is of much importance, and it is of no less difficulty. Certainly
it is not merely the mastery of technical obscurities of language,
the solving of philological puzzles, or the careful examination of
historical facts. Thoroughness in these things, as has already been
said, may be exactness in learning about literature, but not in the
study of literature itself. Consideration of the average acquirements
of pupils in secondary schools makes it fairly evident, it seems to
me, that the study of technique in any of its phases cannot in these
classes be carried very far without the danger of its degenerating into
the most lifeless formalism; and perhaps in nothing else is the tact
and judgment of the teacher so well shown as in the decision how far it
is wise to carry study along particular lines. I have never encountered
a class even in my college work which I could have set to the subjects
recommended in a book for teachers of literature which advises drilling
the students of the high school on the relations in the plays of
Shakespeare "of metre to character," whatever that may mean. Neither
should I set them to distinguish, as is advised by another text-book,
between "the kinds of imagination employed: (_a_) Modifying; (_b_)
Reconstructive; (_c_) Poetical: creative, imperative, or associative."
I could not, indeed, do much with such subjects, from the simple fact
that I do not myself know what such questions mean, and still less
could I answer them. Each instructor, however, must decide for himself,
and with every class decide anew. No fixed standard can be established,
but each case must be settled on its own merits.
FOOTNOTES:
[110:1] The vocabulary, of course, being known before the text is
attempted.
[114:1] See page 221.
X
EXAMINATIONAL
Examinations are at present held to be an essential part of the
machinery of education, and whether we do or do not believe this to
be true, we are as teachers forced to accept them. Especially is it
incumbent on teachers in the secondary schools to pay much attention to
accustoming pupils to these ordeals and to preparing them to go through
them unscathed. Many instructors, as has been said already, become so
completely the slaves to this process that they confine their efforts
to it entirely, and few are able to prevent its taking undue importance
in their work and in the minds of their pupils.
The general principle should be kept in mind that no examination is of
real value for itself in the training of youth, and that to study for
it directly and explicitly is fatal to all the higher uses of the study
of literature or of anything else. Tests of proficiency and advancement
are necessary, but they should be regarded as tests, and no pains
should be spared to impress upon every student the fact that beyond
this office of measuring attainment they are of no value whatever.
Examinations exist, however, and nothing which can be done directly is
likely to remove from the minds of sub-freshmen the notion that they
study literature largely if not solely for the sake of being able to
struggle successfully with the difficulties of entrance papers. The
only means of combating this idea is the indirect method of making
the study interesting in and for itself; of nourishing a love for
great writings and fostering appreciation of masterpieces. It may be
added, moreover, that this is also the surest way of securing ease and
proficiency on just those lines in which it is the ambition of pedantic
teachers to have their pupils excel. Classes are more effectively
trained for college tests by teaching them to think, to examine for
themselves, to have real responsiveness and feeling for literature,
than they can possibly be by any drill along formal lines. Here as
pretty generally in life the indirect is the surest.
More is done in the way of preparation for any rational examination,
I believe, by training youth to recognize good literature and to
realize what makes it good, than by any amount of deliberate drill of
especially prescribed works or laborious following out of the lines
indicated by old examination-papers. Much of this is effected by what
has been spoken of as inspirational teaching, the simple training
of children to have real enjoyment of the best. In the lower grades
of school this is all that can be profitably attempted. Before the
student leaves the secondary school, however, he should be able for
himself to make in a general way an application of the principles which
underlie literary distinctions. He should be able broadly to recognize
the qualities which belong to the best work. He should be able from
personal experience to appreciate the force of the remarks of De
Quincey:
What is it that we mean by literature? Popularly, and amongst
the thoughtless, it is held to include everything that is
printed in a book. Little logic is required to disturb this
definition. The most thoughtless person is easily made aware
that in the idea of literature one essential element is some
relation to a general and common interest of man, so that what
applies only to a local or professional or merely personal
interest, even though presenting itself in the shape of a book,
will not belong to literature. . . . Men have so little
reflected on the higher functions of literature as to
find it a paradox if one should describe it as a mean or
subordinate purpose of books to give information. But this is
a paradox only in the sense which makes it honorable to be
paradoxical. . . . What do you learn from "Paradise Lost"?
Nothing at all. What do you learn from a cookery-book?
Something new, something you did not know before, in
every paragraph. But would you therefore put the wretched
cookery-book on a higher level of estimation than the divine
poem? What you owe to Milton is not any knowledge, of which a
million separate items are still but a million of advancing
steps on the same earthly level; what you owe is power, that
is, exercise and expansion to your own latent capacity of
sympathy with the infinite, where each pulse and each separate
influx is a step upward, a step ascending as upon a Jacob's
ladder from earth to mysterious altitudes above the earth.
All the steps of knowledge, from first to last, carry you
further on the same plane, but could never raise you one foot
above your ancient level of earth; whereas the very first step
in power is a flight, is an ascending movement into another
element where earth is forgotten.—"The Poetry of Pope."
If a boy or girl has any vital and personal perception of the truth
which is here so eloquently set forth, this perception affords a
certain criterion by which to judge whatever work comes to hand. It
will also give both the inclination and the power to judge rightly, so
that anything which an examination-paper may legitimately ask is in so
far within the scope of ordinary thought.
I have ventured, in another chapter, to give some idea of the way
in which I think such a work as "Macbeth" might be treated in
the secondary school. I wish to emphasize the fact that it is an
illustration and not a model. It is the way in which I should do it;
but the teaching of literature, I repeat, is naught if it is not marked
by the personality of the teacher. Of the results to be aimed at one
need not be in doubt; concerning the methods there are and there should
be as many opinions as there are sound and individual instructors. This
illustration I have included because it may serve as a sort of diagram
to make plain things which can only clumsily be presented otherwise,
and because I hope that it may be suggestive even to teachers who
differ widely from this exact method.
What is aimed at in this manner of treating the play is primarily
the enjoyment of the pupil, secondarily the broadening of his
mind, and thirdly the training of his powers for the examinations
inevitably lying in wait for him. It may seem contradictory that I
put pleasure first and yet would begin with straightforward drill on
the vocabulary. Such training, however, is preparatory to the taking
up of literature, I believe it necessary to the best results, and
I have already said that to my mind no need exists for making this
dull. Even if it be looked upon as simple drudgery, however, I should
not shirk it. Children should be taught that they are to meet hard
work pluckily. They cannot evade the multiplication-table without
subsequent inconvenience, and the sooner they realize that this is true
in principle all through life, the better for them. Their enjoyment,
moreover, will be tenfold greater if they earn it by sturdy work.
It would be well, I believe, if all teachers in the secondary
schools who are in the habit of concerning themselves largely with
examinations and of allowing the minds of those under them to become
fixed on these could realize that readers of blue-books are sure to
be favorably impressed by two things: by the expression of thoughts
obviously individual, and by the evidence of clear thinking. If these
two qualities characterize an examination-book, the chances of its
passing muster are so large that exact formal knowledge counts for
little in comparison. All teachers who are intelligently in earnest
try to put as little stress on examinations as is possible under
existing conditions, but not all keep clearly in mind the fact that
the best remedy for possible harm is the cultivation of the student's
individuality.
The question of written work in preparation for entrance tests is
a difficult one, and it is one which has been largely answered by
the papers set by the colleges. It is natural that teachers who are
entirely aware that their own reputations will largely depend upon the
success of the candidates they send up should endeavor to train their
classes in the especial line of writing which seems best to suit the
ideas of examiners. The principle of selection is not, it seems to me,
a sound one, but it is inevitable. The one thing which may be done is
to make the topics selected as human and as personal as possible: to
insist that the boy or girl who is writing of Lady Macbeth or Hamlet
shall make the strongest effort possible to realize the character as
a real being; shall as far as possible take the attitude of writing
concerning some actual person about whom are known the facts set down
in the play. This is less difficult than it sounds, and while it is
never entirely possible for a child to realize Lady Macbeth as if she
were a neighbor, most children can go much farther in this direction
than is generally appreciated.
Themes retelling the plot of novel or play are seldom satisfactory.
Satisfactorily to summarize the story of a work of any length requires
more literary grasp than can possibly be expected in a secondary
school. It is far better to set the wits of children to work to fill up
gaps of time in the stories as they are originally written; to imagine
what Macbeth and his wife had said to each other before he goes to the
chamber of Duncan in the second act, for instance, or the talk between
Silas Marner and Eppie after the visit in which Godfrey Cass disclosed
himself as the girl's father. These are not easy subjects, and it is
not to be expected that the grade of work produced will be high, but it
is at least likely to be original and genuine.
Description is a snare into which it is easy for teacher or pupil
to fall. It generally means the more or less conscious imitation of
passages from the reading, or a sort of crazy-quilt of scraps in which
sentences of the author are clumsily pieced together. In the highest
grades good work may sometimes be obtained by asking pupils to describe
the setting of a scene in a play, but this is far too difficult for
most classes.
Examination of character, of situations, or of motives affords the best
opportunity for written work in connection with literary study. To make
literary study subordinate to the practice of composition is manifestly
wrong, yet in many schools this is done in practice even if it is not
justified in theory. Children should be taught to write by other means
than by themes in connection with the masterpieces of literature. The
old cry against using "Paradise Lost," and the soliloquies of Hamlet
as exercises in parsing might well be repeated with added emphasis of
the modern fashion of making Shakespeare and Milton mere adjuncts to a
course in composition. The written work is, of course, to be corrected
where it is faulty, but its chief purpose should never be anything
outside of the better understanding and appreciation of the authors
read.
In a brief, sensible pamphlet on "Methods of Teaching of Novels" May
Estelle Cook remarks:
There is another point which I should like to make for the
study of character, though with some hesitation, since there
is room for great difference of opinion about it. It is this:
that the study of character leads directly to the exercise of
the moral instinct. Whether we like it or not, it is true that
the school-boy—even the boy, and much more the girl—will
raise the question, "Is it right?" and "Is it wrong?" and
that we must either answer or ignore these questions. My own
feeling about it is that this irrepressible moral instinct
was included by Providence partly for the purpose of making a
special diversion in favor of the English teacher. . . . A boy
will read scenes in "Macbeth" through a dozen times for the
sake of deciding whether Macbeth or Lady Macbeth was chiefly
responsible for the murder of Duncan, when he will read them
only once for the story; and this extra zeal is not so much
because he wants to satisfy a craving for facts, as because he
enjoys fixing praise or blame. . . . My experience with the Sir
Roger de Coverley papers has been that the class failed to get
any imaginative grasp of them until I frankly appealed to the
moral instinct by asking, "What did Addison mean to teach in
this paper?" "Did the Eighteenth Century need that lesson?" and
"Do we still need it?" By that process the class have finally
reached a grasp of Sir Roger which has given them fortitude to
write a theme on "Sir Roger at an Afternoon Tea."
My own definition of imagination is evidently not that of the writer,
and I am not able to agree that this appeal to the moral instinct
develops anything other than an intellectual understanding; but that
point is unimportant here. The thing which is to be noted is that
on the moral side children may be able to think intelligently and
individually in regard to the characters and the situations of the
plays and the novels read. The teacher, in choosing such subjects for
written work, must, of course, be careful to avoid topics which have
already been considered in the book itself. In a novel by George Eliot,
for instance, all possible moral issues are likely to be so discussed
and rediscussed by the novelist as to leave little room for the
thought of the reader to exercise itself independently; but in all the
plays of Shakespeare, and in the fiction of most of the masters, the
opportunities are ample.
The supreme test of any subject which is to be given to students in
their written work is whether it is one upon which it is reasonable
to suppose they can and will have thought which is individual and
therefore original. If it were necessary to make nice distinctions
between that which is and that which is not legitimately part of the
study of literature as an art, one must go much further than this. The
writing of themes, however, is part of the examinational side of the
work; the main thing is to be sure that it is not dwelt upon more
than is necessary, and that it is within the range of the personal
experience of the student. If teachers feel compelled to set their
classes to write formal and lifeless themes on pedantic topics such
as too often appear in examination-papers, they will do well to keep
in mind that this is not the study of literature, but a stultifying
process which lessens the power of appreciation and replaces
intelligent comprehension by mechanical imitation.
* * * * *
In connection with the subject of this chapter I may mention a
device which may not be without practical value in secondary-school
examinations. It affords a means of discovering how well the student
is succeeding in grasping general principles and in making actual
application of them; while at the same time it should impress upon him
the fact that he is not studying merely a series of required readings,
but the nature and qualities of literature.
On an examination-paper in second-year English at the Institute of
Technology was put this test:
It is assumed that the student has never read the following
extract. State what seem its excellent points (_a_) of
workmanship; (_b_) of thought; (_c_) of imagination.
To this was added a brief extract from some standard author.
The opening statement was made in order that the class should
understand the selection to be not from any required reading, but from
some work presumably entirely unfamiliar. The points of excellence only
were asked for in order to fix attention on merits; and indirectly
to strengthen, so far as might be, the perception of the importance
of looking in literature for merits rather than for defects. It is
undoubtedly proper that scholars should be able to perceive defects,
but this power is best trained by educating them to be sensitive and
responsive to excellencies.[131:1]
The necessities of time made it impossible to put upon the papers of
which I am speaking extracts of much length, and the class were told
that not much was expected in comment upon the thought expressed.
The purpose of the question, that of seeing how intelligently they
were able to apply such principles as they had learned, was also
frankly put. They were warned against generalities and statements
unsupported. Then they were left to their own devices. The results
were all suggestive, and of course were of widely varying degrees of
merit. A few samples may be given, chosen, I confess, from those more
interesting. On one paper were the opening lines of the second book of
"Paradise Lost."
High on a throne of royal state, which far
Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous east with richest hand
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat.
Among the comments were these:
Of the workmanship of this selection we may say that it is
good. The selection of words is especially forcible. "Gorgeous
east" and "richest hand" are extremely so. But what I consider
a fine use of a word is the word "barbaric." Here we can see
the early inhabitants of the uncivilized rich countries of the
east; the inhabitants ignorant of the value of their wealth,
throwing it around as we would the pebbles on a beach. The
thought and the imagination are good. We can see before us the
vividly portrayed picture. There sits Satan high above his
surrounding in such rich and dazzling magnificence that it
outshines even the richest kings of the richest part of the
world.
* * * * *
The best point of the workmanship consists in placing the
description first and not completing the thought until the last
line; thus keeping the reader in suspense, and causing careful
attention to be put on all the sentence. The words "high,"
"throne," "royal," and "exalted" combine to bring out the
thought of Satan's majesty. The thought of unbounded wealth is
brought out by the use of the word "showers" in the third line.
The author is able to give us a much more vivid idea of the
magnificence of the throne by letting us construct the throne
to suit ourselves than by giving a detailed description and
leaving nothing to the imagination. Even the materials are only
suggested, the whole idea being one of unbounded wealth and
splendor.
* * * * *
The choice of words is one of the best points in the
workmanship of the quotation. The arrangement also adds
emphasis. All the descriptions of the throne are so vivid that
the mind is deeply impressed by the splendor and richness of
the throne. The "gorgeous east" is very expressive of wealth
and beauty. With this arrangement of words the piece becomes
very striking and the choice of the strongest words is shown
too in touch with the whole sentence. Whereas on the other hand
if any other arrangement had been used much of the force of
these words would have been lost. The thought of the extract
is to describe the great wealth and beauty with which Satan is
surrounded. The writer must have a very vivid imagination to
describe such a scene of wealth and beauty. The first word,
"High," appeals directly to the imagination and immediately
gives the impression of power.
These answers were written by boys who had not been called upon to do
anything of the sort before, and while their inadequacy is evident
enough, they are genuine, and are sound as far as they go. Of course,
after such a test, the first business of the teacher is to go over the
selection and to show how he would himself have answered the question.
The class is then ready to appreciate qualities which might be recited
to them in vain before they have set their minds to the problem. In
the examples I have given no one has touched, for instance, upon the
suggestiveness of the words "Ormus" and "Ind," but very little is
needed to make them see this after they have had the passage in an
examination-paper.
A couple of examples dealing with the first two stanzas of Byron's
"Destruction of Sennacherib" may be given by way of showing how a
different selection was treated.
The first thing I noticed in reading the extract was the
perfect rhythm. You cannot read the extract without wanting
to say it aloud. Then the choice of words struck me: "The
_sheen_ of their spears;" "when summer is _green_." It is hard
for me to distinguish workmanship, thought, and imagination.
I cannot tell whether the words and metaphors used in the
extract were the result of deliberate choice and of long
thought; but I strongly suspect that he saw the whole thing in
his imagination, and the words just came to him. It is hard
to understand how anything that reads so smoothly could have
been written with labor. The strongest point of the extract
seems to be its richness in illustration: "The Assyrian came
down like the wolf on the fold." No long, detailed description
could explain better the wildness of such an attack, the sudden
swoop of some half-barbaric horde, striking suddenly, and then
disappearing into the night. "The sheen of the spears was like
stars on the sea." The flash from a spear would be just such a
gleam as the reflected star from the crest of a wave, visible
for a moment and then gone.
* * * * *
Some of its excellent points of workmanship are melody and
selection of words. The melody is excellent. It has a soothing
effect when read aloud, and there is not a place where
one would hesitate in regard to the accenting of words. I
believe the melody is so good that a person only knowing the
pronunciation of the first line could almost read the rest
of it correctly because the sound of each line is so closely
connected with that of all other lines. The selection of words
is very good. There is not a place where a substitution could
be made which would improve the meaning, sense, or melody. The
extract shows great thought. In the last paragraph especially
where the Assyrians are compared to the leaves of summer and
in autumn. No better thought could bring out more clearly how
badly the host was defeated. In the first paragraph it also
compares the Assyrians to a wolf coming down upon a fold.
This again gives a definite idea, and seems to point out how
confident they were of victory. The imagination is very vivid.
You can almost think you were on the field and that all the
events were taking place before you.
I have copied these partly to emphasize the point that it is idle to
expect too much, and partly to illustrate the form in which genuine
perception is likely to work out upon a school examination-paper. These
have not been chosen as the best papers written, but each is good
because each shows sincere opinion.
This sort of question is of course in the line of what is constantly
done in class, but it is after all a different thing when it is made
to emphasize the idea that an examination is a test of the power to
appreciate literature instead of an exercise of memory.
FOOTNOTES:
[131:1] See page 205.
XI
THE STUDY OF PROSE
Method in teaching is properly the adaptation of the personality of
a given teacher to the personality of a given class. It cannot be
defined by hard and fast rules, and the only value in presenting such
illustrations as the following is that they may afford hints which
teachers will be able with advantage to develop in terms of their own
individuality. The way that is wise in one is never to be set down as
the way best for another; and here as elsewhere I offer not a model
but simply an illustration. If it suggest, it has fulfilled a better
purpose than if it were taken blindly as a rigid guide.