away.
(2) Red sand and gray mud left in their stead.
(3) Corn swept away.
(4) _Breezy_ letters.
(5) Southwest Wind, Esquire.
3. _Recitation._ The leader's part in the recitation is to help the
children to classify the things mentioned, to bring out the meaning of
the figures of speech, and to see that the allusions are understood.
In writing this fine chapter, Ruskin has mentioned or alluded to the
following:
a. Land and water forms: Mountains; valley; snow; peaks; cataracts;
river; circular hollow; mill stream; cloud; rain; globe of foam.
b. Animals: Sheep (mutton); bird (feathers); puppy; dog (licking its
chops); wolf (howling wind); cattle.
c. Plant life: Crops; hay; apples; grapes; corn; vines; straw; cork;
trees.
d. Natural phenomena: A wet summer wind blowing; gushing rain;
whirling clouds; misty moonbeam; floating foam; sweeping
inundation; breezes (breezy letters).
e. Rock material: Quicksilver; red sand; gray mud.
f. Natural products: Crops; apples; hay; grapes; wine; honey; corn;
mutton; cork; cattle.
g. Figures of speech: (In studying figures of speech, make three
points in each, viz.: _First_, the basis of the figure; _second_,
the translation of the figure into literal English; _third_, the
force and beauty of the figure and its effect on the meaning of the
sentence. With older children the names of the figures may be
given. Illustrations of these directions will follow.)
(1) Like a beaten puppy's tail. (A beaten puppy drops his tail and
drags it weakly behind him. The feather drooped down behind him
and dragged limply along. The figure gives a vivid picture of the
wet feather, limp and unhandsome. The figure is a comparison in
the form of a _simile_.)
(2) Like a mill stream. (Rushing, roaring, fast and furious.)
(3) Licking its chops. (_First_, a dog runs out his tongue and
licks his lips and the outside of his face [cheeks--chops] when he
sees food brought to him. A red flame twists and waves around like
the tongue of a dog. We speak of "tongues of flame" and "hungry
flames devouring." _Second_, long streams of flame waved around
and curled about the wood as they burned it. _Third_, how much
more vivid is the picture we see of the beautiful fire. The words
"rustling" and "roaring" help to strengthen the figure. This is a
fine comparison, but as it is not directly expressed by the use of
the words "like" or "as" we call it a _metaphor_.)
(4) Quicksilver-like streams. (Bright, shining, smoothly running,
with metallic luster.)
(5) Like a straw in the high wind. (Rapid, uncertain, irregular
motion.)
(6) A wreath of ragged cloud. (Notice the metaphor in _wreath_--also
in _ragged_.)
(7) Howling wind. (A wolf howls. The figure which raises an inanimate
object to the level of animate beings, or raises an animate being
[a dog, for instance] to the level of a human being, is called
_personification_.)
(8) Like a cork.
(9) _Swept_ away.
(10) _Breezy_ letters. (The words _swept_ and _breezy_ are
somewhat metaphorical, though their frequent use in this manner
makes the meaning almost literal.)
(11) Southwest Wind, Esquire. (Personification.)
B. A second lesson may confine itself more closely to the figures of
speech. Naturally this study of figures belongs with language and
literature, but the point we wish to make is one of correlation. There
is a literary side to nature study, and a natural history side to
literature. Many of the greatest authors have been ardent lovers of
nature, and have drawn liberally on their knowledge of nature in
beautifying what they have written. Many a reader, from lack of
knowledge or from careless habits, passes over the most delightful
things, as blind and deaf as he who sees no beauty in the wild flowers
and hears no melody in the songs of birds.
For the second lesson of this character we will take the second and
third chapters of _The King of the Golden River_, hoping to find an
abundance of figures based on nature in some of its forms. We may not
find many. Some writers use few. We suspect that Ruskin used them
freely; as a matter of fact he was one of the greatest lovers of nature,
a man who labored hard to bring art and nature together and to find a
place for them in the lives of all.
We find in the second chapter the following nature figures:
a. Southwest Wind, Esquire, page 418.
b. His relations, the West Winds, page 418.
c. It looks more like silk, page 419.
d. The hot breath of the furnace, page 420.
e. Bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and quivering about them,
page 420.
f. A clear _metallic_ voice, page 420.
g. Like that of a kettle on the boil, page 421.
h. As smooth and polished as a river, page 421.
i. The prismatic colors gleamed over it, as if on a surface of
mother-of-pearl, page 422.
j. In order to allow time for the consternation ... to evaporate, page
424.
In the third chapter are the following:
a. Knotty question, page 426.
b. Like a line of forked lightning, page 427.
(This whole paragraph is a wonderfully beautiful description.)
c. Rose like slow smoke, page 427.
d. In feeble wreaths, page 428.
e. Shrieks resembling those of human voices in distress or pain, page
428.
f. None like the ordinary forms of splintered ice, page 428.
g. _Deceitful_ shadows, page 428.
h. Lurid lights _played_, page 428.
i. Ice _yawned_ into fresh chasms, page 428.
j. Fell _thundering_ across his path, page 429.
k. Rays _beat_ intensely, page 429.
l. Its lips parched and burning, page 430.
m. Long snake-like shadows, page 430.
n. The _leaden_ weight of the _dead_ air pressed upon his brow and
heart, page 430.
o. Shaped like a sword, page 431.
p. Like a red-hot ball, page 431.
q. They shook their crests like tongues of fire, page 432.
r. Flashes of _bloody_ light gleamed along their foam, page 432.
s. An icy chill shot through his limbs, page 432.
t. The _moaning_ of the river, page 432.
u. _The Black Stone_, page 432.
CHAPTER XVI
JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND IN ITS RELATION TO THE SCHOOL--(Continued)
_Geography and History_
The connection between geography and history on the one hand and
literature on the other is most intimate. In the first place nearly all
our knowledge of history must come through reading, and while we learn
our geography most accurately through travel and observation, but a
small part of our information comes through those channels. We read
incessantly of our own country and others, we fill our minds with
visions of plants, animals and the peoples of foreign lands from the
facts we gather from the papers, magazines and books. If most of our
facts come through reading it is no less true that most of our real
interest in geography and history comes not from the facts of our
text-books but from the literature we have read, the literature that
clothed those facts and made them real and living. Ask yourselves what
gave you your first real interest in the history of Scotland and see if
your answer is not, "The novels of Scott." Again, where did you get your
first adequate ideas of chivalry and the feudal system if it was not
from _Ivanhoe_ or some similar piece of literature? What makes the
Crimean War a household word in the homes of two continents if it is not
the deeds of Florence Nightingale and Tennyson's _Charge of the Light
Brigade_? Who can tell most of the Battle of Waterloo, he who has read
the facts of history or he who has read Byron's thrilling poem and the
description by Victor Hugo? Who knows the English home as it was? He who
reads Goldsmith's _Deserted Village_.
[Illustration: OLIVER GOLDSMITH
MATTHEW ARNOLD
JOHN RUSKIN
THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY
JOHN BUNYAN
THOMAS DE QUINCEY
CHARLES LAMB]
It is in furnishing those literary masterpieces that give life to
geography and inspiration to history that _Journeys Through Bookland_
gives the best of assistance to boys and girls in their school work.
Some of its selections will give facts and many of them, but the facts
form the smaller part of the contribution. History is valuable only as
it enables us to understand the present, thrills us with the
accomplishments of the past and teaches us how to live and act in the
future. No man is so wrapped up in business that he does not heed the
charm of noble deeds and fails to be moved by glorious achievement. Some
histories are literature in themselves and have the inspiring quality we
crave, but most of them are too dry and scientific to afford much
interest to the child. So the greater part of our selections are not
from the books that are called real history but from those which appeal
to the imagination and stir the soul. Geographical teaching is likewise
indirect in _Journeys_ but it is none the less helpful and inspiring. To
prove the truth of these statements we have only to present what the
books contain and show how the selections may be used.
It does not seem wise to separate the two subjects too widely, for they
are closely related and intimately interwoven in almost all reading.
There are, it is true, some masterpieces that may be considered purely
geographical and others that are as entirely historical, but these will
be easily identified. Yet for ease and readiness in locating them we
append a list of nearly one hundred selections and classify them in a
simple manner:
1. Largely geographical.
_a._ Juvenile poems with geographical allusions, or based on
geographical facts:
(1) _The Suns Travels_, Volume I, page 68.
(2) _Singing_, I, 83.
(3) _Foreign Lands_, I, 130.
(4) _At the Seaside_, I, 129.
(5) _Old Gaelic Lullaby_, I, 203.
(6) _Where Go the Boats?_ I, 256.
(7) _Foreign Children_, I, 351.
(8) _Keepsake Mill_, I, 349.
(9) _Windy Nights_, II, 123.
(10) _Picture Books in Winter_, II, 87.
(11) _The Child's World_, II, 66.
_b._ Stories and poems that describe places or people in Europe
and some of their customs and modes of life:
(1) _The Tree_, Volume I, page 301.
(2) _The Snow Maiden_, I, 257.
(3) _The Snow Queen_, II, 124.
(4) _The Skeleton in Armor_, V, 327.
(5) _Rab and His Friends_, VI, 99.
(6) _The Governor and the Notary_, VII, 20.
(7) _Don Quixote_, VII, 431.
(8) _The Alhambra_, VIII, 153.
(9) _Ascent of the Jungfrau_, IX, 1.
(10) _The Cotters Saturday Night_, VIII, 319.
_c._ Fanciful legends with geographical interests:
(1) _Why the Sea Is Salt_, Volume II, page 484.
(2) _Origin of the Opal_, II, 480.
_d._ A Story from Japan.
(1) _The Mirror of Matsuyana_, Volume II, page 36.
_e._ A story of longitude:
(1) _Three Sundays in a Week_, Volume VI, page 453.
_f._ Plants or plant life:
(1) _The Potato_, Volume II, page 467.
(2) _Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_, VII, 306.
(3) _A Bed of Nettles_, VIII, 209.
_g._ Animal life:
(1) _Salmon Fishing_, VII, 285.
(2) _Winter Animals_, VII, 293.
(3) _Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_, VII, 306.
(4) _Owls_, IX, 229.
(5) _Elephant Hunting_, VI, 385.
(6) _Some Clever Monkeys_, VI, 402,
(7) _The Buffalo_, VII, 96.
(8) _A Gorilla Hunt_, VII, 247.
(9) _Brute Neighbors_, VII, 260.
(10) _The Pond in Winter_, VII, 280.
_h._ Natural phenomena:
(1) _The Cloud_, Volume VII, page 257.
2. Indians and their habits. The selections are either historical or
geographical or both.
_a._ _The Arickara Indians._ (A description of the habits
and customs of one of the western tribes.) Volume IV, page
472.
_b._ _Reminiscences of a Pioneer._ (This contains a few
interesting anecdotes of Indians and many incidents of pioneer
life.) Volume V, page 340.
_c._ _Black Hawk Tragedy._ (A very interesting biographical
and historical sketch.) Volume VII, page 58.
_d._ _An Exciting Canoe Race._ (A story of the New York Indians
at an early day.) Volume VII, page 79.
_e._ _David Crockett in the Creek War._ (An interesting account
of southern Indians and their wars.) Volume VIII, page 37.
3. Biography. The selections in this group consist of anecdotal
sketches, brief biographies, extracts from longer works, and a few
poems.
_a._ Authors of the United States and of foreign countries:
(1) _Robert Louis Stevenson_, Volume I, page 128.
(2) _Eugene Field_, I, 242.
(3) _Hans Christian Andersen_, II, 81.
(4) _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_, IV, 62.
(5) _Alice and Phoebe Cary_, IV, 116.
(6) _Nathaniel Hawthorne_, IV, 180.
(7) _Sir Walter Scott_, VI, 26.
(8) _John Greenleaf Whittier_, VII, 381.
(9) _William Cullen Bryant_, VII, 391.
(10) _Oliver Wendell Holmes_, VII, 398.
(11) _James Russell Lowell_, VII, 411.
(12) _Washington Irving_, VIII, 216.
(13) _Charles and Mary Lamb_, VIII, 328.
_b._ Biblical Characters:
(1) _The Story of Joseph_, Volume I, page 456.
(2) _The Story of Esther_, II, 448.
(3) _David_, IV, 274.
(4) _Ruth_, VI, 143.
_c._ The author of many fables:
(1) _Aesop_, Volume II, page 1.
_d._ English history:
(1) _Alfred the Great_, Volume IV, 260.
(2) _Queen Victoria_, VII, 152.
(3) _Florence Nightingale_, IX, 13.
_e._ American history:
(1) _George Rogers Clark_, Volume VI, page 422.
(2) _David Crockett in the Creek War_, VIII, 37.
(3) _Père Marquette_, VIII, 121.
(4) _Abraham Lincoln_, IX, 324.
_f._ Roman history:
(1) _Julius Cæsar_, Volume IX, page 126.
4. Myths from several sources:
_a._ Grecian and Roman:
(1) _Atalanta's Race_, Volume I, page 386.
(2) _Baucis and Philemon_, I, 431.
(3) _The Golden Touch_, II, 43.
(4) _The Chimera_, II, 173.
(5) _The Story of Phaethon_, II, 206.
(6) _The Queen of the Underworld_, II, 468.
(7) _Cupid and Psyche_, III, 365.
_b._ Northern Europe:
(1) _How the Wolf was Bound_, II, 91.
(2) _The Death of Balder_, II, 99.
(3) _The Punishment of Loki_, II, 111.
(4) _Beowulf and Grendel_, III, 350.
_c._ Miscellaneous:
(1) _Stories of the Creation_, Volume IV, page 159.
5. Legendary heroes. The following selections give vivid ideas of the
great national heroes whose reputed deeds have been an inspiration
to hosts of children in many lands:
_a._ Scandinavian:
(1) _Frithiof the Bold_, Volume III, page 394.
_b._ German:
(1) _The Story of Siegfried_, Volume III, page 410.
_c._ English:
(1) _Robin Hood_, Volume III, page 436.
(2) _King Arthur_, V, 113.
(3) _Balin and Balan_, V, 130.
(4) _Geraint and Enid_, V, 148.
(5) _The Holy Grail_, V, 207.
(6) _Dissensions at King Arthur's Court_, V, 232.
(7) _The Passing of Arthur_, V, 237.
_d._ French:
(1) _Roland at Roncesvalles_, Volume III, page 460.
_e._ Spanish:
(1) _The Cid_, Volume IV, page 9.
_f._ Greek:
(1) _The Death of Hector_, Volume IV, page 364.
(2) _Ulysses_, IV, 398.
_g._ Roman:
(1) _Horatius_, Volume VI, page 1.
6. Historical tales, poems, and selections of different kinds and
varying degrees of difficulty:
_a._ Northern Europe:
(1) _Holger Danske_, Volume II, page 377.
(2) _Make Way for Liberty_, VII, 172.
(3) _Marco Bozzaris_, VIII, 90.
_b._ France and Napoleon:
(1) _Incident of the French Camp_, Volume IV, page 174.
(2) _Battle of Ivry_, VIII, 76.
(3) _Hervé Riel_, VIII, 168.
(4) _The Battle of Waterloo_, VIII, 176.
(5) _The Battle of Cressy_, IX, 161.
_c._ Classic lands:
(1) _The Wooden Horse_, Volume IV, page 383.
(2) _The Battle of Thermopylae_, VIII, 81.
(3) _The Death of Caesar_, IX, 126.
(4) _The Death of Caesar_, IX, 143.
(5) _Julius Caesar_, IX, 155.
_d._ British Isles:
(1) _Chevy Chase_, Volume IV, page 312.
(2) _The Ballad of Agincourt_, V, 95.
(3) _Some Children's Books of the Past_, V, 101.
(4) _The Rise of Robert Bruce_, V, 278.
(5) _Bruce and the Spider_, V, 314.
(6) _The Heart of Bruce_, V, 316.
(7) _The Tournament_, VI, 38.
(8) _Bannockburn_, VII, 15.
(9) _The Charge of the Light Brigade_, VII, 147.
(10) _The Recessional_, VII, 164.
(11) _The Battle of Trafalgar_, VIII, 284.
(12) _Casabianca_, VIII, 313.
(13) _The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_, IX, 32.
(14) _The Battle of Cressy_, IX, 161.
(15) _The Battle of Hastings_, IX, 330.
_e._ United States:
(1) _The Pine Tree Shillings_, Volume IV, page 192.
(2) _The Sunken Treasure_, IV, 199.
(3) _The Hutchinson Mob_, IV, 208.
(4) _The Boston Massacre_, IV, 217.
(5) _The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England_, IV, 197.
(6) _Sheridan's Ride_, IV, 223.
(7) _Henry Hudson's Fourth Voyage_, V, 254.
(8) _Reminiscences of a Pioneer_, V, 340.
(9) _Braddock's Defeat_, V, 379.
(10) _The American Flag_, V, 396.
(11) _Stonewall Jackson's Way_, V, 400.
(12) _The Capture of Vincennes_, VI, 428.
(13) _The Old Continentals_, VII, 175.
(14) _America_, VIII, 60.
(15) _The Fall of the Alamo_, VIII, 141.
(16) _The Knickerbocker History of New York_, VIII, 224.
(17) _The Battle of Saratoga_, IX, 176.
(18) _The Gettysburg Address_, IX, 321.
_f._ America, outside of the United States:
(1) _The Buccaneers_, Volume V, page 359.
(2) _Captain Morgan at Maracaibo_, V, 365.
(3) _Ringrose and His Buccaneers_, VIII, 1.
(4) _The Retreat of Cortez_, VIII, 63.
The object of teaching geography and history is not solely that children
may acquire a collection of facts. Too often the lessons in these
branches consist merely in memorizing text books, in learning long
descriptions, in the study of meaningless maps and in the listing of
political and military events in chronological order. The value of such
work is comparatively small, and the studies cannot be considered
profitable. If, however, children are taught to know and understand
people, their habits and modes of life; if they learn geographical facts
in their relation to humanity, to study events in the relation of cause
to effect, to seek for truth and the meaning of things, then nothing is
more productive of good than the teaching of geography and history.
If we accept as true the foregoing statements, then methods of teaching
the subjects become clear as we think of them. It is evident that early
lessons should be designed to create interest:
(1) In the world of things immediately around us; in the land and what
grows and lives upon it; in the water, its relation to the land, its
motions, and the life that it contains; in the air, its phenomena and
its denizens; in human beings, their feelings and all their activities.
(2) In the great earth as a whole and its parts; in foreign animals and
plants; in humanity in other lands.
It appears that so broad an outline as the one just given can never be
filled in, that the study of geography and history, the study of the
world and its peoples, can never be completed. If such is the case, it
follows that the teacher who creates the most vital interest in the
subject, who leaves with her pupils the most ardent desire to study and
know, has been of greatest service to them.
Now, the great interests of life have their inception in early years
when the mind is active, curiosity strong, and instruction accepted
without question. Then should be created that abiding interest which
will make good students of geography and history, good citizens, good
men and women. If too many formal lessons are given them, and pupils are
set to work at dreary tasks and are asked to memorize dry facts, it is
probable that they will never become good students. How, then, shall an
abiding interest be created?
The entrance to the field of geography is through nature study, which is
discussed elsewhere under that title. For the first two years of a
child's school life he will hear nothing of geography, and even in the
third year there will be little formal reference to it, but all the time
he is quietly mastering facts and developing interests that are
geographical in their character.
When systematic lessons begin, there should be presented only real facts
and genuine things, that bear some close and direct relation to
ourselves and that should be matters of personal observation, as far as
possible. Day and night in summer and winter, the seasons, the weather,
wind, rain, snow, sleet, foods, clothing, the occupations of the
neighborhood, the brooks and bodies of water about the school, hills,
valleys, plains, plants and animals of the locality, each in turn
serves its purpose. We cannot here show how these various subjects
should be treated, but to illustrate the use of literature in elementary
geography lessons we will present an outline on a single subject. New
possibilities will be seen in every direction if frequent use of the
list given above is made in finding suitable selections.
If we choose the wind as the subject of our model lesson, we may be sure
to cover several recitations that will lead us into reading, nature
study and language (oral and written). It is a subject that encourages
wide correlation. The outline might be the following:
1. _Purpose of the Lesson._ To teach the following facts:
_a._ That air occupies space.
_b._ That wind is air in motion and has force.
_c._ The directions and names of winds.
_d._ The uses of winds.
2. _Experiments and Observation._
_a._ _Take an empty bottle and thrust it squarely, mouth down, into
water._ Does the water rise in the bottle? (Only a little way.)
Why? (It can't get in. There is air in the bottle.)
_b._ _Raise the bottle slowly and tip it slightly so that a part of
the mouth is above the water, then push it horizontally into
the water._ Does the water go into the bottle now? (Yes.) Why?
(Because there is no air there to keep it out.) How do you
know? (I saw the air coming out in bubbles.) Why didn't the air
come out when we pushed the bottle down the first time? (The
water was too heavy; it held the air in.)
_c._ _Hold your hand close in front of your mouth and blow._ Can you
feel anything? (Yes; the air strikes my hand.) When you are out
in the wind can you feel it? (Yes; it pushes against me.) Can
it push hard? (Yes; sometimes it pushes over trees and houses.)
What is the wind? (It is air moving.)
_d._ Is the wind blowing today? Did it blow yesterday? From what
direction is it (was it) blowing? How do you know? (I saw trees
bending away from it. I felt it pushing from that side. It came
in at that window. The vane on the church steeple pointed that
way.)
_e._ When a wind comes from the South, what do we call it? (South
wind.) When a wind blows from the North what do we call it?
(North wind.) What wind brings cold weather? (North.) What wind
brings warm weather? (South.) What wind brings long spells of
rainy weather? (East.) What wind brings showers and
thunderstorms? (South and West.) What winds prevail in summer?
(South and West.) What winds prevail in winter? (North.)
_f._ What work have you seen the wind do? (Turn windmills; sail
boats.) Have you seen it do any work for us here? (Yes; it
drives the clouds that bring us rain. It drives away stormy
clouds.) Can't you think of something else? (It scatters seeds
of plants. It shakes nuts from trees. It helps melt snow and
ice. It keeps the air clean and pure.)
3. _Literature._
_a._ As an introduction to the lesson or in preparation, give the
first two stanzas of that beautiful poem by W. B. Rands, _The
Child's World_ (Volume II, page 66).
_b._ In considering the strength of the wind, there is a fine
opportunity to introduce the fable _The Wind and the Sun_
(Volume I, page 95).
_c._ Robert Louis Stevenson's verses, _Windy Nights_ (Volume II,
page 123), are entertaining and give an opportunity for nice
explanation.
_d._ In the same light as the preceding selection may be regarded
the imaginative verses by the same author, _The Wind_ (Volume
I, page 440).
_e._ In _The King of the Golden River_ (Volume II) is a humorous
personification of the southwest wind. It is strikingly true of
the nature of that wind. The description begins on page 408,
and a second appearance of the wind is chronicled on page 415.
_f._ Finest of all the selections for this topic is Tennyson's
exquisite lullaby, _Sweet and Low_ (Volume VI, page 122). This
is well worth memorizing.
If we wish a model for a history lesson, the following will answer:
One of the interesting characters in history is King Alfred of England,
and in the sketch of him (Volume IV, page 260) are facts enough for
several elementary lessons in history. The outline for teaching might be
as follows:
1. _Preparation._
_a._ Read the article above referred to, and such other material
concerning Alfred as can be found.
_b._ Select two incidents for story telling and prepare them for
recital. (See articles on _Story Telling_ in this Volume.)
2. _Presentation._
_a._ Tell the first story (page 260). It might be given in this
form:
"More than a thousand years ago, Alfred, the youngest of the four sons
of the king, was born. He was a fine lad and the favorite of his
parents, but when he was twelve years of age he had not yet learned to
read. This is not so strange, when we stop to think that it was long
before people knew anything about printing, and every letter in every
book had to be slowly made with a pen.
"This made books very expensive and rare, so that only a few people
could own even one. Still, you have no idea how beautiful some of those
books were. They were written on thin, fine-grained leather called
parchment, and were beautifully decorated in colors. The capital letters
which began paragraphs, and sometimes all the capital letters, were made
large, in fanciful shapes, and all around them were painted flowers,
birds, human beings, or pretty designs, so that each letter was a
beautiful picture in itself. Then in the margins, above the titles, at
every place where there was no writing were still other delicate
designs. Some of those wonderful old books are still in existence, and
people go long distances to see them. They are more valuable now than
ever, and most of them are safely guarded in museums.
"One day Alfred's mother was reading to her children, from one of those
beautiful books, some fine poems which the Saxons had written. The boys
all became very much interested in the rich little paintings that
decorated it. The mother pointed out its beauties and told the boys how
carefully the artists had worked and how long it had taken them to do
it.
"'Did you ever see its equal?' she asked.
"'No,' replied the oldest boy, 'I have not seen anything like it. I wish
I had one like it.'
"'Boys,' said the mother, 'this is one of the greatest treasures I have,
and I would not like to part with it. Yet I love my boys better than the
book, and I want them to learn to read. So this is what I will gladly
do: I will give this book to the first of you who comes to me and shows
that he can read it understandingly.'
"'It is my book, for I can read some already,' said the oldest.
"'But I can work harder than you, and I will learn faster,' said the
second.
"'I learn more easily than any of you,' the third boy added. 'I feel
sure I shall win the book.'
"Alfred said nothing, but as soon as his mother had ceased to read he
hurried away, found a wise man to teach him and began immediately to
work with great diligence. It was not long before he began to read for
himself, and before his brothers had made much progress Alfred went to
his mother.
"'I think I can read the book,' he said.
"'I do not think you have had time to learn. You are hurrying too much.
You should study more,' his mother replied.
"'But, mother, please let me try,' pleaded Alfred.
"The mother yielded and Alfred brought the big book to her and laid it
on her knee. Then he opened it at the beginning and with very few
mistakes read poem after poem. His mother was more than satisfied, and
when Alfred left the room he was hugging the elegant book and carrying
it to his part of the castle.
"This was only the beginning, for Alfred became the greatest scholar and
the wisest king the Saxons ever had. He made just laws, he ruled kindly,
he founded schools, and he tried in every way to make his subjects
better, wiser and happier. Do you not think it all began in his love for
the beautiful look?"
3. _Recitation._
Ask questions and make the children see in the story:
_a._ (The Introduction.) The first general facts about Alfred.
_b._ (The Body of the Narrative.) The story of how Alfred learned
to read.
_c._ (The Conclusion.) Alfred wins the prize and becomes a great ruler.
Then ask them to tell the story in their own words.
Finally ask them to write the story for a composition.
4. _Additional Information._ Find out what other things about Alfred are
already known to the class. Then tell the story of Alfred and the cakes
(page 261); of his battles with the Danes under Guthrum (page 262); of
his war with the Danes under Hastings (page 263); of his work for his
people (page 264); and of his plans and inventions (page 265).
5. _Supplementary Readings._ If the lessons on Alfred have been well
conducted, interest will have been created in a variety of subjects
relating to early English history. The Saxons, their mode of life,
armor, weapons, manner of warfare, laws and customs; the Danes and their
characteristics; the rulers who followed Alfred; the formation of the
English nation, are topics that readily suggest themselves.
* * * * *
More or less closely connected with these lines of thought are the
following selections in _Journeys Through Bookland_. Interest may be
deflected in any direction. If the selections are too hard for the class
to read, tell the stories in simplified form:
1. _The Legends of King Arthur_ (Volume V, beginning on page 113).
2. _The Attack on the Castle_ (Volume IV, page 322).
3. _The Battle of Hastings_ (Volume IX, page 330).
4. _Beowulf and Grendel_ (Volume III, page 350).
5. _Chevy Chase_ (Volume IV, page 312).
6. _Frithiof the Bold_ (Volume III, page 394).
7. The myths of the Northland, viz.: _How the Wolf Was Bound_ (Volume
II, page 91); _The Death of Balder_ (Volume II, page 99); _The
Punishment of Loki_ (Volume II, page 111); and part of _Stories of
the Creation_ (Volume IV, page 159).
8. _A Norse Lullaby_ (Volume I, page 246).
9. _The Tournament_ (Volume VI, page 38).
10. _The Skeleton in Armor_ (Volume V, page 327).
It will be noticed that while this outline is given for use with young
children, it easily may be adapted to the use of older ones and may lead
into a wide course in historical reading.
The textbook in history is necessarily brief and really little more than
an outline of events. In many instances the book gives too much space to
battles, sieges and military movements and too little to the conditions
of life, to manners, customs and causes and effects of events. Yet the
textbook is a valuable guide and enables anyone to present the subject
logically and to systematize what is learned, if nothing more.
What a wide range of subjects is covered in the study of history! What
abundance of material for study is required! Dates must be learned and
events arranged chronologically; maps must be studied, fixed in mind and
made of real value by a comprehension of the things they are supposed to
represent; military events must be understood in relation to the causes
that lead to them and the results that follow. Some few battles or
campaigns must be made vivid enough to give an idea of the expense, the
labor, the suffering and the horrors involved in war; government,
educational and religious institutions, religious and social customs and
financial methods must be studied; industries and amusements, the lives
of the people, food and food supplies, the production of clothing and
building material must be examined; in fact, each one of the multiform
interests of humanity may be a fair topic for study at some time in the
history class.
Methods of instruction must be as varied as the subject-matter.
Sometimes drill is necessary to fix facts; again it is necessary to
encourage the observation and study of persons, things and events about
us; a third time, wide research and extensive reading are demanded;
again, the feelings must be aroused, sentiment and enthusiasm
encouraged, patriotism taught.
There is material for many of these exercises in _Journeys Through
Bookland_.
As a type of study for the military campaign, we might take Burgoyne's
campaign in the Revolution. From the textbook we may learn certain facts
and encourage the pupils to group them as follows:
_Burgoyne's Campaign._
1. Conditions prior thereto:
_a._ The British occupied only New York and Newport.
_b._ They understood the natural highway that existed along Lake
Champlain and the Hudson River from the Saint Lawrence River to
New York.
_c._ They resolved to establish a line of military posts along this
highway.
2. Plan of Campaign:
_a._ General Burgoyne was sent to Canada with 4,000 British regulars
and 3,000 Hessians.
_b._ Canadians and Indians to the number of 1,000 joined the troops
under Burgoyne.
_c._ St. Leger was sent to Oswego to descend the Mohawk, capture
Fort Stanwix and join Burgoyne.
_d._ Burgoyne was to go through Richelieu River and Lake Champlain
by boats; thence march to New York by land.
3. American Troops in Opposition:
_a._ General St. Clair with 3,000 men at Ticonderoga.
_b._ General Schuyler with about 3,000 men on the Hudson.
4. Burgoyne's Advance:
_a._ The trip to Ticonderoga made and the Americans dislodged from
the fort.
_b._ The skirmish at Hubbardton was successful, but the Americans
were not captured, and the delay to Burgoyne enabled St. Clair
to join Schuyler.
_c._ The march to the Hudson was full of difficulties and
discouragements:
(1) Obstructed roads; destroyed bridges.
(2) Inadequate supplies.
(3) Deserting Indians.
(4) Leaving a third of his troops at Ticonderoga.
_d._ The Expedition against Bennington:
(1) Colonel Baum sent to take supplies from the Americans there.
(2) Met General Stark with a force outnumbering him two or three
to one.
(3) Rain delayed battle, and British entrenched.
(4) Baum surrounded; his force captured or killed, including a
relief party under Riedesel.
_e._ St. Leger's Campaign.
(1) Unsuccessful battle at Oriskany.
(2) St. Leger retreated and disappeared from the region after a
flight induced by a ruse invented by Benedict Arnold.
5. Burgoyne's Surrender.
_a._ He attempted to cut his way through the lines of the American
troops which surrounded him.
_b._ Crossed the Hudson and met the Americans at Bemis Heights;
defeated.
_c._ Defeated at Freeman's Farm.
_d._ Surrendered October 17, 1777.
6. Effects of the Surrender.
_a._ Gave the Americans many arms and munitions of war.
_b._ Gave the Americans greater confidence in themselves and their
cause.
_c._ Caused great discouragement to the British, both at home and in
the colonies.
_d._ Established the prestige of the American cause in Europe.
_e._ Secured the assistance of France.
_f._ Probably was the most influential single campaign in the war
and largely instrumental in enabling the colonists to win.
The preceding outline is the framework for the study of one military
campaign. In a school it would be the basis for topical recitations, but
in itself it has neither interest nor vitality. The main points should
be memorized so that facts learned subsequently may be logically
arranged. When the general outline is mastered, teachers and pupils
begin to fill in details from all available sources and create in the
minds of the pupils vivid pictures of the scenes, a thorough
understanding of the course of events, and a lively realization of the
effect of this remarkable episode of a great war. At home it may be used
in a similar manner.
To further assist in this instance and to furnish a type or model for
succeeding studies, we will traverse the outline again, showing what may
be done with it and how literature may lend its aid to the study of
history. In _Journeys Through Bookland_ we have a long extract from _The
Battle of Saratoga_ by Creasy (Volume IX, page 176). This will be the
source of much of our information, and there are explanatory footnotes
of considerable value. We reproduce here only the indices of the
original outline:
1. _a_, _b_ and _c_. A good outline map of the colonies is necessary. It
must show the location of bodies of water, natural thoroughfares, cities
and forts. The map should be made for the purpose and contain no details
beyond those necessary for an understanding of this campaign. A second
map showing a strip of country from the Saint Lawrence to New York and
wide enough to include all the operations of the armies should contain
more detail and be used frequently as the study proceeds. It may be
well for each child to draw this region in outline and fill in the
details as his study proceeds. Read page 177, Volume IX.
2. _a_, _b_, _c_ and _d_. Read pages 180-182, Volume IX.
3. _a_ and _b_. Pages 182-183, Volume IX.
4. _a_ and _b_. Pages 181-182, Volume IX. The quotation from Burke,
Volume IX, pages 183 and 184, and the following paragraph are
interesting accounts of the feeling in England and America over the
apparent successes of Burgoyne.
_c._ The causes of the increased efficiency of the Americans and the
bitterness with which the British were regarded by the colonists is
explained on pages 184 and 185 of Volume IX.
Something of the nature of the Indian allies may be gained from the
story, _An Exciting Canoe Race_ (Volume VII, page 79).
A stirring poem, to be read in this connection, is _The Old
Continentals_ (Volume VII, page 175).
5. _a_, _b_, _c_ and _d_. The final days of the campaign and the
surrender are described on pages 193-200, Volume IX. In using this,
bring out the following points not made in the original outline:
The near approach of Clinton and the message from him. What must
Burgoyne have felt when he received the message! Put human interest into
the tale.
The character of Burgoyne, Gates and Arnold, as shown by their acts.
The Germans (Hessians) in the campaign.
The burial of General Frazer.
The condition of the British troops when they surrendered.
The terms of surrender.
Gates's message to Congress.
6. _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ and _e_. See, in this connection, pages 198 and
199 of Volume IX.
_The Soldier's Dream_ (Volume VII, page 170) is a good poem to read for
the purpose of exciting sympathy for the soldiers.
_The Picket Guard_ (Volume VII, page 177) is useful in a similar way,
though written in connection with another war.
_The American Flag_ (Volume V, page 396) may be used here. Did the
American soldiers carry the flag of the United States at the time of the
battle of Saratoga? If not, what flag was borne? Did the "United
Colonies" have a flag?
By consulting the tabulated list of selections useful in history classes
you may find other things of interest. Care should be taken, however,
not to cloud the main purpose of the lessons by the introduction of too
much literary matter.
* * * * *
Before leaving the subject of history and geography we urge upon those
who wish to work with children, a careful perusal of the sections
entitled _Close Reading_ in this volume.
CHAPTER XVII
JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND IN ITS RELATION TO THE HIGH SCHOOL
_Introduction_
All high school students are expected to be well grounded in good
literature. It is part of every well planned course of study and the
basis of much of the work in every year. Yet very few high schools are
able to furnish the material for every student to read, and often the
methods of instruction are inadequate to the large classes or fail in
character and execution. There is contained in _Journeys_ practically
all the real literature that is necessary for the foundation of a broad
culture, and though much of it is simple and elementary, it is no less
interesting and valuable. As a matter of fact, few high school students
have ever read the simpler classics in a manner that brought to them the
full message of the selections. Accordingly the most elementary things
are often the newest and the most valuable. The simplest of the nursery
rhymes, as may be seen by the comments and explanations given in another
part of this volume, are full of interest to high school boys and girls,
and in not a few schools form the basis of many serious lessons. The
fables, the myths and the literature of the legendary heroes are not
only interesting, but are of sufficient breadth in meaning to justify
hard work on the part of anyone who has not already mastered them. It is
a mistake to think that the simple things do not interest young men and
young women. The people who scorn the elementary literature of nursery
rhymes, fairy tales and fables are the immature boys of thirteen or
fourteen years to whom everything juvenile seems beneath their dignity
and newly acquired independence.
The reader of _Journeys_ will notice, however, that the quantity of
matter that may be called really juvenile is small in comparison with
the grand total. As a matter of fact, the selections of the last six
volumes are worthy the reading by anyone, old or young, at any time, and
to be fully appreciated they must be read with care and discrimination
by everyone. The sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth volumes are all
high-class literature for adults as well as young children and the
studies are worthy a place in any high school.
The older a person grows the more he loves the things that were a
delight to his childhood and the more keenly he realizes his loss if he
never had the opportunity to become well acquainted with the great
masterpieces that have been the comfort and inspiration of such
countless thousands of people. Men and women of judgment never criticize
the selections in _Journeys_ on the ground that they are too simple or
are childish. Good literature never dies, never loses its interest. It
lives in a day-by-day intimacy with every one of its acquaintances, and
the love for it increases year by year for everyone who will listen to
its teachings.
Doubtless some high school students will be glad to have pointed out to
them more in detail the things which are especially applicable to their
work in school and which will help them in the mastery of the subject so
that their school work will be made easier and they may raise their rank
in the eyes of their teachers and companions.
A
Nearly all of the studies in the other volumes and all of them in this
volume are of value to high school students. If they are not difficult
enough to cause work they at least suggest ways of reading that will be
valuable. In the ten volumes the studies are scattered so that young
children may not see too much of the machinery of instruction as they
read. On the other hand the high school student wants the material
systematically arranged and easy of access.
Accordingly the following arrangement of the studies in this and the
other volumes of _Journeys_ will be of assistance:
I. Studies in Character:
(1) _Cinderella_, Volume I, page 224.
(2) _The Hardy Tin Soldier_, X, 158.
(3) _Rab and His Friends_, X, 177.
II. Studies in plot:
(1) _The Snow Queen_, Volume II, page 124.
(2) _The Gold Bug_, IX, 232.
(3) _Cinderella_, X, 150.
III. Studies in description:
(1) _The King of the Golden River_, Volume II, page 405.
(2) _The Reaper's Dream_, VII, 345.
(3) _The Recovery of the Hispaniola_, VII, 352.
IV. Method of analysis:
(1) _The Gettysburg Address_, Volume IX, page 321.
(2) _Braddock's Defeat_, X, 227.
V. General studies involving several or all of the main points:
(1) _Incident of the French Camp_, Volume IV, page 174.
(2) _The Tempest_, VIII, 468. (Extensive
studies following the drama.)
(3) _The Passing of Arthur_, X, 214.
VI. Studies in rhyme, meter and melody:
(1) _The Country Squire_, Volume VI, page 474.
(2) _To My Infant Son_, VI, 478.
(3) _The Daffodils_, VII, 1.
(4) _The Old Oaken Bucket_, VII, 11.
(5) _Bannockburn_, VII, 15.
(6) _Boat Song_, VII, 17.
(7) _The Bugle Song_, X, 287.
VII. Studies in interpretation, giving various methods and considering
different phases of the subject:
(1) _Christmas in Old Time_, Volume VI, page 356.
(2) _The Recessional_, VII, 164.
(3) _The Cubes of Truth_, VII, 406.
(4) _America_, VIII, 60.
(5) _A Descent Into the Maelstrom_, VIII, 95.
(6) _Dream Children_, VIII, 335.
(7) _The Vision of Mirza_, IX, 285.
(8) _Pippa Passes_, IX, 293.
(9) _Rab and His Friends_, X, 225.
(10) _The Reaper and the Flowers_, X, 272.
(11) _Adventures in Lilliput_, V, 8.
(12) _David Crockett in the Creek War_, VIII, 37.
(13) _The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_, IX, 32.
(14) _A Christmas Carol_, VI, 244.
VIII. Biographical sketches of authors, suitable for class use:
(1) _Robert Louis Stevenson_, Volume I, page 128.
(2) _Eugene Field_, I, 242.
(3) _Aesop_, II, 1.
(4) _Hans Christian Andersen_, II, 81.
(5) _Henry W. Longfellow_, IV, 62.
(6) _Alice and Phoebe Gary_, IV, 116.
(7) _Nathaniel Hawthorne_, IV, 180.
(8) _Jonathan Swift_, V, 1.
(9) _Sir Walter Scott_, VI, 26.
(10) _John Howard Payne_, VI, 221.
(11) _John Greenleaf Whittier_, VII, 381.
(12) _William Cullen Bryant_, VII, 391.
(13) _Oliver Wendell Holmes_, VII, 398.
(14) _James Russell Lowell_, VII, 411.
(15) _Elizabeth Barrett Browning_, VII, 419.
(16) _Washington Irving_, VIII, 216.
(17) _Charles and Mary Lamb_, VIII, 328.
(18) _William Shakespeare_, VIII, 468.
B
The assistance that literature may give in reading, language, nature
study, history and geography is set forth at length in other chapters of
this volume, and the high school student is earnestly requested to
examine those chapters carefully and utilize whatever appeals to him in
his studies. Especially are the chapters on reading and language
valuable. Usually the greater part of the criticisms passed upon high
school work is aimed against weaknesses in English. No small portion of
this criticism is just, and it comes to a considerable extent from the
fact that theme work is usually assigned on subjects so abstruse and so
far beyond the ready appreciation of the student that the youthful
writer is more concerned in finding out what he is to write than in
thinking how he shall write. The result is a carelessness that brings
errors in construction and an entire lack of clearness and elegance in
expression. Even the older pupils can learn more from writing upon
simple subjects where the material is easily obtained and is in itself
interesting than from the usual difficult and uninteresting subjects.
The close analysis of a masterpiece gives fine models of expression and
furnishes the best of material for discussion. The use of capital
letters and punctuation marks, spelling and the choice of words are all
subjects for study and are all learned best from good models, such as
are found in the masterpieces of literature. Students will soon learn
that the rules of grammar are not always so hard and fast as they appear
and that the practice of authors and publishers varies in minor things,
especially in the use of commas and capital letters.
Some studies of special interest that may be based upon the masterpieces
in _Journeys_ will be given below. Many of the stories, poems and essays
are accompanied by notes, queries and comments that will assist in
making the studies profitable. Several good lessons may be derived from
each topic and may be pursued at greater length by research in the
volumes of reference in the school or public library.
Look in the Index of the tenth volume for the following topics and then
find in the proper volumes the several selections named in the Index:
I. _Ballads._ Eight of the old English ballads and five more modern
imitations are given. They are virile poems; simple, direct narratives.
The old ones show the peculiarities of the old style English diction
before poetry had been refined, while the later ones, breathing still
the fire and originality of the earlier, are more polished and show the
greater skill and accomplishments of the poets. The old ballads sprang
spontaneously from the race, and doubtless many minds contributed to
their phraseology, for they were sung and recited and passed on from
mouth to mouth for generations before they were fixed in their present
form.
II. _Essays._ In the list of essays (fourteen) are some of the most
exquisite ever written and others that are full of information and
inspiration. _Dream Children_ is a perfect prose lyric; _Some Children's
Books of the Past_ is an extremely interesting essay of the
informational class. Besides the essays listed in the Index there are
other selections in essay form that may be studied with profit. Here are
some of them:
1. _Abraham Lincoln_, Volume IX, page 324.
2. _The Arickara Indians_, IV, 472.
3. _The Buffalo_, VII, 96.
4. _Alfred the Great_, IV, 260.
5. _The Battle of Cressy_, IX, 161.
6. _The Battle of Hastings_, IX, 330.
7. _A Bed of Nettles_, VIII, 209.
8. _Brute Neighbors_, VII, 260.
9. _The Buccaneers_, V, 359.
10. _Stories of the Creation_, IV, 159.
11. _Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_, VII, 306.
III. _Fables._ The names of more than thirty fables are given in the
list. Comparative study of these fables, considering the animals most
frequently mentioned, the correctness and naturalness of the traits
ascribed to the different animals, the moral precepts inculcated by the
fables, etc., will be found interesting and profitable.
IV. _Fairy Lore and Folk Lore._ Though fairy stories may have lost their
intrinsic interest for high school students, the teacher will find in
the collection given here the material for many a study. What merits
keep the old stories alive and make them perennially fascinating to
children of all nations? Which stories are the better for children,
those of Hans Christian Andersen or those of the Brothers Grimm? What
are the particular merits or demerits of each class? How do the stories
by the latter writers compare in originality and beauty with the older
stories? What comparisons can be made between _The Ugly Duckling_ and
_The King of the Golden River_? What merits has _Cinderella_ over
_Bluebeard_? What is the effect of _Jack the Giant Killer_ and stories
of that kind on the minds of young people?
V. _Fiction._ Look under the subtitles for the long list of stories
suitable for study when the class is dealing with fiction.
VI. _Legendary Heroes._ What can be more interesting than a study of
these characters from the borderland of history? These great figures
come forth from the shadows of the past and move before us like living
men: Beowulf, the Saxon; Frithiof, the Norse hero; Siegfried, the
German; Roland, the French knight; The Cid, Spain's greatest warrior and
gentleman; Hector and Ulysses, the Greeks; King Arthur and his knights
from England; Horatius, the Roman, and Sohrab, the Persian.
The literature of the Arthurian legends as given in _Journeys_, where
they cover about 150 pages, is a cycle of great importance to every high
school student. The selections concerning Arthur form a series of
narratives which, though from different sources, give a vivid picture of
the great knight and his times. The cycle is in volume V and the titles
are:
_a._ _Arthur Made King_, page 117.
_b._ _Arthur Weds Guenevere; The Round Table_, page 119.
_c._ _Arthur and Pellinore_, page 122.
_d._ _Arthur Gets Excalibur_, page 127.
_e._ _Balin and Balan_, page 130. (The stories given so far were
written expressly for _Journeys_, but all have followed rather
closely the relation of Malory.)
_f._ _Geraint and Enid_, page 148. (This is one of the most popular of
Tennyson's _Idyls of the King_. The poem is given complete.)
_g._ _The Holy Grail_, page 207.
(1) _The Knighting of Sir Galahad_, page 208.
(2) _The Marvelous Sword_, page 209.
(3) _Galahad and the Siege Perilous_, page 212.
(4) _Galahad draws the Sword of Balin Le Savage_, page 213.
(5) _The Holy Grail Appears_, page 214.
(6) _Galahad Gets His Shield_, page 217.
(7) _The Grail Achieved_, page 222. (The story of the search for
the Holy Grail, which is taken from the narrative of Sir Thomas
Malory, retains his quaint and charming style. The only
material changes are in paragraphing and the use of quotation
marks.)
_h._ _Dissensions at King Arthur's Court_, page 232. (This was written
for _Journeys_, to cover the interval between the achievement of
the Grail by Sir Galahad and the death of Arthur.)
_i._ _The Passing of Arthur_, page 237. (This is Tennyson's beautiful
poem given in full. It describes the last days of Arthur's reign
and the strange story of his death.)
VII. _Lyrics._ This topic gives the titles of about fifty beautiful
lyrics.
VIII. _Myths._ Twelve titles showing stories from the mythology of
different nations. Many of the articles have explanatory comments and,
though stories and notes are intended primarily for young children, the
whole offers a good introduction to a more extended study of mythology.
IX. _Don Quixote._ The five adventures related give a good idea of the
nature of the book and are sufficient for reference when the history
class is studying chivalry.
X. _Odes._ These seven of our finest odes will please the class in
literature.
XI. _Poetry._ Look up the sub-titles for names of poems.
XII. _Wit and Humor._ It is not always easy to find what is wanted for
class study under this head. The selections given are amusing, but at
the same time most of them have real literary value, as well, and are
worth study.
CHAPTER XVIII
RECITATIONS AND SPECIAL DAYS IN SCHOOL
Whoever has had charge of young children who are in attendance at school
has been many, many times worried in trying to answer for them the
oft-repeated request "Where shall I find a piece to speak?" Every volume
of _Journeys Through Bookland_ has a large number of selections suitable
for this purpose. All of them may be found readily by consulting the
Index at the end of the tenth volume, when the name is known or the
nature of the selection is understood, or by examining the table of
contents at the beginning of each volume when no intimation of title or
subject has been given.
It has become customary in most schools to observe with appropriate
exercises certain notable days. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Memorial Day,
Flag Day, Arbor Day, and Bird Day have their own peculiar functions and
for each there is a different style of observance. Recitations, songs,
readings, stories, help to make up the programs, and upon the parent
often falls most of the burden in selecting material. In many states the
Department of Education issues beautiful circulars on some of these
special days, and from them the teacher draws some of her material and
forms her program for the occasion. Yet when the one or two days for
which material has been provided have passed there come a number of
others which make their demands. Besides those mentioned, there are the
birthdays of our great patriots and literary men and the general
exercises at other times for which no special provision has been made.
For the busy parent, teacher or pupil, _Journeys Through Bookland_
provides an almost inexhaustible supply of excellent things, most of
which may be found readily through the Index. Moreover, the selections
are from the best literature for children, from that which they should
know, so that the tired and harrassed mother need not worry for fear
that the children are filling their minds with useless things.
It does not seem worth while to give long lists of selections
appropriate to special days, as things are well classified in the Index
in the tenth volume. Yet to show more fully how _Journeys Through
Bookland_ may be used, the following suggestions are offered:
I. BIRD DAY. Besides many other selections that are usable in different
grades, the following seem peculiarly appropriate:
1. _The Fox and the Crow_, Volume I, page 64. (This and the other
fables mentioned below may be repeated as given or, better, may be
told by a pupil in his own words.)
2. _The Fox and the Stork_, I, 73.
3. _The Wolf and the Crane_, I, 96.
4. _The Lark and Her Young Ones_, I, 131.
5. _The Brown Thrush_, I, 147.
6. _The Owl and the Pussy-cat_, I, 339.
7. _Minerva and the Owl_, II, 7.
8. _The Sparrow and the Eagle_, II, 8.
9. _Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_ II, 399.
10. _The Barefoot Boy_, IV, 3.
11. _Ode to a Skylark_, VII, 275.
12. (See also the lists of articles relating to birds, given under the
section devoted to _Nature Study_ in this volume.)
II. MEMORIAL DAY. A few of the selections suitable for this occasion are
the following:
1. _Sheridan's Ride_, Volume IV, page 223.
2. _The American Flag_, V, 396.
3. _"Stonewall" Jackson's Way_, V, 400.
4. _Breathes There the Man_, VII, 151.
5. _For A' That and A' That_, VII, 149.
6. _How Sleep the Brave_, VII, 151.
7. _The Picket Guard_, VII, 177.
8. _The Gettysburg Address_, IX, 321.
9. _Abraham Lincoln_, IX, 324.
10. (See also in the Index the titles under the words _Patriotism_
and _History_.)
III. CHRISTMAS. There are at least three selections dealing specifically
with Christmas, while many others are appropriate to the time:
1. _A Visit from St. Nicholas_, Volume II, page 202.
2. _A Christmas Carol_, VI, 244. (This may be made the basis of a very
interesting afternoon. Parts of the story may be told briefly,
parts may be read in full, parts recited and parts given as a
dialogue. Thus the spirit of Christmas cheer and good will that
animates this beautiful story may be communicated to the pupils in
the pleasantest of ways and one that will be remembered.)
3. _Christmas in the Old Time_, VI, page 356.
IV. BIRTHDAYS. In the Index will be found the names of a number of great
men and women of whom there are biographical sketches and from whose
writings quotations have been made. Each of these may be made the
subject of a general exercise at an appropriate time.
V. DRAMATIZATION. Many a poem or story may be put into dramatic form
with very little effort and thus furnish an exercise for several pupils
at the same time. The descriptive parts may be read by a pupil not in
the dialogue or may be omitted. In the latter case, acting may fill the
void or the narrative may be made into conversation between the
characters. Some rearrangement may be necessary and a little change in
phraseology may be needed. Such adaptations the pupils may make
themselves. The following scenes may be used by pupils of different
ages:
1. The description of the attack as given by Rebecca to Ivanhoe. (See
_The Attack on the Castle_, Volume IV, pages 324 to 338.) By costumes
and good acting this may be made a very effective scene.
2. A few boys will enjoy rendering the conversational parts of _The
Heart of Bruce_ (Volume V, page 316) while a girl reads the descriptive
lines of the ballad.
3. By making some changes in the text and putting into direct discourse
some of that which Dickens has written in indirect discourse, a capital
Christmas sketch may be made from the Christmas doings at the Cratchit
home. (See _A Christmas Carol_, Volume VI, pages 303 to 312.)
4. _Limestone Broth_ (Volume VI, page 467) can be made into a neat
little humorous dialogue with very little change.
5. Several scenes from _The Tempest_ (Volume VIII, page 364) are
suitable for school use.
6. _The Death of Caesar_ (Volume IX, page 143) is a fine dialogue and
affords a good opportunity for many speakers.
7. The conversation between Luigi and his mother (_Pippa Passes_, Volume
IX, pages 317-323) is a fine scene for school use, especially if Pippa
really passes singing at the right moment.
VI. AN OLD-FASHIONED AFTERNOON. Not so many years ago it was an almost
universal custom to give over Friday afternoon to the "speaking of
pieces." Occasionally even now a teacher wants one of the old-fashioned
mixed programs, and though she will prefer to make her own for each
occasion, the following example will show one of the many that might be
made from _Journeys Through Bookland_:
1. _Roll Call._ (Pupils respond with a memory gem from the hundred
given elsewhere in this volume.)
2. Song: _America_, Volume VIII, page 60.
3. _Wynken, Blynken and Nod_, I, 262.
4. _The Discontented Stonecutter_, II, 12.
5. Song: _Sweet and Low_, VI, 122.
6. _Beowulf and Grendel_ (retold in brief), III, 350.
7. _Incident of the French Camp_, IV, 174.
8. Song: _My Old Kentucky Home_, VII, 179.
9. _Echo_, III, 286. (Let the answers of Echo be given by someone who
is concealed from view of the audience.)
10. _The First Snowfall_, II, 403.
11. Song: _Home, Sweet Home_, VI, 221.
CHAPTER XIX
HANDY LIST OF STUDIES IN JOURNEYS THROUGH BOOKLAND
The following list gives the names of those selections upon which the
more important studies have been based. Here, they are arranged in the
order in which the selections appear in the several volumes. When a
study accompanies a selection, the reference given is that upon which
the selection begins. However, as in a number of instances where studies
are in one place while the selections are in another, the cross
references are given more in detail, and a statement is made as to just
what points in the selection are covered by the studies--whether these
latter are character studies, scene studies, word studies, studies of
figures or historical studies.
Probably not a few of the readers of _Journeys_ will be glad to use the
studies continuously, or will frequently want to know if some given
selection in the volume has been treated. This question is easily
answered by referring to this chapter, finding the volume in which the
selection occurs, and then running down the numbers at the right of the
page. This method will be more expeditious than running over the titles
of the selections, though of course the latter may be followed.
Reference should also be had to the General Index, under _Studies_.
VOLUME ONE
PAGE
_Down Tumbled Wheelbarrow_ 46
(See Study of Picture--Volume X, page 58)
_The Dog and His Shadow_ 63
(See Study on Scene--Volume X, page 164)
_The Fox and the Crow_ 64
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 187)
_The Hare and the Tortoise_ 71
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 185)
_The Fox and the Stork_ 73
(See Study on Scene--Volume X, page 166)
_The Rock-a-By Lady_ 94
_The Wind and the Sun_ 95
(See Lesson in Language--Volume X, page 357)
_My Bed is a Boat_ 126
(See Study of Picture--Volume X, page 52)
_Little Blue Pigeon_ 133
_The Land of Counterpane_ 144
_The Brown Thrush_ 147
(See Study--Volume X, page 276)
_The Hardy Tin Soldier_ 148
(See Character Study--Volume X, page 158)
_Jack and the Beanstalk_ 156
(See Study of Picture--Vol. X, page 52)
_The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse_ 199
_Old Gaelic Lullaby_ 203
_Cinderella_ 224
(See Character Study--Volume I, page 238)
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 150)
_Wynken, Blynken and Nod_ 262
(See Study of Picture--Volume X, page 53)
_The Twin Brothers_ 264
_Industry and Sloth_ 300
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 229)
_The Drummer_ 303
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 193)
_Keepsake Mill_ 349
_"Something"_ 395
_The Fairies_ 405
_The Reaper and the Flowers_ 410
(See Study--Volume X, page 272)
_The Ugly Duckling_ 414
VOLUME TWO
_The Golden Touch_ 43
_The Child's World_ 66
(See Study--Volume X, page 277)
_The Fir Tree_ 68
(See Study of Picture, _The Swallow and the Stork
Came_--Volume X, page 55)
(See Study in _The Lesson and the Author's Purpose_--Volume
X, page 173)
_Picture Books in Winter_ 87
_Seven Times One_ 119
(See Study--Volume X, page 278)
_Shuffle-Shoon and Amber Locks_ 121
(See Study of Picture--Volume X, page 54)
_The Snow Queen_ 124
(See Study on _The Plot_--Volume II, page 169)
_A Visit from Saint Nicholas_ 202
(See Study in Figures--Volume X, page 270)
_Tom, the Water Baby_ 215
(See Study of Picture, _Tom and the Dragon Fly_--Volume X,
page 55)
(See Nature Study Lesson--Volume X, page 381)
_The Milkmaid_ 374
_Holger Danske_ 377
_The Fairies of Caldon-Low_ 395
(See Story Told--Volume X, page 68)
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_ 399
(See Character Study--Volume X, page 95)
_The First Snowfall_ 403
(See Study in Figures--Volume X, page 270)
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 281)
_King of the Golden River_ 405
(See Study--Volume II, page 441)
(See Study in Description--Volume X, page 366)
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 393)
_The Potato_ 467
(See Study--Volume X, page 285)
_The Queen of the Underworld_ 468
_Origin of the Opal_ 480
(See Study--Volume X, page 285)
_In Time's Swing_ 481
_Why the Sea Is Salt_ 484
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 231)
VOLUME THREE
_Robinson Crusoe_ 45
(See Nature Study--Volume X, page 382)
_Faithless Sally Brown_ 92
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 232)
_Swiss Family Robinson_ 99
(See Nature Study--Volume X, page 382)
_Cupid and Psyche_ 365
_Frithiof The Bold_ 394
_Lochinvar_ 432
_Robin Hood and the Stranger_ 444
(See Study in Narration--Volume X, page 363)
VOLUME FOUR
_The Barefoot Boy_ 3
(See Study--Volume X, page 286)
_Cid Campeador_ 9
(See Study in Exposition--Volume X, page 368)
_To H. W. L._ 84
_The Village Blacksmith_ 86
_The Definition of a Gentleman_ 170
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 234)
_Incident of the French Camp_ 174
_The Boston Massacre_ 217
(See Study in Argument--Volume X, page 370)
_Alfred the Great_ 260
(See Study in History--Volume X, page 414)
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_ 461
(See Story Told--Volume X, page 71)
VOLUME FIVE
_Gulliver's Travels_ 6
(See Study in _Close Reading_ on _Adventures in
Lilliput_--Volume X, page 235)
_Ballad of Agincourt_ 95
(See Story Told--Volume X, page 74)
_Lead, Kindly Light_ 110
(See Study--Volume X, page 98)
_Geraint and Enid_ 148
(See Study of Picture, _Geraint hears Enid Singing_--Volume X,
page 60)
_The Passing of Arthur_ 237
(See Complete Study--Volume X, page 214)
_The Heart of Bruce_ 316
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 238)
_How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_ 335
_Reminiscences of a Pioneer_ 340
(See Study--Volume X, page 119)
_Braddock's Defeat_ 379
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 227)
_The American Flag_ 396
VOLUME SIX
_Rab and His Friends_ 99
(See Study in Emotional Power--Volume X, page 177)
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 225)
_Annie Laurie_ 119
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 243)
_Sweet and Low_ 122
_The Bugle Song_ 133
(See Study--Volume X, page 287)
_A Christmas Carol_ 244
(See Study in Scene--Volume X, page 168)
(See Study of Picture, _Bob and Tiny Tim_--Volume X, page 41)
_Christmas in Old Time_ 356
_Poor Richard's Almanac_ 407
(See Study in Character Building--Volume X, page 101)
_The Country Squire_ 474
_To My Infant Son_ 478
VOLUME SEVEN
_The Daffodils_ 1
_The Old Oaken Bucket_ 11
_Bannockburn_ 15
_Boat Song_ 17
_The Petrified Fern_ 77
(See Study--Volume X, page 291)
_An Exciting Canoe Race_ 79
(See Study in Forms of Expression--Volume X, page 376)
_The Recessional_ 164
_The Forsaken Merman_ 180
(See Study--Volume X, page 295)
_Tom and Maggie Tulliver_ 186
_The Cloud_ 257
(See Study--Volume X, page 301)
_Brute Neighbors_ 260
(See Study--Volume X, page 383)
_Ode to a Skylark_ 275
(See Study in Figures--Volume X, page 268)
_The Pond in Winter_ 280
(See Nature Study--Volume X, page 383)
_Winter Animals_ 293
(See Study--Volume X, page 383)
_Trees and Ants that Help Each Other_ 306
(See Study--Volume X, page 385)
_My Mother's Picture_ 335
(See Study in Description--Volume X, page 367)
_The Reaper's Dream_ 345
_The Recovery of the Hispaniola_ 352
_The Cubes of Truth_ 406
_The Lost Child_ 409
(See Study in _Close Reading_--Volume X, page 243)
VOLUME EIGHT
_David Crockett in the Creek War_ 37
(See Study--Volume X, page 244)
_America_ 60
_A Descent into the Maelstrom_ 95
_Hervé Riel_ 168
(See Story Told--Volume X, page 78)
_Dream Children_ 335
_Reading Shakespeare_ 346
_The Tempest_ 364
VOLUME NINE
_The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_ 32
(See Study--Volume X, page 248)
From _The Death of Caesar_ 143
(See Study--Volume X, page 253)
_Battle of Saratoga_ 176
(See Study in History--Volume X, page 419)
_The Gold Bug_ 232
(See Study--Volume IX, page 283)
_The Vision of Mirza_ 285
(See Study in Notes)
_Pippa Passes_ 293
(See Study--Volume IX, page 316)
_The Gettysburg Address_ 321
_Of Expense_ 397
_Robert of Lincoln_ 444
_The Chambered Nautilus_ 454
_Ode to a Grecian Urn_ 462
_The Fate of the Indians_ 466
_A Call to Arms_ 475
CHAPTER XX
SUPPLEMENTARY BOOK LISTS
If _Journeys Through Bookland_ is read as we intend, it will occupy no
inconsiderable part of the time boys and girls give to reading. Yet
there will be a call for more books. Some selections from great authors
will create a taste for more from the same writers, and certain pieces
will suggest lines of reading that may profitably extend far beyond the
limits of the present volumes. In fact, this series is meant to be the
stimulus to a lifetime of reading. Some children are naturally readers,
and will require more to satisfy their avid tastes than may be
sufficient for their brothers and sisters, while other children may need
to be helped even beyond the limits covered by our plans. It may be that
some parents will feel uncertain what advice to give their boys and
girls when asked about other books than those indicated in the text. For
such the following lists have been prepared.
At the present day, good libraries are to be found in almost every town,
and either from the school or the town library may be drawn most of the
books mentioned. Books are always good presents, and from these lists
parents who have watched the development of their children's tastes will
find helpful hints in the selection of presents that will be accepted
with joy and read with continued pleasure.
The training these plans for reading have given will excite interest in
the great classics which the quantities of light, frivolous stories
carelessly written for children have in a measure relegated to the
background. These classics are the foundation of literature, and without
a knowledge of them, best obtained in youth, genuine culture seems
almost impossible.
In presenting the lists it has seemed best to make some of them parallel
to the volumes of this work rather than to arrange them by the ages of
the children or their grades in school. The power to read intelligently
and with appreciation is not wholly dependent upon age, nor does rank in
school show the capability of the young person. Some boys of twelve will
read and enjoy things that others of sixteen will find almost
impossible. Not infrequently a little "sixth-grader" reads better
literature than many a high school student. Other lists for older boys
and girls are classified according to subject-matter. The method in
every case is obvious.
This series is for boys and girls of all ages; for girls as much as for
boys. Good literature appeals to universal taste, and there is little
question of sex in it. There was a time when girls were thought so
different from boys that "girls' books" were written in abundance. Now
that girls are given the same education that boys have, they usually
like the same things. There will be found nearly as great extremes of
taste in one sex as in the other during those years to which this set is
adapted. Whatever difference there is in the sexes will manifest itself
in what each selects for his or her own from the masterpiece that both
read. That we get from our reading what we put into it, is as true of us
when we are young as it is when we have grown older. To as great an
extent as Alice is different from Fred will what she gets from reading
_Rab and His Friends_ differ from what he absorbs.
In the books of this series the love story has little place, and into it
sex problems do not enter. Its readers have not reached an age when such
things are of serious moment, and there is enough good literature for
them without dragging in or even admitting stories of passion and those
that make their strongest appeal to the attraction of one sex for
another. However, there is an abundance of sentiment, and the home
feelings are recognized again and again; the love of parents for each
other and for their offspring, the love of brother and sister,
friendship, the pure affection of young people, love of home, of God, of
country, all are subjects of the finest selections the language
contains. Such are to be found in abundance.
In the lists more latitude has been allowed, and while nothing has been
included that may excite anything but the purest emotions, yet room has
been made for many of the great novels that are real studies of the
lives and characters of adults. These books, really written for older
people, will have their message for the young, a message that will be
amplified and perhaps changed entirely, when, after many years, the book
is read again with no lessened interest. _Les Miserables_ was read once
by a young boy whose attention was caught and held so strongly by the
exciting story that he held himself through all the long, prosy
meanderings with which Hugo has delayed the march of his plot. Some
years later the same boy, grown to a college student, read _Les
Miserables_ again with even greater interest. He remembered the story
quite well, but the prosy meanderings had to his broadened intelligence
become wonderful pictures of life, and even the book-long description of
the Battle of Waterloo was fascinating, though its only function in the
story was to say that one man saved another man's life. The boy, now a
man in middle life, read Hugo's masterpiece a third time. Story and
description were now secondary in interest, but the author's deep
insight into human nature, his brilliant style and shrewd, kindly
philosophy held the old reader more closely than had anything before. So
will it be with many of the books in the list. If we are to make
friends, let us meet them as early as we can, see them as often as we
can, and cling to them as long as we can.
In recommending books to children, parents will do well to remember that
books in which young people are not interested will not be read in such
a way as to be profitable. The books in these lists are all interesting
in themselves, and there need be no fear that they will not be read. The
child who has been trained after the manner indicated in these talks
will need little further assistance in mastering these books.
[Illustration: CHARLES KINGSLEY
THOMAS MOORE
JOHN TYNDALL
ALEXANDER POPE
THOMAS CAMPBELL
DAVID LIVINGSTONE
GEORGE MACDONALD]
_Volume I_
ÆSOP'S FABLES.
There are many good editions published by the various schoolbook
houses. That edited by J. H. Stickney and published by Ginn &
Co. is as good as any, and contains also a supplement with
fables from La Fontaine and Krilof.
A CHILD'S GARDEN OF VERSES, by _Robert Louis Stevenson_.
The edition illustrated by E. Mars and H. M. Squire and
published by Rand, McNally & Co. is excellent. Jessie Wilcox
Smith illustrates an edition for Charles Scribner's Sons.
LULLABY LAND, by _Eugene Field_.
This is published in beautiful form by Charles Scribner's Sons.
FAIRY TALES, by _Hans Christian Andersen_.
The schoolbook houses publish selections in an attractive form;
Blackie and Son, London, a cheap edition.
FAIRY TALES, by _Wilhelm_ and _Jakob Grimm_.
Selections, such as those edited by Sarah E. Wiltse for Ginn &
Co., are better than the complete editions, for many of the
Grimm tales are coarse and valueless.
BLUE FAIRY BOOK and GREEN FAIRY BOOK, by _Andrew Lang_.
Besides some of the Grimm tales these books contain folklore
stories from many nations. Lang has edited other books in this
series, but two are probably enough.
THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE, by _Dinah Maria (Mulock) Craik_.
This is a charming little tale, much loved by children.
PINOCCHIO, by _C. Collodi_.
Walter Cramp's translation of this little Italian classic will
be highly appreciated. Ginn and Company.
OLD GREEK STORIES, by _James Baldwin_.
American Book Company. This contains the stories of Arachne, the
Gorgon's Head, Prometheus and Theseus.
LETTERS FROM A CAT, by _Helen Hunt Jackson_.
Amusing letters which a cat writes to its mistress. Helpful in
teaching kindness to animals.
THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN, by _James Whitcomb Riley_.
Charles Scribner's Sons; _Child Rhymes_, Bobbs-Merrill Co.;
_Child World_, Bobbs-Merrill Co. Three books with delightful
poems for children and about them.
_Volume II_
While the books mentioned in these lists seem most closely connected to
the volume to which they are ascribed, yet no hard and fast lines can be
drawn. Children will read in the second volume of this set before they
have finished the first, and the books in the lists are suitable
whenever interest is ripe in the kind of literature which the books
contain. Several of the titles given in the list for the first volume
should be considered with the second volume.
WONDER BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, by _Nathaniel Hawthorne_.
This contains many other stories than those given in these
volumes.
TANGLEWOOD TALES, by _Nathaniel Hawthorne_.
A second wonder book of classic myths. Houghton, Mifflin Co. are
the authorized publishers of the wonder books.
THE HEROES, OR GREEK FAIRY TALES, by _Charles Kingsley_.
Published by E. P. Dutton & Co., with pictures by Rose Le
Quesne.
THREE FAIRY TALES, by _Jean Ingelow_.
Illustrated by A. J. Ripley. D. C. Heath & Co.
THE STORY OF ÆNEAS, by _Michael Clarke_.
American Book Company. Fine illustrations. This contains the
story of the _Aeneid_ for young American readers.
THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE, _by Dinah Maria (Mulock) Craik_.
D. C. Heath & Co. An allegorical fairy tale of great beauty,
teaching the lesson of patience and true manhood.
LITTLE MR. THIMBLEFINGER AND HIS QUEER COUNTRY, by _Joel Chandler
Harris_.
Illustrations by Oliver Herford. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
MR. RABBIT AT HOME, by _Joel Chandler Harris_.
A sequel to _Little Mr. Thimblefinger_.
NONSENSE SONGS AND STORIES, by _Edward Lear_.
F. Warne & Co.
COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS of _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_.
This is one of the books that every family ought to own, there
is so much in it for every age. Besides the lyrics children love
so well, there are _Hiawatha_, _Evangeline_, _Miles Standish_
and other poems, which belong to children as well as to the
adults. The Cambridge edition published by Houghton, Mifflin Co.
is a cheap, serviceable book, though the print is necessarily
rather small.
THE WONDERFUL CHAIR AND THE TALES IT TOLD, by _Frances R.
Browne_.
D. C. Heath & Co.
THE BLUE BIRD FOR CHILDREN, by _Maurice Maeterlinck_.
The story of the play, beautifully told. Silver, Burdett & Co.
THE JUNGLE BOOK, by _Rudyard Kipling_.
The hero is a child brought up among the wolves. A delightful
story to create interest in wild animals. The Century Company.
THE SECOND JUNGLE BOOK, by _Rudyard Kipling_.
The Century Company.
JUST SO STORIES, by _Rudyard Kipling_.
WILD ANIMALS I HAVE KNOWN, by _Ernest Thompson Seton_.
A delightful series of stories full of human interest.
_Volume III_
This volume contains selections from several books which it is felt will
be read in their entirety by most children. They are:
ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND and THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS.
Two modern fairy tales by Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge
Dodgson). The amusing pictures are by Sir John Tenniel. The
Macmillan Company. These fantastic stories delight everyone who
reads them.
ROBINSON CRUSOE, by _Daniel Defoe_.
There are many editions of this old and popular story for boys,
from an abbreviated form in words of one syllable to the
original work in full. W. H. Lambert has edited a school edition
in excellent manner for Ginn & Co.
THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON, by _Johann Rudolph Wyss_.
Though not of such literary merit as _Robinson Crusoe_, it is
similar in plot and usually more popular. Ginn & Co. publish a
good, cheap edition, edited by J. H. Stickney.
ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENT.
The complete editions are not suitable for children to read, but
the edition edited by Andrew Lang is excellent. Several
schoolbook houses publish good selections, including the most
popular tales.
Besides the books mentioned in the lists for Volumes I and II, the
following might be suggested here:
THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS of _John Greenleaf Whittier_.
Houghton, Mifflin Company's Cambridge edition is perhaps the
best. Whittier did not write as much for children as Longfellow
did, but his _Snow-Bound_ is a classic that every child will
love if he is helped a little in reading it. Other poems will
appeal to the older members of the family.
THE BOOK OF LEGENDS TOLD OVER AGAIN, by _Horace E. Scudder_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. _The Flying Dutchman_, _St. Christopher_,
_William Tell_, and _The Wandering Jew_ are some of the names.
THE ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES, by _Charles Lamb_.
D. C. Heath & Co.
NORSE STORIES RE-TOLD FROM THE SAGAS, by _Hamilton Wright Mabie_.
Rand, McNally & Co.
THE BIOGRAPHY OF A GRIZZLY, by _Ernest Thompson Seton_.
The Century Company.
SOME MERRY ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD.
Written and illustrated by Howard Pyle. Charles Scribner's Sons.
THE STORY OF ROLAND, by _James Baldwin_.
Illustrated by R. B. Birch. Charles Scribner's Sons.
THE STORY OF SIEGFRIED, by _James Baldwin_.
Illustrated by Howard Pyle. Charles Scribner's Sons.
_Volume IV_
STORY OF THE CID.
Retold by Calvin Dill Wilson. Lathrop, Lee and Shepard.
OLD INDIAN LEGENDS.
Retold graphically by Zitkala Sä, one of the tribe of the
Dakotahs, and illustrated by Angel de Cora
(Hin-ook-Mahiroi-Kilinaka), the Indian artist. Ginn & Co.
INDIAN BOYHOOD, by _Charles Eastman_, a Sioux Indian.
Full of the manners and customs of the Indians, and containing
as well some good stories of adventure. Little, Brown & Co.
GRANDFATHER'S CHAIR, by _Nathaniel Hawthorne_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. This book contains, besides the stories
printed in this set, many other interesting historical tales.
THE BOYS OF '76, by _Charles Carleton Coffin_.
Harper and Bros. A fine book that will interest any child in the
story of the Revolution. There are other books in a similar vein
by the same author.
THE STORY OF THE GREEKS,
THE STORY OF THE ROMANS, and
THE STORY OF THE ENGLISH
are three good books by H. A. Guerber, which will help to create
an interest in the history of those peoples and at the same time
give information valuable in reading literature. All are
published for school use by the American Book Company.
CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, by _Charles Dickens_.
This book is always interesting to children, and is such good
reading that we need not feel afraid of Dickens' inexactness and
apparent prejudices. Read it as literature, not so much as
history.
BIRDS AND BEES, SHARP EYES AND OTHER PAPERS, by _John Burroughs_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. Though this may seem rather hard reading
to some, it is delightful literature, and full of good lessons
in observation for children. Other books by the same author are
equally entertaining. An excellent book to read to children.
INDIAN DAYS OF THE LONG AGO, by _E. S. Curtis_.
World Book Co.
THE MAGIC FOREST, by _Stewart Edward White_.
Macmillan Co.
THE WORLD OF THE GREAT FOREST, by _Paul Du Chaillu_.
Harper and Bros. An interesting account of animal life, not
without some literary merit. Other books by the same author will
delight the adventurous.
SHARP EYES, and
MY STUDIO NEIGHBORS
are two beautiful books, illustrated by the author, William
Hamilton Gibson. Harper and Bros. They are as interesting and as
charmingly written as any of the multitudinous nature books.
_Volume V_
THE BOYS' KING ARTHUR, edited by _Sidney Lanier_.
Illustrated by Alfred Kappes. Charles Scribner's Sons.
THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL, by _James Russell Lowell_.
One of the finest poems in the language. Best read in connection
with the stories of King Arthur. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
THE BOYS' FROISSART.
The chronicles retold in simple English by Sidney Lanier.
Scribners.
TRAVELS OF MARCO POLO, abridged by _Thomas W. Knox_.
The touch of fiction does not injure these old tales.
LITTLE SMOKE, by _William Osborn_.
An exciting story of Sioux life.
TEN BIG INDIANS, by _Mary Hazelton Wade_.
W. A. Wilde & Co. An interesting introduction to Indian history.
HANS BRINKER; OR THE SILVER SKATES, by _Mary Mapes Dodge_.
A delightful story of child life in Holland. A valuable picture
of manners and customs.
THE HOOSIER SCHOOL BOY, by _Edward Eggleston_.
Charles Scribner's Sons. An interesting story of pioneer times.
THE PETERKIN PAPERS, by _Lucretia Peabody Hale_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. One of the few good humorous stories for
children.
TOBY TYLER, OR TEN WEEKS WITH A CIRCUS, and
MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER
are two wholesome stories full of humor and pathos. Harper and
Bros.
THE STORY OF A NÜRNBERG STOVE, by _Louise De la Ramée (Ouida)_.
Educational Publishing Company.
BETTY LEICESTER, by _Sarah Orne Jewett_.
A fine story for girls. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
THE BIRDS' CHRISTMAS CAROL, by _Kate Douglas Wiggin (Riggs)_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. A charming story which will delight
everybody. By the same author, _The Story of Patsy_, _Timothy's
Quest_ and _Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm_ are all wholesome and
entertaining.
REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM, by _Kate Douglas Wiggin_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co.
THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER, A TALE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE OF ALL AGES,
by _Mark Twain (Samuel Langhorne Clemens)_. Harper and Bros. The
story relates to England in the sixteenth century.
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY, by _Edward Everett Hale_.
Little, Brown & Co. The style and language are mature, but the
story is one of the best lessons in patriotism ever written.
_Volume VI_
TALES OF A GRANDFATHER, by _Sir Walter Scott_.
An abridged edition, published by Ginn & Co., contains the best
tales, but many children will like them all.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
An excellent book for young people on account of its interest
and its clear literary style. An edition by Houghton, Mifflin
Co., contains a sketch of Franklin's life subsequent to the time
when his autobiography ends.
LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME, by _Thomas Babington Macaulay_.
Inspiring tales in verse such as children love to hear.
_Horatius_ is among them.
IVANHOE, by _Sir Walter Scott_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. publish a cheap school edition.
THE TALISMAN, by _Sir Walter Scott_.
SCOTTISH CHIEFS, by _Jane Porter_.
This is one of the stories that young people enjoyed years ago.
It helps to the reading of Scottish history, and is a good type
of the romantic novel.
ENOCH ARDEN, by _Alfred Tennyson_.
IDYLS OF THE KING, by _Alfred Tennyson_.
THE COMPLETE POETICAL WORKS of _Oliver Wendell Holmes_.
Cambridge edition of Houghton, Mifflin Co. _The Grandmother's
Story of Bunker Hill_, _A Ballad of the Boston Tea Party_, _Ode
for Washington's Birthday_, _Old Ironsides_, _Lexington_ and
others have historical value. The humorous poems like _The
One-Hoss Shay_, _How the Old Horse Won the Bet_, and such
beautiful poems as _The Chambered Nautilus_ and _The Last Leaf_
always appeal to young folks.
THE SPY, by _James Fenimore Cooper_.
This is a thrilling story of the Revolution.
THE PILOT, by _James Fenimore Cooper_.
This also is a story of the Revolution, and it has Paul Jones as
its hero.
MEN OF IRON, by _Howard Pyle_.
Harper and Bros. The "men of iron" are Henry IV of England and
the men of his court.
THE STORY OF A BAD BOY, by _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_.
Houghton, Mifflin Co. An amusing and frank story of New England
boy life.
_Volume VII_
THE CRICKET ON THE HEARTH, by _Charles Dickens_.
This is one of the Christmas stories, and is written in the best
vein of the fascinating author.
DAVID COPPERFIELD, by _Charles Dickens_.
This is usually considered the masterpiece of the author.
A TALE OF TWO CITIES, by _Charles Dickens_.
A thrilling story of the French Revolution, rather full of
terrible happenings, and rather mature.
THE LADY OF THE LAKE, and
MARMION, by _Sir Walter Scott_,
the two best of his longer poems, rarely fail to interest young
people.
TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE, by _Charles and Mary Lamb_.
THE TEMPEST,
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, and
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE,
are the three Shakespearean plays that first interest children.
Care should be taken in the selection of the edition, as none of
the plays in their original form are suitable for children.
School editions with notes are excellent. _The Tempest_ is
printed in Volume VIII of this set, and is deferred to that
point on account of the very full notes and comments that
accompany it. The play itself may be read quite early, and
children should be encouraged to try their skill on Shakespeare
as soon as they show signs of interest.
UNDINE, by _Baron de la Motte Fouqué_,
is a beautiful fairy tale from the German, with interest for
older children than those who read Andersen and Grimm.
PLUTARCH'S LIVES.
White's _Boys' and Girls' Plutarch_ is recommended. The lives of
Brutus, Julius Cæsar, Themistocles, Pericles and Alexander are
among the more interesting.
THE BURNING OF ROME, by _A. J. Church_,
is a thrilling story of that event.
CUORE, by _Edmondo De Amicis_.
The journal of an Italian schoolboy. Useful and moral, but not
always interesting to American boys.
IN HIS NAME, by _Edward Everett Hale_.
A tale of religious persecution.
THE PEASANT AND THE PRINCE, by _Harriet Martineau_.
An intensely interesting picture of France just before the
Revolution.
PICCIOLA, by _X. B. Santine_.
A touching story whose scene is laid in France in the time of
Napoleon.
LIFE OF DANIEL BOONE, by _J. and J. C. Abbott_.
THE ILIAD, _Bryant's_ translation.
_Classified Lists_
When boys and girls can read the first seven volumes of this set
intelligently and with pleasure they are thinking for themselves. Their
tastes are forming rapidly, and they have learned how to read nearly
everything that comes to them. They know how to use reference books, and
can "make out the meaning" of difficult passages. They are reading for
information and culture. What they lack is experience in life, and so
they are unable to interpret what they read as fully as can those who
have lived longer, seen more of the world, enjoyed more, suffered more.
Where they are liable to fail and go astray is in the lack of judgment.
They know right and wrong, but they cannot always see the difference.
They are apt to be misled by their feelings and to be ruled by their
emotions.
The studies and selections of the last three volumes are varied and
highly suggestive. They will open new lines of thought and prompt to
wider reading in many directions. The contents vary in difficulty as in
character, but are not graded in a strict sense of the term. They are
meant for independent readers, readers who are governed by mood or
purpose and no longer rely upon outside guidance.
Accordingly, lists of books suitable for readers of these volumes will
cover every department of literature and lead into the reading favored
by adults. The majority of these lists deal with literature. They
contain the names of those books which are distinctly helpful, and from
which young readers may derive nothing to corrupt taste or give false
impressions of life. They are the standard books of the language. The
lists might have been longer; they do contain, however, the names of
those best books that every cultured person should know. For convenience
in reference the arrangement is the alphabetical order of authors'
names.
Fiction
AINSWORTH, WILLIAM HARRISON: _The Tower of London_, the story of
Lady Jane Grey, and the plots and intrigues that centered about
her.
ALCOTT, LOUISA M.: _Little Men_ and _Little Women_, two interesting
and thoroughly wholesome books for boys and girls.
AUSTEN, JANE: _Pride and Prejudice_, an old-fashioned story,
interesting, but liable to be called dull by those who read only
the lively stories of the day.
BLACKMORE, R. D.: _Lorna Doone_, a delightful romance, the scene of
which is laid in Exmoor, England, in the beginning of the
eighteenth century.
BULWER-LYTTON, SIR EDWARD: _The Last Days of Pompeii_, the author's
greatest novel; _The Last of the Barons_, the story of the Earl
of Warwick; _Harold, The Last of the Saxons_, a tale of the
Norman Conquest of England.
DOYLE, A. CONAN: _The White Company_, an exciting fourteenth
century story.
ELIOT, GEORGE: _Silas Marner_, an intensely human story, a heart
history; _Romola_, a thrilling story of Florence in the days of
Savonarola, a study in the degeneration of character that comes
from doing only the agreeable things in life.
GOLDSMITH, OLIVER: _The Vicar of Wakefield_, an amusing and at
times pathetic picture of English country life in the eighteenth
century.
HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL: _The Scarlet Letter_, a tale of sin and its
punishment in Puritan New England; _The Marble Faun_, an Italian
story full of the art and culture of Rome.
HUGO, VICTOR: _Les Miserables_, one of the greatest novels of the
world, but its digressions and its philosophy make it difficult
reading for the young. Interesting abridgements of it may be had
from the schoolbook houses.
SAINT PIERRE, BERNARDIN DE: _Paul and Virginia_, a pretty love
story from the French.
SCOTT, SIR WALTER: _Kenilworth_, a tale of the days of Queen
Elizabeth; _Old Mortality_, a story of the Covenanters; _Guy
Mannering_, an eighteenth century tale, with Meg Merrilies,
Dominic Sampson and others of Scott's most famous characters;
_The Heart of Midlothian_, a tale of sin and its punishment,
with a wonderful picture of a sister's love and devotion.
STOWE, HARRIET BEECHER: _Uncle Tom's Cabin_, an interesting story,
but like most books written for partisan purposes, its influence
is not now wholesome.
THACKERAY, WILLIAM MAKEPEACE: _Henry Esmond_, _Pendennis_ and _The
Newcomes_ may be read in the order named. _Vanity Fair_ is
better appreciated by adults.
TWAIN, MARK: _Tom Sawyer_ and _Huckleberry Finn_, two stories whose
fun every boy will appreciate.
WALLACE, LEW: _Ben Hur, a Tale of the Christ_. An admirable
historical novel.
Poetry and Drama
BROWNING, ROBERT: Besides the poems given in these books, _The Lost
Leader_ and _Rabbi Ben Ezra_ are enjoyed by boys and girls.
BRYANT, WILLIAM CULLEN: _The Poetical Works_ (Household Edition),
D. Appleton & Co. _The Song of Marion's Men_, _The Green
Mountain Boys_, _Thanatopsis_, _Sella_, _The Death of the
Flowers_, _The Planting of the Apple Tree_ and _Robert of
Lincoln_ are among his best poems.
SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM: _Julius Cæsar and Coriolanus_, two plays
based on Roman history and excellent for reading purposes;
_Richard II_ (1398-1399), _Henry IV_ (1402-1413), _Henry V_
(1414-1420), _Henry VI_ (1422-1471), _Richard III_ (1471-1485),
all based on English history; _As You Like It_, a great comedy;
_Hamlet_ and _King Lear_, perhaps the two greatest tragedies.
All these are excellent reading, especially in such an edition
as the _Temple Classics_. Other plays may well be read, but
everyone should know the foregoing list.
Essays
EMERSON, RALPH WALDO: _The American Scholar_, _Self-Reliance_,
_Culture_ and _Behavior_ may be read with profit by the young,
even if they do not fully understand the philosophy.
HALE, EDWARD EVERETT: _American Essays_ and _English Essays_, two
books edited by Hale. They contain selections from the writings
of George William Curtis, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Washington
Irving, James Russell Lowell, Addison, Goldsmith, Lamb and
Thackeray.
HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL: _The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table_, a
charming series of talks which embody the best of Holmes's wit,
wisdom and philosophy. One of those things everybody must read.
IRVING, WASHINGTON: _The Sketch Book_ contains such perfect stories
as _Rip Van Winkle_ and _The Legend of Sleepy Hollow_, as well
as a number of fine essays for later reading.
ROOSEVELT, THEODORE: _American Ideals and Other Essays_. Putnam.
RUSKIN, JOHN: _Sesame and Lilies_. In spite of its seeming
difficulty, this book contains some of the most inspiring words
ever spoken on books and reading.
WARNER, CHARLES DUDLEY: _A-Hunting of the Deer and Other Essays_, a
delightful little collection that young people will enjoy and
that has fine literary qualities. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
Nature
THOREAU, HENRY DAVID: _Walden_, a vivid book of outdoor life. Such
also are _A Week on the Concord and Merrimac Rivers_ and
_Excursions in Field and Forest_.
Biography
FABRE, JEAN-HENRI: _Our Humble Helpers_, familiar talks on the
domestic animals. The Century Co.
BOSWELL, JAMES: _Life of Samuel Johnson_. The first great
biography, and still the most remarkable in its intimacy. Not of
general interest to young people.
BROOKS, ELDRIDGE STREETER: _Historic Girls_. G. P. Putnam's Sons.
BROOKS, NOAH: _Life of Abraham Lincoln_. G. P. Putnam's Sons.
BURROUGHS, JOHN: _John James Audubon_. Small, Maynard & Co.
GOLDING, VAUTIER: _The Story of Henry M. Stanley_. E. P. Dutton &
Co.
HARRISON, FREDERICK: _Oliver Cromwell_. Macmillan.
IRVING, WASHINGTON: _Washington_, and _Mahomet_.
LODGE, HENRY CABOT: _Alexander Hamilton_. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
NICOLAY, JOHN G.: _Boys' Life of Abraham Lincoln_.
OBER, FREDERICK O.: _Pizarro_. Harper.
RIIS, JACOB A.: _The Making of an American_. Macmillan.
SCHURZ, CARL: _Life of Henry Clay_. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
SCUDDER, HORACE ELISHA: _George Washington_. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
TRENT, W. P.: _Robert E. Lee_.
WISTER, OWEN: _U. S. Grant_. Beacon Biography.
History
BANCROFT, GEORGE: _History of the United States_ (to the
inauguration of Washington). A voluminous history with
interesting passages, but tedious to young readers.
DRAPER, ANDREW SLOAN: _The Rescue of Cuba_. Silver, Burdett & Co.
FISKE, JOHN: _The War of Independence_. Houghton, Mifflin Co.
LODGE, HENRY CABOT, and ROOSEVELT, THEODORE: _Hero Tales from
American History_. The Century Company.
MOTLEY, JOHN LOTHROP: _The Rise of the Dutch Republic_. This, with
other histories by the same writer, is a long and brilliant
account, full of interest to the older youths who have a taste
for history.
PARKMAN, FRANCIS: _La Salle and the Northwest_, _The Conspiracy of
Pontiac_, and _Montcalm and Wolfe_ are three histories of a
brilliant series on the French explorations and colonizations in
the Northwest. Parkman is one of our finest historical writers,
and his graphic style has given many a young man a deep interest
in history.
PRESCOTT, WILLIAM HICKLING: _The Conquest of Mexico_ and _The
Conquest of Peru_ are two interesting histories of the longer
type, written in an interesting style that many youths will
enjoy. Prescott's work lies with the Spanish, as Motley's with
the Dutch and Parkman's with the French.
ROOSEVELT, THEODORE (see LODGE, HENRY CABOT).
Travel and Geography
BUTTERWORTH, HEZEKIAH: _Zig-Zag Journeys in Classic Lands_. There
are other interesting Zig-Zag Journeys by the same author.
DANA, RICHARD HENRY: _Two Years Before the Mast_.
DARWIN, CHARLES: _Voyage of a Naturalist_.
DU CHAILLU, PAUL: _The Land of the Long Night_. A winter journey
through Northern Europe.
INGERSOLL, ERNEST: _The Book of the Ocean_.
JENKS, TUDOR: _The Boy's Book of Exploration_. Deals principally
with Africa.
KNOX, THOS.: _The Boy Travelers in South America_. There are other
interesting books in the same series.
ROOSEVELT, THEODORE: _Stories of the Great West_. Century Co.
STANLEY, HENRY M.: _In Darkest Africa_.
STOCKTON, FRANK RICHARD: _Personally Conducted_. Interesting
descriptions of places in Europe.
TAYLOR, BAYARD: _Views Afoot_.
TWAIN, MARK (Samuel Langhorne Clemens): _Innocents Abroad_. An
amusing account of European travel with good descriptions.
WARNER, CHARLES DUDLEY: _My Winter on the Nile_.
Miscellaneous
The books in the following list have not been selected because of their
literary qualities, but because they contain things that are of interest
and value to young people. It is thought that parents may wish some
information concerning such books as are mentioned, and those given in
the list can be relied upon as being interesting, instructive and not
expensive. The arrangement is by title.
AMERICAN BOYS' HANDY BOOK OF CAMP LORE AND WOODCRAFT, by _Daniel
Cortes Beard_. Tells how to fish, hunt, camp, and how to make a
great variety of things.
AMERICAN GIRLS' HANDY BOOK, by _Adelia B. Beard_. Directions for
making and doing. A companion to _American Boys' Handy Book_.
AMERICAN GIRLS' HOME BOOK OF WORK AND PLAY, by _Helen Campbell_.
Outdoor and indoor games and amusements, Christmas gifts,
cooking, etc.
AMONG THE LAW MAKERS, by _Edmund Alton Bailey_. Deals with the
national Congress, largely the recollections of a former page.
BEGINNER'S GARDEN BOOK, THE, by _Allen French_.
BOYS' BOOK OF INVENTIONS, THE, by _Ray Stannard Baker_.
Descriptions of our latest inventions.
BOYS' SECOND BOOK OF INVENTIONS, THE, by _Ray Stannard Baker_.
BOY SCOUTS' BOOK OF STORIES, Edited by _Franklin K. Mathiews_.
CAREERS OF DANGER AND DARING, by _Cleveland Moffett_. Deals with
the dangerous occupations of man, steeple-climbing, fire
service, ballooning, etc.
CENTURY BOOK FOR YOUNG AMERICANS, THE, by _Eldridge Streeter
Brooks_. Deals with Washington and the government of the United
States.
COMPLETE HOUSEKEEPER, by _Emily Holt_.
ELECTRIC TOY-MAKING FOR AMATEURS, by _T. O'Connor Sloane_. A
practical book, interesting to boys.
EXPERIMENTAL SCIENCE, by _G. M. Hopkins_. A large and rather
expensive book on experimental physics.
FLAME, ELECTRICITY AND THE CAMERA. An account of man's progress
from the first kindling of fire to the present time.
GARDEN MAKING, by _Liberty Hyde Bailey_. A practical book for
school and house.
HANDYCRAFT FOR HANDY GIRLS, by _A. Neely Hall_ and _Dorothy
Perkins_. Practical plans for work and play.
HARPER'S INDOOR BOOK FOR BOYS, and HARPER'S OUTDOOR BOOK FOR BOYS,
by _J. H. Adams_. Practical directions for work and play.
MARY FRANCES SEWING-BOOK, by _Jane Eyre Foyer_.
OUTLINES OF THE EARTH'S HISTORY, by _N. S. Shaler_. A popular book
on physiography.
PRACTICAL TRACK AND FIELD ATHLETICS, by _John Graham_ and _Ellery
H. Clark_.
RULES OF ORDER (Pocket Manual), by _General Henry M. Roberts_.
Deals with rules of practice in deliberating assemblies.
YOUNG PEOPLE'S STORY OF ART, by _Ida Prentice Whitcomb_.
YOUNG AMERICAN, by _Harry Pratt Judson_. An outline of our system
of government.
WITH MEN WHO DO THINGS, by _A. Russell Bond_. "Scientific American"
Series.
HANDY TABLE OF ENGLISH WRITERS
A. PERIOD OF PREPARATION. From Caedmon's _Paraphrase_, (670),
to the death of Chaucer (1400).
I. Prior to Chaucer's birth (1340?).
_Beowulf._
Caedmon, ?-680.
Bede, 673-735.
II. During Chaucer's life.
Sir John Mandeville, 1300-1372.
John Wyclif, 1324-1384.
William Langland, _Piers Plowman_, 1332-?.
CHAUCER, 1340?-1400.
B. PERIOD OF ACCOMPLISHMENT. From the death of Chaucer to present time.
I. The Period of Italian Influence. From the death of Chaucer to the
Restoration of Charles II (1660).
1. The Age of Reaction. From the death of Chaucer to the
Accession of Queen Elizabeth (1558).
Malory, _Morte d'Arthur_.
William Tyndale, 1449-1536.
2. The Age of Elizabeth. From 1558 to 1603,
the Accession of James I.
John Lyly, 1554?-1606.
FRANCIS BACON, 1561-1626.
Sir Philip Sidney, 1554-1586.
Sir Walter Raleigh, 1552-1618.
EDMUND SPENSER, 1552-1599.
Christopher Marlowe, 1564-1593.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, 1564-1616.
Ben Jonson, 1573-1637.
Francis Beaumont, 1584-1616.
John Fletcher, 1579-1625.
3. The Puritan Age. From the Accession of James I to the
Restoration of Charles II (1660).
Izaak Walton, 1593-1683.
Jeremy Taylor, 1613-1667.
Sir Thomas Browne, 1605-1682.
John Bunyan, 1628-1688.
JOHN MILTON, 1608-1674.
Robert Herrick, 1591-1674.
II. The Period of French Influence. From the Restoration of Charles
II to the death of Pope (1744).
1. Age of the Restoration. From the Restoration of Charles II
to the Accession of Queen Anne (1702).
Samuel Butler, 1612-1680.
JOHN DRYDEN, 1631-1700.
John Locke, 1632-1704.
Samuel Pepys, 1633-1703.
Sir Isaac Newton, 1642-1727.
2. The Age of Queen Anne. From the Accession of Queen Anne to
the death of Pope.
Jonathan Swift, 1667-1745.
Daniel De Foe, 1661?-1731.
Richard Steele, 1672-1729.
JOSEPH ADDISON, 1662-1745.
ALEXANDER POPE, 1688-1744.
III. The Modern English Period. From the death of Pope to the present
time.
1. The Beginnings. From the death of Pope to 1780.
Samuel Richardson, 1689-1761.
Henry Fielding, 1707-1754.
Dr. Samuel Johnson, 1709-1784.
David Hume, 1711-1776.
Laurence Sterne, 1713-1768.
Thomas Gray, 1716-1771.
Tobias George Smollett, 1721-1771.
OLIVER GOLDSMITH, 1728-1774.
Edmund Burke, 1729-1797.
Edward Gibbon, 1737-1794.
2. The Romantic School. From 1780 to 1837,
the Accession of Queen Victoria.
William Cowper, 1731-1800.
Robert Burns, 1759-1796.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH, 1770-1850.
SIR WALTER SCOTT, 1771-1832.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1772-1834.
Robert Southey, 1774-1843.
Charles Lamb, 1775-1834.
Lord Byron, 1788-1824.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1792-1822.
John Keats, 1795-1821.
3. The Victorian Age. From the Accession of Victoria to the
present time.
Thomas Carlyle, 1795-1881.
Thomas Macaulay, 1800-1859.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806-1861.
ALFRED TENNYSON, 1809-1892.
William Makepeace Thackeray, 1811-1863.
Charles Dickens, 1812-1870.
Robert Browning, 1812-1889.
John Ruskin, 1819-1900.
GEORGE ELIOT, 1819-1880.
Matthew Arnold, 1822-1888.
Robert Louis Stevenson, 1850-1894.
HANDY TABLE OF AMERICAN WRITERS
A. The Colonial Period. The seventeenth and eighteenth century writers.
Anne Bradstreet, 1612-1672.
Cotton Mather, 1663-1728.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 1706-1790.
B. The National Period. The nineteenth century writers.
I. The Earlier Group.
William Ellery Channing, 1780-1842.
WASHINGTON IRVING, 1783-1859.
James Fenimore Cooper, 1789-1851.
William Cullen Bryant, 1794-1878.
William Hickling Prescott, 1796-1859.
Edgar Allan Poe, 1809-1849.
II. The Civil War Group.
George Bancroft, 1800-1891.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON, 1803-1882.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, 1804-1864.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 1807-1882.
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER, 1807-1892.
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, 1809-1894.
John Lothrop Motley, 1814-1877.
Henry David Thoreau, 1817-1862.
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, 1819-1891.
Francis Parkman, 1823-1893.
III. Later Writers.
Walt Whitman, 1819-1892.
Richard Henry Stoddard, 1825-1903.
Bayard Taylor, 1825-1878.
Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1833-1908.
Mark Twain, 1835-1910.
Eugene Field, 1850-1895.
GENERAL INDEX
A
_Abou Ben Adhem_: IX, 11.
_Abraham Lincoln_: IX, 324.
ADDISON, JOSEPH.
Selections: _The Vision of Mirza_: IX, 285.
_Sir Roger de Coverley_: IX, 371.
ADVENTURE.
_Robinson Crusoe_: III, 45.
_The Swiss Family Robinson_: III, 99.
_The Escape from Prison_: IV, 130.
_The Sunken Treasure_: IV, 199.
_The Arickara Indians_: IV, 472.
_Gulliver's Travels_: V, 6.
_Reminiscences of a Pioneer_: V, 340.
_The Buccaneers_: V, 359.
_Captain Morgan at Maracaibo_: V, 365.
_The Lion and the Missionary_: VI, 93.
_The Shipwreck_: VI, 371.
_Elephant Hunting_: VI, 385.
_An Exciting Canoe Race_: VII, 79.
_The Buffalo_: VII, 96.
_A Gorilla Hunt_: VII, 247.
_The Recovery of the Hispaniola_: VII, 352.
_Ringrose and His Buccaneers_: VIII, 1.
_David Crockett in the Creek War_: VIII, 37.
_A Descent into the Maelstrom_: VIII, 95.
_How They Took the Gold-Train_: VIII, 180.
_Ascent of the Jungfrau_: IX, 1.
_The Gold-Bug_: IX, 232.
_Modestine_: IX, 403.
ÆSOP.
Biography: II, 1.
_Afterwhile_: II, 123.
_Aladdin, The Story of._ See _Story of Aladdin_.
ALEXANDER, CECIL FRANCES.
Selection: _The Burial of Moses_: IV, 266.
_Alfred the Great_: IV, 260.
_Alhambra, The_: VIII, 153.
ALLEN, GRANT.
Selection: _A Bed of Nettles_: VIII, 209.
ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM.
Selections: _Fairies, The_: I, 405.
_Four Ducks on a Pond_: VI, 98.
_Leprecaun, The_: III, 33.
ALLSTON, WASHINGTON.
Selection: _Boyhood_: VI, 122.
_America_: VIII, 60.
_American Flag, The_: V, 396.
_American Writers, Handy Table of_: X, 473.
_Ancient Mariner, The Rime of the._ See _Rime of the Ancient
Mariner, The_.
ANDERSEN, HANS CHRISTIAN.
Biography: II, 81.
Selections: _Darning-Needle, The_: II, 463.
_Fir Tree, The_: II, 68.
_Flax, The_: I, 378.
_Hardy Tin Soldier, The_: I, 148.
_Holger Danske_: II, 377.
_Pea Blossom, The_: I, 205.
_Snow Queen, The_: II, 124.
_"Something:"_ I, 395.
_Ugly Duckling, The_: I, 414.
_What the Old Man Does Is Always Right_: II, 387.
_Annabel Lee_: VII, 341.
_Annie Laurie_: VI, 119.
_Apostrophe_: X, 266.
_Arabian Nights._
Selections: _Falcon and the Partridge, The_: II, 6.
_Second Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor, The_: III, 340.
_Sparrow and the Eagle, The_: II, 8.
_Story of Aladdin, The_: III, 288.
ARCHIBALD, MRS.
Selection: _John's Pumpkin_: III, 1.
_Arickara Indians, The_: IV, 472.
ARNOLD, MATTHEW.
Selections: _Forsaken Merman, The_: VII, 180.
_Sohrab and Rustum_: VI, 173.
_Arthur, King_: V, 113.
ARTON, BERNARD.
Selection: _Bruce and the Spider_: V, 314.
_Ascent of the Jungfrau_: IX, 1.
_Ass in the Lion's Skin, The_: I, 65.
_Atalanta's Race_: I, 386.
_Attack on the Castle, The_: IV, 322.
_At the Seaside_: I, 129.
_Auld Lang Syne_: VI, 228.
_Autumn Fires_: I, 394.
_Away_: IV, 460.
AYTOUN, WILLIAM E.
Selection: _The Heart of Bruce_: V, 316.
B
_Baby, The_: II, 11.
BACON, SIR FRANCIS.
Biography: IX, 395.
Selections: _Of Expence_: IX, 397.
_Of Studies_: IX, 400.
BAKER, SIR SAMUEL W.
Selection: _The Escape from Prison_: IV, 130.
_Bald Knight, The_: I, 385.
_Balin and Balan_: V, 130.
_Ballad of Agincourt, The_: V. 95.
BALLADS.
_Lochinvar_: III, 432.
_Robin Hood_: III, 436.
_Robin Hood and Little John_: III, 437.
_Robin Hood and the Stranger_: III, 444.
_Robin Hood and the Widow's Three Sons_: III, 449.
_Robin Hood and Allin a Dale_: III, 454.
_The Wreck of the Hesperus_: IV, 89.
_Chevy-Chase_: IV, 312.
_The Ballad of Agincourt_: V, 95.
_The Heart of Bruce_: V, 316.
_The Inchcape Rock_: V, 465.
_Lord Ullin's Daughter_: VI, 23.
_Hervé Riel_: VIII, 168.
_Bannockburn_: VII, 15.
_Barbara Frietchie_: III, 347.
_Barefoot Boy, The_: IV, 3.
_Baron Munchausen._ See _Munchausen, Baron_.
_Bat and the Two Weasels, The_: I, 154.
_Battle Hymn of the Republic_: V, 399.
_Battle of Cressy, The_: IX, 161.
_Battle of Hastings, The_: IX, 330.
_Battle of Ivry_: VIII, 76.
_Battle of Saratoga, The_: IX, 176.
_Battle of Thermopylæ, The_: VIII, 81.
_Battle of Trafalgar, The_: VIII, 284.
_Battle of Waterloo, The_: VIII, 176.
_Baucis and Philemon_: I, 431.
_Beauty and the Beast_: I, 318.
_Bed in Summer_: I, 173.
_Bed of Nettles, A_: VIII, 209.
BEERS, MRS. ETHEL LYNN.
Selection: _The Picket Guard_: VII, 177.
BELT, THOMAS.
Selections: _Some Clever Monkeys_: VI, 402.
_Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_: VII, 306.
_Beowulf and Grendel_: III, 350.
_Bernardo del Carpio_: IV, 270.
_Beth Gelert_: III, 42.
_Better Than Gold_: IV, 1.
BIOGRAPHY.
_Robert Louis Stevenson_: I, 128.
_Eugene Field_: I, 242.
_Æsop_: II, 1.
_Hans Christian Andersen_: II, 81.
_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_: IV, 62.
_Alice Cary_: IV, 116.
_Phoebe Cary_: IV, 116.
_Nathaniel Hawthorne_: IV, 180.
_Alfred the Great_: IV, 260.
_John Bunyan_: IV, 417.
_Jonathan Swift_: V, 1.
_Sir Walter Scott_: VI, 26.
_Matthew Arnold_: VI, 204.
_John Howard Payne_: VI, 221.
_Charles Dickens_: VI, 232.
_Thomas Gray_: VI, 369.
_George Rogers Clark_: VI, 422.
_Queen Victoria_: VII, 152.
_William Cowper_: VII, 331.
_John Greenleaf Whittier_: VII, 381.
_William Cullen Bryant_: VII, 391.
_Oliver Wendell Holmes_: VII, 398.
_James Russell Lowell_: VII, 411.
_Elizabeth Barrett Browning_: VII, 419.
_David Crockett_: VIII, 29.
_Père Marquette_: VIII, 121.
_Washington Irving_: VIII, 216.
_Charles Lamb_: VIII, 328.
_Mary Lamb_: VIII, 328.
_William Shakespeare_: VIII, 468.
_Florence Nightingale_: IX, 13.
_Julius Caesar_: IX, 155.
_Geoffrey Chaucer_: IX, 201.
_Samuel Johnson_: IX, 216.
_Sir Francis Bacon_: IX, 395.
_John Keats_: IX, 457.
See LEGENDARY HEROES; HISTORY.
BJÖRNSON, BJÖRNSTJERNE.
Selection: _The Tree_: I, 301.
_Black Hawk Tragedy, The_: VII, 58.
BLAKE, WILLIAM.
Selection: _Infant Joy_: II, 10.
_Blind Lassie, The_: VI, 120.
_Block City_: I, 196.
_Bluebeard_: II, 22.
_Boat Song_: VII, 17.
_Book Lists, Supplementary_: X, 451.
_Boston Massacre, The_: IV, 217.
BOSWELL, JAMES.
Selection: From _The Life of Johnson_: IX, 216.
_Boy and the Nettle, The_: I, 65.
_Boyhood_: VI, 122.
_Boys and the Frogs, The_: I, 63.
_Braddock's Defeat_: V, 379.
BRANCH, MARY BOLLES.
Selection: _The Petrified Fern_, VII, 77.
_Breathes There the Man_: VII, 151.
_Brook, The._ See _Song of the Brook_.
_Brother and Sister, The_: I, 410.
BROWN, JOHN, M. D.
Selection: _Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
BROWNING, ELIZABETH BARRETT.
Biography: VII, 419.
Selections: _Child's Thought of God, A_: VII, 418.
_Romance of the Swan's Nest, The_: VIII, 315.
BROWNING, ROBERT.
Selections: _Hervé Riel_: VIII, 168.
_How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_: V, 335.
_Incident of the French Camp_: IV, 174.
_Pied Piper of Hamelin, The_: III, 384.
_Pippa Passes_: IX, 293.
_Brown Thrush, The_: I, 147.
_Bruce, Robert, The Rise of._ See _Rise of Robert Bruce, The_.
_Bruce and the Spider_: V, 314.
_Brute Neighbors_: VII, 260.
BRYANT, WILLIAM CULLEN.
Biography: VII, 391.
Selections: _Robert of Lincoln_: IX, 444.
_To a Waterfowl_: VII, 395.
_To the Fringed Gentian_: VII, 4.
_Buccaneers, The_: V, 359.
_Buffalo, The_: VII, 96.
_Bugle Song, The_: VI, 133.
BUNYAN, JOHN.
Biography: IV, 417.
Selection: _The Pilgrim's Progress_: IV, 423.
_Burial of Moses_: IV, 266.
BURNS, ROBERT.
Selections: _Auld Lang Syne_: VI, 228.
_Bannockburn_: VII, 15.
_Cotter's Saturday Night, The_: VIII, 319.
_For A' That and A' That_: VII, 149.
_To a Mountain Daisy_: VII, 8.
_To a Mouse_: VII, 5.
BYRON, GEORGE GORDON, LORD.
Selections: _Battle of Waterloo, The_: VIII, 176.
_Destruction of Sennacherib, The_: VI, 141.
_Vision of Belshazzar, The_: VI, 153.
_Call to Arms, A_: IX, 475.
C
CAMPBELL, THOMAS.
Selections: _Lord Ullin's Daughter_: VI, 23.
_Rainbow, The_: VI, 91.
_Soldier's Dream, The_: VII, 170.
_Captain Morgan at Maracaibo_: V, 365.
_Capture of Vincennes, The_: VI, 428.
CARROLL, LEWIS.
Selections: _Mock Turtle's Story, The_: III, 3.
_Queen Alice_: III, 23.
_Walrus and the Carpenter, The_: III, 36.
CARY, ALICE.
Biography: IV, 116.
Selection: _Pictures of Memory_: IV, 127.
CARY, PHOEBE.
Biography: IV, 116.
Selection: _Nearer Home_: IV, 126.
_Casabianca_: VIII, 313.
_Cat and the Chestnuts, The_: I, 142.
CERVANTES. (Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra.)
Selection: _Don Quixote_: VII, 431.
_Charge of the Light Brigade, The_: VII, 147.
_Chambered Nautilus, The_: IX, 454.
_Character, Influence of Reading in Formation of_: X, 88.
CHARACTER, _Selections in_ Journeys _Teaching Valuable
Lessons in_ (see also Chapter V, page 85, Volume X):
_Wisdom, Ignorance_:--
_The Ass in the Lion's Skin_: I, 65.
_The Fox and the Stork_: I, 73.
_The Fox and the Grapes_: I, 135.
_The Bat and the Two Weasels_: I, 154.
_The Horse and the Stag_: I, 388.
_The Fox, the Wolf and the Horse_: I, 377.
_The Bold Knight_: I, 385.
_The Wolf and the Lamb_: I, 455.
_Minerva and the Owl_: II, 7.
_The Country Squire_: VI, 474.
_Attention to Little Things_:--
_The Lion and the Mouse_: I, 75.
_The Reaper and the Flowers_: I, 410.
_The Daffodils_: VII, 1.
_The Petrified Fern_: VII, 77.
_Promptness, Industry, Perseverance_:--
_Time to Rise_: I, 340.
_The Hare and the Tortoise_: I, 71.
_The Lark and Her Young Ones_: I, 131.
_Industry and Sloth_: I, 300.
_Whittington and His Cat_: I, 442.
_Tom, the Water Baby_: II, 215.
_The Village Blacksmith_: IV, 86.
_Bruce and the Spider_: V, 314.
_Independence, Equality of Man_:--
_The Village Blacksmith_: IV, 86.
_For A' That and A' That_: VII, 149.
_Courage and Bravery_:--
_The Boy and the Nettle_: I, 65.
_The Mice and the Cat_: I, 197.
_Roland at Roncesvalles_: III, 460.
_Cid Campeador_: IV, 9.
_Ulysses_: IV, 398.
_Horatius_: VI, 1.
_Evil of Conceit_:--
_The Gnat and the Bull_: I, 70.
_The Cock and the Horses_: I, 146.
_The Pea Blossom_: I, 205.
_The Sparrow and the Eagle_: II, 8.
_The Milkmaid_: II, 374.
_Flattery as a Vice_:--
_The Fox and the Crow_: I, 64.
_The Spider and the Fly_: III, 19.
_Love of Home and Family_:--
_The Rock-a-By Lady_: I, 94.
_Little Birdie_: I, 142.
_Sleep, Baby, Sleep_: I, 204.
_Old Gaelic Lullaby_: I, 203.
_Lady Button-Eyes_: I, 366.
_The First Snowfall_: II, 403.
_Rain on the Roof_: IV, 7.
_Pictures of Memory_: IV, 127.
_Bernardo del Carpio_: IV, 270.
_Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
_Childhood_: VI, 124.
_Home, Sweet Home_: VI, 221.
_Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead_: VI, 231.
_A Christmas Carol_: VI, 244.
_To My Infant Son_: VI, 478.
_The Old Oaken Bucket_: VII, 11.
_My Old Kentucky Home_: VII, 179.
_The Forsaken Merman_: VII, 180.
_Tom and Maggie Tulliver_: VII, 186.
_The Family of Michael Arout_: VII, 314.
_My Mother's Picture_: VII, 335.
_Snowbound_ (Extract from): VII, 388.
_The Cotter's Saturday Night_: VIII, 319.
_Dream Children_: VIII, 335.
_Honesty and Truthfulness_:--
_The Shepherd Boy and the Wolves_: I, 92.
_The Falcon and the Partridge_: II, 6.
_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_: III, 384.
_The Cubes of Truth_: VII, 406.
_Friendliness, Kindness, Consideration of Others_:--
_The Two Travelers_: I, 109.
_Cinderella_: I, 224.
_Baucis and Philemon_: I, 431.
_The Snow Queen_: II, 124.
_The King of the Golden River_: II, 405.
_Auld Lang Syne_: VI, 228.
_A Christmas Carol_: VI, 244.
_Florence Nightingale_: IX, 13.
_Generosity_:--
_The Two Travelers_: I, 109.
_The Two Travelers and the Oyster_: I, 111.
_The Cat and the Chestnuts_: I, 142.
_Baucis and Philemon_: I, 431.
_Kindness to Animals_:--
_The Boys and the Frogs_: I, 63.
_The Brown Thrush_: I, 147.
_Mercy to Animals_: I, 413.
_The Ugly Duckling_: I, 414.
_Tom, the Water Baby_: II, 215.
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_: II, 399.
_A Dog of Flanders_: IV, 93.
_Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
_The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_: VII, 29.
_Patience and Gentleness_:--
_The Wind and the Sun_: I, 95.
_Cinderella_: I, 224.
_Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
_Faithfulness_:--
_"Something"_: I, 395.
_Whittington and His Cat_: I, 442.
_The Mirror of Matsuyana_: II, 36.
_The Snow Queen_: II, 124.
_Casabianca_: VIII, 313.
_Envy and Covetousness as Evils_:--
_The Dog and His Shadow_: I, 63.
_The Frog Who Wished to Be as Big as an Ox_: I, 66.
_The Golden Touch_: II, 43.
_Contentment, Hopefulness_:--
_The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse_: I, 199.
_The Pea Blossom_: I, 205.
_The Flax_: I, 378.
_The Discontented Stonecutter_: II, 12.
_The Fir Tree_: II, 68.
_The Blind Lassie_: VI, 120.
_Pippa Passes_: IX, 293.
_Patriotism--Love of Country_:--
_Holger Danske_: II, 377.
_Incident of the French Camp_: IV, 174.
_The American Flag_: V, 396.
_Battle Hymn of the Republic_: V, 399.
_Stonewall Jackson's Way_: V, 400.
_Horatius_: VI, 1.
_Bannockburn_: VII, 15.
_Breathes There the Man_: VII, 151.
_How Sleep the Brave_: VII, 151.
_Make Way for Liberty_: VII, 172.
_The Old Continentals_: VII, 175.
_America_: VIII, 60.
_The Battle of Thermopylae_: VIII, 81.
_The Fall of the Alamo_: VIII, 141.
_Hervé Riel_: VIII, 168.
_The Battle of Trafalgar_: VIII, 284.
_The Gettysburg Address_: IX, 321.
_Religious Feeling--Devotion to God_:--
_A Thought_: I, 66.
_The First Snowfall_: II, 403.
_Nearer Home_: IV, 126.
_Stonewall Jackson's Way_: V, 400.
_The Rainbow_: VI, 91.
_A Child's Thought of God_: VII, 418.
_Character, The Building of_: X, 85.
_Chaucer, Geoffrey_: IX, 201.
_Chevy-Chase_: IV, 312.
CHILD, L. MARIA.
Selection: _Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_: II, 399.
_Childhood_: VI, 124.
_Children's Books of the Past, Some._ See _Some Children's Books
of the Past_.
_Child's Thought of God, A_: VII, 418.
_Child's World, The_: II, 66.
_Chimera, The_: II, 173.
_Christmas Carol, A_: VI, 244.
_Christmas in Old Time_: VI, 356.
_Cid Campeador_: IV, 9.
_Cinderella_: I, 224.
CLARK, GEORGE ROGERS.
Biography: VI, 422.
Selection: _The Capture of Vincennes_: VI, 428.
_Classification of Masterpieces, Graphic_: X, 12.
CLEVELAND, HENRY R.
Selection: _Henry Hudson's Fourth Voyage_: V, 254.
_Close Reading or Study_: X, 224.
_Cloud, The_: VII, 257.
_Cock and the Horses, The_: I, 146.
COE, EDWIN D.
Selections: _Black Hawk Tragedy, The_: VII, 58.
_Reminiscences of a Pioneer_: V, 340.
COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR.
Selection: _The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_: VII, 29.
COLLINS, WILLIAM.
Selection: _How Sleep the Brave_: VII, 151.
_Comic Songs, On._ See _On Comic Songs_.
_Contrast, A_: II, 42.
COOPER, JAMES FENIMORE.
Selection: _An Exciting Canoe Race_: VII, 79.
_Correlation of_ Journeys _with the School_: X, 345.
_Reading_: X, 315, 348.
_Language_: X, 345, 349.
_Nature Study_: X, 380.
_Geography and History_: X, 400.
_High School_: X, 425.
_Cortés, The Retreat of._ See _Retreat of Cortés, The_.
_Cotters Saturday Night, The_: VIII, 319.
_Country Squire, The_: VI, 474.
_Cow, The_: I, 106.
COWPER, WILLIAM.
Biography: VII, 331.
Selections: _Mercy to Animals_: I, 413.
_My Mother's Picture_: VII, 335.
CREASY, E. S.
Selections: _Battle of Hastings, The_: IX, 330.
_Battle of Saratoga, The_: IX, 176.
_Creation, Stories of the._ See _Stories of the Creation_.
CROCKETT, DAVID.
Biography: VIII, 29.
Selections: _David Crockett in the Creek War_: VIII, 37.
_Fiddling Parson, The_: V, 440.
_Knock-Out, The_: VI, 471.
_Cubes of Truth, The_: VII, 406.
CUMMING, ROUALEYN GORDON.
Selection: _Elephant Hunting_: VI, 385.
_Cupid and Psyche_: III, 365.
D
_Daffodils, The_: VII, 1.
_Darning-Needle, The_: II, 463.
_David_: IV, 274.
_David Crockett in the Creek War_: VIII, 37.
_Death of Balder, The_: II, 99.
_Death of Cæsar, The_: IX, 126.
_Death of Cæsar, The_: IX, 143.
_Death of Hector, The_: IV, 364.
_Definition of a Gentleman_: IV, 170.
DEFOE, DANIEL.
Selection: _Robinson Crusoe_: III, 45.
DEKKER, THOMAS.
Selection: _Lullaby_: I, 96.
DE QUINCEY, THOMAS.
Selection: _Joan of Arc_: IV, 225.
_Descent into the Maelstrom, A_: VIII, 95.
_Destruction of Sennacherib, The_: VI, 141.
DICKENS, CHARLES.
Biography: VI, 232.
Selections: _Alfred the Great_: IV, 260.
_Christmas Carol, A_: VI, 244.
_Pickwick and Sam Weller_: IX, 76.
DIMOND, WILLIAM.
Selection: _The Mariner's Dream_: III, 95.
_Discontented Stonecutter, The_: II, 12.
_Discreet Hans_: II, 15.
_Dissensions at King Arthur's Court_: V, 232.
_Dissertation upon Roast Pig, A_: IX, 56.
DOBELL, SYDNEY.
Selection: _How's My Boy?_: VII, 169.
_Dog and his Shadow, The_: I, 63.
_Dog in the Manger, The_: I, 134.
_Dog of Flanders, A_: IV, 93.
_Don Quixote_: VII, 431.
DOUGLAS, WILLIAM.
Selection: _Annie Laurie_: VI, 119.
DRAKE, JOSEPH RODMAN.
Selection: _The American Flag_: V, 396.
DRAMA.
_The Tempest_: VIII, 364.
_The Death of Cæsar_: IX, 143.
_Drama, Definition and Study of_: X, 325.
_Dramatic Poetry, Definition of_: X, 339.
DRAYTON, MICHAEL.
Selection: _The Ballad of Agincourt_: V, 95.
_Dream Children: A Revery_: VIII, 335.
_Drummer, The_: I, 303.
DU CHAILLU, PAUL.
Selection: _A Gorilla Hunt_: VII, 247.
_Duel, The_: I, 384.
DUFFERIN, LADY.
Selection: _Katey's Letter_: IV, 470.
E
_Echo_: III, 286.
_Education, Forces in_: X, 3.
_Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog_: IV, 57.
_Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard_: VI, 360.
_Elephant Hunting_: VI, 385.
ELIOT, GEORGE.
Selection: _Tom and Maggie Tulliver_: VII, 186.
_Emotional Power in Fiction_: X, 176.
_Enchanted Stag, The_: I, 341.
_English Robin, The_: II, 214.
_English Writers, Handy Table of_: X, 469.
_Epic Poetry, Definition of_: X, 331.
_Escape from Prison, The_: IV, 130.
_Essay, Definition and Study of the_: X, 322, 431.
ESSAYS.
_Some Children's Books of the Past_: V, 101.
_Childhood_: VI, 124.
_Poor Richard's Almanac_: VI, 407.
_Cubes of Truth_: VII, 406.
_The Alhambra_: VIII, 153.
_Dream Children_: VIII, 335.
_The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_: IX, 32.
_A Dissertation upon Roast Pig_: IX, 56.
_The Praise of Chimney Sweepers_: IX, 66.
_The Vision of Mirza_: IX, 285.
_Sir Roger de Coverley_: IX, 371.
_Of Expense_: IX, 397.
_Of Studies_: IX, 400.
_Modestine_: IX, 403.
_Esther, The Story of_: II, 448.
_Exciting Canoe Race, An_: VII, 79.
_Expense, Of_: IX, 397.
F
FABLES.
_The Boys and the Frogs_: I, 63.
_The Dog and His Shadow_: I, 63.
_The Fox and the Crow_: I, 64.
_The Ass in the Lion's Skin_: I, 65.
_The Boy and the Nettle_: I, 65.
_The Frog Who Wished to Be as Big as an Ox_: I, 66.
_The Gnat and the Bull_: I, 70.
_The Hare and the Tortoise_: I, 71.
_The Fox and the Stork_: I, 73.
_The Lion and the Mouse_: I, 75.
_The Old Man and His Sons_: I, 78.
_The Shepherd Boy and the Wolves_: I, 92.
_The Wind and the Sun_: I, 95.
_The Wolf and the Crane_: I, 96.
_The Two Travelers_: I, 109.
_The Two Travelers and the Oyster_: I, 111.
_The Lark and Her Young Ones_: I, 131.
_The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs_: I, 173.
_The Dog in the Manger_: I, 134.
_The Fox and the Grapes_: I, 135.
_The Cat and the Chestnuts_: I, 142.
_The Cock and the Horses_: I, 146.
_The Bat and the Two Weasels_: I, 154.
_The Mice and the Cat_: I, 197.
_The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse_: I, 199.
_The Lion, the Fox and the Ass_: I, 223.
_Industry and Sloth_: I, 300.
_The Horse and the Stag_: I, 338.
_The Fox, the Wolf and the Horse_: I, 377.
_The Bald Knight_: I, 385.
_The Brother and Sister_: I, 410.
_The Wolf and the Lamb_: I, 455.
_Æsop_: II, 1.
_Minerva and the Owl_: II, 7.
_The Falcon and the Partridge_: II, 6.
_The Sparrow and the Eagle_: II, 8.
_The Old Man and Death_: II, 9.
_Fairies, The_: I, 405.
_Fairies of the Caldon-Low, The_: II, 395.
_Fairy Bread_: I, 198.
FAIRY LORE AND FOLK LORE.
_Little Red Riding Hood_: I, 79.
_Tom Thumb_: I, 84.
_The Little Old Woman and Her Pig_: I, 97.
_Silver-Locks and the Three Bears_: I, 101.
_The Ladybird and the Fly_: I, 107.
_Hop-O'-My-Thumb_: I, 112.
_The Three Little Pigs_: I, 136.
_The Hardy Tin Soldier_: I, 148.
_Jack and the Beanstalk_: I, 156.
_Jack the Giant-Killer_: I, 174.
_The Pea Blossom_: I, 205.
_Hansel and Grethel_: I, 210.
_Cinderella_: I, 224.
_The Three Tasks_: I, 247.
_The Snow Maiden_: I, 257.
_The Twin Brothers_: I, 264.
_The Drummer_: I, 303.
_Beauty and the Beast_: I, 318.
_The Enchanted Stag_: I, 341.
_The Golden Bird_: I, 352.
_The Flax_: I, 378.
_"Something"_: I, 395.
_The Fairies_: I, 405.
_The Ugly Duckling_: I, 414.
_Whittington and His Cat_: I, 442.
_The Discontented Stonecutter_: II, 12.
_Discreet Hans_: II, 15.
_Bluebeard_: II, 22.
_Rumpelstiltzkin_: II, 33.
_Mirror of Matsuyana_, II, 36.
_The Fir Tree_: II, 68.
_The Snow Queen_: II, 124.
_Tom, The Water Baby_: II, 215.
_The Fairies of the Caldon-Low_: II, 395.
_The Darning-Needle_: II, 463.
_Why the Sea Is Salt_: II, 484.
_Origin of the Opal_: II, 480.
_What the Old Man Does Is Always Right_: II, 387.
_Holger Danske_: II, 377.
_The King and the Golden River_: II, 405.
_The Mock Turtle's Story_: III, 3.
_Queen Alice_: III, 23.
_The Leprecaun_: III, 33.
_The Walrus and the Carpenter_: III, 36.
_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_: III, 384.
_The Forsaken Merman_: VII, 180.
See MYTHS and LEGENDARY HEROES.
_Faithless Sally Brown_: III, 92.
_Falcon and the Partridge, The_: II, 6.
_Fall of the Alamo, The_: VIII, 141.
_Family of Michael Arout, The_: VII, 314.
_Farewell, A_: III, 22.
_Fate of the Indians, The_: IX, 466.
_Father and Son_: X, 107.
FICTION. See ADVENTURE; FABLES; FAIRY LORE AND FOLK LORE; NARRATIVE
POEMS; NOVELS; STORIES.
_Fiction, How to Read_: X, 143.
_Fiddling Parson, The_: V, 440.
FIELD, EUGENE.
Biography: I, 242.
Selections: _Duel, The_: I, 384.
_Lady Button-Eyes_: I, 366.
_Little Blue Pigeon_: I, 133.
_Norse Lullaby_: I, 246.
_Rock-a-By-Lady, The_: I, 94.
_Seein' Things_: I, 240.
_Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks_: II, 121.
_Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_: I, 262.
_Figures of Speech_: X, 256.
_First Snowfall, The_: II, 403.
_Fir Tree, The_: II, 68.
_Flax, The_: I, 378.
_Florence Nightingale_: IX, 13.
FOLK LORE. See FAIRY LORE AND FOLK LORE.
FOLLEN, MRS. ELIZA LEE.
Selection: _Stop, Stop, Pretty Water_: I, 317.
_Footsteps of Angels_: IV, 82.
_For A' That and A' That_: VII, 149.
_Forces in Education_: X, 3.
_Foreign Children_: I, 351.
_Foreign Lands_: I, 130.
_Forsaken Merman, The_: VII, 180.
FOSTER, STEPHEN COLLINS.
Selection: _My Old Kentucky Home_: VII, 179.
_Four Ducks on a Pond_: VI, 98.
_Fox and the Crow, The_: I, 64.
_Fox and the Grapes, The_: I, 135.
_Fox and the Stork, The_: I, 73.
_Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse, The_: I, 377.
FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN.
Selections: _Braddock's Defeat_: V, 379.
_Poor Richard's Almanac_: VI, 407.
_Frithiof the Bold_: III, 394.
_Frog Who Wished to be as Big as an Ox, The_: I, 66.
FROISSART, JEAN.
Selection: _The Battle of Cressy_: IX, 161.
_From a Railway Carriage_: I, 198.
FROUDE, JAMES ANTHONY.
Selection: _Julius Cæsar_: IX, 155.
G
_Geography, Analysis and Classification of Selections Correlated
with_: X, 402.
_Geography, The Teaching of_: X, 400.
_Geraint and Enid_: V, 148.
_Gettysburg Address, The_: IX, 321.
GILBERT, W. S.
Selection: _The Yarn of the "Nancy Bell"_: IV, 466.
_Gnat and the Bull, The_: I, 70.
_Gold-Bug, The_: IX, 232.
_Golden Bird, The_: I, 352.
_Golden Touch, The_: II, 43.
GOLDSMITH, OLIVER.
Selection: _Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog_: IV, 57.
_Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs, The_: I, 173.
_Gorilla Hunt, A_: VII, 247.
_Governor and the Notary, The_: VII, 20.
_Graphic Classification of Masterpieces_: X, 12.
GRAY, THOMAS.
Selection: _Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard_: VI, 360.
GRIFFIN, GERALD.
Selection: _Limestone Broth_: VI, 467.
GRIMM, JAKOB AND WILHELM.
Selections: _Discreet Hans_: II, 15.
_Drummer, The_: I, 303.
_Enchanted Stag, The_: I, 341.
_Golden Bird, The_: I, 352.
_Hansel and Grethel_: I, 210
_Ladybird and the Fly, The_: I, 107.
_Three Tasks, The_: I, 247.
_Twin Brothers, The_: I, 264.
_Rumpelstiltzken_: II, 33.
_Gulliver's Travels_: V, 6.
H
HALLECK, FITZ-GREENE.
Selection: _Marco Bozzaris_: VIII, 90.
_Handy Tables of American Writers_: X, 473.
_Handy Tables of English Writers_: X, 469.
_Hansel and Grethel_: I, 210.
_Hardy Tin Soldier, The_: I, 148.
_Hare and the Tortoise, The_: I, 71.
HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL.
Biography: IV, 180.
Selections: _Boston Massacre, The_: IV, 217.
_Chimera, The_: II, 173.
_Golden Touch, The_: II, 43.
_Hutchinson Mob, The_: IV, 208.
_Pine-Tree Shillings, The_: IV, 192.
_Sunken Treasure, The_: IV, 199.
HAY, JOHN.
Selection: _Little Breeches_: IV, 462.
_Heart of Bruce, The_: V, 316.
HEMANS, FELICIA BROWNE.
Selections: _Bernardo del Carpio_: IV, 270.
_Casabianca_: VIII, 313.
_Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England_: IV, 197.
HENRY, PATRICK.
Selection: _A Call to Arms_: IX, 475.
HEROES. See LEGENDARY HEROES.
_Hervé Riel_: VIII, 168.
_High School, Correlation of_ Journeys _with_: X, 425.
HISTORY.
_The Story of Joseph_: I, 456.
_The Hutchinson Mob_: IV, 208.
_The Boston Massacre_: IV, 217.
_Joan of Arc_: IV, 226.
_Alfred the Great_: IV, 260.
_Henry Hudson's Fourth Voyage_: V, 254.
_The Arickara Indians_: IV, 472.
_The Rise of Robert Bruce_: V, 278.
_The Buccaneers_: V, 359.
_Captain Morgan at Maracaibo_: V, 365.
_Braddock's Defeat_: V, 379.
_The Capture of Vincennes_: VI, 428.
_The Black Hawk Tragedy_: VII, 58.
_Ringrose and His Buccaneers_: VIII, 1.
_David Crockett in the Creek War_: VIII, 37.
_The Retreat of Cortés_: VIII, 63.
_The Battle of Thermopylæ_: VIII, 81.
_Père Marquette_: VIII, 121.
_The Fall of the Alamo_: VIII, 141.
_The Battle of Trafalgar_: VIII, 284.
_The Impeachment of Warren Hastings_: IX, 32.
_The Death of Cæsar_: IX, 126.
_The Death of Cæsar_: IX, 143.
_The Battle of Cressy_: IX, 161.
_The Battle of Saratoga_: IX, 176.
_The Battle of Hastings_: IX, 330.
_History, Analysis and Classification of Selections Correlated with_:
X, 403-410.
_History, The Teaching of_: X, 400.
_Holger Danske_: II, 377.
HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL.
Biography: VII, 398.
Selections: _The Cubes of Truth_: VII, 406.
_The Chambered Nautilus_: IX, 454.
_Holy Grail, The_: V, 207.
_Home, Sweet Home_: VI, 221.
_Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead_: VI, 231.
HOMER.
Selection: _The Death of Hector_: IV, 364.
HOOD, THOMAS.
Selections: _Faithless Sally Brown_: III, 92.
_To My Infant Son_: VI, 478.
_Hop-O'-My-Thumb_: I, 112.
_Horatius_: VI, 1.
_Horse and the Stag, The_: I, 338.
HOWE, JULIA WARD.
Selection: _Battle Hymn of the Republic_: V, 399.
HOWITT, MARY.
Selections: _Fairies of the Caldon-Low, The_: II, 395.
_Spider and the Fly, The_: III, 19.
_Why the Sea Is Salt_: II, 484.
_How Sleep the Brave_: VII, 151.
_How's My Boy?_: VII, 169.
_How the Wolf Was Bound_: II, 91.
_How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_: V, 335.
_How They Took the Gold-Train_: VIII, 180.
_How to Read Aloud_: X, 311.
_How to Read Fiction_: X, 143.
_How to Read Poetry_: X, 272.
_How to Read Stories_: X, 145.
_Hudson's Fourth Voyage_: V, 254.
HUGHES, THOMAS.
Selection: _Tom Brown at Rugby_: V, 469.
HUMOR. See WIT AND HUMOR.
HUNT, LEIGH.
Selection: _Abou Ben Adhem_: IX, 11.
_Hutchinson Mob, The_: IV, 208.
I
_Imitation of Christ_: VI, 134.
_Impeachment of Warren Hastings, The_: IX, 32.
_Inchcape Rock, The_: V, 465.
_Incident of the French Camp_: IV, 174.
_Industry and Sloth_: I, 300.
_Infant Joy_: II, 10.
INGELOW, JEAN.
Selection: _Seven Times One_: II, 119.
_Interpretations._ See STUDIES.
_In Time's Swing_: II, 481.
IRVING, WASHINGTON.
Biography: VIII, 216.
Selections: _Alhambra, The_: VIII, 153.
_Arickara Indians, The_: IV, 472.
_Governor and the Notary, The_: VII, 20.
_Knickerbocker History of New York, The_: VIII, 224.
J
_Jack and the Beanstalk_: I, 156.
_Jack the Giant-Killer_: I, 174.
JEROME, JEROME K.
Selections: _On Comic Songs_: V, 455.
_We Plan a River Trip_: V, 443.
_Joan of Arc_: IV, 226.
_Johnson, Samuel, The Life of_: IX, 216.
_John's Pumpkin_: III, 1.
_Joseph, The Story of_: I, 456.
_Julius Cæsar_: IX, 155.
K
_Katey's Letter_: IV, 470.
KEATS, JOHN.
Biography: IX, 457.
Selection: _Ode on a Grecian Urn_: IX, 462.
_Keepsake Mill_: I, 349.
KEMPIS, THOMAS À.
Selection: From _Imitation of Christ_: VI, 134.
KEY, FRANCIS SCOTT.
Selection: _Star-Spangled Banner, The_: VII, 167.
_King Arthur._ See _Arthur, King_.
_King of the Golden River, The_: II, 405.
KINGSLEY, CHARLES.
Selections: _A Farewell_: III, 22.
_How They Took the Gold-Train_: VIII, 180.
_Sands of Dee, The_: I, 412.
_Three Fishers, The_: VII, 343.
_Tom, the Water Baby_: II, 215.
KINNEY, COATES.
Selection: _Rain on the Roof_: IV, 7.
KIPLING, RUDYARD.
Selections: _Recessional, The_: VII, 164.
_Salmon Fishing_: VII, 285.
_Knickerbocker History of New York, The_: VIII, 224.
_Knock-Out, The_: VI, 471.
KRAUT, MARY HANNAH.
Selection: _Little Brown Hands_: I, 441.
KRUMMACHER.
Selection: _The Moss Rose_: VI, 98.
L
_Ladybird and the Fly, The_: I, 107.
_Lady Button-Eyes_: I, 366.
LAMB, CHARLES.
Biography: VIII, 328.
Selections: _Dissertation upon Roast Pig, A_: IX, 56.
_Dream Children: A Revery_: VIII, 335.
_Praise of Chimney Sweepers, The_: IX, 66.
_Tempest, The_: VIII, 348.
LAMB, MARY.
Biography: VIII, 328.
Selection: _The Tempest_: VIII, 348.
_Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England_: IV, 197.
_Land of Counterpane, The_: I, 144.
_Language, Analysis and Classification of Selections for the Study of_:
X, 354, 378.
_Language, Correlation of_ Journeys _with Study of_: X, 345, 349.
_Language, The Teaching of_: X, 349.
LARCOM, LUCY.
Selections: _Brown Thrush, The_: I, 147.
_In Time's Swing_: II, 481.
_Lark and Her Young Ones, The_: I, 131.
LATTO, T. C.
Selection: _The Blind Lassie_: VI, 120.
_Lead, Kindly Light_: V, 110.
LEAR, EDWARD.
Selection: _The Owl and the Pussy-Cat_: I, 339.
LEGENDARY HEROES.
_Beowulf and Grendel_: III, 350.
_Frithiof the Bold_: III, 394.
_The Story of Siegfried_: III, 410.
_Roland at Roncesvalles_: III, 460.
_Cid Campeador_: IV, 9.
_The Death of Hector_: IV, 364.
_The Wooden Horse_: IV, 383.
_Ulysses_: IV, 398.
_King Arthur_: V, 113.
_Balin and Balan_: V, 130.
_Geraint and Enid_: V, 148.
_The Holy Grail_: V, 207.
_Dissensions at King Arthur's Court_: V, 232.
_The Passing of Arthur_: V, 237.
_Horatius_: VI, 1.
_Sohrab and Rustem_: VI, 157.
_Sohrab and Rustum_: VI, 173.
_Leprecaun, The_: III. 33.
_Lesson and the Author's Purpose, in Fiction, The_: X, 170.
_Let Something Good Be Said_: V, 111.
_Life of Samuel Johnson, The_: IX, 216.
_Limestone Broth_: VI, 467.
LINCOLN, ABRAHAM.
Selection: _The Gettysburg Address_: IX, 321.
_Lincoln, Abraham._ See _Abraham Lincoln_.
_Lion and The Missionary, The_: VI, 93.
_Lion and the Mouse, The_: I, 75.
_Lion, the Fox and the Ass, The_: I, 223.
_Literature and Its Forms_: X, 317.
_Literature, Different Kinds of_: X, 143.
_Little Birdie_: I, 142.
_Little Blue Pigeon_: I, 133.
_Little Breeches_: IV, 462.
_Little Brown Hands_: I, 441.
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_: IV, 461.
_Little Old Woman and Her Pig, The_: I, 97.
_Little Red Riding-Hood_: I, 79.
LIVINGSTONE, DAVID.
Selection: _The Lion and the Missionary_: VI, 93.
_Lochinvar_: III, 432.
LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH.
Biography: IV, 62.
Selections: _Footsteps of Angels_: IV, 82.
_Reaper and the Flowers, The_: I, 410.
_Skeleton in Armor, The_: V, 327.
_Village Blacksmith, The_: IV, 86.
_Wreck of the Hesperus, The_: IV, 89.
_Looking Forward_: I, 106.
_Lord Ullin's Daughter_: VI, 23.
_Lost Child, The_: VII, 409.
LOVER, SAMUEL.
Selection: _Widow Machree_: VI, 464.
LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL.
Biography: VII, 411.
Selections: _First Snowfall, The_: II, 403.
_Lost Child, The_: VII, 409.
_To H. W. L._: IV, 84.
LULLABIES.
_The Rock-a-By Lady_: I, 94.
_Little Blue Pigeon_: I, 133.
_Sleep, Baby, Sleep_: I, 204.
_Old Gaelic Lullaby_: I, 203.
_Norse Lullaby_: I, 246.
_Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_: I, 262.
_Lady Button-Eyes_: I, 366.
_Lullaby_: I, 96, II, 32.
_Lyric Poetry, Definition of_: X, 333.
LYRICS.
_A Thought_: I, 66.
_The Swing_: I, 67.
_The Sun's Travels_: I, 68.
_Singing_: I, 88.
_Looking Forward_: I, 106.
_The Cow_: I, 106.
_Rain_: I, 110.
_System_: I, 111.
_My Bed Is a Boat_: I, 126.
_Foreign Lands_: I, 130.
_At the Seaside_: I, 129.
_The Land of Counterpane_: I, 144.
_Bed in Summer_: I, 173.
_Block City_: I, 196.
_From a Railway Carriage_: I, 198
_Fairy Bread_: I, 198.
_Seein' Things_: I, 240.
_Whole Duty of Children_: I, 301.
_The Tree_: I, 301.
_Young Night Thought_: I, 302.
_Where Go the Boats?_: I, 256.
_Stop, Stop, Pretty Water_: I, 317.
_Time to Rise_: I, 340.
_Keepsake Mill_: I, 349.
_Foreign Children_: I, 351.
_The Duel_: I, 384.
_Autumn Fires_: I, 394.
_The Reaper and the Flowers_: I, 410.
_The Wind_: I, 440.
_Little Brown Hands_: I, 441.
_Infant Joy_: II, 10.
_The Baby_: II, 11.
_Poppyland Express_: II, 21.
_A Contrast_: II, 42.
_The Child's World_: II, 66.
_Afterwhile_: II, 123.
_Windy Nights_: II, 123.
_Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks_: II, 121.
_Picture-Books in Winter_: II, 87.
_Seven Times One_: II, 119.
_The First Snowfall_: II, 403.
_In Time's Swing_: II, 481.
_A Farewell_: III, 22.
_Night_: III, 431.
_Better Than Gold_: IV, 1.
_The Barefoot Boy_: IV, 3.
_Rain on the Roof_: IV, 7.
_Mother's Way_: IV, 58.
_Footsteps of Angels_: IV, 82.
_The Village Blacksmith_: IV, 86.
_Pictures of Memory_: IV, 127.
_Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England_: IV, 197.
_Away_: IV, 460.
_Lead, Kindly Light_: V, 110.
_Let Something Good be Said_: V, 111.
_Boyhood_: VI, 122.
_The Rainbow_: VI, 91.
_Four Ducks on a Pond_: VI, 98.
_The Blind Lassie_: VI, 120.
_Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead_: VI, 231.
_Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard_: VI, 360.
_The Daffodils_: VII, 1.
_The Recessional_: VII, 164.
_The Cloud_: VII, 257.
_My Mother's Picture_: VII, 335.
_Annabel Lee_: VII, 341.
_The Lost Child_: VII, 409.
_A Child's Thought of God_: VII, 418.
_Robert of Lincoln_: IX, 444.
_The Chambered Nautilus_: IX, 454.
M
MACAULAY, THOMAS BABINGTON.
Selections: _Battle of Ivry_: VIII, 76.
_Horatius_: VI, 1.
_Impeachment of Warren Hastings, The_: IX, 32.
MCCALEB, ANNA.
Adaptations: _Atalanta's Race_: I, 386.
_Baucis and Philemon_: I, 431.
_Cupid and Psyche_: III, 365.
_Death of Balder, The_: II, 99.
_How the Wolf Was Bound_: II, 91.
_Punishment of Loki, The_: II, 111.
_Queen of the Underworld, The_: II, 468.
_Story of Phaethon, The_: II, 245.
_Wonderful Gifts, The_: I, 368.
Selections: _Battle of Thermopylæ, The_: VIII, 81.
_Browning, Elizabeth Barrett_: VII, 419.
_Cary, Alice and Phoebe_: IV, 116.
_Dickens, Charles_: VI, 232.
_Nightingale, Florence_: IX, 13.
_Queen Victoria_: VII, 152.
MACDONALD, GEORGE.
Selection: _The Baby_: II, 11.
MCMASTER, GUY HUMPHREY.
Selection: _The Old Continentals_: VII, 175.
_Make Way for Liberty_: VII, 172.
MALORY, SIR THOMAS.
Selection: (Abridgment of) _The Holy Grail_: V, 207.
_Mandeville, The Travels of Sir John_: IX, 207.
_Marching Song_: I, 155.
_Marco Bozzaris_: VIII, 90.
_Mariner's Dream, The_: III, 95.
_Marquette, Père._ See _Père Marquette_.
MARVEL, IK. See MITCHELL, DONALD G.
_Masterpieces, Graphic Classification of_: X, 12.
_Memorizing_: X, 128.
_Mercy to Animals_: I, 413.
_Metaphor, The_: X, 264.
_Method and Style of the Authors, in Fiction_: X, 174.
_Metonymy_: X, 265.
_Mice and the Cat, The_: I, 197.
_Milkmaid, The_: II, 374.
_Minerva and the Owl_: II, 7.
_Mirror of Matsuyana, The_: II, 36.
MITCHELL, DONALD G.
Selection: _Childhood_: VI, 124.
_Mock Turtle's Story, The_: III, 3.
_Modern Belle, The_: VI, 463.
_Modestine_: IX, 403.
MONTGOMERY, JAMES.
Selection: _Make Way for Liberty_: VII, 172.
MOORE, CLEMENT C.
Selection: _A Visit from Saint Nicholas_: II, 202.
MOORE, THOMAS.
Selections: _Potato, The_: II, 467.
_Those Evening Bells_: VII, 340.
_Moral Instruction_: X, 126.
_Moss Rose, The_: VI, 98.
_Mother's Way_: IV, 58.
_Munchausen, Baron_: V, 403.
_My Bed Is a Boat_: I, 126.
_My Heart Leaps Up_: IV, 2.
_My Mother's Picture_: VII, 335.
_My Old Kentucky Home_: VII, 179.
MYTHS.
_The Wonderful Gifts_: I, 368.
_Atalanta's Race_: I, 386.
_Baucis and Philemon_: I, 431.
_The Golden Touch_: II, 43.
_How the Wolf Was Bound_: II, 91.
_The Death of Balder_: II, 99.
_The Punishment of Loki_: II, 111.
_The Chimera_: II, 173.
_The Story of Phaethon_: II, 206.
_The Queen of the Underworld_: II, 468.
_Cupid and Psyche_: III, 365.
_Stories of the Creation_: IV, 159.
N
NARRATIVE POEMS.
_The Sands of Dee_: I, 412.
_A Visit from Saint Nicholas_: II, 202.
_The Spider and the Fly_: III, 19.
_Beth Gelert_: III, 42.
_The Mariner's Dream_: III, 95.
_The Pied Piper of Hamelin_: III, 384.
_Incident of the French Camp_: IV, 174.
_Sheridan's Ride_: IV, 223.
_Burial of Moses_: IV, 266.
_Bernardo del Carpio_: IV, 270.
_The Death of Hector_: IV, 364.
_The Wooden Horse_: IV, 383.
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_: IV, 461.
_Little Breeches_: IV, 462.
_Geraint and Enid_: V, 148.
_The Passing of Arthur_: V, 237.
_Bruce and the Spider_: V, 314.
_The Skeleton in Armor_: V, 327.
_How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_: V, 335.
_Horatius_: VI, 1.
_The Destruction of Sennacherib_: VI, 141.
_The Vision of Belshazzar_: VI, 153.
_Sohrab and Rustum_: VI, 173.
_The Rime of the Ancient Mariner_: VII, 29.
_How's My Boy?_: VII, 169.
_The Soldier's Dream_: VII, 170.
_The Forsaken Merman_: VII, 180.
_The Reaper's Dream_: VII, 345.
_Battle of Ivry_: VIII, 76.
_The Battle of Waterloo_: VIII, 176.
_Casabianca_: VIII, 313.
_The Romance of the Swan's Nest_: VIII, 315.
_The Cotter's Saturday Night_: VIII, 319.
_Abou Ben Adhem_: IX, 11.
_Pippa Passes_: IX, 293.
See BALLADS.
NATURE.
_The Brown Thrush_: I, 147.
_Mercy to Animals_: I, 413.
_The English Robin_: II, 214.
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_: II, 399.
_The Lion and the Missionary_: VI, 93.
_The Moss Rose_: VI, 98.
_Elephant Hunting_: VI, 385.
_Some Clever Monkeys_: VI, 402.
_The Petrified Fern_: VII, 77.
_The Buffalo_: VII, 96.
_A Gorilla Hunt_: VII, 247.
_Brute Neighbors_: VII, 260.
_The Pond in Winter_: VII, 280.
_Salmon Fishing_: VII, 285.
_Winter Animals_: VII, 293.
_Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_: VII, 306.
_A Bed of Nettles_: VIII, 209.
_Owls_: IX, 229.
_Robert of Lincoln_: IX, 444.
_Nature Study_: X, 380.
_Nature Study, Analysis and Classification of Selections related to_:
X, 381-393.
_Nearer Home_: IV, 126.
NEWMAN, JOHN HENRY (Cardinal).
Selections: _Definition of a Gentleman_: IV, 170.
_Lead, Kindly Light_: V, 110.
_Night_: III, 431.
NIGHTINGALE, FLORENCE.
Biography: IX, 13.
_Norse Lullaby_: I, 246.
NOVELS (Selections from).
_Robinson Crusoe_: III, 45.
_The Swiss Family Robinson_: III, 99.
_Cast Up by the Sea_:--
_The Escape from Prison_: IV, 130.
_Fabiola_:--
_Pancratius_: IV, 245.
_Ivanhoe_:--
_The Attack on the Castle_: IV, 322.
_The Tournament_: VI, 38.
_Tom Brown's School Days_:--
_Tom Brown at Rugby_: V, 469.
_An Attic Philosopher in Paris_:--
_The Poet and the Peasant_: VI, 206.
_The Family of Michael Arout_: VII, 314.
_Kidnapped_:--
_The Shipwreck_: VI, 371.
_The Last of the Mohicans_:--
_An Exciting Canoe Race_: VII, 79.
_The Mill on the Floss_:--
_Tom and Maggie Tulliver_: VII, 186.
_Treasure Island_:--
_The Recovery of the Hispaniola_: VII, 352.
_Don Quixote_:--
_Don Quixote Prepares to Set Out on His Adventures_: VII, 433.
_The Adventure of the Windmills_: VII, 438.
_Mambrino's Helmet_: VII, 441.
_Don Quixote's Encounter with the Lions_: VII, 448.
_The Adventure of the Enchanted Bark_: VII, 459.
_The Adventure of the Wooden Horse_: VII, 467.
_The Story of the Lashes_: VII, 480.
_Westward Ho!_:--
_How They Took the Gold-Train_: VIII, 180.
_Pickwick Papers_:--
_Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller_: IX, 76.
NURSERY RHYMES: I, 3.
_Nursery Rhymes, Analysis of_: X, 18.
O
ODES.
_To H. W. L._: IV, 84.
_To the Fringed Gentian_: VII, 4.
_To a Mouse_: VII, 5.
_To a Mountain Daisy_: VII, 8.
_Ode to a Skylark_: VII, 275.
_To a Waterfowl_: VII, 395.
_Ode on a Grecian Urn_: IX, 462.
_Ode on a Grecian Urn_: IX, 462.
_Ode to a Skylark_: VII, 275.
_Old Continentals, The_: VII, 175.
_Old Gaelic Lullaby_: I, 203.
_Old Man and Death, The_: II, 9.
_Old Man and His Sons, The_: I, 78.
_Old Oaken Bucket, The_: VII, 11.
_On Comic Songs_: V, 455.
_On the Receipt of My Mother's Picture_: VII, 331.
_Oration, Definition and Study of_: X, 324.
_Oration, Illustrative Study of "A Call to Arms," as a type of_: IX, 481.
ORATIONS.
_The Gettysburg Address_: IX, 321.
_Abraham Lincoln_: IX, 324.
_The Fate of the Indians_: IX, 466.
_A Call to Arms_: IX, 475.
_Origin of the Opal_: II, 480.
_Owl and the Pussy-Cat, The_: I, 339.
_Owls_: IX, 229.
P
PALMER, J. W.
Selection: _"Stonewall" Jackson's Way_: V, 400.
_Pancratius_: IV, 245.
PARKMAN, FRANCIS.
Selection: _The Buffalo_: VII, 96.
_Passing of Arthur, The_: V, 237.
PATRIOTIC POEMS.
_The American Flag_: V, 396.
_"Stonewall" Jackson's Way_: V, 400.
_Bannockburn_: VII, 15.
_The Charge of the Light Brigade_: VII, 147.
_Breathes There the Man_: VII, 151.
_For A' That and A' That_: VII, 149.
_Make Way for Liberty_: VII, 172.
_The Old Continentals_: VII, 175.
_The Picket Guard_: VII, 177.
_Marco Bozzaris_: VIII, 90.
PAYNE, JOHN HOWARD.
Biography: VI, 221.
Selection: _Home, Sweet Home_: VI, 224.
_Pea Blossom, The_: I, 205.
_Père Marquette_: VIII, 121.
PERRAULT, CHARLES.
Adaptations from _Cinderella_: I, 224.
_Hop-O'-My-Thumb_: I, 112.
_Little Red Riding-Hood_: I, 79.
_Personification_: X, 266.
_Persons, in Fiction, Study of_: X, 156.
_Petrified Fern, The_: VII, 77.
_Phaethon, The Story of_: II, 206.
_Picket-Guard, The_: VII, 177.
_Pickwick and Sam Weller_: IX, 76.
_Picture Books in Winter_: II, 87.
_Pictures and Their Use_: X, 36.
_Pictures and Their Value in Literature_: X, 44.
_Pictures in_ Journeys, _On the Use of_: X, 48.
_Pictures of Memory_: IV, 127.
_Pied Piper of Hamelin, The_: III, 384.
_Pilgrim's Progress, The_: IV, 423.
_Pine-Tree Shillings, The_: IV, 192.
_Pippa Passes_: IX, 293.
_Plan and Contents of_ Journeys: X, 7.
_Plan and Contents of Each Volume_: X, 24.
_Plot, in Fiction, Study of_: X, 149.
PLUTARCH.
Selection: _The Death of Cæsar_: IX, 126.
POE, EDGAR ALLAN.
Selections: _Annabel Lee_: VII, 341.
_Descent into the Maelstrom, A_: VIII, 95.
_Gold-Bug, The_: IX, 232.
_Three Sundays in a Week_: VI, 453.
_Poet and the Peasant, The_: VI, 206.
POETRY. See BALLADS; DRAMA; LULLABIES; LYRICS; NARRATIVE POEMS; ODES;
PATRIOTIC POEMS; SONGS; WIT AND HUMOR.
_Poetry, Kinds of_: X, 331.
_Poetry, Reading_: X, 272.
_Polonius' Advice_: V, 112.
_Pond in Winter, The_: VII, 280.
_Poor Richard's Almanac_: VI, 407.
POPE, ALEXANDER.
Selection: _The Universal Prayer_: IV, 172.
_Poppyland Express, The_: II, 21.
_Potato, The_: II, 467.
_Praise of Chimney Sweepers, The_: IX, 66.
PRESCOTT, WILLIAM HICKLING.
Selection: _The Retreat of Cortés_: VIII, 63.
PRONUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES:
Volume I, 487.
Volume II, 491.
Volume III, 487.
Volume IV, 491.
Volume V, 497.
Volume VI, 481.
Volume VII, 485.
Volume VIII, 489.
Volume IX, 489.
_Prose, Kinds of_: X, 318.
_Punishment of Loki, The_: II, 111.
Q
_Queen Alice_: III, 23.
_Queen of the Underworld, The_: II, 468.
QUEEN VICTORIA. See VICTORIA, QUEEN.
_Quotations, One Hundred Choice_: X, 131.
R
RAMEE, LOUISE DE LA.
Selection: _A Dog of Flanders_: IV, 93.
_Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
_Rain_: I, 110.
_Rainbow, The_: VI, 91.
_Rain on the Roof_: IV, 7.
RANDS, W. B.
Selection: _The Child's World_: II, 66.
READ, THOMAS BUCHANAN.
Selections: _Reaper's Dream, The_: VII, 345.
_Sheridan's Ride_: IV, 223.
_Reading, Correlation of_ Journeys _with Study of_: X, 345.
_Reading Aloud_: X, 123, 311.
_Reading and the Building of Character_: X, 85.
_Reading History_: V, 394.
_Reading Poetry_: X, 272.
_Reading Shakespeare_: VIII, 346.
_Reading Stories_: X, 145.
_Reaper and the Flowers, The_: I, 410.
_Reaper's Dream, The_: VII, 345.
_Recessional, The_: VII, 164.
_Recitations and Special Days in School_: X, 436.
_Recovery of the Hispaniola, The_: VII, 352.
_Reminiscences of a Pioneer_: V, 340.
_Retreat of Cortés, The_: VIII, 63.
_Riddles_: I, 72, 202, 245.
RILEY, JAMES WHITCOMB.
Selections: _Afterwhile_: II, 123.
_Away_: IV, 460.
_Let Something Good be Said_: V, 111.
_Rime of the Ancient Mariner, The_: VII, 29.
_Ringrose and His Buccaneers_: VIII, 1.
RINGROSE, BASIL.
Selection: _Ringrose and His Buccaneers_: VIII, 1.
_Rise of Robert Bruce, The_: V, 278.
_Robert of Lincoln_: IX, 444.
_Robin Hood_: III, 436.
_Robin Hood and Little John_: III, 437.
_Robin Hood and the Stranger_: III, 444.
_Robin Hood and the Widow's Three Sons_: III, 449.
_Robin Hood and Allin a Dale_: III, 454.
_Robinson Crusoe_: III, 45.
_Rock-a-by Lady, The_: I, 94.
_Roland at Roncesvalles_: III, 460.
_Romance of the Swan's Nest, The_: VIII, 315.
ROOSEVELT, THEODORE.
Selection: _Abraham Lincoln_: IX, 324.
_Rumpelstiltzkin_: II, 33.
RUSKIN, JOHN.
Selection: _The King of the Golden River_: II, 405.
_Ruth_: VI, 143.
RYAN, FATHER.
Selections: _Better Than Gold_: IV, 1.
_Mother's Way_: IV, 58.
S
_Salmon Fishing_: VII, 285.
_Sands of Dee, The_: I, 412.
SAXE, JOHN GODFREY.
Selection: _Echo_: III, 286.
_Scenes, in Fiction, Study of_: X, 162.
SCOTT, SIR WALTER.
Biography: VI, 26.
Selections: _Attack on the Castle, The_: IV, 322.
_Boat Song_: VII, 17.
_Breathes There the Man_: VII, 151.
_Christmas in Old Time_: VI, 356.
_Lochinvar_: III, 432.
_Rise of Robert Bruce, The_: V, 278.
_Tournament, The_: VI, 38.
_Second Voyage of Sinbad the Sailor, The_: III, 340.
_Seein' Things_: I, 240.
SELLON, GRACE E.
Adaptations: _Frithiof the Bold_: III, 394.
_Pippa Passes_: IX, 293.
_Snow Maiden, The_: I, 257.
_Story of Siegfried, The_: III, 410.
Selections: _Bryant, William Cullen_: VII, 391.
_Hawthorne, Nathaniel_: IV, 180.
_Holmes, Oliver Wendell_: VII, 398.
_Irving, Washington_: VIII, 216.
_Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth_: IV, 62.
_Lowell, James Russell_: VII, 411.
_Scott, Sir Walter_: VI, 26.
_Some Children's Books of the Past_: V, 101.
_Whittier, John Greenleaf_: VII, 381.
_Seven Times One_: II, 119.
SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM.
Biography: VIII, 468.
Selections: _Death of Cæsar, The_: IX, 143.
_Polonius' Advice_: V, 112.
_Tempest, The_: VIII, 364.
SHEALE, RICHARD.
Selection: _Chevy-Chase_: IV, 312.
SHELLEY, PERCY BYSSHE.
Selections: _Cloud, The_: VII, 257.
_Ode to a Skylark_: VII, 275.
_Shepherd Boy and the Wolves, The_: I, 92.
_Sheridan's Ride_: IV, 223.
_Shipwreck, The_: VI, 371.
_Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks_: II, 121.
_Siegfried, The Story of_: III, 410.
_Silver-Locks and the Three Bears_: I, 101.
_Simile, The_: X, 263.
_Sinbad the Sailor, The Second Voyage of._ See _Second Voyage of
Sinbad the Sailor, The_.
_Singing_: I, 83.
_Sir Roger de Coverley_: IX, 371.
_Skeleton in Armor, The_: V, 327.
_Sleep, Baby, Sleep_: I, 204.
SMITH, SAMUEL FRANCIS.
Selection: _America_: VIII, 60.
_Snow Maiden, The_: I, 257.
_Snow Queen, The_: II, 124.
_Sohrab and Rustem_: VI, 157.
_Sohrab and Rustum_: VI, 173.
_Soldier's Dream, The_: VII, 170.
_Some Children's Books of the Past_: V, 101.
_Some Clever Monkeys_: VI, 402.
_"Something"_: I, 395.
_Song of the Brook_: IV, 60.
_Sonnet, Definition of_: X, 337.
SONGS.
_Singing_: I, 83.
_Little Birdie_: I, 142.
_Marching Song_: I, 155.
_The Owl and The Pussy Cat_: I, 339.
_Song of the Brook_: IV, 60.
_Nearer Home_: IV, 126.
_Lead, Kindly Light_: V, 110.
_Battle Hymn of the Republic_: V, 399.
_Annie Laurie_: VI, 119.
_Sweet and Low_: VI, 122.
_The Bugle Song_: VI, 133.
_Home, Sweet Home_: VI, 221.
_Auld Lang Syne_: VI, 228.
_The Old Oaken Bucket_: VII, 11.
_Boat Song_: VII, 17.
_The Star-Spangled Banner_: VII, 167.
_How Sleep the Brave_: VII, 151.
_My Old Kentucky Home_: VII, 179.
_Those Evening Bells_: VII, 340.
_The Three Fishers_: VII, 343.
_America_: VIII, 60.
SOUTHEY, ROBERT.
Selections: _Battle of Trafalgar, The_: VIII, 284.
_Inchcape Rock, The_: V, 465.
_Night_: III, 431.
SOUVESTRE, EMILE.
Selections: _Family of Michael Arout, The_: VII, 314.
_Poet and the Peasant, The_: VI, 206.
SPARKS, JARED.
Selection: _Père Marquette_: VIII, 121.
_Sparrow and the Eagle, The_: II, 8.
SPENCER, WILLIAM R.
Selection: _Beth Gelert_: III, 42.
_Spider and the Fly, The_: III, 19.
SPRAGUE, CHARLES.
Selection: _The Fate of the Indians_: IX, 466.
_Star-Spangled Banner, The_: VII, 167.
STARK.
Selection: _The Modern Belle_: VI, 463.
STEVENSON, ROBERT LOUIS.
Biography: I, 128.
Selections: _At the Seaside_: I, 129.
_Autumn Fires_: I, 394.
_Bed in Summer_: I, 173.
_Block City_: I, 196.
_Cow, The_: I, 106.
_Fairy Bread_: I, 198.
_Foreign Children_: I, 351.
_Foreign Lands_: I, 130.
_From a Railway Carriage_: I, 198.
_Keepsake Mill_: I, 349.
_Land of Counterpane, The_: I, 144.
_Looking Forward_: I, 106.
_Marching Song_: I, 155.
_Modestine_: IX, 403.
_My Bed Is a Boat_: I, 126.
_Picture-Books in Winter_: II, 87.
_Rain_: I, 110.
_Recovery of the Hispaniola, The_: VII, 352.
_Shipwreck, The_: VI, 371.
_Singing_: I, 83.
_Sun's Travels, The_: I, 68.
_Swing, The_: I, 67.
_System_: I, 111.
_Thought, A_: I, 66.
_Time to Rise_: I, 340.
_Where Go the Boats?_: I, 256.
_Whole Duty of Children_: I, 301.
_Wind, The_: I, 440.
_Windy Nights_: II, 123.
_Young Night Thought_: I, 302.
_"Stonewall" Jackson's Way_: V, 400.
_Stop, Stop, Pretty Water_: I, 317.
STORIES.
_A Dog of Flanders_: IV, 93.
_The Pine-Tree Shillings_: IV, 192.
_Gulliver's Travels_: V, 6.
_Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
_A Christmas Carol_: VI, 244.
_Three Sundays in a Week_: VI, 453.
_The Governor and the Notary_: VII, 20.
_A Descent into the Maelstrom_: VIII, 95.
_The Tempest_: VIII, 364.
_The Gold-Bug_: IX, 232.
See ADVENTURE; FAIRY LORE AND FOLK LORE; NOVELS.
STORIES OF ADVENTURE. See ADVENTURE.
_Stories, Reading_: X, 145.
_Stories, Telling_: X, 63.
_Stories of the Creation_: IV, 159.
_Story of Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp, The_: III, 288.
_Story of Esther, The._ See _Esther, The Story of_.
_Story of Joseph, The._ See _Joseph, The Story of_.
_Story of Phaethon, The._ See _Phaethon, The Story of_.
_Story of Ruth, The._ See _Ruth, The Story of_.
_Story of Siegfried, The._ See _Siegfried, The Story of_.
_Studies, Of_: IX, 400.
STUDIES. (The following are selections upon which the studies are
based. In chapter XIX of Volume X the more important studies are
arranged in the order in which the selections appear in the several
volumes.)
_Alfred the Great_: IV, 260.
(Study in History--X, 414.)
_America_: VIII, 60.
_American Flag, The_: V, 396.
_Annie Laurie_: VI, 119.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 243.)
_Ballad of Agincourt_: V, 95.
(Story Told--X, 74.)
_Bannockburn_: VII, 15.
_Barefoot Boy, The_: IV, 3.
(Study--X, 286.)
_Battle of Saratoga_: IX, 176.
(Study in History--X, 419.)
_Boat Song_: VII, 17.
_Boston Massacre, The_: IV, 217.
(Study in Argument--X, 370.)
_Braddock's Defeat_: V, 379.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 227.)
_Brown Thrush, The_: I, 147.
(Study--X, 276.)
_Brute Neighbors_: VII, 260.
(Nature Study--X, 383.)
_Bugle Song, The_: VI, 133.
(Study--X, 287.)
_Call to Arms, A_: IX, 475.
_Chambered Nautilus, The_: IX, 454.
_Child's World, The_: II, 66.
(Study--X, 277.)
_Christmas Carol, A_: VI, 244.
(Study in Scene--X, 168.)
(Study of Picture, _Bob and Tiny Tim_--X, 41.)
_Christmas in Old Time_: VI, 356.
_Cid Campeador_: IV, 9.
(Study in Exposition--X, 368.)
_Cinderella_: I, 224.
(Character Study--I, 238.)
(Complete Study--X, 150.)
_Cloud, The_: VII, 257.
(Study--X, 301.)
_Country Squire, The_: VI, 474.
_Cubes of Truth, The_: VII, 406.
_Cupid and Psyche_: III, 365.
_Daffodils, The_: VII, 1.
_David Crockett in the Creek War_: VIII, 37.
(Study--X, 244.)
_Death of Cæsar, The_: IX, 143.
(Study--X, 253.)
_Definition of a Gentleman_: IV, 170.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 234)
_Descent into the Maelstrom, A_: VIII, 95.
_Dog and His Shadow, The_: I, 63.
(Study on Scene--X, 164.)
_Down Tumbled Wheelbarrow_: I, 46.
(Study of Picture--X, 58.)
_Dream Children: A Revery_: VIII, 335.
_Drummer, The_: I, 303.
(Complete Study--X, 193.)
_Exciting Canoe Race, An_: VII, 79.
(Study in Forms of Expression--X, 376.)
_Expense, Of_: IX, 397.
_Fairies, The_: I, 405.
_Fairies of Caldon-Low, The_: II, 395.
(Story Told--X, 68.)
_Faithless Sally Brown_: III, 92.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 232.)
_Fate of the Indians, The_: IX, 466.
_Fir Tree, The_: II, 68.
(Study of Picture, _The Swallow and the Stork Came_--X, 55.)
(Study in The Lesson and the Author's Purpose--X, 173.)
_First Snowfall, The_: II, 403.
(Study in Figures--X, 270.)
(Complete Study--X, 281.)
_Forsaken Merman, The_: VII, 180.
(Study--X, 295.)
_Fox and the Crow, The_: I, 64.
(Complete Study--X, 187.)
_Fox and the Stork, The_: I, 73.
(Study on Scene--X, 166.)
_Frithiof the Bold_: III, 394.
_Geraint and Enid_: V, 148.
(Study of Picture, _Geraint Hears Enid Singing_--X, 60.)
_Gettysburg Address, The_: IX, 321.
_Gold-Bug, The_: IX, 232.
(Study--IX, 283.)
_Golden Touch, The_: II, 43.
_Gulliver's Travels_: V, 6.
(Study in Close Reading on _Adventures in Lilliput_--X, 235.)
_Hardy Tin Soldier, The_: I, 148.
(Character Study--X, 158.)
_Hare and the Tortoise, The_: I, 71.
(Complete Study--X, 185.)
_Heart of Bruce, The_: V, 316.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 238.)
_Hervé Riel_: VIII, 168.
(Story Told--X, 78.)
_Holger Danske_: II, 377.
_How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_: V, 335.
_Impeachment of Warren Hastings, The_: IX, 32.
(Study--X, 248.)
_In Time's Swing_: II, 481.
_Incident of the French Camp_: IV, 174.
_Industry and Sloth_: I, 300.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 229.)
_Jack and The Beanstalk_: I, 156.
(Study of Picture--X, 52.)
_Keepsake Mill_: I, 349.
_King of The Golden River, The_: II, 405.
(Study--II, 441.)
(Study in Description--X, 366.)
(Complete Study--X, 393.)
_Land of Counterpane_: I, 144.
_Lead, Kindly Light_: V, 110.
(Study--X, 98.)
_Little Blue Pigeon_: I, 133.
_Little Giffin of Tennessee_: IV, 461.
(Story Told--X, 71.)
_Lochinvar_: III, 432.
_Lost Child, The_: VII, 409.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 243.)
_Milkmaid, The_: II, 374.
_My Bed is My Boat_: I, 126.
(Study of Picture--X, 52.)
_My Mother's Picture_: VII, 331.
(Study in Description--X, 367.)
_Ode on a Grecian Urn_: IX, 462.
_Ode to a Skylark_: VII, 275.
(Study in Figures--X, 268.)
(Study in Reading Poetry--X, 306.)
_Old Gaelic Lullaby_: I, 203.
_Old Oaken Bucket_: VII, 11.
_Origin of the Opal_: II, 480.
(Study--X, 285.)
_Passing of Arthur, The_: V, 237.
(Complete Study--X, 214.)
_Petrified Fern, The_: VII, 77.
(Study--X, 291.)
_Phaethon, the Story of_: II, 206.
_Picture Books in Winter_: II, 87.
_Pippa Passes_: IX, 293.
(Study--IX, 316.)
_Pond in Winter, The_: VII, 280.
(Nature Study--X, 384.)
_Poor Richard's Almanac_: VI, 407.
(Study in Character Building--X, 101.)
_Potato, The_: II, 467.
(Study--X, 285.)
_Queen of The Underworld, The_: II, 468.
_Rab and His Friends_: VI, 99.
(Study in Emotional Power--X, 177.)
(Study in Close Reading--X, 225.)
_Reading History_: V, 394.
_Reading Shakespeare_: VIII, 346.
_Reaper and the Flowers, The_: I, 410.
(Study--X, 272.)
_Reapers Dream, The_: VII, 345.
_Recessional, The_: VII, 164.
_Recovery of the Hispaniola, The_: VII, 352.
_Reminiscences of a Pioneer_: V, 340.
(Study--X, 119.)
_Robert of Lincoln_: IX, 444.
_Robin Hood and the Stranger_: III, 444.
(Study in Narration--X, 363.)
_Robinson Crusoe_: III, 45.
(Nature Study--X, 382.)
_Rock-a-By Lady, The_: I, 94.
_Seven Times One_: II, 119.
(Study--X, 278.)
_Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks_: II, 121.
(Study of Picture--X, 54.)
_Snow Queen, The_: II, 124.
(Study on Plot--II, 169.)
_Some Children's Books of the Past_: V, 101.
_"Something"_: I, 395.
_Sweet and Low_: VI, 122.
_Swiss Family Robinson_: III, 99.
(Nature Study--X, 382.)
_Tempest, The_: VIII, 364.
(Studies for The Tempest--VIII, 468.)
_To H. W. L._: IV, 84.
_To My Infant Son_: VI, 478.
_Tom, the Water Baby_: II, 215.
(Study of Picture, _Tom and the Dragon Fly_--X, 55.)
(Study of Story--X, 198.)
(Nature Study Lesson--X, 381.)
_Tom and Maggie Tulliver_: VII, 186.
_Town Mouse and the Country Mouse, The_: I, 199.
_Trees and Ants that Help Each Other_: VII, 306.
(Study--X, 385.)
_Twin Brothers, The_: I, 264.
_Ugly Duckling, The_: I, 414.
_Village Blacksmith, The_: IV, 86.
_Vision of Mirza, The_: IX, 285.
(Study in Notes.)
_Visit from St. Nicholas, A_: II, 202.
(Study in Figures--X, 270.)
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_: II, 399.
(Character Study--X, 95.)
_Why the Sea Is Salt_: II, 484.
(Study in Close Reading--X, 231.)
_Wind and the Sun, The_: I, 95.
(Lesson in Language--X, 357.)
_Winter Animals_: VII, 293.
(Study--X, 384.)
_Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_: I, 262.
(Study of Picture--X, 53.)
_Studies for The Tempest_: VIII, 468.
_Study, or Close Reading_: X, 224.
_Style and Method of the Author, in Fiction_: X, 174.
_Sunken Treasure, The_: IV, 199.
_Sun's Travels, The_: I, 68.
_Sweet and Low_: VI, 122.
SWIFT, JONATHAN.
Biography: V, 1.
Selection: _Gulliver's Travels_: V, 6.
_Swing, The_: I, 67.
_Swiss Family Robinson, The_: III, 99.
_Synecdoche_: X, 265.
_System_: I, 111.
T
TAYLOR, JEFFREYS.
Selection: _The Milkmaid_: II, 374.
_Telling Stories_: X, 63.
_Tempest, The_ (A Tale from Shakespeare): VIII, 348.
_Tempest, The_: VIII, 364.
Studies for: VIII, 468.
TENNYSON, ALFRED.
Selections: _Bugle Song, The_: VI, 133.
_Charge of the Light Brigade, The_: VII, 147.
_Geraint and Enid_: V, 148.
_Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead_: VI, 231.
_Little Birdie_: I, 142.
_Passing of Arthur, The_: V, 237.
_Song of the Brook_: IV, 60.
_Sweet and Low_: VI, 122.
THOREAU, HENRY DAVID.
Selections: _Brute Neighbors_: VII, 260.
_Pond in Winter, The_: VII, 280.
_Winter Animals_: VII, 293.
_Those Evening Bells_: VII, 340.
_Thought, A_: I, 66.
_Three Fishers, The_: VII, 343.
_Three Little Pigs, The_: I, 136.
_Three Sundays in a Week_: VI, 453.
_Three Tasks, The_: I, 247.
_Time to Rise_: I, 340.
_To a Mountain Daisy_: VII, 8.
_To a Mouse_: VII, 5.
_To a Waterfowl_: VII, 395.
_To H. W. L._: IV, 84.
_Tom and Maggie Tulliver_: VII, 186.
_Tom Brown at Rugby_: V, 469.
_Tom, the Water Baby_: II, 215.
_Tom Thumb_: I, 84.
_To My Infant Son_: VI, 478.
_To The Fringed Gentian_: VII, 4.
_Tournament, The_: VI, 38.
_Town Mouse and the Country Mouse, The_: I, 199.
_Travels of Sir John Mandeville, The_: IX, 207.
_Tree, The_: I, 301.
_Trees and Ants That Help Each Other_: VII, 306.
_Twin Brothers, The_: I, 264.
_Two Travelers, The_: I, 109.
_Two Travelers and the Oyster, The_: I, 111.
TYNDALL, JOHN.
Selection: _Ascent of the Jungfrau_: IX, 1.
U
_Ugly Duckling, The_: I, 414.
_Ulysses_: IV, 398.
_Universal Prayer, The_: IV, 172.
V
VERGIL.
Selection: _The Wooden Horse_: IV, 383.
VICTORIA, QUEEN.
Biography: VII, 152.
_Village Blacksmith, The_: IV, 86.
VILLENEUVE, MADAME.
_Beauty and the Beast_ (Adapted): I, 318.
_Vision of Belshazzar, The_: VI, 153.
_Vision of Mirza, The_: IX, 285.
_Visit from Saint Nicholas, A_: II, 202.
W
_Walrus and the Carpenter, The_: III, 36.
WEIR, HARRISON.
Selection: _The English Robin_: II, 214.
_We Plan a River Trip_: V, 443.
_What the Old Man Does Is Always Right_: II, 387.
_Where Go the Boats?_: I, 256.
WHITE, GILBERT.
Selection: _Owls_: IX, 229.
WHITTIER, JOHN GREENLEAF.
Biography: VII, 381.
Selections: _Barbara Frietchie_: III, 347.
_Barefoot Boy, The_: IV, 3.
_Whittington and His Cat_: I, 442.
_Whole Duty of Children_: I, 301.
_Who Stole the Bird's Nest?_: II, 399.
_Why the Sea Is Salt_: II, 484.
_Widow Machree_: VI, 464.
_Wind, The_: I, 440.
_Wind and the Sun, The_: I, 95.
_Windy Nights_: II, 123.
_Winter Animals_: VII, 293.
WISEMAN, CARDINAL.
Selection: _Pancratius_: IV, 245.
WIT AND HUMOR.
_Time to Rise_: I, 340.
_The Cow_: I, 106.
_System_: I, 111.
_Rain_: I, 110.
_Seein' Things_: I, 240.
_Whole Duty of Children_: I, 301.
_The Owl and the Pussy-Cat_: I, 339.
_The Duel_: I, 384.
_The Potato_: II, 467.
_The Milkmaid_: II, 374.
_John's Pumpkin_: III, 1.
_Faithless Sally Brown_: III, 92.
_Echo_: III, 286.
_Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog_: IV, 57.
_The Yarn of the "Nancy Bell"_: IV, 466.
_Katey's Letter_: IV, 470.
_Baron Munchausen_: V, 403.
_The Fiddling Parson_: V, 440.
_We Plan a River Trip_: V, 443.
_On Comic Songs_: V, 455.
_The Modern Belle_: VI, 463.
_Widow Machree_: VI, 464.
_Limestone Broth_: VI, 467.
_The Knock-Out_: VI, 471.
_The Country Squire_: VI, 474.
_To My Infant Son_: VI, 478.
_The Knickerbocker History of New York_: VIII, 224.
_Wolf and the Crane, The_: I, 96.
_Wolf and the Lamb, The_: I, 455.
_Wonderful, Gifts, The_: I, 368.
_Wooden Horse, The_: IV, 383.
WOODWORTH, SAMUEL.
Selection: _the Old Oaken Bucket_: VII, 11.
WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM.
Selection: _My Heart Leaps Up_: IV, 2.
_The Daffodils_: VII, 1.
_Wreck of the Hesperus, The_: IV, 89.
_Wynken, Blynken, and Nod_: I, 262.
WYSS, JOHANN RUDOLPH.
Selection: _The Swiss Family Robinson_: III, 99.
Y
_Yarn of the "Nancy Bell," The_: IV, 466.
_Young Night Thought_: I, 302.
YRIARTE, THOMAS.
Selection: _The Country Squire_: VI, 474.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note
The following corrections have been made:
60 made clear? changed to made clear?)
61 After the childen changed to After the children
75 long been forgotton changed to long been forgotten
94 _Something_, Volume, I changed to _Something_, Volume I
105 Pride breakfasted changed to "Pride breakfasted
121 Pere Marquette changed to Père Marquette
126 you select changed to you to select
145 _2. Reading Stories_ changed to 2. _Reading Stories_
239 hundred years ago. changed to hundred years ago.)
239 What causes it? changed to What causes it?)
242 forty-sixth stanza. changed to forty-sixth stanza?
294 poet when he changed to poet when she
303 are the genii" changed to are the "genii"
303 mean: Wherever changed to mean: "Wherever
313 person can forciby changed to person can forcibly
356 Pere Marquette changed to Père Marquette
363 are easily modifed changed to are easily modified
363 rough and-tumble changed to rough-and-tumble
386 a. Nursery rhymes: changed to _a._ Nursery rhymes:
390 Fox, The Wolf changed to Fox, the Wolf
405 Pere Marquette changed to Père Marquette
434 of his death. changed to of his death.)
452 to subject-matter, changed to to subject-matter.
473 Fennimore changed to Fenimore
479 The Forsken changed to The Forsaken
481 Psyche. changed to Psyche:
483 MYTHS AND LEGENDARY changed to MYTHS and LEGENDARY
485 Pére Marquette changed to Père Marquette
489 SELECTIONS (under Macaulay) changed to Selections
491 a Grecian Urn, changed to a Grecian Urn: (twice)
491 Illustrative Study of "A Call to Arms," as a type of changed to
_Illustrative Study of "A Call to Arms," as a type of_
492 DRAMA: changed to DRAMA;
493 _Queen Victoria._ changed to QUEEN VICTORIA.
494 of the Past. changed to of the Past:
The following words were inconsistently spelled or hyphenated:
Æsop / Aesop
archway / arch-way
Cæsar / Caesar
clearcut / clear-cut
Cortés / Cortez
De la Ramée / de la Ramee
highborn / high-born
lifelike / life-like
mediæval / medieval
Nowadays / Now-a-days
retelling / re-telling
rewritten / re-written
Rock-a-by Lady / Rock-a-By Lady / Rock-a-By-Lady
Rumpelstiltzkin / Rumpelstiltzken
subtitles / sub-titles
Thermopylæ / Thermopylae
today / to-day
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