GIFT or H.B.Wilson INDIANA READING CIRCLE EDITION TEACHING THE LANGUAGE -ARTS SPEECH, READING, COMPOSITION BY B. A. HINSDALE, Ph. D., LL. D. PROFESSOR OF THE SCIENCE AND THE ART OF TEACHING IN THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN; AUTHOR OF PRESIDENT GARFIELD AND EDUCATION; SCHOOLS AND STUDIES; THE OLD northwest; THE AMERICAN GOVERNMENT; HOW TO STUDY AND TEACE HISTORY ; JESUS AS A TEACHER ; AND EDITOR OF THE WORKS OF JAMES ABRAM GARFIELD WITH COMMENTS BY MRS. SARAH E. TARNEY-CAMPBELL FOR THE SPECIAL USE OF THE INDIANA TEACHERS' READING CIRCLE NEW YORK D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1897 EDUCATION deft; ' i-i r,^^ Bane. ^"^ Copyright, 1896, 1897, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. Electrotyped and Printed AT THE ApPLETON PrESS, U. S. A. EDITOE'S PEEFACE. The author of this volume has, in the course of his discussion of the theory and practice of teaching the lan- guage-arts, thrown light incidentally upon the teaching of all the other branches in the course of study. He has drawn judiciously upon the vast literature of his subject, and enriched his book with insights and keen observa- tions from Aristotle and Quintilian in Greek and Roman times down to Spencer and Lowell of our own day. The book is in this respect a collection of fine thoughts on language — its use, its growth, the study of its mechanics, its grammatical and logical structures, the order of mas- tering its use in speaking, reading, and writing — first in the primary, next in the grammar school, and after in the high school and college ; its place in the cultivation of the powers of thought, the study of literary works of art, the significance of philology among the sciences. In following his discussions, the reader will do well to ponder carefully the distinction made by the author in the second chapter between the mechanism or technique and the theory of the language-arts; also the array of facts drawn from child study in Chapters IV, V, and VI relating to the ideas in possession of the child at six years of age, and to what he acquires and can acquire through imitation. The author is at great pains to discriminate the me- 677807 vi TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. clianical and technical aspects of language study from its liiglier uses for guidance, culture, and discipline, and to give each its due place. The mastering of the mechanical and technical phases performs the great good of placing the child in relation to the repositories of the wisdom of the race so that he can use them. But it is their use, and not the mere possession of skill to use, that enables him to understand and interpret the world, and to penetrate the motives of human nature that govern the conduct of his fellow-men. In Chapters VII, VIII, IX, X, and XIII this higher function of literature is brought out. The prevalent tendency to magnify the means rather than the end to be accomplished leads frequently in school to the error of using so much of the pupil's time in preparing to read — that is, in mere formal reading, the calling of the words found in lessons written in the colloquial style — that little opportunity is left for the practice of the art by reading the great literary works of art. But this error should not be corrected by the opposite extreme — namely, by offering the pupil in his immature years the solidest productions of prose and poetry and neglecting all formal studies with dictionaries, grammars, and spelling books. There are many impractical people who would throw away these formal studies and hope to change the child mind into a mature m.ind at once. The discussion of the practice of paraphrasing in Chapter VIII places the matter in its true light. It is only by paraphrasing the text of the great author — ex- plaining its meaning in his (the pupil's) own words — that the pupil can prove to his teacher that he under- stands it. The teacher in turn can show the felicities of the great writer best by comparison with the pupil's ver- sion, bringing out the superiority of the former in words EDITOR'S PREFACE. vii and diction. It has been truly said that the literary genius invents happy modes of expression for thoughts and feelings which were hitherto unutterable or inarticu- late in the soul. The pupil in studying such gems of expression learns at once the thought or feeling and its happiest conveyance in words — he thinks and feels and expresses for himself what the poet has taught him. But paraphrasing, if used in any way except to verify the pupil's understanding of the author and for teaching him the value of the words and diction used as compared with his, the pupil's own attempts, is mostly wasted time. In recent years there has been much so-called " lan- guage-study " in our schools ostensibly for the purpose of teaching the pupil how to write or compose with facility. He has been set at work writing numerous commonplace sentences about commonplace things. The result of this language-study has been described not inaptly as " gab- ble." The practice is a better one if it requires the pupils to write out in a connected manner what they have learned, say, on the occasion of a weekly written examina- tion, or, still better, to write out their ideas gained by reading and studying literary models. The dignified con- tent requires a dignified form. To write commonplace ideas in choice language always borders on the ridiculous. On entrance into school at the age of six or seven years, the child knows only the words and forms of dic- tion of the colloquial vocabulary. He has before him the hard task of mastering the new method of expressing words — that of script and printing; heretofore he has known words only as addressed to his ear. It is obviously the true method to tej,ch him first the printed or written forms of colloquial words only — words already familiar to his ear. As soon, however, as this first mechanical stage can be passed, the pupil should begin the work on the Tiii TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. literary pieces. Each literary author has peculiarities of style, and draws words from the vocabulary outside of the colloquial list. He makes those partly unfamiliar words perform miracles of expression. The child should go on mastering one after another the one hundred or more pieces of fine writing which are generally to be found selected and edited for the school readers, although often mingled with other " pieces " that are of inferior merit. The teacher can, by a judicious use of books prepared for home reading, make the short selection in the reader an introduction to the reading of the whole work of literary art at home. A discussion of Gulliver's Lilliput or The Lady of the Lake will be a very profitable exercise in school after several pupils have read the entire work. Dr. Hinsdale has, in Chapter XV, noted the fact that the teaching of English literature in our schools has be- gun hitherto with its history. It has been not a study of literature so much as a study about literature. It is hoped that this evil is in process of removal. W. T. Harris. Washington, D. C, April 20, 1896. AUTHOK'S PKEFACE. SiN'CE this work was written, and since much of it was put in type, the teaching of English in the schools of the country has once more been brought prominently to the public attention. Eeference is made to the late Report of the Committee on Composition and Rhetoric to the Board of Overseers of Harvard College, and the comments that it has called out in the press.* Remarks on the present state of English teaching will be found scattered through the following pages, but it seems desirable in this preface to take a broader view of the subject. The * Report of the Committee on Composition and Rhetoric to the Board of Overseers of Harvard College (1892). The Classics and Written English, C. F. Adams, Harvard Grad- uates' Magazine, vol. i, p. 177. The Root of the Evil, W. W. Goodwin, Harvard Graduates' Magazine, vol. i, p. 189. Report of the Committee on Composition and Rhetoric to the Board of Overseers of Harvard College, April, 1895. College English, The Nation, September 26, 1895, p. 219. School English, W. W. Goodwin, The Nation, October 24, 1895, p. 291. School English, C. F. Adams, The Nation, October 31, 1895, p. 309. College English, Caskie Harrison, The Nation, October 31, 1895, p. 310. A Plea for the Study of Latin Grammar, X, The Nation, Novem- ber 21, 1895, p. 362. ix X TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. new report from Harvard, like the former one of the same committee, is not devoted to the broad subject of teaching English, but to the narrow subject of teaching composition. My own remarks will be similarly limited. The main fact that is pressed home by the first re- port and reaffirmed by the second one is, that as the Eng- lish department at Harvard " is organized, under the ex- isting standards of examination, the college seems com- pelled, during the Freshman year, to do a vast amount of elementary educational work which should be done in the preparatory schools." And this view seems to be gener- ally accepted. The impression that has been made upon many minds, to the effect that the Harvard authorities hold college preparation in English now inferior to what it was for- merly, has no support in the documents. The contention is rather that the present preparation is discreditable to the young men who come to Harvard, and the reverse of satisfactory to the schools from which they come, but no comparison with earlier times has been made or suggested. Manifestly such a comparison would be peculiarly diffi- cult to make and of uncertain value, owing to the tend- ency of men in adult life to carry back into boyhood their later ideals and standards, and thus to mislead both themselves and others. It is possible that prepara- tion in English for admission to Eastern colleges is in- ferior to what it once was, but if the mass of the Amer- ican people are not better instructed in English than they were a half century ago or a quarter of a century ago, the fact is very discouraging, because constantly increased attention has been bestowed upon it in the schools. Men who pass an intelligent judgment on the college preparation of Freshmen must first answer the question, " How much should be expected of young men and AUTHOR'S PREFACE. xi women at the age of nineteen ? " In the case of English the answer will be found more difficult than in the case of most or all of the other studies. It is easy for prac- tised writers, like the Harvard Committee and Professor Goodwin, far removed as they are in memory from their own personal struggles to learn to write, and far removed also from the practical teaching of English in the schools, to look for more than can be reasonably accomplished. For example, after remarking that the average student in the Freshman class is two years older than formerly, the committee said in its first report : " It would certainly seem not unreasonable to insist that young men nine- teen years of age who present themselves for a college education should be able not only to speak, but to write their mother tongue with ease and correctness." Correct- ness is now the note of English prose style. Further- more, " ease and correctness " is a relative expression, and one can not tell just how much the committee means by it. But if the ease and correctness of the practised writer is what the committee has in mind, it is much mistaken. The obvious parallel between speech and writing must not be unduly pressed. The majority of men, even edu- cated men, never become as proficient in writing as they do in speech. Perhaps they could attain to the same pro- ficiency if they had the same practice in the one art as in the other, but this is an impossibility. The num- ber of men called educated who can not write good Eng- lish with ease, or even at all, is proportionately large. One could wish to see- a collection of the verbatim and facsimile compositions of four or five hundred professional men, including a proportional number of college pro- fessors, written under circumstances similar to those that attended the writing of the exercises that are reproduced in the two reports. There are marked differences in per- xii TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. sons ; but for the average student who goes to college to create, and then to maintain, anything that deserves to be called a stjle, is one of the severest tests of mental cul- tivation. Again, Professor Goodwin, commenting on some translations that he quotes, remarks : " There is one charge that can not be brought against the writers. They have surely not neglected their English for Greek. They are simply trying to translate from one unknown tongue into another." This remark suggests that translation is a se- vere test of ability to compose. The translator carries jjn a double struggle : one is to get at the thought of the origi- nal, the other to express this thought in the vernacular. It has often been remarked that translations by great poets are inferior to their original work. Translations should indeed be held up to Professor Goodwin's test, but many a schoolboy has found that either one of the two struggles involved a sufficient tax upon his powers. So much it has seemed wise to say by way of moder- ating exaggerated ideas of schoolboy English ; but the fact still remains that the English of the college Fresh- man is bad. Professor Goodwin scouts the idea that the preparatory schools that send pupils to Harvard have sin- gled out the mother tongue for neglect and contempt. ]N"othing could be further from the truth than to think that the neglect of English is justified by the high stand- ard of scholarship in Latin, Greek, and mathematics. " A similar test applied to any other department," he says, " would disclose a state of things in the lower ranks of scholarship which would be proportionally disreputable." There can be no doubt that the average American student at the age of nineteen, brought up in the secondary schools, is as much behind the English or Continental student of the same age in ability to compose in his mother tongue as he is in ability to perform other scholastic work. Pro- AUTHOK'S PREFACE. xiii fessor Goodwin says that boys of that age who come to Harvard College in most cases " are barely prepared to pass an examination which boys of sixteen or seventeen would find easy work in England, Germany, France, or Switzerland." He says, further, that at " Westminster School, London, boys of from fifteen to eighteen are study- ing Homer, ^schylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Aristophanes, Lysius, Plato, Lucretius, Terence, Horace, Cicero, St. Augustine, St. Cyril, with algebra, trigonometry, conic sections, statics, and dynamics." Much of this work is not required for admission to Oxford and Cambridge, but it all counts for honours. The Professor says further : " There is no hope of a substantial change for the better until the elementary studies which now occupy the time from fifteen to nineteen are put back where they belong, so that young men can devote themselves in earnest to studies which belong to their age." From this point of view, therefore, the question. Why is the English teaching in the secondary schools bad ? is expanded into the broader one. Why is our secondary education as a whole bad ? This question has been much discussed the last few years, and in the course of the discussion it has been dis- covered that, in large part, the trouble lies below the sec- ondary-school level. The Harvard Committee and Pro- fessor Goodwin tend to excuse the secondary teachers from blame for the bad preparation of students for college. The trouble, they say, is with the " system." This is ex- tending the investigation to the elementary scliools, which leads to the remark that the shortening and enrichening of the elementary course has been a favourite topic at educational meetings and in educational journals for some time past. I shall set down very briefly what appear to me to be the principal reasons why the American boy of nineteen, considered as a scholar, is two years in the xiv TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. rear of the German, French, or English boy of the same age. 1. The courses of study that lead French and German boys to the university have been brought to a high degree of perfection. The studies have been so selected and so co-ordinated that time is saved all along the line. For example, in the German gymnasium Latin begins at ten and Greek at twelve, while modern languages are brought in at an early stage, thus assisting materially the mastery of German. The gymnasium is not a finishing school, but every step from the first one is bent toward the university. Practically the same may be said of the French and English schools. In the United States, on the other hand, secondary courses of study have not been as well thought out and tested. Moreover, the double function of many of our schools, and particularly of high schools, has impaired their efficiency in both spheres. Eeference is made, of course, to the fact that these schools are at the same time finishing_schools_jfor-lifQ, and fitting schools for college. To be sure, the courses of study in- tended for the two purjDoses more or less vary. AVhether this impairment of the American school is inherent in the system or is due to defective co-ordination, need not be considered here. The facts may be put in another way. In European countries schools are based on the existing social organiza- tion. The aim is to provide education for those youths who will pass out of school at thirteen or fourteen years of age, for those who will pass out of it at eighteen or nineteen, and for those who are destined for the higher institutions of instruction. These pupils are not taught together as far as the first class go, and the remainder are not all taught together as far as the second class go, but to a great extent are separate almost from the time that AUTHOR'S PREFACE. xv they go to school, and are taught with reference to their supposed destination. All kinds of pupils may be taught together for the first three years, but this is not neces- sarily, or indeed commonly, the case. This is what may be called the "three-pyramid plan" of organizing schools. " The three courses of instruction," says Dr. Fitch, " pri- mary, secondary, and higher, may be compared to three pyramids of different sizes, though all in their way sym- metrical and perfect ; but you can not take the apex of the larger pyramid and set it on the top of the smaller. You may indeed fit on, with a certain practical conven- ience, the top of the higher scheme of education to the truncated system of the lower, provided you go low enough," etc. Our State school systems are organized on the one:^ranii(Lplan. The comparative merits of the two plans for general purposes is a topic aside from the present purpose. But the three-pyramid plan has t\vo_ obvious advantages. Qne. is that courses of instruction can be made out with sole reference to completeness in them- selves, and the other that the abler pupils, who are the ones destined for college as a rule, are put by themselves, and so can move, even in elementary studies, at their own natural rate of speed. How far our social conditions would justify an attempt to reorganize our schools on this plan, and how far studies that are now taught exclusively in the secondary schools can be brought down into the ele- mentary grades, are very interesting questions. For one, I look with considerable confidence to the experiments now being made in the second direction. 2. The teachers in the foreign schools, as a class, are superior to ours. They are better prepared to do their work, and they do it better. This preparation includes better scholarship, more distinct ideals, and superior teach- ing ability. These teachers know just what is expected of xvi TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. them, and know tliej will be held responsible for the re- sult. It is needless almost to refer to the fact that, on an average, they pursue their work for a much longer period of time. 3. National tone is a not unimportant factor in the question. The industrial, commercial, and political ten- sion of American society is the highest known in the world. In this respect we are keyed up to the highest note. But in science, philosophy, and literature — that is, in the intellectual sphere proper — our tension is dis- tinctly lower than that of England, France, or Germany. The average intelligence may be as high in this country, or even higher, but our higher culture so called is.,.of_a lower grade. The high intellectual tension of the edu- cated class abroad is felt in the schools. There now lies before me a description of a German gymnasium written by a student of my acquaintance who passed through it, and I doubt whether there is a city in the United States where a school with such a regimen could be maintained. The key is too high for American life as now attuned. What has been said about general culture is particu- larly applicable to the language-arts, — speech, reading, and composition, which are a very delicate test of person- al cultivation. I have not hesitated to avow the opinion (page 54) that the relatively low standard of culture prevail- ing in the country, including teachers as well as pupils, is in large measure the cause of the low state of these arts in the schools. There is perhaps reason to think that the average cultivation of college students, including English, is lower than it was fifty years ago. Were not college students a more select body then than they are now ? Did they not better represent the highest cultivation of the country? Have not the great increase of wealth, the enormous material improvements that have been effected, AUTHOR'S PREFACE. xvii and the growth of population, together with the democra- tizing of society, tended appreciably to make American college students, as a whole, a more heterogeneous class of persons ? What is the final conclusion ? That we should remain satisfied with the teaching, and particularly the English teaching, as it is to-day ? By no means. The present work has been written in the faith that improvement is attainable. Two or three practical remarks may be made on this point. First. In the following pages I have laid constant stress on imitation in teaching the language-arts. Good models are insisted upon, I fear, to the weariness of the reader. Practice under suitable correction has also been emphasized. Remarking upon the proficiency in baseball and other athletic sports of the boys who come to Har- vard College, the committee asks how it is acquired, and replies that it does not come by studying rules printed in books devoted to athletic sports, or by listening to lectures on curves and the like, but by practice. " It is only through similar, daily, and incessant practice," says the committee, " that the degree of facility in writing the mother tongue is acquired, which always enables the stu- dent or adult to use it as a tool in his work." Secondly. The use of the word " tool " suggests a se- rious defect in many American schools. There is a great difference between set formal exercises in any art as an end in itself and the habitual use of the same art as a means or instrument to accomplish some other end. Mr. 0. F. Adams, chairman of the committee, like many others, has remarked the difference between formal class spelling and spelling in ordinary writing. The same dis- tinction may be ^made in respect to pennjanship and drawing. How very different the writing that children s^>^ xviii TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. put in their familiar letters is from the writing that they put in their copy-books ! And the same in composing. '' For want of practice," says Mr. Adams, " the scholar does not carry into his other and daily work the results of his teaching. He can write a formal composition, such as it is ; he can not render Greek or Latin into English." This is the crux of school composition. Nothing but plenty of writing, and particularly non-formal or extem- poraneous writing, as in the daily work of the school under a moderate tension of criticism, will transmute the pupil's specific skill into formal skill. How wide the dis- tance between the set composition and the extemporane- ous composition of the common pupil or student! We need more extemporaneous composition in the schools. In this respect the German or the English student is dis- tinctly better off than his American cousin. The third and last suggestion is that much current language teaching affects English composition unfavour- ably. " Sight reading," which rests on the assumption that the student should understand the author in the original, has for some time been the vogue in preparatory schools. X points out very clearly that the revolt from the grammar and dictionary has gone so far that a posi- tive deterioration of both classical and English scholar- ship has often resulted. He says students who come to Harvard, and picked ones, too, " have not even a con- ception of what accurate work means. They have ob- tained by practice a kind of knack of guessing at the meaning of a sentence; but in most cases they see it ' through a glass darkly,' often very darkly." This writer thinks, accordingly, that some of the emphasis recently given to sight reading should be withdrawn, and more stress be laid on thoroughness. The traditional impor- tance assigned to translation as an English exercise may AUTHOR'S PREFACE. xix be exaggerated. No doubt translation is sometimes a positive loss to the pupil's English rather than a gain, undoing, owing to slipshod methods, what formal in- struction has done. Still, good translation is an impor- tant ally of the English teacher. The purpose and scope of the present work are stated in the introductory chapter. While nothing more is called for on that head, a few words concerning its origin are deemed pertinent. More than ten years ago, while serving as Superin- tendent of the Public Schools of Cleveland, Ohio, my at- tention was closely drawn to the nature and relation of speech, reading, language lessons, composition, and lit- erature. I gave much thought to methods of instruction, and particularly to the correlation of the several lines of teaching. Afterward, when called to my present position, it became my duty to give instruction on these subjects as part of a course in the art of teaching. I now came more clearly to conceive of these arts as a distinct group by themselves, and to assign a new importance to imitation, and especially unconscious imitation, in learning them. Thus there gradually grew up, within the course referred to, a series of lectures denominated Lectures on Teach- ing the Language- Arts. These lectures, revised and ex- tended, comprise this work. Whatever may be its merits, it has grown out of practical experience, and has been matured by reflection. Those teachers who are abreast of the best current practice in the schools will find nothing in the book relat- ing to method that is very novel or original. The claim to merit must rest on these particulars : Firati the clear conception and description of speech, reading, and com- position as arts ; secondly, the large place assigned to use XX TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. and wont, to models and imitation, and the small place to reflective art in teaching them; and, thirdly^ the grounding of the several teaching processes in the funda- mental facts of human nature. In other words, this is a book of principles illustrated by methods rather than of 'v^methods illuminated by principles. If this claim be al- lowed, I do not hold it to be a slight merit. With noth- ing do the teachers of the country stand in need of closer familiarity than with educational principles. Principles do not supersede methods ; facts, rules ; theory, practice ; science, art: but principles, facts, theory, and science must, in the long run, govern and control all practical applications. I have not therefore sought to add another to the list of " Lessons " and " Exercises " in English, " Composition Books," and the like, which is already so long, but rather to show the ends to which such books should look, the methods to which they should conform, and the reasons for such conformity. Exhaustive treatment has not been aimed at. The purpose has been to confine the discussion to schools ; and if much of it has an application to col- leges, as indeed it has, the reason is that the leading principles set forth are unlimited by grade lines, but are continuous. My thanks are due to my friend Professor I. K. Dem- mon for valuable aid in preparing this work. I have had the benefit of his criticism on many special features of the work, and, what has been of greater value, have en- joyed repeated opportunities to discuss the subject with him in its general bearings. B. A. HllTSDALE. The University of Michigan, December 14, 1895. CONTEI^TS. PAGE Editor's Preface v Author's Preface ix CHAPTER I. The Scope of the Present Work 1 The Lindley Murray conception of grammar, 1, 2 ; Professor Greene's books, 2, 3 ; the present state of English in the schools, 3, 4 ; aims of the present work, 4, 5. CHAPTER II. The Language-Arts Defined 6 Science and art, 6 ; two phases of art, 6 ; the school studies and school arts discriminated, 7, 8 ; the two phases of the language- arts, 9, 10 ; effects of wrong classification, 10, 11. CHAPTER III. The Vernacular as an Educational Instrument . . .13 Language and mind, 12-14; language a factor in national culture, 14, 15 ; a factor in individual culture, 15-18 ; Professor Laurie and Dr. Schurman quoted, 18-20. CHAPTER IV. The Work of the Elementary School 21 The child's mental possessions at the age of six, 21, 22 ; the work of the primary teacher, 22-24 ; authorities quoted on vocabularies of children, note^ 24, 25. CHAPTER V. The Origin of the Child's Knowledge . . . . .26 Fundamental facts of the mind stated, 26-28 ; the child's ideas at the age of six grouped, 28-32. xxi xxii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. PAGE The Origin of the Child's Language 33 The child's instinctive vocal utterance, 33, 34 ; the child uses his voice to express mental states, 34, 35 ; the office of imitation, 35- 39 ; no trace of rule or formal method, 40 ; authorities quoted on imitation, note^ 40-42. CHAPTER Vn. The Language-Arts in the Lower Grades . . . .43 Professor Laurie's analysis of language, 43, 44 ; child first deals with language as substance of thought, 44, 45 ; methods of in- struction : conversations, stories, object lessons, reading lessons, selections of poetry memorized, and written exercises, 45-50 ; eth- ical value of language lessons, 50, 51 ; association, 51, 52 ; rules, 53 ; language agents classified, 53, 54. CHAPTER VIIL The Language-Arts in the Higher Grades and in the High Schools 55 Changes of school regimen to come slowly, 55 ; former methods to be employed, 56 ; copying and dictation, composing themes, paraphrasing, imitation of chosen models, and translation, 56-61 ; etymologies, 61-63 ; history in words, 63-65. CHAPTER IX. The Art of Reading 66 The printed page, 66, 67 ; relation of the author to his composition, 67 ; the function of the reader, 67-70. CHAPTER X. Reading and Mental Cultivation 71 Relation of reading to guidance studies, 71, 72; to disciplinary studies, 72, 73 ; to culture studies, 73, 74 ; to general literature, 74-77 ; Mr. Lowell and Professor Norton quoted, note^ 77, 78. CHAPTER XL Requisites for Reading 79 The threefold preparation, 79 ; attention to be paid to each re- quirement, 80 ; Professor Blackie on our original knowledge, 80, CONTENTS. xxiii 81 ; apperception, 81, 82 ; the reader to have one life with the au- thor, 82-85 ; value to the child of acquaintance with Nature, 85. CHAPTER XII. Teaching Reading as an Art 86 The symbolism of the printed page, 86, 87 ; the vocal values of the symbols, 87, 88 ; significance of the symbols, 88-90 ; reading not at first a source of new ideas, 90, 91 ; rules, 92 ; Professors Dowden and Corson on reading aloud quoted, 92, 93 ; Mr. Elisha Ticknor quoted, note, 93. CHAPTER XIII. Teaching Reading as Thought 94 First teaching of reading an homogeneous exercise, 94, 95 ; the work begins to differentiate, 95 ; the reading lesson, 95, 96 ; the pu- pil's study of the lesson, 96 ; the teacher to study with the class, 97 ; reading lessons to be connected with other sources of cultivation, 98 ; the study of definitions, 98-101 ; testing pupils, 101-103 ; re- marks on school readers and the child's reading matter, 103-106 ; freedom and criticism, 106, 107 ; illustrative lessons, 108-111. CHAPTER XIV. Teaching Composition 112 The old regime, 112 ; definition of composition and its relations, 118, 114 ; difficulty of the art, 114 ; natural gifts and practice, 116, 116; practical suggestions for the teacher : training in language lessons, pupil's interest to be enlisted, choice of a subject, the teacher to choose and assign subjects, the teacher to instruct in the modus of composition, making outlines, rules, and criticisms, 117-124; relation of thought material to thought expression, 124, 125 ; the intensive plan, 125, 126 ; Dr. Franklin's style and the value of the art of composition, 126, 127. CHAPTER XV. Teaching English Literature ....... 128 The object or aim to be held in view, 128 ; Mr. Quick's definition of literature, 128, 129 ; the two aspects of literature, substance and art, to be held together, 130, 131 ; subordinate aspects, 131; false ideals, 132-134 ; Mr, Hudson's model, 134, 135 ; the subordination xxiv CONTENTS. PAGE of grammar, philology, etc., to literary elements, 136 ; discursive study and intensive study to be combined, 136, 137 ; literature and recitations, 137, 138 ; literature and examinations, 138, 139 ; haste in education, 139 ; history of literature, 140 ; teachers some- times too ambitious, 141 ; why literature should be taught in the schools, 141, 142. CHAPTER XVI. The Function of English Grammar 147 Ancient defliiition of grammar, 147, 148 ; Murray's and Kirkham's Grammars, 149 ; traditionary view of grammar false, 150 ; gram- mar a science, 151, 152 ; causes that broke down the authority of the scholastic grammar, 153-155 ; reasons for studying grammar : confers knowledge of the vernacular, 156 ; has disciplinary value, 156-158; is the logic of speech, 159 ; influences practice through mental activity, 160 ; relation of study of grammar to use of the vernacular, 161-165 ; practical suggestions for teachers, 165-167 ; illustrative exercise, 168-170. CHAPTER XVII. The Function of Rhetoric 171 Definitions quoted, 171-173 ; rhetoric a threefold study, 174 ; has disciplinary value, 175 ; has culture value, 176 ; rules of rhetoric of two kinds, mechanical and psychological, 177 ; rules for punc- tuating and capitalizing, 178 ; psychological rules, 176-180 ; Her- bert Spencer's Essay on The Philosophy of Style quoted, 180, 181 ; Professor Minto quoted, 182 ; rhetoric in the high school, 183, 184. CHAPTER XVIII. The Function of Criticism 185 Criticism a practical art, 185 ; causes of the difficulty of the sub- ject, 185-188 ; the problem involves the harmonizing of criticism and freedom, 188, 189 ; practical suggestions : early criticism must rest on authority, 189 ; must be repeated, 189 ; must be conducted with reference to child's age and progress, 189, 190 ; teacher not to expect too much, 190 ; rules and reasons to be gradually intro- duced, 190, 191 ; the spirit of criticism, 191, 192 ; many exercises to pass without review, 192; pupil to play the critic of himself, 193, 194 ; the " Nature" rules discussed, 194^197. COxNTENTS. XXV CHAPTER XIX. PAGE Teachers of the Language-Arts 199 Qualifications of primary teachers, 199, 200 ; the special teacher question, 200 ; report of the conference on English quoted, 200, 201 ; co-operation of teachers and special exercises, 201, 202 ; qualifications of the teacher of literature, 202. Bibliography 203 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. CHAPTER r, '•/ • ' • THE SCOPE OF THE PRESENT WORK. LiNDLEY Murray spoke in accordance with the tra- dition that had been delivered to him when, at the close of the last century, he gave this definition: "English grammar is the art of speaking and writing the English language with propriety." It might at first seem that, starting with such a definition, the learned author would have given the world a practical rather than a scientific book — something like the books on Composition and Language Lessons that, in recent years, have poured into the schools like a flood. He did nothing of the kind. There could hardly be a wider gap between the definition of a subject and a treatise devoted to its discussion than the gap which lies between Murray's definition and the body of his English Grammar. He first declares grammar to be pure art or practice, and then treats it as pure science or theory. The same inconsistency appears in all the writers and teachers of that period. The grammatical tradition that these writers and teachers had received, was not suffered to influence the practice of the schools of the old regime. For example, the teachers devoted a great deal of time to parsing. The better pupils became profi- 1 2 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. cient ill " parting " — that is, classifying — words ; in declin- ing, conjugating, and comparing them ; in detecting and pointing out " agreement " and " government," and in applying rules of syntax which, it is fair to say, they did not half the time at all understand. There are many persons still living who went through much or all of Paradise Lost or the Essay on Man, or perchance The Course of Titt^Gj ^^ this way. All this, it is almost super- fiuous to say, was purely theoretical work. The correc- tion of fai^se syntax, to which much time was given, was the only point at which the pupil touched practice at all ; and there is great reason to fear that this exercise was harmful quite as often as it was beneficial. Beyond this little was done in the schools in the broad field of what we now call " English " and the " study of English." Below the college, grammar reigned supreme. Essay- writing was practised in some schools. Besides the exer- cises in reading, which were of course important, no at- tention was given to English literature, either in the schools or in the colleges. t<^/' It is now generally admitted, at least by competent L£^<.vt^^ j,. authorities, that the Lindley Murray view of grammar is mainly false, and that the subject, taught in the tradi- tionary way, has small practical value. 'No doubt the scholastic grammar was of much benefit to many pupils, as I shall point out in a future chapter ; but here I must sketch the movement of ideas and the changes of school practice from the old days of formal grammar down to the present time. 34*t«„,^^5p ci^The ^^^^ ^'^^^ ^^®P foi'ward was the introduction into the scnools of sentence analysis. Parsing now began to fall into the background, though by no means as rapidly as could have been desired. Professor S. S. Greene con- tributed more to this end than any other writer that can THE SCOPE OF THE PRESENT WORK. 3 be named. His books, and especially his Treatise on the^^^ Structure of the English Language; commonly called i^^^^^i " Greene's Analysis," exerted an influence upon authors and teachers that was both widespread and salutary. He had the great merit of giving prominence to synthetic or constructive work, limited, however, to sentence-build- ing. He was the real author of the most generally ac- cepted system of analyzing and classifying English sen- tences and their component parts. In the preface of his Analysis (1847) Greene enumerated some of " the numer- ous advantages arising from studying grammar, or rather language, through the structure of sentences"; but these advantages- are all of a disciplinary character. In the An- alysis he adheres to the old definition of grammar ; but in his Introduction to the Study of Grammar (1867) he frankly says, " English grammar treats of the principles of the English language." Professor Greene's books and those modelled after them prepared the way for the next step forward. This step ^*v»4 consisted of what are technically called "Language Les- sons," and sometimes merely " Language." These lessons are, in fact, nothing but an expansion of the synthetic work that has already been mentioned. The appearance in the school curriculum of " Eng- -/- lish " in the technical sense marks the last movement along this line of study. The word means sometimes more and sometimes less. In its wide scope it includes language ufU lessons, composition, Anglo-Saxon or Old English, for- ^-^ mal and historical grammar, rhetoric, literature, and the history of literature. In its narrow scope it is confined .^^^^ to composition and literature and closely related subjects. In no department of study have the schools recently seen more dissatisfaction, more unrest, and more experi- ment than in this one. Everything is in a flux : authors, 4: TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. ^-^ I superintendents, and teachers seem to appreciate that ^^r something bearing the name of English must constitute a ^ ' marked feature of the schools ; but they do not, as classes / at least, see clearly what it should be, or how it should be taught. As a whole, the schools are feeling their way ; as a body, teachers are wasting a great deal of their own and their pupils' time and energy in efforts more or less aimless and misdirected ; and there is little probability of the return of that unity and satisfaction which so strongly marked the Lindley Murray regime. Two things are clear : one is that the old regime can not be brought back ; the second is that to teach English successfully re- quires a combination of cultivation, taste, judgment, and practical skill which is not found in the common teacher of the subject. Ability to state with positiveness what an ideal course should be, is not necessary to qualify one to affirm that, while there are some good teachers and more mediocre ones, the major part of the English work done in schools at the present time is unsatisfactory. Eeversing the order of statement, such is the present status of English in the schools, and such the steps that have led up to it. This account has not been given be- cause of any historical interest or value that it may pos- sess, but rather as an introduction to a statement of the aims and purposes of the present work. These are as follows : — v4/^?,vw\. 1. To state fully and illustrate clearly the principles ^^ . that underlie all practical language culture, whether it ^ ^ assumes the form of speech, reading, or composition — jtl*uuvv^">\-^rjiat I have ventured to call the language-arts. 2. To emphasize the value of such culture — the edu- cation that grows directly out of the use and study of the vernacular. 3. To present to teachers some methods and devices THE SCOPE OF THE PRESENT WORK. 5 that, intelligently followed, will enable them to carry on the child's instruction in the language-arts in harmony with the underlying principles. These methods and devices cover in a general way the whole field up to the college ; they even touch the college, and reach far into the field of self-cultivation. 4. To discuss grammar and rhetoric with a double purpose : first, to determine wherein their principal edu- cational value lies ; and, secondly, to point out their rela- tions to the language-arts. The teaching of literature and the functions of criticism in the language-arts will also receive merited attention. The order of this analy- sis will not in all cases be strictly followed. COMMENT ON CHAPTER I. Before pupils have reached a certain degree of reflection that can only come from careful training through several years of study, parsing is at best a heartless kind of work that has little connection with anything else, and it usually degenerates into the veriest mechanical drudgery. There is still a great deal of time given in the upper grades to this parsing, and in most cases it is a positive waste. Sentence r'iZt4ajij analysis gives pupils an insight into the genius of our lan- guage. The question always to be put in the analysis of sentence is, "What do I really mean when I say it this way, what do I mean when I say it that way ? " " The clouds rolled away, tinted by the setting sun." Some of the pupils thought tinted by the setting sun modified clouds, others thought it modified rolled. The thing that helped them most was each pupil putting to himself these ques- tions : " Does tinted by the setting sun tell about the action of rolling — does it make that action clearer ? Or does tinted by the setting sun explain the clouds ? Does it describe them ? Does it make the picture of the clouds more dis- tinct ? " Any rule that may have been given as to what a participial phrase modifies is worth very little compared with the insight the pupils get from seeing the real thing in the sentence that determines what the phrase modifies. But at present our best schools are centering their forces on the actual construction of language all through the grades. This does not necessarily mean written essays or compositions, but it does mean that the pupil is to be able to talk accurately, clearly, and concisely on any point that comes up in the work of the schools. The civilization in which we live demands this. Analysis and parsing are all right in their place, but this place must not be enlarged to 5a COMMENT ON CHAPTER I. take all the language or grammar time of the school. If the school fails to give the child somewhat of facility in ex- pressing his own thoughts accurately and in an organized way, it has failed in the great essential of English work, no matter how well he may parse and analyze. — S. E. T-C. 5b CHAPTER 11. THE LAKGUAGE-ARTS DEFIN"ED. Before we can intelligently consider the special sub- ject of this chapter, we must form clear ideas of science and art and their primal relation. Science is knowledge and art is skill ; or, more fully, science is organized knowledge, while art is educated skill. The same ideas are expressed by the terms " theory " and " practice." This is the fundamental distinction. Here art is actual skill, practice, or doing. But art has a sec- ond meaning ; it signifies also a body of rules or precepts that guide skill, practice, or doing. This is the sense of art in the statement that science teaches us to know and art to do ; or in the statement that the two differ as the indicative mode differs from the imperative, the first mak- ing declarations, the second issuing commands. This is the sense in which art is used in the familiar title, " The Art of Teaching." Practice conveys the same idea in the titles, " The Theory and Practice of Teaching," " The Theory and Practice of Medicine." The radical relation of the two elements is perfectly obvious : the science or theory of the book or course of lectures consists of the facts and principles advanced ; the art or practice is com- posed of the rules and methods. To grasp this duality of art, practice and rules to guide practice, is most impor- tant The second is the conscious or reflective side of art. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS DEFINED. 7 The matters that are immediately pursued and taught in schools are commonly called " studies " and " subjects." While this usage is so well settled that there is little probability of its being changed, it is at the same time misleading in classification and mischievous in results, as can easily be made to appear. In some school work the fundamental activity is doing or practice ; in other work, learning or knowing. In the first case, the end is skill or practical power ; in the sec- ond case, knowledge or intellectual power. The distinc- tion is the same as that between art and science, practice and theory. The relation of the two is an intimate one. Knowledge leads to doing, and doing to knowing. To separate the school arts from the school studies or^ h subjects proper, it is only necessary to ask : " Which is the /**s ** predominant activity, doing or knowing ? " " Which the predominant end, skill or intelligence ? " . Touched by this question, speech, reading, writing, composition, the elements of arithmetic, drawing, manual training, and music declare themselves to belong to the one class ; geography, history, grammar, literature, mathematics, and the sciences to the other. On the one side we have tools or instruments, on the other branches or divisions of knowledge. The principal of these arts or tools are speech, reading, and writing, and they constitute the sub- ject-matter of this book. The others may be characterized in general, and then be dismissed once for all. Most of the elementary school arts involve reading and writing of some kind. Arithmetical notation is a species of writing, numeration of reading. The other elements of arithmetic — addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division — are mere processes or methods of computation. They are as much arts as the abacus, or the contrivances used in calculation bj the Chinese. All these elements — 8 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. the so-called fundamental rules — belong equally to the other branches of mathematics ; but they are first acquired in connection with number or arithmetic, and they deter- mine its practical character. Drawing is a form of writ- ing. A draftsman makes a working drawing of a machine ; a workman reads it and follows its directions. Manual training and music are confessedly arts ; and, in general, it may be said that all systems of symbolism and nomen- clature, all notations, signs, and alphabets, are mere tools, appliances, arts ; they are not taught or studied as ends, but as means ; they are put in the elementary school be- cause they are essential to its real work, as well as to the work of life, and they give to it its predominant character. f fS^Uj^^ow we return to language. Vocal expression is in- ' stinctive, but speech is an art. The human infant spon- taneously expresses himself in sounds, noises, cries of various "kinds, but he does not spontaneously speak the German, the English, or the French language, or even any savage dialect of the desert or forest. As we shall see hereafter, it is imitation that transforms the infant's instinctive utterance into language. Perhaps oral speech is not commonly counted among the arts ; but we virtually acknowledge that it is so when we speak of "the art of conversation" and of "the art of public speaking," for these forms of speech do not differ from common speech in kind. Moreover, speech is an art that is cul- tivated, or at least should be cultivated, in the school. ; Eeading is a means of study and not a study itself. It discloses the contents of the printed page. It is skill for the completion of a work. It is an instrument of acquire- ment, and can be used with power and ease only through much practice. Writing is a means of record and impar- tation. It produces the printed page. It is the correla- THE LANGUAGE-ARTS DEFINED. 9 tive of reading, originating at the same time, and has long been known as the art preservative of arts. Composition '♦! is to the mind what writing is to the hand or speech to the vocal organs ; it is the production and arrangement of ideas, as writing is of characters and speech of sounds ; or, if composition is held to include expression, as prop- erly it does, then it is a double art, including the arrange- ment of ideas and their expression in words. We must not overlook the fact that the language-arts present the two phases that belong to the arts in general. They may be considered as practical skill for the accom- plishment of some work, or as codes of rules creating and guiding skill. The child reads, writes, etc. ; there are also rules for reading and writing. The relation of the pupil and of the teacher to these rules is a subject that will claim much of our attention at a more advanced stage of our discussion ; here it suffices to say that Tead\f^iigLsL^ ing as practical skill and reading as a code of rules are two very different things. The child goes to school to acquire the skill, and the rules are of practical value only in so far as they contribute to that end. It should also be observed that the two are by no means inseparable. A WA...It,s: person may read well, and not be able to give any rules ; ' A^i he may also give rules in abundance, and not be able ^^Ud^^ read well, or even at all. Nor must we overlook the fact that the language-arts, like the other school arts, are more or less connected with certain sciences. The art of music leans upon the science of music ; drawing and manual training depend upon physics and mathematics ; the principles of composition are found in grammar and rhetoric ; while reading and writing go back to physiology and psychology. It is not impertinent to remark that we are here deal- ing with reading and the other arts of the elementary ? 10 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. school as they are carried on in the school, and not as they are treated in books or lectures. If they are made the subject of scientific investigation ; if they are treated reflectively ; if rules, methods, facts, and laws occupy at- tention to the exclusion of skill on practice, then they become studies or subjects as a matter of course. But this is not the way in which they present themselves to the child holding in his hand his primer or his copybook. Two additional observations may be offered. The first is that if reading, writing, and composition, as found in the schools, are studies at all, they are §,tudies of a peculiar character. Little discrimination is needed to separate them from" formal studies like grammar and rhetoric, or from real studies like mathematics and science. They do not become studies until they are subjected to scientific method ; that is, until they are made the subject-matter of discussion and formal treatment. It is true that they all give the pupil some discipline, and that they all add some- thing to his store of knowledge ; but these are minor facts that do not determine their classification. At most, in the school they are tools or instrumental studies. The second observation is that if the distinction between the school arts and the school studies be pronounced unimportant, two answers may be made. Classification should rest on facts — should be scientific. Then the present designation of these arts as studies leads the teacher, or at all events tends to lead the teacher, to misplace the emphasis and to adopt a false method. If reading, for example, is regard- ed as a study or subject, rather than an art, the teacher is tempted to place rules or method above power to execute, and above the practice which alone can produce such power. Still more is this the tendency in teaching com- position. Never, until the idea that composition is a " study " to be learned from a book is banished from the THE LANGUAGE-ARTS DEFINED. H school, will children be taught to write properly. Among the severest criticisms made upon the common school are these : " The reading and spelling are poor," " The me- chanical work in arithmetic is laborious and inaccurate," " The composition is bad " ; and these are faults that can be corrected only through practice. There can be no greater mistake in relation to the first stages of school education than that the rationale of a process is immediately valu- able. A painter or musician knows his technical ruleSsSJj, l^-^C^ and his science, but neither his technical rules nor hiB-^^^^A science can take the place of technique or execution. It is by no means always true that a mathematician is " good in figures " ; on the other hand, he is often poor. It is therefore extremely important that the teacher should clearly see' whether the end to which a school exercise looks is skill or knowledge — practical power or intel- lectual_£ower. COMMENT ON CHAPTER II. A boy may study the Spencerian capital T until he can name every principle, and give the exact height and width, and yet not be able to make the capital T at all well. He lacks the art side. A carpenter may be able to make a square corner, probably by rule, but may not know how to prove that it is a square corner — that the square on the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides. He has the art side, the skill in doing, but he lacks the scientific side ; the real reason underlying the thing he does not know. A person may be able to read music readily, understand time and pitch ; he may know the mechanism of the piano, know the correspondence between the keys of the piano and the lines and spaces on the music page, and yet he may be utterly unable to play even the simplest air on the piano. He knows the theoretical or scientific side, but lacks the art side — the doing. This is just the difference between a science and its corresponding art. The careful teacher must view reading and composition in just the same way. If the pupil is to learn how to read and how to write, he must actually read and write. In reading he must be led to get the thought, rather the whole round of experience, out of the lesson that is really embod- ied in the language. No amount of talk about reading, nor the rambling discussion of subjects which the lesson sug- gests, will make him a reader. Children may be able to repeat all the rules for punc- tuation and capitalization and violate every one in their written work. Nothing short of the actual practice will give skill in the doing. These two phases of the art side go to- gether. We tell the pupil he must always begin a sentence with a capital letter ; he must always open his mouth well 11a COMMENT ON CHAPTER II. in his oral reading"; that he must try to see exactly what the author thought in a given selection. The pupil must know that these things are necessary before he can be expected to follow them. However, these directions are different from the principles underlying them, and in the lower grades the children acquire skill in reading and writing before they are able to comprehend the reasons underlying these arts, just as they learn to obey before they are able to understand the true reason for obedience. — S. E. T-C. lib CHAPTER III. THE VERIS'ACULAR AS A:N^ EDUCATIONAL INSTRUMENT. The first view that men take of language, and the only one that most of them ever take, is the practical view. Language is a tool to be used in the commerce of life. Through it we receive the thought and feeling of our fellows, and convey our own thought and feeling to them in turn. The field of this peculiar commerce is so extensive that it gives rise to the three greatest arts — speech, reading, and writing. These pages abound in remarks on the value of these arts and their place in edu- cation. In the present chapter it is proposed to take a broader and more fundamental view of the subject. This is the more necessary, because a large majority of men, and even of teachers, never look beyond the immediate or practical u&ea,^of this great instrument of human in- tercourse to discoifer its further value. The relation of language and the mind has furnished men of speculative habit some of the most interesting and difficult questions with which they have grappled. One of these questions, and perhaps the most fascinating of all, is whether general names denote real existence or only subjective existence — the old contention of the Nominal- ists and the Realists. Another and perhaps a more practi- cal one is whether language and thought are inseparable. It is a tradition of the schools that without articulate 12 THE VERNACULAR. 13 speech there is, and there can be, no real mental activity, at least no thinking. This tradition, inveterate as it is, is certainly untrue. The existence of human intelli- gence, independent of language, can be conclusively es- tablished.* It by no means follows, however, that the human intelligence can be fully developed, or even far developed, without language. On the other hand, mental growth can never advance beyond a certain rudimentary * Prof. Preyer, who is perhaps the highest authority on the sub- ject, gives us the demonstration (see Mental Development in the Child). Preyer remarks, what indeed any intelligent observer can see for himself, that the child learns to make the discrimination of warm and wet, damp and cool, dry and warm, dry and cold, rough and hard, soft and smooth, heavy and light, at a time when as yet he gives no hint whatever in the direction of naming his feelings in words of articulate speech (page 30). He remarks too that deaf and dumb children in the first months do not differ essentially from normal children (page 31). Children born completely deaf have, " through the senses of sight and touch, a large number of ideas, and they often have a remarkable understanding " (page 88). The first time that a child with a spoon in his right hand strikes the table, notices the sound, and then, shifting the spoon to the other hand, repeats the experiment, he gives a sign of intellect that seeks for causes (page 85). Forest children that have been rescued from their imbrutement, and have learned to talk, hav^ shown a mental development superior to the animals about them, and have turned to practical account in their new life what they had learned in the wilderness (pages 90-93). Again, the general conclusion is strength- ened by analogous facts observed in the study of animals, in the fields and woods, in zoological gardens, and in the aquarium (page 84). Still, further, ideas are before words, and therefore before talking (page 89). Thinking, in the proper sense of the term, can not be taught to any one through verbal instruction. No child is at first instructed in thinking, but every child learns of himself to think as much as he learns to see and hear (page 69). In the child no special activity of intellect is proved by a special aptitude for acquiring words, but sometimes the contrary (page 94). 14 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. stage unless the child is in possession of an adequate means of expression. This is not denied. Furthermore, adequate means of expression implies a verbal language. Facial expression, looks, signs, gestures, pictures, and symbols do not suffice. The truth is, that we early learn to carry on our thinking in words ; that in real human life thought and language are practically inseparable, and that neither one can be understood, or be intelligently discussed, without constant reference to the other. We may call intelligence the master of speech, but the serv- ant is indispensable to the master.* Sir William Ham- ilton has appositely said that language is the godmother of knowledge. " Language is to the mind precisely what the arch is to the tunnel," he says ; " the power of thinking and the power of excavation are not dependent on the word in one case, or on the mason work in the other; but without these subsidiaries, neither process could be carried beyond its rudimentary commence- ment." f We must, however, make this almost insepa- rable relation the subject of a closer investigation. Not only have writers on psychology, logic, and philol- ogy discussed the genetic relation of thought and speech, * This fact Preyer also distinctly recognises. The history of im- bruted children furnishes " the proof of the indispensableness of the learning of language for the attainment of full intellectual activity and the development of feeling by means of learning to speak in the first years of life; for they have almost all lost the ability to frame thoughts that go beyond the immediate surroundings, and to rise to higher concepts — to the highest reason." That the *' capacity which first lends to human life its true worth is only possible through the learning of language — and in fact of verbal language, not picture language or sign language, or any other means of understanding — nobody denies." — Mental Development in the Child, p. 94. f Logic, lecture viii. THE VERNACULAR. 15 but liistorians have marked the correspondence of their respective development. " Language lies at the root of all mental cultivation." So says the great historian of Eome, Dr. Theodor Mommsen ; and no one has a better right to say so than he, unless it may be an equally eminent his- torian of Greece. The great languages of the world are no accidents; they are not found here and there at random, but belong to the great peoples. The thought, the imagination, the feeling of Greece could not have existed separate and apart from the Greek language/ The force of character, the will, and the action of Eome were inseparably bound up with the Roman tongue. We can not think of the contributions that these two nations made to civilization as emanating from peoples who used feeble or meagre languages. But this is not all : not only must a great people live in a great language, but its lan- guage must be suited to its genius and life. Latin could not have been the language of Greece, nor Greek the language of Eome ; and still less could Hebrew have been the language of either. An Englishman can not grow up in the French language, or a Frenchman in the English language. Hebrew expresses the deep spiritual concep- tions of Judea ; Greek, the profound and subtle philo- sophical and ffisthetical ideas of Greece ; Latin, the practi- cal aims of Eome. German fits the Germans, French the French, English the English ; and were the young of the •^ three nations changed at birth a transformation of in- * herited character would immediately begin. We need not inquire more curiously into the relation existing be- tween national character and language ; it suffices us to know that the interaction between the two is constant and powerful. In a way, the national language is the best metre of the national genius and character. As with the nation, so with the individual. A great 16 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. man can not live in a small or a barren language ; and if he is compelled to make use of one that is below his pur- pose, as Dante in writing the Divina Commedia, Jerome in translating the Bible into Latin,* or Luther in trans- lating it into German, he expands it and raises it to his own level by forcing into it new content, and so giving it a new rank in the world. But even so much as this he can not do unless the material is ready to his hand. Em- erson tells us that a man's power to connect his thought with its proper symbol, and so to utter it, depends on the simplicity of his character — "that is, his love of truth, and his desire to communicate it without loss"; that " the corruption of man is followed by the corruption of ' language " ; and that " picturesque language is at once a commanding certificate that he who employs it is a man in alliance with truth and God." f But this is only one side of the shield ; Lowell gives us the other side. " The material of thought," says he, " reacts upon the thought itself. Shakespeare himself would have been common- place had he been paddocked in a thinly shaven vocabulary, and Phidias, had he worked in wax, only a more improved Mrs. Jarley." J Then a man's speech reflects not merely his moods, as of thoughtfulness or passion, but also his whole mental life. Thus language becomes, and particu- larly unpremeditated language, a measure of the man. All in all, it is a better metre of his cultivation than his manners. The dialect that the disciples of Jesus spoke " betrayed " much more than that they were Galileans. The correspondence is perfect between the mind of Mil- * See Dean Milman on Jerome's Bible, Latin Christianity, vol. i, p. 2. f Nature, chap. iv. X Books and Libraries, in Literary and Political Addresses. THE VERNACULAR. 17 ton, as erudite as poetic, and his diction ; while Shake- speare is no more masterful in thought, delineation, and fancy than in vocabulary. " What is that," asks Coleridge, " which first strikes us, and strikes us at once, in a man of education, and which, among educated men, so instantly distinguishes the man of superior mind, that (as was observed with eminent propriety of the late Edmund Burke) we can not stand under the same archway during a shower of rain without finding him out ? Not the weight or novelty of his remarks ; not any unusual interest of facts com- municated by him, etc. ... It is the unpremeditated and evidently habitual arrangement of his words, grounded on the habit of foreseeing, in each integral part, or (more plainly) in every sentence, the whole that he intends to communicate. However irregular and desultory his talk, there is method in the fragments." * What has been said relates to vernacular languages. The word is derived from vernaculus, which comes again from verna^ a slave born in his master's house ; and it means the speech to which one is born and in which he is reared— the patrius sermo of the Eoman, the Mutter Sprache of the German, the mother tongue of the Englishman. Command of a noble vernacular in- volves the most valuable discipline and culture that a man is capable of receiving. It conditions all other dis- cipline and culture. Reference is not now made to its scientific study, to its history and philology, its lexical and grammatical elements ; what is meant rather is the man's growing up in the language, so to speak, and using it for all the purposes of his mental life. The greatest mental inheritance to which a German, a Frenchman, or * The Friend, section ii, Essay iv. 18 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. an Englishman is born is his native tongue, rich in the knowledge and wisdom, the ideas and thoughts, the wit and fancy, the sentiment and feeling, of a thousand years. Nay, of more than a thousand years ; for these languages in their modern forms were enriched by still earlier cen- turies. To come back to the old thought, such a speech as one of these only flows out from such a life as it expresses, and is in turn essential to the existence of that life. A man's lack of a cultivated language means one of two things : either that his mental and moral life must be confined and repressed, or that he must go abroad in quest of what he can not find at home. The deepest significance of the Renaissance is disclosed by the fact that, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the minds of men had awakened to the barrenness of the mental waste about them ; that they craved thought, sentiment, and beauty, of which their own tongues were destitute ; and that they resorted to the Greek and Latin classics, which were at that time practically restored to the world. The weakest side of the Renaissance as an intellectual movement was, that it could not in any case be really na- tional. Scholars might be developed and sustained on the old literatures, but not the people. However it may be with epicures, the common man can not subsist on exotic fruits. There is no example in history of a powerful na- tional mental and moral life, unless it grows out of a ver- nacular culture and is supported by it. Witness the Jews, the Greeks, and the Romans. What has been said leads up to our main topic. This is, the vernacular as an instrument of education. A learned Scotch writer contends that the study of the vernacular *' is, and must always be, the supreme object in the educa- tion of a human being, the centre around which all other TPIE VERNACULAR. 19 educational agencies ought to arrange themselves in due subordination." The one argument that he presses, some- what abridged, runs as follows : Mind grows only in so far as it finds expression for itself ; and this it can not find in a foreign tongue. It is round the language learned at the mother's knee that the whole life of feeling, emotion, and thought gathers. If it were possible for a child or boy to live in two languages at once equally well, so much the worse ; his intellectual and spiritual growth would not be doubled but halved. Unity of mind and of character would have great difficulty in asserting itself. Language is at best only symbolic of the world of consciousness, and nearly every word is rich in unexpressed associations of life-experience, which gives it its full value for the life of mind. Subtilties, delicacies, and refinements of feeling and perception are only indi- cated by words ; the rest lies deep in our conscious or un- conscious life, and is the source of the tone and colour of language. Words, accordingly, must be steeped in life to be living ; and as we have not two lives, but only one, so we have only one language. To the mother tongue, then, all other languages we acquire are merely subsidiary ; and their chief value in the education of youth is that they help to bring into relief for us the character of our own language as a logical medium of thinking, or help us to understand it as thought, or to feel it as literary art.* An able American scholar, profoundly realizing the dependence of solid cultivation upon the national tongue, forcibly argues that this dependence must find larger recognition in our scheme of education. The following is also somewhat abridged : * Prof. S. S. Laurie : Lectures on Language and Linguistic Method in the School, pp. 18, 19, second edition. 20 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Education, he contends, is more than mental dis- cipline ; it is a process of nutrition. Mind grows by what it feeds on, and, like the body, must have suitable and appropriate nourishment. Intellect is only one function of the mind ; feeling and volition are co-present and co- essential. A7id these three are one mind. The pre-emi- nence of literature as educative material is due to the fact that, coming as poetry especially does from the intellectual and emotional depths of creative genius, it awakens, nour- ishes, and calls into activity the corresponding potencies of those who are touched by its influence. Then language is the sole universal in the life of man. Language and literature are more than liberalizing, they are humanizing studies. Through the liumanity in them we realize our own individual human capacities. The language and lit- erature that best serve this end are our own. Consequent- ly, the vernacular is the beginning and the end of a liberal education. The Greeks, to whom we owe our ideal of culture, knew no language but their own ; but the minds of Greek schoolboys were steeped in their own noble liter- ature. For our youth the essential and indispensable ele- ment in a generous culture is the English language and literature. But the best results in the teaching of English in high schools can not be secured without the aid given by the study of some other language, which, in the opin- ion of all experts, should be Latin or a modern tongue. This re-enforces the humanistic starting-point, which is of the utmost importance. From the vernacular as a cen- tre the entire scheme of secondary education must be, and in due time will be, evolved.* * Dr. J. G. Schurman : The School Review, vol. ii., pp. 93, 94. COMMENT ON CHAPTER IIT. A poor use of the vernacular indicates to the teacher that the pupil does poor thinking-. On the other hand, careful, accurate use of language indicates careful, accurate thought. More than this, by insisting on a close statement of the child's ideas, he is led to make more careful discrimina- tions in the thoug-ht itself. Good expression assists in care- ful thinking, and careful thinking assists in good expres- sion. When the teacher sees the beneficial effect of good, accurate expression upon the actual discrimination in the thought itself, he sees a phase of the language work that should be emphasized. He finds that every lesson has a legitimate language phase that must not be omitted. The pupil may be held to an accurate statement of the cause of seasons in his geography work ; he may be told to state one element of the cause clearly, then another element, and an- other ; he will be led to do consecutive thinking, to make a discrimination of the elements entering into the point dis- cussed. In the selection from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar in the Fifth Reader the pupil is assured from Antony's statement that Caesar was not ambitious. It is exceedingly helpful for the pupil to work out at least four reasons to support this idea. These reasons should be definitely located in the lan- guage of the selection, one by one, so there is no mistaking what led the pupil to his conclusion. In arithmetic, if the pupil forms the habit of making an accurate statement in every problem of the exact conditions given and exactly what is required, it will prove very helpful. The physi- ology work can bear upon the same point. If the pupil is to name the digestive organs, it is best to begin at a certain point, as the mouth, teeth, and tongue, then move on and D 20a TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. take the one used next This gives a more systematic tone to his thinking than beginning anywhere and ending any- where. The point under discussion may be the results of the war with Mexico. The pupils should see that one result was the acquisition of a certain territory ; that there many of the prominent generals of the Civil War received their first training ; that the United States incurred a heavy debt ; that territory in which slaves might be profitable was ob- tained ; "that the United States incurred the ill feeling of Mexico, which is present to a certain degree to-day. Such a careful statement of these results compels the pupil to do close, accurate thinking. So the thought and language re- enforce each other. This results in two things : while the pupil has gained a little power in closely analyzing a point to see exactly what it contains, he has also increased and strengthened his hold over the good use of English. This insistence upon careful expression must not be pushed to such an extreme that the pupil fears to express himself on a point lest he may make some humiliating blunder. S. E. T-C. 20b CHAPTEE lY. THE WORK OF THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Whek a child first reaches the schoolhouse, say at the age of six years, he has already acquired two invalu- able mental possessions. These are : — 1. A store of facts, ideas, and images — that is, of knowledge ; or, to speak in terms of power rather than of attainment, the child has reached a certain stage of mental growth or expansion ; he has a certain procreative mental power . 2. A store of language capable of expressing measur- ably these ideas, facts, and images ; or, to adopt the other form of expression, the child is able to clothe the children of his mind in an appropriate garb of speech. These two facts stand in a certain relation to each other ; they are in a sense only aspects of one and the same fact, as was stated in general terms in the last chapter. As a rule, however, mental power is in excess of linguistic power. Professor Preyer declares that " the newborn human being brings with him into the world far more intellect than talent for language," * and it is prob- able that, as a rule, intellect maintains this primitive ad- vantage. Just as the child's physical strength is in ex- cess of his power to walk until he has found his legs, so his intellectual strength is in excess of his power to talk * The Development of the Intellect, p. 33. 21 22 TEACHING TPIE LANGUAGE-ARTS. until he has found his tongue. Both walking and talk- ing are habits or arts to be acquired. While it is true, as the writer just quoted says, that it was not language which generated the intellect, but rather the intellect which invented speech, it is still true that practically the two elements are inseparably connected, and thus either element may be roughly measured in terms of the other. The two main facts now stated are the roots from which the child's school culture is to spring. The teacher, as she meets the new pupil at the schoolroom door, faces therefore a twofold work. 1. She must strive to enlarge and clarify the child's mental store, rendering his ideas, facts, and thoughts more precise and definite, as well as more full and varied. She is to enlarge the quantity and improve the quality of what the child knows ; or, to speak in terms of power again, she is to stimulate and direct the growth or ex- pansion of his mind. Under this head the teaching of all studies, or subjects proper, falls, no matter what their names or character. 2. She must put him in possession of the elementary school arts, as previously explained — what are sometimes called the instrumental studies. In particular — and for our purpose this is the main point — she must strive to enlarge and improve his language ; enlarge it by expand- ing his vocabulary, improve it by rendering his use of language more clear and definite. This requirement will include not merely oral speech, but also reading and com- position, or all the language-arts. Professor Laurie says our business as educators is to give to the child's " words definite and clear significations, and to help the child in adding to his stock ; for, in adding to his stock of under- stood words, we add to his stock of understood things, THE WORK OF THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. 23 and, consequently, to his material for thought and the growth of the fabric of his mind." * The earnest teacher who assays this two-sided task is at once confronted by the question of method. Under either head she asks, " Where shall I begin? " and " How shall I proceed ? " These questions she can not intelli- gently answer until she has carefully studied the child's^^ ^ previous mental life. Entering upon such study, she en- ^Pi^^ counters new questions, viz., " How has the child acquired tlie knowledge that he possesses already ? " and " How has he learned the language that he habitually uses in the ex- pression of his thought and feeling?" The answers to these questions will determine in a general way, for the time being, the method of the school ; for the very obvi- ous reason that, unless the school preserves the essential continuity of the child's mental life, it will fail to ac- complish its object. As the child lias been learning, whether knowledge or language, so in the main must he continue to learn. This is the method of Nature. Answers to our two questions will furnish matter for the two en- suing chapters. First, however, an additional observation. Closely connected as thought and language are, either one may be developed somewhat in disproportion to the other. This fact is popularly recognised in such expres- sions as that " A knows more than he can tell," while " B can tell more than he knows." The wise teacher will not fall into the very common mistake of neglecting either of the two elements. Good teaching of subject-^ matter enlarges the use of language, and good teachingj of language enlarges subject-matter. In teaching read- ing a mistake has sometimes been made. Too little at- tention has been paid to thought-material and too much * Page 29. 24 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. attention to words and expression. At the present time there is, in some qutirters, a tendency to slight the arts of expression and, relatively, to exaggerate thought-material. In the unfolding of the mind intellect precedes language, as we have seen ; but language reacts upon intellect to such an extent that its large cultivation is essential to large mental growth. ^To cultivate expression is to cul- tivate mind. In the elementary school the two Hues of work should be co-ordinate. To neglect either is to go counter to the teachings of psychology, and to court fail- ure in the end. Note. — Prof. Laurie, in the first edition of his Lectures on Lan- guage and Linguistic Method in the School (page 23). after re- marking that the child's range of language up to the eighth year is very small, said that he was probably confined to not more than 150 words. In the second edition (page 28) he makes the number not more than 200 or 300 words. Even the second number is no doubt too small. Mr. Albert Salisbury, of the State Normal School, Whitewater, Wisconsin, reports a child that at the age of thirty-two months had by actual count a vocabulary of 642 words, and at the age of five and a half years a vocabulary of 1,529 words. The two vocabularies are as follows at the two periods, distributed with reference to parts of speech : Nouns, 350 and 885 ; pronouns, 24 and 22; verbs, 150 and 321; adjectives, 60 and 236; adverbs, 32 and 40; prepositions, 17 and 20; conjunctions, 4 and 5; interjections, 5 and 1 ; participles and inflected forms in general except pronouns were not counted. " It will be observed," says Mr. Salisbury, " that, with an apparent shrinkage in his use of pronouns and interjections, there was an immense increase in his use of nouns and adjectives, verbs coming third in the order of the increase." Of the second list he says, further, that it was composed of words not merely understood, but of words actually and spontaneously used by the child, and that it certainly underestimated his working vocabulary. — (Educa- tional Review, March, 1894, pp. 289, 290.) Prof. Max Mliller states, on the authority of an English coun- try clergyman, that some of the labourers in his parish had not 800 words in their vocabulary ; that the vocabulary of the ancient THE WORK OF THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 25 sages of Egypt, as far as it is known from the hieroglyphic inscrip- tions, amounts to about 685 words ; that the libretto of an Italian opera seldom displays a greater variety ; that a well-educated per- son in England, who has been at a public school and at the uni- versity, who reads his Bible, his Shakespeare, the Times, and all the books of Mudie's Library, seldom uses more than about 3,000 or 4,000 words in actual conversation ; that accurate thinkers and close reasoners, who wait until they find the word that exactly fits their meaning, employ a larger stock ; and that eloquent speakers may rise to a command of 10,000. " Shakespeare, who displayed a greater variety of expression than probably any writer in any lan- guage, produced all his plays with about 15,000 words. Milton's works are built up with 8,000 ; and the Old Testament says all that it has to say with 5,642 words." — (The Science of Language, pp. 266, 267.) '* But a contributor to Cassell's Saturday Journal," says the London Daily News, " has been at considerable pains to check these (Miiller's) theories, and the conclusion that he arrives at is that the figures given are too small. Farm hands, he finds, are able to name all the common objects of the farm, and to do this involves the use of more than the entire number of 300 words allotted to them. Then, by going through a dictionary, and excluding compound words or words not in pretty constant use, he found that there were under the letter ' s ' alone 1,018 words that are to be found in ordi- nary people's vocabulary. It would be nearer the truth, we are told, to say that the agricultural labourer uses 1,500 more, and that intelligent farm hands and artisans command 4,000 words, while educated people have at call from 8,000 to 10,000. Journalists are credited with 12,000." COMMENT ON CHAPTER IV. A fuHer statement of the work of the elementary school in reading and language will be made in connection with the chapters dealing especially with that subject. S. E. T-C. CHAPTER V. THE ORIGI]^ OF THE CHILD'S KNOWLEDGE. With all their divergencies of view, the psychologists are happily agreed on the one fundamental question of the origin and nature of our earliest knowledge. Let us run over the principal facts that are to be considered in studying that subject. / The first of these facts is the mind. The mind is capable of activity, of self-activity, and this is its char- acteristic attribute ; through activity it grows, increases, enlarges ; furthermore, while the mind is one and has no parts, it is capable of acting in several different spheres, or of having a variety of experiences, and, through these activities and experiences, its powers or faculties are de- veloped. This enlargement or increase of the mind we name education. Still another fact in relation to the mind is that it grows only through its own activity. Once more, the mind can not act, and so can not enlarge or be- come educated, if it is left isolated. Its primal activity is dependent absolutely upon something external to itself. 2 Accordingly, the second fundamental fact in knowing js some object or thing other than mind. In general we may call this Nature. It is Nature that first sets the mind in motion, and so incites its growth or education ; it is Nature that first stimulates us to know, to feel, and to choose. Afterward the mind's own states and affec- 26 THE ORIGIN OP THE CHILD'S KNOWLEDGE. 27 tions act in the same way ; but this comes only in the period of introspection or self-consciousness, and does not lie within the scope of the present survey. But, thirdly, Nature and the mind must be in relation one to the other. Until real contact is established, there is no mental ac- tivity and so no knowledge or education ; but the mo- ment it is established activity begins, and knowledge and education take their rise. Knowledge is, in fact, nothing but a relation between the knowing power and the known object. Properly speaking, it has no existence outside of the mind ; it is a continuing state of mind ; that is, if minds should cease to know, knowledge would cease to exist. We do indeed assign to knowledge an objective existence, as when we speak of the knowledge that is stored up in books and libraries. With that phase of the sub- ject we shall deal hereafter ; here it is sufficient to say that what books and libraries do really contain is the sym- bols of knowledge — mere transcripts or copies of the world or of the mind as the authors of books have seen the world and mind — and that they are meaningless until they are converted into reality by the reader's own ac- tivity. Letters and books to a child, or to an illiterate person, are nothing but things, like stocks and stones. The education of the human race began with the es- tablishment of contact between mind on the one side and the facts of Nature and of society on the other. The di- rect contact of mind with mind is also involved. This primal knowledge and discipline was soon re-enforced from another source. As soon as men began to observe, to think, and remember — that is, to accumulate expe- rience — they began to impart what they had learned to one another. They began to communicate. Parents in particular communicated to their children. In the primal sense of the word that was the beginning, not 28 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. strictly of education, but of teaching. One generation told what it knew to the generation following. Thus arose tradition, the oral delivery from man to man and from age to age of a store of accumulated experience ; tradition, which has exerted, and still exerts, an incalcu- lable influence upon the affairs of men. It is a channel of communication, a means of teaching. It does not stand for first-hand or original knowledge, but for second-hand or derivative knowledge ; or, to put the thought in an- other form, what one learns in this way he does not know through the exercise of his own faculties of observation and reflection, but through the exercise of the faculties of reception and retention. The establishment of con- tact between men's minds and this second form of knowl- edge was the second step in the education of the race. However, this relation can not be artificial or mechanical, but must be real and vital, as before. It is as necessary for one to use his mind in order to understand what an- other has seen, heard, or thought, as it is to understand things at first hand, and often even more necessary. The medium of tradition is oral language, assisted by signs and gestures ; and this brings us back again, and from a new angle, to the relation that exists between language and mental cultivation. The foregoing survey covers the whole field of race education previous to the invention of some kind of writing — either pictures, words, or letters. There has been some discussion of the question how far the in- dividual repeats the history of the race. He certainly takes, and in the same order, all the steps that have been enumerated. The boy of six years of age has a store of ideas that may be grouped as follows : — 1. Ideas of the natural world about him, or of sense- objects. These ideas are simple, particular, concrete, THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S KNOWLEDGE. 29 and have been formed by the familiar processes of sense- perception. Furthermore, as children differ in natural environment, so they differ in ideas. The mental store of the city boy differs from that of the country boy. 2. Ijieas of the social world. These ideas also are simple and concrete, formed by sense-perception. They are ideas both of persons and of acts, and they are de- pendent upon environment, as before. These two groups of ideas are the first that the child forms, and they condition all his later knowledge. He forms them himself, at first hand ; for in this sphere all that the parent, nurse, or other person can do for the child, at first, is merely to bring facts into relation to his senses, which forms a sort of rudimentary teaching. In a true sense, therefore, the child is an original investi- gator of the world about him, prying into it with all the organs at his command. 3. Abstract or general ideas. These are notions or concepts, pale and shadowy indeed, but still the germs of ajl scientific thought. Concept-making is later than per- c^t-naaking, but follows close upon it. Here are brought into play not merely observation, but analysis, comparison, abstraction, and generalization. The child learns the dif- ference between " mamma " and " woman," and the use of the plural number; he enters into the sphere of relations tliat distinguish, in simple cases, cause and effect. These general ideas relate to the social sphere as well as to Nature ; for, notwithstanding their greater abstractness, the normal- ly trained child early begins to form the notions conveyed by the words "command," "rule," "law," "authority," " control," and " government." Although not self-con- scious, the normal child, long before he reaches the school- house, has learned the use of "I " and " me," or has learned to discriminate between himself and the world about him. 30 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 4. Judgments and inferences. Judgment or compari- son is involved in the formation of both percepts and con- cepts, and also of inferences. Still, it is proper to men- tion them particularly as constituting thinking proper. Professor Preyer's boy was twenty- three months old when he uttered his first spoken judgment, Heiss — that is, "This food is too hot." Add inference to judgment, and you have reasoned knowledge. In his first thinking, the child uses only the materials furnished by perception. The first subject-matter upon which he exercises his faculties comes from his own expe- rience. His concepts, judgments, and inferences are in tliis respect strictly limited. He can not, in fact, be taught to think any more than he can be taught to see, to hear, or to smell. All that can be done for him in this regard must be indirect. A normal mind, when it comes into relation with an appropriate object, per- ceives or thinks, just as spontaneously as a normal finger smarts when thrust into the flame of a lamp. At first the mental processes are not volitional, but automatic; afterward, the will appears, and finally assumes definite control of the regulated mind. The child is an original thinker, as he is an original observer. With slight change of words, what Emerson says of Mature is equally true of society: "Nature is a discipline of the understanding in intellectual truths. Our dealing with sensible objects is a constant exercise in the necessary lessons of difference, of likeness, of order, of being and seeming, of progressive arrangement ; of ascent from particular to general ; of combination to one end of manifold forces. . . . What tedious training, day after day, year after year, never end- ing, to form the common sense." * * Nature, chap. v. THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S KNOWLEDGE. 31 Still, too much emphasis is often placed on the sense- elements — at least, in the more advanced stages of educa- tion. It is not at all necessary for each man to repeat in all particulars the experience of the race. To do so, under existing conditions, is, in fact, impossible; but even if it were possible, such a procedure would involve great loss of time and energy. The current maxim, "Never teach the child anything that he can find out himself," contains as much error as truth. In respect to many things, Roger Ascham's observation, "Learning teacheth more in one year than experience in twenty," is just as true as the converse would be in respect to other things. At first, all the elements of knowledge are sense-elements, concrete and particular ; on these our ear- liest use of language rests, and they form the basis of all our knowledge; but as the child ascends the educational ladder, the abstract, the general, and the ideal elements will become more and more prominent. The present purpose is not to inventory the child's ideas on his arrival at the school, but only to classify them. To inventory them would be impossible, since his knowledge is a variable quantity. His mind already acts in every sphere in which it is capable of acting, but with different degrees of power. His perceptive knowledge far exceeds his reflective knowledge; the field that he has made most thoroughly his own is the material world, and after that the social world. The value of what he has already acquired can not be overestimated, meagre as it may seem ; for this knowledge, through apperception, will exercise the profoundest influence upon his whole future life. Still furtlier, these first steps in the path of knowl- edge are as difficult as they are important. We take these steps when we are too young either to appreciate their difficulty or to remember them. However, observation of 32 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. the child-life must convince us that they are the shortest as well as the most difficult steps that we ever take iu the path of knowledge. 5. But the enumeration of the sources of knowledge is not yet complete. The child of six has been brought into contact with the stream of tradition as well as with Nature and the social world. A parent teaches his child through explanations, descri23tions, and stories, as well as by putting sense-objects and his own conduct or behaviour in the child's way. This verbal or secondary knowledge the child receives by the help of his primal or original knowledge. The ideas, images, and thoughts that he has formed by using his mind on real objects interpret to him the ideas, images, and thoughts conveyed by words. At first a word or sentence is nothing more to him than any other sound. Time, or rather experience, makes the word or sentence significant, and experience only. The culti- vation that comes from Nature and man must precede tlie cultivation that comes from spoken language as well as the cultivation that comes from books and literature. Here our survey may close; for it will be better to deal with the book when the child enters the school- house. And still the remark may be added that no at- tempt has been made sharply to discriminate time-rela- tions in the sequence of the child's knowledge. It is enough for the teacher to know that when the child reaches the school his knowledge is rapidly increasing and his mind growing in all the ways and directions that have been enumerated. COMMENT ON CHAPTER V. The fundamental thing in the acquisition of knowledge is contact. The child must come face to face with the thing to be learned. He will never have any idea of the horse if in no possible way he comes in contact with it. He may learn about it by actually seeing the horse, examining its head, body, limbs, and feet ; by watching it eat, run, play, and draw loads. He has the advantage of contact with the reality. But to the boy in Venice the knowledge of a horse, in most cases, must come in a very different way. His idea must come through conversation, or pictures, or mounted specimens. It may be through spoken language, it may be through w^ritten language, it may be through pictures, it may be through examination of a lifeless horse in a mu- seum, and it may be through all of these. In the latter case he does not come in contact with the actually existing thing at all : he comes in contact immediately with some- body's notion of a horse. But w^hether the child comes into immediate contact with the actual object or with some other person's notion of that object, one fact of mind remains the same : the child will never know anything about it except through his own self- activity, his own exertion. All any teacher can do is to ar- range the facts before the child, and by question and illus- tration lead him to put forth the necessary activity to grasp them. The difference in the skill of teachers lies in their ability to do this thing. But with the good teacher as well 32a TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. as witli the poor one, it remains with the child to do the actual thinking, to transform these objective facts or reali- ties into a part of his mental equipment. The teacher must recognise the fact that the field of knowledge is almost limitless. While the child should be encouraged to find out as much from original sources as he can, yet the teacher should be ready to supplement this knowledge at every point where the child can be more profitably employed in working out something else. If each person were required to be an original investigator in every line, he would be compelled to be a Huxley, a Herschel, a Kepler, a Newton, a Galileo, an Agassiz, before he could use even in a common way the great facts these men discovered. The skill and tact of the teacher is well shown in her judgment as to just what points to tell the pupil directly or to have him read, and what points he should work out independently. A certain class was trying to discover what were the necessary conditions that produce the change of seasons. They felt quite sure the movement of the earth around the sun was one cause, but not alone sufficient. They placed the balls representing the earth and sun in every position of which they could think, but were not able to get it right. After they had worked several minutes the teacher sug- gested that they try them with the axis of the earth slightly inclined, keeping the inclination the same. They were soon able to see the full cause for the change of seasons. The teacher first debated with herself whether it was better to give a suggestive direction or to wait. She had given ample opportunity for them to make a great many trials, and she decided that the remainder of the time would be of more value to work over the entire cause from a sug- 32b COMMENT ON CHAPTER V. gesiion than to allow them to go on blindly in search of the cause and then probably not find it. Teachers are for the purpose of having the child see these great truths with- out their having to go through the tedious wait of ages that the race has had. The race's experience is to be made the child's own in the shortest time and in the best way. The child should by no means have all his hard points explained before he has grappled with them. But there is a limit both to original investigation and to telling out- right that the good teacher must watch, and the school must give the pupil the ability to hold to difficult ques- tions and to get the mental acumen from such independent and original work. Dr. Hinsdale suggests that abstract or general ideas and judgments and inferences come later than ideas of the con- crete world in which the child lives. The teacher, in the grades especially, should see in this a fact in teaching, that the statement of rules and principles in arithmetic and gram- mar, for instance, are general ideas, judgments, and infer- ences, and that the concrete examples embodying these rules should be seen and studied first. As far as primary and intermediate grades are concerned, there is no necessity for learning very many abstract statements or definitions. Arithmetic is made a burden with definitions of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division ; with rules for the different processes, although the child already knows these processes and has no use for the rules. Geography is fre- quently begun by learning a list of general statements or definitions. Instead of learning the definition that a lake is a body of water surrounded by land, he should see a pond or lake in the neighbourhood ; stories should be read to him, and pictures shown of other lakes, as Lake George, Great E 32c TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Salt Lake, Lake Geneva, and Lake Tchad. These may be moulded and drawn and talked about until the word lake means something definite as to water and land. If he has all this, a formal definition is of little use, but if one is needed he can make the statement for himself. This is just as true in the study of the noun or verb as with the idea of a lake. One great trouble with our grammar work is that it is too full of definitions ; points are decided by rule and arbitrary statement rather than by insight. With older students, this inductive process may not be so necessary, but it certainly needs careful consideration in the grades. S. E. T-C. 32d CHAPTER VI. THE ORIGIN" OF THE CHILD'S LANGUAGE. As previously stated, the second duty of the teacher is to enlarge and improve the child's use of language; enlarge it by expanding his vocabulary, and improve it by rendering his use of words more clear, definite, and pre- cise. Neither of these things can the teacher accom- plish without paying good heed to the steps by which the child's speech has been formed. For thorough investiga- tion of the subject, physiologically and psychologically, the reader is referred to the appropriate sources ; an out- line only is called for in this place. At birth a child has an instinctive vocal utterance, which is constantly enlarged by exercise. " There is the same spontaneous apprenticeship," says M. Taine, " for cries as for movements. The progress of the vocal organs goes on just like that of the limbs ; the child learns to emit such or such a sound as it learns to turn its head or its eyes — that is to say, by gropings and constant at- tempts." * The infant's first instinctive utterances are purely reflexive, and mean no more than the quiver of a nerve or the contraction of a muscle ; of thought, they are as devoid as the gurgling of water when it issues from the bung of a barrel. Still, these utterances are the raw * On the Acquisition of Language by Children, Mind, vol. ii, p. 252. 33 34 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. materials of speech, as sense -impressions are the raw ma- terials of ideas. They are not language save in the most indefinite sense, but they are a contribution that heredity makes to the formation of language. They are correlated with physical states ; thus, a live coal dropped on an infant's hand will cause it not only to move its hand, but also to cry out. So far the human infant does not differ from the brute infant, except that it has a greater range of utterance. In due time the infant begins to use his voice to ex- press mental states. By experience he learns that certain sounds which he hears convey meanings, and in the same way he learns to make sounds in order to convey his own meanings. He signals that he is in pain, or that he is in want of food. Slowly but surely vocal utterance becomes correlated with perception, judgment, feeling, and desire. It is at this stage that the will enters the field of activity. " Every expression of thought," says Mr. Tracy, " whether it be word or mark or gesture, is the result of an active will, and as such may be classed among movements." * Still, the first volitional expressions do not appear to be significant ; they are mere vocal experiments. By this time consonants have been added to vowels, and sounds have become articulate. The result at twelve months of age in the child whom he observed, M. Taine called " twitter- ing." " She takes delight in her twitter like a bird, she seems to smile with joy over it, but as yet it is only the twittering of a bird, for she attaches no meaning to the sounds she utters. She has learned only the materials of language." f Even more, the first words that are uttered are meaningless ; they are not associated with any object * The Psychology of Childhood, p. 115, second edition. t Mind, vol. ii, p. 253. THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S LANGUAGE. 35 that marks the advent of proper language ; so that the child's first word, which is hailed with so much interest by fond parents, brothers, and sisters, is important as a promise rather than as an achievement. The next step is the use of words with meanings. With the expression of ideas, feelings, and wants in articulate words, proper language begins. Here the human infant parts company for good with the brute infant. The oaths of poor Poll, being purely mechanical, are not ac- counted profanity. From this time on the knowledge and the language of the normal child in general march to- gether pari passu ; knowledge advancing to the furthest reach of thought and the loftiest creations of the imagi- nation, language advancing to the fit expression of all that thought can think or imagination picture. Here we are brought back again to the correlation of the two factors. The child's mental development is measured approxi- mately by the rapidity of his progress toward a skilful manipulation of the instruments of expression ; on the other hand, thought itself attains to generality through the aid of language. Such, in outline, appears to be the process by whichA the instinctive vocal utterance of the infant is transformed / into the vernacular speech of the youth and the adult. Still, this transformation would never be effected without the intervention of agents yet to be mentioned. These must be enumerated. The first of these agents is instinctive mimicry ; the child unconsciously imitates the sounds that he hears. The second agent is conscious mimicry ; the child intentionally imitates or reproduces sounds that he has heard. Imitation begins before the child has made dis- covery of the fact that sounds convey meanings, and it is accelerated when that discovery is made. Just as the 36 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. discovery of the uses of walking re-enforces the child's dis- position to use his legs that results from the pleasure of activity, so the discovery of the significance of sounds stimulates the desire to make them. The process of cor- relating states of mind and sounds, as words, is a slow one, but it is greatly facilitated by the pleasure that the child finds in mere vocal experimentation. It may also be observed that the difficulty of making this correlation — that is, of associating meanings with sounds — has a moral as well as an intellectual bearing.* Imitation explains the utterance of words by the child without meaning. It is a habit that the child begins, and that the adult, with less excuse, continues. M. Taine wrote of the child that he studied, when she was about fifteen months old : " ' Papa ' was pronounced for more than a fortnight unintentionally and without meaning, as a mere twitter, an easy and amusing articulation. It was * This point is thus touched by Jean Paul in a passage quoted by Radestock (Habit, page 84) : " In the first five years our children say no true word and no lying one ; they only talk. Their speak- ing is a loud thinking ; but as often one half of the thought is Yes and the other No, and they, unlike us, utter both ; they appear to lie, while they only speak to themselves. Furthermore, they enjoy playing with the art of speech new to them ; thus they often speak nonsense, only to listen to their own knowledge of language." This may be somewhat exaggerated, but is true in the main. We are so in the habit of attributing ethical significance to language, that it is hard for us to appreciate the difficulty with which that associa- tion is practically established. At first the child has no more idea of telling the truth with his tongue than he has of telling it with his eyelids or toes. As Jean Paul says, the organs of speech are things to play with like the other organs of the body. The idea that there is a special relation existing between speech and veracity, that by our words we are justified and by our own words condemned, comes with the development of speech and of the moral sense. THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S LANGUAGE. 37 later that the association between the word and the image or perception of the object was fixed, that the image or perception of her father called to her lips the sound papa, that the word uttered by another definitely and regularly called up in her the remembrance, image, expectation of, and search for, her father. There was an insensible tran- sition from the one state to the other, which it is difficult to unravel. The first state still returns at certain times, though the second is established ; she still sometimes plays with the sound, though she understands its mean- ing." * Father, mother, sister, brother, nurse, and other mem- bers of the child's social circle act upon the child in two ways, unconsciously and consciously ; in both ways they set him copies or models and constantly stimulate his activity. Thus the members of the family become his teachers ; commonly they are as anxious to teach as the child is to learn ; but, whether anxious to teach or not, they do teach constantly, both by setting copies and by furnishing stimulus to talk. " Baby say so ! " 'with an appropriate illustration, is a constant exhortation that an- swers both purposes. Instinctive vocal utterance is the first contribution, and the power of imitation the second contribution, that Na- ture makes to speech. Given instinctive utterance, it is imitation that makes speech education possible. " It is obvious at a glance," says Mr. Tracy, " that speech is a product of the conjoint operation of these two factors : heredity and education. If, on the one hand, we observe the initial babbling of the infant, and notice its marvellous fiexibility, and the enormous variety of its in- tonations and inflections — and this at an age so early as * Mind, vol. ii, p. 254. 38 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. to preclude observation and imitation of others, — it will be apparent that the child has come into the world al- ready possessing a considerable portion of the equipment by which he shall in after-years give expression to his feelings and thoughts. If, on the other liand, we care- fully observe him during the first two years of his life, and note how the intonations, and afterward the words, of those by whom he is surrounded are given back by him — at first unconsciously, but afterwards with intention — and how, when conscious imitation has once set in, it plays thenceforth the predominating role, we shall readily believe that, without this second factor, but little prog- ress would be made toward speech acquirement." * Nature, then, supplies the instinctive tendency and ca- pacity to speak, and also the power that moulds the mind and the vocal organs according to the conventional stand- ard of speech. At what time the child begins to per- ceive that sounds convey meanings, and accordingly tries to talk, it is hard to say, but mere love of imitation is an earlier impulse, f * The Psychology of Childhood, p. 116. t Mr. Darwin says the sounds uttered by birds offer in several aspects the nearest analogy to language ; all the members of the same species utter the same instinctive cries expressive of their emotions ; and all the kinds that have the power of singing exert this power instinctively ; but the actual song, and even the call- notes, are learned from their parents or foster-parents. These sounds are no more innate than language is in man. The first at- tempt to sing may be compared to the imperfect endeavour in a child to babble. The young males continue practising for ten or eleven months. Their first essays show hardly a rudiment of the future song; but as they grow older we can perceive what they are aiming at ; and at last they are said " to sing their song round." Nestlings that have learned the songs of a distant species, as with the canary birds educated in the Tyrol, teach and transmit THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S LANGUAGE. 39 Let it be remembered that in the early process of speech education imitation is the master agent, indeed the sole agent. It determines (1) whether the child shall talk like a man, howl like a wolf, growl like a bear, or bark like a dog ; (2) whether he shall speak the English, the French, or some other language ; and (3) whether he shall speak this language with purity and propriety, or with dialectical, provincial, or family peculiarities of form, pronunciation, or accent. The boy was right who gave as a reason for drawling his words, " Mother — drawls — hern." The normal child who is accustomed to good English and nothing else, uses good English. The man who " talks like a book " is the man who has been moulded by book language. Thus, a man's language is a measure of the company he has kept, as well as of him- self. His sj)eech shows the quality of his home and his social surroundings. Perhaps a child has an inherited tendency to the language of his country or his family, as the German to German, the Frenchman to French, but if such be the fact imitation easily overcomes the tendency. Speech j^ therefore, is eminently a social phenomenon. " Language is possible in all normal children," says Mr. Tracy ; " it becomes actual only in the presence of a com- panion. But given the companion, and scarcely any limit can be set to the possibilities of development."* However, the companionship must be a real one. The reason why the child born cLegf is also born mute is not'^^ because he is destitute of instinctive utterance, but be- their new song to their offspring. The slight natural differences of song in the same species inhabiting different districts may be appositely compared to provincial dialects ; and the songs of allied though distinct species may be compared with the language of dis- tinct races of men. — The Descent of Man, vol. i, pp. 53, 54. ♦ The Psychology of Childhood, p. 118. 40 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. cause he can not imitate sounds ; when he does learn to talk, if ever, it is by watching and imitating the motions of another's lips. In this analysis we have found no trace of rule or formal method. As far as we have gone, neither rule nor method has played any part whatever in the process. In learning to talk, the child receives much correction, but no precepts. He follows example or copy: use and wont do the work. While it is impos- sible nicely to assign to either kind of imitation its own due eilect, we hazard nothing in saying that we con- stantly tend to underestimate the unconscious or instinc- tive element. Accordingly, the child's vernacular speech results from the training of an instinctive function. It grows with his growth and strengthens with his strength. It is part and parcel of his mind and character, and perhaps of his physical organization. It is woven into the very texture of his being. It is his linguistic integument, fitting him as nicely as his skin. Moreover, it must be expanded and renovated in a way similar to that in which it was formed. One can not lay off his linguistic habit and put on another that is more to his liking, as he may a coat. He must grow it off, as the stag grows off his horns ; slough it, as the snake sloughs his skin. And yet, as we shall see hereafter, criticism will facilitate the process. Note.— The ancients clearly saw the function of imitation in education. Plato devotes much space to the subject, discussing the office of imitation in dancing, language, music, painting, science, literary style, and in the formation of the character itself (Laws, ii, C55, 6G8; Cratylus, 423, 426, 427; Republic, iii, 393, 394). Xen- ophon also lays stress upon imitation, holding virtually that it is the most effective way to teach children behaviour and manners (Cyropaedia, i, 2). Aristotle discusses the relation of mimesis to art (Rhetoric, i, 11 ; Politics, i, 1, 23). Aristotle also enjoins the THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S LANGUAGE. 41 directors of education to be careful what tales or stories children hear, and also to see that they are left as little as possible with slaves (Politics, vii, 17). The Greeks were very particular about the lan- guage that their children acquired through personal contact with others (see Mahaify : Old Greek Education, p. 13). Plutarch, in his well-known essay entitled Of the Training of Children, urges that the companions of children shall be well bred and shall speak plain, natural Greek, " lest, being constantly used to converse with persons of a barbarous language and evil manners, they receive corrupt tinc- tures from them. For it is a true proverb ' that if you live with a lame man you will learn to halt.' " Of all the writers of antiquity who touch the subject of education, Quintilian most abounds in practical thoughts. He understood perfectly the part that imita- tion plays in the language-arts. He laid stress upon the function of the nurse. Before all things let the talk of the child's nurse not be ungrammatical. To the morals of nurses, doubtless, attention should first be paid ; " but let them also speak with propriety. It is they that the child will hear first ; it is their words that he will try to form by imitation. We are by nature most tenacious of what we have imbibed in our infant years, as the flavour with which you scent vessels when new remains in them; nor can the colours of wool, for which its plain whiteness has been exchanged, be effaced ; and those very habits which are of a more objectionable nature adhere with the greater tenacity ; for good ones are easily changed for the worse, but when will you change bad ones into the good ? Let the child not be accustomed, therefore, even while he is yet an infant, to phraseology which must be unlearned." — (Institutes of Ora- tory, i, 1, 15, Watson's translation). As to the parents, Quintilian would by all means have them persons of learning ; as to the play- fellows and companions of young gentlemen, he made the same recommendations as concerning nurses. The Roman professor fully recognised the fact that correction and criticism were second to im- itation. Roger Ascham says : — " Imitation is a facultie to expresse liuelie and perfitelie that example: which ye go about to follow. And of it selfe, it is large and wide : for all the workes of nature, in a manner be examples for arte to follow. " But to our purpose, all languages, both learned and mother tonges, be gotten, and gotten onlie by imitation. For as ye vse to 42 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. heare, so ye learne to speake : if ye heare no other, ye speaks not your selfe : and whome ye onlie heare, of them ye onlie learne. " And, therefore, if ye would speake as the best and wisest do, ye must be conuersant, where the best and wisest are : but if you be borne or brought up in a rude countrie, ye shall not chose but speake rudelie : the rudest man of all knoweth this to be trewe." — (The Scholemaster.) CHAPTER YIL THE LANGUAGE-ARTS li^ THE LOWER GRADES. To adopt Professor Laurie's admirable analysis, lan- guage may be studied under three aspects, as follows : — 1. As the substance of thought. This means the con- tent or meaning of language, and relates, of course, to its characteristic function. This aspect of language is uni- versal, but there is no particular study that deals with it. 2. As the form of thought. This means the reflexive study of language ; the study, not of the substance that the language conveys as a vehicle, but of the vehicle itself. This aspect of language is called grammar, and its educa- tional value will be explained hereafter. 3. As an art. This means literature as such, or liter- ary art. There is no formal study that is coextensive with this aspect of language, but it is included in aesthet- ics, or what Lord Kames called "criticism." Here we deal with the ideal elements of language. Thus language is a real study, a formal study, and an art study. As " siihstance of thought," says Laurie, " lan- guage instructs and fills the mind of youth with the words of wisdom, with the material of knowledge, and guides it to the meaning and motives of a rational existence, and while doing all this it at the same time trains the intelligence : as a formal study, it further disciplines the intelligence, and gives vigour and discriminative force to intellectual 43 44 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. operations in all the relations of the human mind to things, and therefore to the conduct of life : as literature, . . . language cultivates, by opening the mind to a per- ception of the beautiful in form and the ideal in thought and action. It does this by bringing the prosaic truths of goodness and duty into the sphere of the idea, and so evoking and directing those aspirations, inherent in rea- son, which find their highest expression in spiritual re- alities." * It will be seen that literature, properly so called, is something wholly different from the grammatical struc- ture of language, and in great part different also from its concrete substance. Literature and language, or rather literature and printed language, are by no means co- extensive. This third aspect of the subject, the aesthetic one, will claim our attention in a later chapter. Now, it is perfectly evident that in the first stage of school life the child can do nothing with language as the form of thought or as beauty of expression. He can not enter upon grammar or upon literary art. But with lan- guage as substance of thought, or reality, he can deal, pro- vided this substance is properly handled. He can not, indeed, be expected at first to receive new knowledge or new ideas from the printed page. For the time his strength is mainly absorbed in the technical elements of reading; he can do nothing more on the thought side than to associate old ideas with their printed symbols ; and so some time must elapse before reading can become to him a source of real knowledge. He may all the time be add- ing, and should all the time be adding, to his real knowl- edge through direct contact with thought-material ; his studies of things and his study of the art of reading should * Language and Linguistic Method, p. 96. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE LOWER GRADES. 45 be as closely connected as possible ; but it still remains true that, at this stage of progress, i:eadirigjiselfj or read- ing proper, is not a source of such knowledge. The teacher must take the child where she finds him in re- spect to both mental and language power, and seek to develop him in both directions. The principal methods or devices that may be employed will now be enumerated. 1. The first means to be employed by the teacher is conversations with the class on suitable subjects suggest- ed by the incidents of everyday life in school and out of school. The pupils should be encouraged to engage freely in these conversations, encouraged to reproduce their own observation and experience. While the lan- guage used by the teacher should be somewhat in advance of that habitually used by the class, it should yet be with- in their comprehension. Judgment and tact will prevent the introduction of improper subjects.* 2. The second means is tales and stories in prose and * How potent a means of education communication is, Lord Ba- con suggests in his essay entitled Of Friendship. " Certain it is," he says, " that whosoever hath his mind fraught with many thoughts, his wits and understanding do clarify and break up, in the commu- nicating and discoursing with another : he tosseth his thoughts more easily; he marshaleth them more orderly; he seeth how they look when they are turned into words; finally, he waxeth wiser than himself ; and that more by an hour's discourse than by a day's meditation. It was well said by Themistocles to the King of Persia, that speech was like cloth of Arras, opened and put abroad ; whereby the imagery doth appear in figure ; whereas in thoughts they lie but as in packs. Neither is this second fruit of friendship, in opening the understanding, restrained only to such friends as are able to give a man counsel (they, indeed, are best) : but even without that, a man learneth of himself, and bringeth his own thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a word, a man were better relate himself to a statua or picture than to suffer his thoughts to pass in smother." 46 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. verse. At first the teacher should herself tell or read the stories and tales ; then make them the subject of con- versation, requiring the pupils to reproduce them in their own words as fully as possible. Fairyland may be drawn upon as well as history, travel, and biography. To those educationists who object that fairy tales are fictitious, and that only the real should be taught, Professor Laurie re- plies that " the imagination of little children is very active in the sphere of the possible and impossible ; that this nor- mal activity of the imagination contributes largely to the growth, culture, and enrichment of mind ; and that it has to be taken advantage of by the educator who respects law wherever he finds it." " Where would Homer and Sophocles have been," he asks, " had they not imbibed mythological lore with their mother's milk ? Even the genius of Shakespeare would have perished in the thirsty desert of a childhood of bare facts." He further affirms that " what applies to children applies a fortiori to the adult ; and that fiction, the drama, and art ought, in con- sistency, to be excluded from all life by those who would deny the unreal to children. It might also be shown . . . that in the active imaginations of children and their ap- preciation of fairy stories, we see at work, in a rudi- mentary way, the capacity for the ideals of art and re- ligion." * There is reason to think that at present we tend to make the education of the child too matter-of-fact, too scientific, forgetting that the child has imagination and emotion as well as logical faculties. What could be better than the following from Mr. Lowell ? — " I am glad to see that what the understanding would stigmatize as useless is coming back into books written for children, which at one time threatened to become more * Lectures on Language and Linguistic Method, pp. 29, 30. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE LOWER GRADES. 4Y and more drearily practical and didactic. The fairies are permitted once more to imprint their rings on the tender sward of the child's fancy, and it is the child's fancy that often lives obscurely on to minister solace to the lonelier and less sociable mind of the man. Our nature resents the closing up of the windows on its emotional and im- aginative side, and revenges itself as it can. ... In a last analysis it may be said that it is to the sense of Wonder that all literature of the Fancy and of the Imagination appeals. I am told that this sense is the survival in us of some savage ancestor of the age of flint. If so, I am thankful to him for his longevity, or his transmitted na- ture, whichever it may be. But I have my own suspicion sometimes that the true age of flint is before and not be- hind us, an age hardening itself more and inore to those subtle influences which ransom our lives from the cap- tivity of the actual, from that dungeon whose warder is the Giant Despair. Yet I am consoled by thinking that the siege of Troy will be remembered when those of Vicks- burg and Paris are forgotten. One of the old dramatists, Thoms Heywood, has, without meaning it, set down for us the uses of the poets : " * They cover us with counsel to defend us From storms without ; they polish us within "With learning, knowledge, arts, and disciplines ; , All that is naught and vicious they sweep from us Like dust and cobwebs ; our rooms concealed Hang with the costliest hangings 'bout the walls Emblems and beauteous symbols pictured round.' " * 3. At this stage of progress object lessons are a useful mode of teaching language as well as of teaching sensible qualities. The method is to make objects subjects of conversation. It is well to keep in mind the historical * The Old English Dramatists, pp. 131, 132. F 48 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. steps by which knowledge advances. We -must remember that education had not only begun, but made considerable advancement, before the invention of letters ; that men's minds were first formed through contact with the natural world and with one another ; that what the individual ac- cumulated, he delivered by word of mouth to others ; that for long the oral teacher was the only teacher ; that mem- ory, left dependent upon itself, performed miracles, and that tradition became a great instrument of cultivation. Books and printing have changed all this to a great extent. Eelying upon books as we do, and accustomed as we are to associate ignorance and incapacity with illiteracy, we find difficulty in appreciating the heights to which men have sometimes attained who were strangers to the printed page. " The Hebrew patriarchs had small libraries, I think, if any," says the Autocrat ; " yet they represent to our imaginations a very complete idea of manhood ; and, I think, if we could ask in Abraham to dine with us men of letters next Saturday, we should feel honoured by his company." It is important to remember the sources of the primitive culture of the race, for they are still the sources of the first culture of the individual. Letters did not abolish our natural senses and mental faculties, although they have, most unfortunately, sometimes pro- moted their decay. 4. The reading lessons are a most important agency in language teaching. These should be well discussed and understood by the pupils. While the readers used in the school should meet the child nearly on his own level, intellectual and linguistic, they should also tend to en- large his knowledge and his vocabulary; they should point upward. This important subject will not be more fully discussed here, since it will be made the subject of a separate chapter. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE LOWER GRADES. 49 5. Selections of poetry should be committed to memory to be recited, to be sung, to be made the subject of con- versation. This exercise may be conducted on a generous scale ; it will confer some knowledge, but especially will it develop and refine the vocabulary, provided the selec- tions are properly made. Furthermore, it will develop taste. Beautiful poems committed to memory in child- hood will be a perennial wellspring of cultivation and delight. Nor is it necessary, or even advisable perhaps, that the pupil should understand all the passages that he learns. At this point persons who overestimate the in- tellectual elements of education commit a mistake. Pas- sages that are but faintly understood, may strongly move the imagination and mould the feelings. Who that leads an intellectual life does not every now and then, for the first time, really see into some passage which he committed to memory in childhood? * 6. The last agent to be mentioned is written exercises. Sentences, stanzas, and short paragraphs should be copied. At the beginning the slate or loose pieces of paper may be used, but afterward a book should be provided for the purpose. The exercise may be copied from the blackboard or a book, or may be taken down from the teacher's dic- tation. These exercises, though simple, should always con- tain a thought of value to the child. A few simple rules should be furnished by the teacher and be strictly insisted upon— such, for example, as these : " The sentence should always begin with a capital letter." " Proper names should begin with a capital." " The completed sentence * Sir Walter Scott understood this matter much better than some schoolmasters. " Children," he wrote, " derive impulses of a powerful and important kind from hearing things that they can not entirely comprehend. It is a mistake to write down to their under- standings. Set them on the scent, and let them puzzle it out." 60 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. should be marked by the period or the question mark." The pupil will have no difficulty, in plain cases, in dis- tinguishing between the sentence that says something and the question that asks something. Such exercises as these teach spelling, penmanship, and expression all at the same time. But more than this. The pupils should compose origi- nal exercises from the very beginning. The first sen- tences should not differ from the corresponding oral ones, save in the employment of written language in the room of oral language. At first ideas should be furnished or suggested, as well as the subject itself; afterward only the subject or topic, while the pupil is left to supply ideas and words. At a still later stage of progress the pupil should be thrown wholly upon his own resources, leaving him to find subject, ideas, and language. Such exercises naturally connect themselves with object lessons, as the primary books devoted to language lessons amply illus- trate. These original sentences are the germ of the future theme or essay. The foregoing suggestions of method should be ac- companied by several remarks. First, as has been intimated, these suggestions have more value than at first appears. The words "language" and "literature" are far from exhausting their value. For example, it is through stories and tales that Ger- man teachers lay the foundation of that admirable work in history which is the praise of the German schools. The Herbart-Ziller school of pedagogists, who lay such great stress upon history, say instruction should begin at the beginning of school life. Holding that the child's love for stories is the first awakening of his mind to historic interest, they make it their first endeavour to stimulate this love by systematic story-telling. The art THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE LOWER GRADES. 51 of telling a story they regard as the final test of a teach- er's skill, and they assign it a prominent place in normal school instruction. Still further, they have worked out a primary programme in accordance with their pedagogical scheme. They have arranged a number of Grimm's tales, which they make the centre of instruction for the first school year. These stories are told and retold by the teacher, reproduced item by item by the children, and around them are clustered moral and religious sentiments, material in- formation, and illustrative object lessons. The next year, connected stories from Eobinson Crusoe are treated in the same manner. Then come selected tales from the Old Testament, and still later selections from the Odyssey, the Norse Sagas, Shakespeare, Herodotus, Livy, Xenophon, and others in due order. In this way the historical sense is developed and centres of interest created before tech- nical instruction begins.* The poems that are committed to memory should be selected with reference to their ethical value. President Eliot, of Harvard University, expresses a common expe- rience when he says, " I hold in my memory bits of po- etry, learned in childhood, which have stood me in good stead through life in the struggle to keep true to just ideals of love and duty." The old poet George Herbert is right : " A verse may find him who a sermon flies." Properly managed, instruction in the language-arts devel- ops the historical, the ethical, and the literary sense, as well as power to think and power to express thought. Secondly, association continues to work as before, but under somewhat new conditions. Here, again, are the two forms of imitation, the instinctive and the conscious, * See the author's How to Study and Teach History, chap. v. 62 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. and the scope of their activity is increased through tho enlargement of environment. The school is now added to the family and to the social circle — the school consist- ing of the teacher and the scholars. The last are a po- tent factor. " You send your boy to the schoolmaster," says Emerson, " but it is the schoolboys who educate him." Sometimes the school shows an improvement and sometimes a deterioration in the linguistic environment ; but, on the average, we may believe that the new stage in child life shows improved conditions. The linguistic effect of pupil upon pupil may be likened to the moral effect. To a certain extent parents and teachers can ex- ercise a selective influence here, as in respect to manners, morals, and general cultivation, but taking the multitude together such influence is not very great. The third observation is that small — very small — reli- ance should be placed on rules, and then only in matters that are purely mechanical. " Children are not to be taught by rules which shall always be slipping out of their memories," says John Locke. " What you think it necessary for them to do, settle in them by an indispen- sable practice. . . . Nothing sinks so quietly and deep into men's minds as examples." Even at the cost of what may seem unreasonable re- iteration, attention must once more be drawn to the rela- tions of thought and speech. If the doctrine heretofore advanced be true — that thought and language are prac- tically inseparable ; that, the two are really but different aspects of the one subject ; that growth in thought and growth in language should be promoted in the school — then the conclusion may perhaps be drawn that instruc- tion along either line will answer in both lines. Not so ; thought and language do not measure each other abso- lutely ; and although it is true that good instruction in THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE LOWER GRADES. 53 either line helps in the other one, still there must be separate and distinct instruction in both lines. It is a question of emphasis ; now thought will be emphasized, and then language. The common child will not pick up the elementary school arts by the way, without his own •knowledge, but he must consciously learn them. He will not learn to read, write, and compose essays with power, ease, and correctness, incidentally, while giving exclusive attention or preponderant attention to something else. Thought-expression must be emphasized as well as thought- material. From birth to death there are four agents that pro- mote our education in vernacular language — that develop our powers of mind, and enlarge and clarify our means of expression. These agents are here enumerated in the order of their value : — 1. Association, or social relations with our fellows, in- cluding listening to cultivated speech of a formal charac- ter, as sermons, orations, and the like. 2. The reading of good literature, both in and out of school. 3. Formal instruction in the language-arts, speech, reading, and composition. 4. The scientific study of language, and particularly of one's vernacular, or grammar. The first of these agents works in the life of the child from its birth, ceaselessly and powerfully. In no field of human activity or cultivation does imitation play a greater part than here. The second and third agents do not ap- pear in the life of a majority of children until they go to school ; and even in the minority, who have made some progress in those arts before that time, they work but feebly. Here, too, imitation asserts itself strongly. The fourth agent never becomes a practical factor in the edu- 54 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. cation of a majority of children, because they do not study grammar ; while in the cases of those who do study it, it is much less eifective than the other three. At the present time there is much comment upon the bad training in English of the youth of the country, and particularly of those who come to the better colleges. There can be no question that this comment has much justification. In the search for causes of the existing state of things, and in the attempts to locate the blame, quite insufficient attention has been paid to the relatively low stage of general cultivation, including the language- arts, of the vast constituency of the schools. This state- ment includes pupils and teachers, because it includes the whole community. The schools are to blame, but not wholly so. Training in language, more than training in anything else, bespeaks the child's or the man's personal cultivation; and the roots of this cultivation are not reached directly by the conscious processes of the school. COMMENT OX CHAPTER VII. There are at least three things which the language work of the primary grades should try to do : 1. To lead the children to form the habit of using language grammat- ically correct ; 2, to form the habit of expressing themselves clearly ; and what may be included in this, 3, to increase their vocabula/'ies. This necessarily includes habits of careful observation and discrimination as a basis for any kind of expression. It is sometimes thought that any conversation, no matter how desultory, answers every purpose for primary language. While children should be encouraged to talk at the proper time and place, rambling talk about anything which may happen to suggest itself is far from having the highest value. In order to reach the best results even in the lower grades, it is by far most satisfactory to have definite lessons on certain subjects in which the children are led to see new things, and then let the language come because they have something to which they wish to give expression. What is now commonly known as Nature work affords an excellent opportunity. The children examine bark, buds, leaves, flowers, and fruit ; they observe birds and animals, their habits and uses. They plant seeds and watch the sprouting and growing ; they notice differences in soil, temperature, moisture, sunshine, and clouds. They learn to use their eyes and hands, and as a result they have some- thing worth talking about. They have been making a series of discoveries which, to them, are as important as if they were made for the first time. The children may have planted beans in a box, noted the condition of the soil, the light, and moisture. Then came the sprouting, which they also watched — the stem with the parts of the bean lifted 54a TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. above the ground and the roots. Later came the blossoms, then the bean pods. All of these changes were noted from day to day, as they carefully watched their plants. Certainly nothing could be better fitted for language work than such observations as these. As far as smoothness and rhetorical finish of the children's language are concerned, the teacher must not be in too great a hurry for these qualities. In addition to this material, there are elementary lessons in literature, myths, and legends. These the teacher tells or reads to the children, and they in turn represent their ideas in drawings and oral reproductions. A word should be said here in regard to myths, fairy tales, and legends for children. Some careful thought has been given this subject by men in whom the educational world has a great deal of confidence. One objection offered is that many of the ideas presented are absolutely false. No bean stalk ever grew as high as a house in a single night ; a dragon's teeth, if sowed, would not spring up into swords — besides, there is no such thing as a dragon ; science can find no trace of a monster the hairs of whose head were writhing snakes : it is impossible that a person might be chained to a rock for ages and be compelled to submit to the torment of having his internal organs constantly eaten out by vul- tures and then these organs be as constantly restored ; it is all an untruth about there being a Santa Glaus and his coming down the chimney. It is said that these things are absolutely false, and if a child learns them he must after- ward take time from positiv^e work to unlearn these child- ish fancies. Material of this kind, it is said, gives children a distorted idea of life, of Nature, and of cause and effect. But before deciding to discard this gresrt field of ma- terial, the teacher ought to consider some points presented on the other side. In the first place, it is admitted that as far as some of these stories are concerned the children are better off without them. I should question very much the advisability of reading to children the Gorgon's Head, Snow White (Hans Andersen), or Prometheus. The teacher must exercise good judgment 54b COMMENT ON CHAPTER VII. in selecting them. But most of these stories have in them a fundamental truth. They have figured in literature, music, sculpture, and painting through many centuries. It is doubt- less because of this element of truth that they have lived. They oftentimes represent the race at a period of its devel- ) opment when it sieemed necessary to use concrete animals and people in which to embody the truth as men saw it. j These stories can be presented in such a way that the chil- dren see that the form or concrete embodiment is not the thing which is the truth — it is only the setting which holds the stone and shows it to good advantage. There is a little story that the bluebell was once a white flower growing at the bottom of a valley. All this little flower could see was a bit of blue sky by day and a star at night. Looking up- ward all day long, it wished it might change its colour to that of the spot of sky it saw and loved. One evening when the star looked down, it saw the little flower was no longer white — it was the colour of the bit of sky above it. It came to be like the thing it saw and loved. It hardly seems necessary to point out the great truth in this little bluebell's story. It is the same as the principle which Hawthorne put in The Great Stone Face and Victor Hugo in Jean Valjean in his Les Miserables. It is the life history of every person who has an ideal and who consciously and persistently works toward it — he, after a while, becomes the embodiment of his ideal. No insignificant part of a child's life is made up of his own fancies. Well-selected legends and fairy tales help to supply material for this phase of the child's creative life, and at the same time it is furnishing him with a fund of mytho- logical and legendary lore that will be invaluable later in life in interpreting the fine arts. Then again there are certain phases of historical mate- rial that every primary child should be led to see and appre- ciate. He should hear from the teacher the stories of Thanks- giving, Christmas, Easter, and Decoration Day. He should hear of a few of the poets, statesmen, artists, and philanthro- pists, such as Longfellow, Whittier, and Bryant ; Washing- 54c TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. ton, Peabody, Luther, and Lincoln — probably on their birth- days. On these days, or rather at these times, the child should learn about the particular civilization of the time and place of the man under discussion. The child ought to live, in a small way at least, what the race has lived at dif- ferent periods. He best appreciates this if the childhood of the man is most dwelt upon. For example, if Lincoln is taken as a boy living in the log cabin in Kentucky, with a vivid description of the house and furniture ; the trip over into Indiana, with the mule team and all that the Lincoln family possessed loaded on the wagon ; the misfortune when crossing the Ohio River ; the kind of home made in Indiana ; and so on through the entire life. The children see how people used to live in the home, how they travelled, how business was carried on, through the story of the lives of representative men. By following several men they come to see that our present civilization is an outgrowth of the past. Throughout all this work the teacher must be master of the art of story telling. She must be able to put all the facts in such a way that they will be comprehended, be interest- ing, and at the same time make her language an embodiment well worth the child's imitation. Then the child should be encouraged to enter fully into the spirit and tell the story to the teacher and other children. He should not be held to telling it in his own words, but encouraged to use as many of the words and expressions from the book or the teacher's story as he can. One thing desired is that the children will not hold to their own limited vocabularies, but appropriate as much as possible of the excellencies of the language they hear. Punctuation and capitalization should be begun with the very first year of school, when the children make their stories from the letter cards on their desks or write them on the board. This should be a habit long before stereotyped composition work is begun. This is a brief sketch of the main materials that are sources for the most helpful language work. The teacher should make sure that the material or the thought upon 54d COMMENT ON CHAPTER VII. which the child works in language will be just as helpful ill after life in interpreting the great world around him as is his ability to communicate with his fellows. I'he teacher must stand ready at all times to give the child new words when he is ready for them. It may be done in a direct way, as when the children are talking about four-footed and two-footed animals and she gives the terms quadruped and biped. Or they may be talking about the parts of the flower, and she tells them the parts are called calyx and corolla, sepals and petals. This is a very common way of increasing the child's vocabulary. But there is another plan that requires more skill on the part of the teacher but is a great aid in this line. It is by the teacher's using words which are new to the children, but using them in such a way that the children infer the meaning. A child asked the teacher for assistance and the teacher said she would help her as soon as it was convenient for her to do so. The word convenient was new to the child. In the conversation the teacher used the word three times, and in such a way that the child knew just what was meant. In a very few days this child used the word convenient of her own accord. This is simply typical of the general way in which children acquire most of their words. Teachers must learn to talk a little above their children. Children can grasp the meaning (if rightly done) and will acquire a fuller vocabulary by listening to one better than their own. The teacher might use material that would give the child great readiness in the use of language, but no ideas that are specially helpful in themselves. On the other hand, just as good language drill can be had upon subjects that in them- selves are helpful, or in any other way, and so the children are twice helped. However, the teacher must not forget that one distinct end for which she is working is readiness in the use of clear, correct English, and even if ideas are clear, the expression must reach just as high a standard. This necessi- tates a careful watch of the children's spoken language that errors may be avoided. It is a very difficult matter to cor- rect children's bad habits, and nothing but persistence in this 54e TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. correction wiH break them after they are formed. This mat- ter of insisting on the pupil using correct English should characterize every grade from the lowest to the highest. It need only be mentioned that, like other phases of criticism, it should be done carefully and not in such a way that the pupil makes a half promise to himself not to say another word in the teacher's hearing. It should not be necessary to say that the teacher's Eng- lish should be above reproach. The teacher's language is the children's model, and when she says "seen" for "saw," " went " for " have gone," and " was " for " were," there is indeed little hope for the language of the children who go to that school. A person who violates every rule in his con- versation sometimes makes a grade high enough on technical grammar to give him a license. It is a wrong done to little children to be required to pass several hours a day listening to incorrect English.— S. E. T-C. 54f CHAPTER VIII. THE LAKGUAGE-AETS IJ^ THE HIGHER GRADES AND 11^ THE HIGH SCHOOLS. There can be no greater mistake in educational theory than to suppose that the child, at any given time, passes by a leap from one stage of mental development to another, and no greater mistake in educational practice than sud- denly to put aside one set of agencies for another set. The child-life is a continuous evolution — enlarging indeed rap- idly at times, but never so rapidly as to snap the thread of continuity. Since there is no break in the child-life at the age of eight years, there should be no break in the teacher's regimen. Changes of method and of regimen should come as gradually as the changes of the mind itself. Sameness in kind, however, does not necessitate sameness in degree. Progressively, the exercises that are continued into the second period of school life from the first one should be made more thorough and more difficult, as the child is able to bear them. Still further, the total amount of stress or emphasis may be, and should be, reapportioned or redistributed. For example, as the pupil ascends the grades less stress should be laid upon concrete facts and ideas, and more upon abstract facts and ideas. The full training of a mind demands that abstract subjects should receive due attention in their time as well as object les- sons in their time. 55 56 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Accordingly, the means to be employed in teaching the language-arts after the third year do not really differ in kind from those employed before that time, save in one or two particulars. In the first years of the new period that now begins all the agencies before mentioned should still be continued. Some stress must be withdrawn, as the work goes on, from the oral exercises, and be put upon the reading and writing exercises. The pupil must slowly learn how to use a book — that is, really to read ; and this he will never do unless he uses books. Noth- ing is more destructive of good habits in the pupil than the continuous flow of the teacher's talk, no matter how good the talk may be. As the grades are passed the teacher should become less prominent in the school life, and the subjects of study, and notably the printed page, become more prominent. " For what other purpose has teaching," asks Quintilian, " than that a pupil may at last be under no necessity of being taught ? " I shall now describe in order the exercises to be employed in this more advanced stage of language- teaching. 1. The copying and dictation exercises should be con- tinued as a rule. Sentences may be dismissed, and the stanza, the paragraph, and the poem used instead. It will be found advantageous in time to cause the pupil to transcribe considerable compositions. The benefits of such exercises are obvious. Besides being lessons in spell- ing, in penmanship, and in expression, they enrich the understanding, enlarge the vocabulary, and lay the foun- dation of style. If the pupil falls into the spirit of the piece. Imitation will at once begin to work her spell. Demosthenes, it is said, copied Thucydides's History of the Peloponnesian War six times with his own hand. But it will not do to permit such exercises to degenerate THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE HIGHER GRADES. 57 into mere mechanical routine ; they must be made fully intelligent. 2. Composing themes or essays. The most marked difference between the second period and the first one is the expansion of the constructive work. A characteristic exercise is the story, theme, or essay, which at first should be limited to the single paragraph. To bridge the chasm between the single sentences of the first grades and the formal compositions of later grades, is the hardest thing to be done in teaching composition. Here no better method can be employed than the one anciently described by Quintilian. He first recommends that those pupils who are too young to enter upon the direct study of oratory shall, in the first place, " relate orally the fables of ^sop, which follow next after the nurse's stories, in plain language, not rising at all above mediocrity, and afterwards to express the same simplicity in writing." He then recommends paraphrasing. As to the poets, let the boys take to pieces their verses, and then express them in different words; and afterwards represent them, "some- what boldly, in a paraphrase, in which it is allowable to abbreviate or embellish certain parts, provided that the sense of the poet be preserved." He recommends also the writing of sentences, and especially of what he calls clirim^ which is the relation of some saying or action, and not different apparently from the " story " method so com- monly found in our schools.* It would be very unwise, however, to call the simple exercises done at the beginning of these grades essays or compositions. Professor Laurie thinks " essays " should not appear until the fourteenth year. Much depends upon a name or a definition. The fact is, if the language w^ork * Institutes of Oratorv, i, 9, 3. 68 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. is properly graded you can not tell when the pupil writes his first essay, so insensibly will language lessons shade into essays. 3. Paraphrasing. What has already been said about oral paraphrasing is equally true of written. Much more is also to be said of both. Professor Laurie objects to paraphrasing, which he calls "turning into commonplace language, which 'any fellow may understand,' the verses of a poet, or the succinct prose of such writers as Bacon and Browne. ... A more detestable exercise," he says, "I do not know. It is a vile use of pen and ink. ... To paraphrase Milton or Shake- speare," he goes on, " is to turn the good into the inferior or bad, and to degrade literature. Moreover, it is false. For the youth who has done it imagines that his sentences give all that is to be found in the original Milton or Bacon. If this were so, then there would, alas ! be no such thing as literature, no such thing as art in language. When all is done, you have no longer got Bacon or Milton, but only your much lesser self." * It is interesting to observe that Eoger Ascham held the same view. " It is a bold com- parison indeed," he says in The Scholemaster, " to think to say better than that is best. Such turning of the best into worse is much like the turning of good wine out of a fair sweet flagon of silver into a foul, musty bottle of leather ; or to turn pure gold and silver into foul brass and cop- per." Quintilian, however, recommended paraphrasing, very much to Aschani's disgust. To much paraphrasing the objection is perfectly valid. The object of the exer- cise is not, as Ascham seems to suppose, to better what is best, but rather to improve the style of the pupil. Still, there is no merit in simply marring what is beautiful. A * Pp. 50, 51. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE HIGHER GRADES. 69 writer in the Saturday Review deservedly condeoins the making-over of such lines as these : " To mute and to material things New life revolving summer brings ; The gentle call dead Nature hears, And in her glory reappears." The flowers of literature are too delicate and fragile to be roughly handled. To paraphrase, for instance, Tenny- son's BBook is most absurd ; the poem is ethereal, all music, and one might as well paraphrase the song of the lark. But if narrative verse is chosen, verse that has body and substance, paraphrasing is a very useful exercise, as most teachers will testify. Passages of Sir Walter Scott's poems, stories as they are and full of fire and animation, may be recommended as good material. To a degree the contro- versy is one about words. Even Laurie recommends what he calls "resolution" or "dialysis," which consists in the writing out of a piece of poetry in grammatical prose order, supplying words understood, but always preserving the language of the poet. 4. The imitation of chosen models. The recommenda- tion of this practice does not mean that the pupil shall consciously copy an author's style. Such a course would destroy individuality and end in helplessness. The model should rather work in the pupil, and through him, as it will do if he really becomes absorbed in the model. The beneficial influence of great writers upon style is indirect. The stronger an author's personality, the stronger the hold that he will take of his readers and the greater will be his influence. Students of Bacon, Milton, or Shake- speare are influenced not so much directly in their thought or style as indirectly through what they absorb uncon- sciously. At first, nothing more can be expected than that the pupil will fall into the author's mode of express- 60 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. ing thought, which he will do if really interested. After- ward he should study authors critically. Dr. Johnson said a man who wished to write well should give his days and nights to Addison, which is sound advice, provided Addison is thought to be a proper model. It is especially important that the teaching of the lan- guage-arts should be conducted on the intensive plan. There is a reciprocal relation between speaking and read- ing, while language or composition should be kept in close touch with the reading lessons, and particularly with the literature. The study of literature will furnish subjects and materials as well as models of expression. Constant care must be taken to develop literary taste, and this can be done only through constant contact with good reading matter. Khetoric and criticism may purge the taste, but alone they never reform it any more than they form it in the first place. 5. Translation. There can be no doubt that this exer- cise is very beneficial to those students who carefully study a foreign language. It involves the two elements of un- conscious imitation and of practice. Translation was the great reliance of Ascham in teaching Latin. He strongly advises what he called "double translations" — that is, first rendering a letter of Cicero's, for example, into English, and then translating it again into Latin. These are his words : " Translation is easy in the beginning for tiie scholar, and bringeth also much learning and great judgment to the master. It is most common and most commendable of all other exercises for youth. Most common for all your constructions in grammar schools be nothing else but translations ; but because they be not double trans- lations, as I do require, they bring forth but simple and single commodity, and because also they lack the daily THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE HIGHER GRADES. 61 use of writing, which is the only thing that breedeth deep root, both in the wit, for good understanding, and in the memory, for sure keeping of all that is learned. Most commendable also, and that by the judgment of all au- thors which entreat of these exercises." * Still, it is a mistake to teach the second language in school in the early grades. It leads to confusion and weakness ; what is gained in the foreign tongue is lost in the mother tongue. On this point Professor Laurie's re- marks quoted on a previous page may be again cited. Still, I must not fail to remark that it is very desirable for those children who are expected to study one or more languages at some time to take up the second one before the high school is reached. The foregoing suggestions cover in general the whole field of language work up to the high school; indeed, properly expanded, they include the high school also. Some of them are of principal or exclusive application in lower grades, some in upper grades. To consider the grades, one by one, with reference to the specific kind of work that should be done in each, would not be in har- mony with the plan of this work ; nor is it thought to be necessary, especially as reading and composition will be made the subject of discussion in future chapters. To the foregoing methods of instruction two others should be added that will find their main application and use in the high school. The first of these is the study of etymologies. The derivation of words is not always a safe guide to their meaning. Language is often illogical. This is particu- larly true of the technical terms of science. " ' Hydro- gen ' and ' oxygen,' ' meiocene ' and ' pleiocene,' " says Mr. * Book II, Translation. 62 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Marsh, "are modern compounds of Greek roots, but, how- ever familiar their radicals, these terms would no more explain themselves to the intelligence of a Greek than to an unlettered Englishman." The meanings of such words must be sought in dictionaries and works of science. " We can not learn all words," Mr. Marsh proceeds, " through other words. There is a large and rapidly increasing part of all modern vocabularies, which can be comprehended only by the observation of Nature, scientific experiment, in short by the study of things. " * We can, however, learn many words through other words. Often a clear idea of a common radical will illu- minate a whole family of words. The student who sees that Latin prendere means to seize or grasp gets a firmer hold of " comprehend " and of " apprehend," and of the two large families of words of which these are members. A limited number of nouns and verbs, combined with a few prepositions, have given us a large part of our working vocabulary. " Example," " exemplification," " ensample," " sample," and the like, all go back to exemplum^ and this again to the verb eximere. " Instruction," " construction," "destruction," differ only in the three different prepo- sitions that form the first syllables. We seem to have a clearer view of the helplessness of the baby when we think of him as the " infant," the not-speaking one. A " fable " should be anything that is told, and a " legend " anything that is read, rather than what they are at present. The Roman vii^tus was courage, and the use of the word in its present sense suggests the high valuation that has been attached to that virtue. An aristocracy should be a gov- ernment of the best. " Sincerity " and " cerement " are alike in this, that the root of each is cera^ meaning wax. * Lectures on the English Language, p. 84. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE HIGHER GRADES. 63 " Trivialities " are the unconsidered matters that men are apt to exchange at the crossings of the way or road. These examples are all drawn from the Latin side of the English speech. The composition of Saxon words is often equally interesting. Consider the families of words de- rived from the names of the members of the body, hand, foot, head, and mouth. Not everybody has thought that " nosegay " is a compound of the two familiar words that compose it. Whether much time is given to the roots or not, prefixes and suffixes should, be a subject of study in all schools above the lower grades. Word-building often adds new force to the meaning of words. It gives new clearness to the pupil's ideas ; it increases his resources of expression ; and, not least, it creates a habit of observation and analysis that adds ma- terially to the interest and value of language. While it is most beneficial to students who have studied a second language, and particularly Latin, its benefits are not con- fined to them. It is therefore highly important that all teachers of language should turn the attention of their pupils to the study of etymology. The other line of study referred to is the history of words, or not so much the history of words as the history that is in words. " Words," Emerson says, " are fossil poetry." They are fossil history as well. They register opinions, states of society, political facts, the progress of ideas. The word " pagan " informs us that in the Roman Empire the villagers, pagani^ clung to the old religion when the dwellers in cities had accepted Christianity. The word " heathen " points to a similar relation be- tween the heathmen and the townsmen in Saxon Eng- land. " Rustic " and " urban " mark the contrast between country and town in manners. Politics, as the word shows, originated in the city (ttoA^^ ). " Jewsharp " and 64 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. " tenpenny " nail have each a history. With what eager interest the reader having a smattering of philology, reads the conversation between Wamba and Gurth in Ivanhoe that brings out the historical significance of swine and 2)0?'k, ox and beef, calf and veal, sheep and ■mutton! The first word of each pair is Saxon, the second Norman, show- ing, as Wamba says, that the animal is Saxon when he requires tendance, and takes a Norman name when he becomes a matter of enjoyment. Scott uses these ety- mologies to illustrate how little the Normans had left to the Saxons ; while the finest and the fattest were for the Norman board, the loveliest for the Norman couch, the best and bravest for the Norman host. The history of Europe is largely written in its languages, and the geo- graphical nomenclature of America tells of races and tribes that have passed or are passing away. " Mountains and streams," it has been said, " still murmur the voices of nations long since denationalized or extirpated." It goes without saying that the science of language has come to be an important source of historical information, but its effect on the course of history itself has not been as fully recognised. " The new theory of language," says Sir H. S. Maine, "has unquestionably produced a new theory of race. ... To this theory of race," he adds, " we owe, at all events in part, the vast development of German nationality ; and we certainly owe to it the pretensions of the Russian Empire to at least a presidency over all Sla- vonic communities." Panslavism has been called "philo- logical sentiment." The learned writer might, with equal propriety, have mentioned the part that the new race the- ory played in the unification of Italy. The interest and value of such studies as these are found mainly in discipline and in culture. And yet, whatever makes language more significant, more vivid, THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE HIGHER GRADES. 65 more picturesque, enhances its value as an instrument of thought. Study of the etymology and history of words in schools should be encouraged. Such study may be entered upon in a tentative manner before the high school is reached. Sneer as scientific philologists may at Trench's Study of Words, that book has quickened the linguistic interest of many minds; and were it brought up to the front of the latest scholarship, retaining its popular character, it would still be a good book to put on the table of every teacher of English in the country. A further word may well be said about one of the topics treated above. The translation that helps the pu- pil in his English is the actual transference of thouglit from good Latin or German into good English. The mere matching of words is of little value. Idiomatic English is what is wanted. Moreover, translation is accompanied by a double difficulty : the pupil is called upon to grasp the thought of the writer contained in a foreign language, and then to express this thought in his own language. In many cases either one of these efforts taxes his ability severely, and frequently overtaxes it. The more remote the passage from his own habitual mental life, the sorer the trial. The vehicle is new and the burden that it carries heavy. A frequent result is that translations are accepted which, in respect to English, would not for a moment be tolerated as original compositions. Accord- ingly, this is a point to be watched, lest the Latin or German lesson undoes the English lesson. COMMENT ON CHAPTER VIII. In our common and graded schools it is too frequently the habit to drop all composition or so-called language work as soon as the pupil begins grammar proper. Different phases of this composition work should be continued not only through the grades, but also through the entire high- school period. In regard to the copying and dictation work, probably a word should be said. There is great danger of this becom- ing the veriest drudgery. Unless care is taken with the spelling, punctuation, and penmanship, the pupil forms careless habits. If he puts much thought on these formal things, then he loses the thought and merely copies words. It is not unusual to see children, when doing this work, write one word, look on the book for the next, write it, look on the book again, and so on through the exercise. It may be a good exercise occasionally, but should by no means be an important one in the language work. The actual composition work, the creative work, is by far the greatest aid in the pupil's becoming reasonably good in the actual use of English. This should be one of the ele- ments in determining what kind of exercises to give. It is next to useless to tell a class they are to write com- positions, and give no more definite assignment. There should be intelligent help in selecting the subject ; in many cases, and especially at first, the teacher should give direct help in outlining the subject and in showing how to begin and how to end. A boy often says he thinks he could write on a certain subject if he only knew how to begin. In this case it is best to give positive assistance as to what it is well to say. It is also a help to the pupil to hear the teacher read a composition she has written on the same subject assigned 65a COMMENT ON CHAPTER VIII. the class. It gives the pupils some idea as to what might be said on the subject and how it might be said. It may be remarked that such an exercise is also very helpful to the teacher. She appreciates the difficulties the children en- counter far better when she tries to do what she has asked tiiem to do, and, if the teacher writes well, she gives the pupils an ideal of what may be done on their particular subjects. The four forms of discourse are description, narration, exposition, and argumentation, with persuasion possibly added as a fifth. Description deals with an object at one certain time; narration shows an object as going through changes ; exposition sets forth general ideas ; argumentation undertakes to prove certain positions taken ; and persua- sion seeks to lead the hearer or reader to do something. In our best discourses two or moi^e of these forms are fre- quently found combined in the same selection. Washing- ton Irving's Alhambra is an example of description and narration combined, while he gives an excellent example of pure description in certain parts of Westminster Abbey. Maud Muller and Vision of Sir Launfal are narrative, in form, at least. Each follows a character through a series of changes. But to those who see in each of these some great notion of human life or struggle that is universal to man, these poems become exposition in idea. This is a point worthy of most careful attention. Are we interested in Shakespeare's Macbeth simply for the story of the charac- ters, or are we interested because of some underlying truth in eternal justice that is exemplified through these char- acters ? Few of us read George Eliot's Middlemarch, Hugo's Les Miserables, Lowell's The Vision of Sir Launfal, Tennyson's Two Voices, Hawthorne's Great Stone Face, and feel that the simple story narrated is the whole thing. We instinctively feel there is some hidden truth, some beauty of life, some mes- sage for us, that is deeper than the little story itself we have read. Silas Marner goes through a great many changes, and the history of these is narration, but deeper than the life 65b TEACPIING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. history of Silas Marner is the history of every individual who takes into his heart the blessing-s that come to him and moulds his life accordingly. Viewed in this way, literature is, in form, narrative ; but in idea or function it is, in a sense, exposition. The whole burden of our arithmetics and grammars, for instance, is the exposition of general ideas. Certain chai^- ters are devoted to the subjects of adverbs, adjectives, or nouns, and all the sentences and all explanations are for the sake of this idea. While not usually classed as argu- mentation, the Declaration of Independence fulfils all the requirements. It was written with the express purpose of convincing other nations that the course the Colonies had taken in declaring themselves free from England was en- tirely justified by the treatment they had received from the Mother Country. So much for a brief consideration of the forms of dis- course. The teacher should be able to discriminate between these forms. While composition work entirely with the notion of illustrating these different forms would become a formal thing, yet if the teacher sees them clearly and the pupils in the school make a like discrimination, the actual writing will be materially helped. This knowledge becomes helpful in self-criticism. In all the grades one helpful kind of material is found in the other subjects studied. I do not mean mere reproduc- tion work, for this is likely to degenerate into the veriest drudgery. But the pupil may be asked to imagine himself as spending a day in San Francisco, Rome, or London ; he may make a trip through Mexico, Alaska, China, or Ger- many. While such discourse may take a narrative form, it will contain a great deal of descriptive matter. Such work as this should be based upon geography work carefully done. A locality should be selected upon which special emphasis has been placed. A short and profitable visit to New Orleans, for instance, would include the seeing of the old French quarter and markets, the cemeteries, and the wharf. If a longer visit could be made, then they might see 65c COMMENT ON CHAPTER VIII. Jackson Square, the Cabildo building, a rice mill, and a sugar plantation across the river. In this the pupil must have help from some source to know what are the most im- portant things to be found in a country or city, and this the geography work should give. Customs of people in differ- ent lands may be written upon by the pupil assuming to spend a day with a Turkish peasant, with an orange grower in California, with an Alaskan seal fisher, with a caravan crossing a desert. I have seen pupils do excellent work in adducing arguments to prove that Indiana is a better State for the farmer than North Dakota, while another class was in- tent upon showing that North Dakota has greater advantages than Indiana. Such discourse is plainly argumentative and belongs especially to the higher grades and high school. Historical material may be used in a somewhat similar way. When Massachusetts and Virginia are studied, the pupils find it exceedingly interesting and profitable, from both the standpoint of history and language, to write a short paper on different phases of the life of the colonists ; spend- ing a week with John Alden or Governor Berkeley, or fol- lowing an imaginary prisoner for debt in England to the settlement in Georgia. Jane Andrews has used both geo- gTaphical and historical material in her books Seven Little Sisters and Ten Boys on the Road from Long Ago till Now. The first is geographical, the latter both, but more largely historical. A proverb or maxim may be given by the teacher, and the pupils may write a story illustrating it. " A stitch in time saves nine '' and " A stone that keeps rolling gathers no moss " are simple enough for intermediate grades. An- other phase of creative work which some teachers occasion- ally use to advantage is to select some interesting short story, read it through the crisis probably, and ask pupils to finish it. By hearing the first part of the story the pupils have put themselves into the phase of creative attitude of the author, and there is always the impulse to finish the act which is once begun. If then the various endings are read and compared with that of the author, they will be led to Cod TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. see the various estimates of certain deeds and have also an excellent opportunity to compare their language with that of the author. Pupils do not know what points to select nor in what order to give them. This phase of the work is materially helped by taking some definite object, as the maple tree in the front yard, and making an outline of the points that should be given in the description of the tree. Its location seems to point to the fact that it is valuable especially for its shade, and the size, peculiar shape, and location on the west side of the house may be looked at in relation to this idea. The fact that the tree has been trimmed until it is not as high as maple trees in a forest, but has a much heavier top, must also be taken into account. This tree has such a pe- culiarly twisted trunk that one is hardly sure whether or not it is a beautiful tree. But when the children climb up and sit on the bend, play squirrel, and build crows' nests on the fiat part, this peculiar bend becomes one of the interest- ing features. The tree seems to have adapted itself to the necessities of the child life of the neighbourhood. After a careful analysis in this way, a paragraph or two on the description of this old tree is comparatively an easy matter. The influence of good models is too little appreciated. Let us look at a little piece of description from Victor Hugo : The Hunchback of Notre Dame. " We shall not attempt to give the reader any idea of that tetrahedron nose, of that horseshoe mouth, of that little left eye, stubbled up with an eyebrow of carroty bristles, while the right was overwhelmed and buried by an enormous wen : of those irregular teeth, jagged here and there like the battlements of a fortress ; of that horny lip, over which one of those teeth protruded, like the tusk of an elephant ; of that forked chin : and, above all, of the expression, that mixture of spite, wonder, and melancholy, spread over these exquisite features. Imagine such an object, if you can I . . . '' What had been mistaken for a grimace was his natural visage ; indeed, it might be said that his whole person was Goe COMMENT ON CHAPTER Vlll. but one grimace. His prodigious head was covered with red bristles ; between his shoulders rose an enormous hump, which was counterbalanced by a protuberance in front ; his thighs and legs were so strangely put together that they touched at no one point but the knees, and seen in front, resembled two sickles joined at the handles ; his feet were immense, his hands monstrous ; but with all this deformity there was a formidable air of strength, agility, and courage, constituting a singular exception to the eternal rule which ordains that force as well as beauty shall result from har- mony. He looked like a giant who had been broken in pieces and ill soldered together. " When this sort of cyclops appeared on the threshold of the chapel, motionless, squat, almost as broad as high, ' the square of his base,' as a great man expresses it, the populace instantly recognised him by his coat, half red and half pur- ple, sprinkled with silver bells, and more especially by the perfection of his ugliness, and cried out with one voice : ' It is Quasimodo, the bell ringer ! it is Quasimodo, the hunch- back of Notre Dame ! Quasimodo, the one-eyed ! Quasi- modo, the bandy-legged ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! ' " An eighth-grade teacher put this description of the hunch- back on the board for study. She selected this because it is a clear-cut, well-defined piece of description easily analyzed and given in Hugo's inimitable style. The class found the first paragraph gives the description of the face ; the second describes the body — that is, the hair, the hump, the legs, feet, knees, and hands. The third gives the dress and the effect of the whole upon the populace. She then told the class that the hunchback first appeared at a little round opening only large enough to show his face, and after the people had looked at him through this opening he was then brought out where they could see him entire. It was this order of seeing him that Hugo followed in his description — just as the people saw him and the climax of feeling that came with the sight. There is one other noticeable thing in this description : Hugo does not give any time to the features and parts of the man that were normal, but he considers only those that 65f TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. were peculiar. He says nothing about the ears, the shape or length of the arms. This is a significant thing in descrip- tion. When the object described is a common one, then there is little use to enter into the details except such as are marked peculiarities, or in some other way of special importance. In a prominent magazine some time ago was given a description of the dress of the students of a certain German university. Two things particularly were discussed, and these were the caps and canes. They were the distin- guishing features of the dress. Applying this notion to the description of the maple tree, it is seen that the twist in the trunk and the use to which the children put it will probably help to give a better picture of the tree and its relation to the life around it than any other one thing. But if all the foregoing suggestions were followed to the letter and a certain element were lacking, the results would be far short of what they should be. Throughout the entire language work there must be intelligent and sympathetic criticism. The pupil must not be overwhelmed by being shown a multitude of mistakes in a single exercise. A few should be selected and corrected at one time, and the others be overlooked for the present. For instance, some pupils have the habit of putting everything into one great long sentence and connecting the parts by and. It is usually best to ignore all other mistakes and work only for ability to make shorter statements. When this is accomplished, then something else can be worked upon and corrected. It is discouraging to a pupil to see a whole array of criticisms, many of which he is unable to correct alone. We must be content with little advances. Then the teacher must be sympathetic ; she must be able to inspire in the pupil con- fidence in his own ability ; she must show a hearty appre- ciation of the excellencies in his production, no matter how small they may be. Newcomer's English Composition is very simple in its treatment of this subject and is so full of practical and timely topics that I can not do better than to offer in a 65g COxMMENT ON CHAPTER VIII. very condensed form some of his suggestions for writing, and a few of the many subjects given under each head in his book. Prof. Newcomer also gives numerous illustra- tions of every point which he considers, and this makes his book more helpful than it could possibly be by giving sim- ply general statements. As it is easier for most of us to tell what a man does than to tell how he looks, narration is easier than description. This is true of all composition work from the lowest to the highest. The simplest form of narration is the simple inci- dent. Most of the little happenings recorded in a news- paper belong to this class. Some of his suggestions for writing are : 1. First select a definite subject — one with which you are sufficiently familiar. 2. Follow the order in which the events occurred. 3. Avoid additions and exaggerations, in the first writing at least. 4. Cut out all unnecessary words. 5. Don't try to embellish a story until you have the abil- ity to write an " unvarnished tale." 6. Don't feel that there is anything sacred in what you have written, but be a harsh critic and rewrite as frequently as you see places in which it can be improved. 7. Use the simplest and most natural language at your command. 8. Study good models. All these suggestions except " 2 "apply to all composition work ; " 2 " applies especially to narration. Practical Subjects for Narration. A Severe Lesson. The Interrupted Sermon. How I missed the Train. A Practical Joke. My Predicament. How I lost my Breakfast. An Unexpected Meeting. A Schoolroom Episode. " Choosing up." A Lesson in Courtesy. A Mouse's Surprise. A Complicated Affair. Fido and the Rabbits. H 65h TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. A skeleton is sometimes helpful in writing incidents : Vacation — boys — bait — river — rain. Streetcar — child — school — scream — doctor. Boat — shore — boy — prow — calculate — leap — recoil — precipitated — water. Practical Subjects for Description. A Revolving Bookcase. The Garden City. A Waste Basket. The United States Mint A Hanging Lamp. Table Salt. Aunt's Cuckoo Clock. Varieties of Marble. My Birthplace. Building Stone. The Old Schoolhouse. The Acorn. The Watermelon. The Violet. My Favourite Flower. The Cotton Plant. Robin Redbreast. My Pets. Nest Building. Bird Migration. A Winter Scene. A Rustic Bridge. The Old Mill. Niagara Falls. Description of Persons. Imaginative Descriptions. As a matter of fact very few productions are purely nar- ration or description ; they are naturally and almost in- evitably mingled. Practical Subjects for Exposition. Popular Superstitions. Aristocracy in America. Games of Chance. Child Labour in the United Penny Wise, Pound Foolish. States. Our Public-School System. Sunday Newspapers. The Evolution of Dress. The Violet Family. Light Literature. 65i COMMENT ON CHAPTER VIII. Subjects for Argument. Groundlessness of Popular Superstitions. Selfishness the Mainspring of Human Action. Whatever is, is Right The Virtues of Cold Water as a Universal Beverage. Shakespeare the Product of his Age. Fallacies of Democracy. Benedict Arnold's Action at West Point was Excusable. That a Great European War is Inevitable. Subjects for Persuasion, The American Flag. Female Suffrage, Why do I need Exercise ? Uphold the Constitution. A Soft Answer turneth away Needed Postal Legislation. Wrath. The Greatest Need of the Virtue its own Reward. Age. Cruelty to Animals. Dignity of Labour. There should be a study of good models of the particular kind of discourse studied. The pupil must write, criticise, and rewrite, again and again. — S. E, T-C. 65j CHArTEE IX. THE ART OF READING. As we have seen, the first mental cultivation of the race originated in its contact with the external world, ma- terial and social ; the second, in its contact with the ex- perience of the living or the dead communicated by oral tradition. The third came with the invention of writing and the production of books. These steps every individ- ual repeats in the same order. " With the art of writing," says Carlyle, " of which printing is a simple, an inevitable, and comparatively in- significant corollary, the true reign of miracles for man- kind commenced. . . . All things were altered for men :• all modes of important work of men — teaching, preaching, governing, and all else." He contrasts the university of the thirteenth century with the university of the nine- teenth — the one a place of listening, the other of reading. " If we think of it," he continues, " all that a university or final highest school can do for us is still but what the first school began doing — teach us to read.'''' And again, " The true university of these days is a collection of books." * It is true that Carlyle wrote this celebrated pas- sage before the day of laboratory methods ; but if he were living now, it is not probable that he would care to change a word of it. There is, indeed, a long-standing controversy * The Hero as Man of Letters. 66 THE ART OF READING. 67 about things and words as instruments of education — realism and verbalism. Some children take the third step in education before coming to school ; all pay, or should pay, much attention to things after reaching it; still the book gives to the school, and particularly to the elementary school, its character, and reading is, and will continue to be, the first and greatest of the elementary school arts. The ancient Jews significantly called the school " the house of the book." We are now to see what its use involves. The relation of the author to his composition is that of a creator to his creature, or of a father to his child. Ac- cording to the Greek conception, the poet is the "maker" (■noLrjrrjg), and such also, in a less eminent degree perhaps, is the prose writer.* Some part of an author's knowledge, thought, feeling, or purpose — one or all of these ; that is, some part of the author himself — flows into his work. This is the sense of the word "author." Mr. Lowell once said that the Greek classics are rammed with life, and so in some degree is all literature worthy of the name. The author is like Jesus in the miracle — virtue goes out of him. But the life or virtue is inert and powerless so long as the book lies unused on the shelf. As Dr. Holmes calls him, the librarian is the sexton of the alcoved tomb — " Where souls in leathern cerements lie." • The function of the reader is different from that of the author, and is yet like it. He takes up a dead com- position and makes it live again. He recreates, if he does not create. He evokes from the printed page what the ixs^."^ writer put into it. He restores the writer, so far as he j)ut himself into his work. He reanimates the souls that * In Elizabethan English " maker " is the current term for poet, and " make " for writing verses. 68 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. lie in leathern cerements. When he brings out of a com- position bearing one of those names all the Shakespeare, Bacon, or Tennyson that it holds, he reads it, and not until then. Mark Pattison says the scholar is greater than his books. The result of his labours is not so many thousand pages of folio, but himself. The Paradise Lost is a grand poem, but how much grander was the living soul who spoke it ! Philosophy is not a doctrine, but a method. Philosophical systems as put upon paper do not embody philosophy. Philosophy perishes in the moment you would teach it. Knowledge is not the thing known, but the mental eifort which knows. And so it is with learning.* But there is another point of view. Imper- fect as they are, books are the best expression of the minds that have produced them. If Milton falls below his own level in Paradise Lost, he rises again in the Mil- tonic reader. And while philosophy may perish in the act of teaching, and knowledge cease to be in the act of transmission, they reappear in the disciple as the power that philosophizes and the activity that knows. Reading, to be sure, is relative, not absolute. A child's reading of Shakespeare is one thing, Coleridge's quite another. In a previous chapter we have seen that knowledge is purely subjective ; that if all minds were to perish, knowl- edge Avould cease to exist, even if all the existing symbols of knowledge, books and libraries included, should s.ur- vive. These books and libraries would be like the old parrot mentioned by Humboldt, which spoke the language of a savage tribe that had ceased to exist. It is only in a secondary sense that there is knowledge in a book. What a book contains is not properly ideas, not properly even words, which are the signs of ideas, but merely the symbols * Isaac Casaubon, pp. 488, 489. THE ART OF READING. 69 of words, the external and visible simulacra of thought ; and it is only when a mind like the mind of the author is brought into relation with it that the book becomes in- stinct with meaning. A book may be likened to a phono- graph, which speaks or sings only to an ear like the ear of him who first spoke the speech or sung the song. In his essay on Goethe's Helena, Carlyle shows how the reader becomes one with the author. '' We have not read an author till we have seen his object, whatever it may be, as he saw it. Is it a matter of reasoning, and has he reasoned stupidly and falsely ? We should understand the circumstances which, to his mind, made it seem true, or persuaded him to write it, knowing that it was not so. In any other way we do him injustice if we judge him. Is it of poetry? His words are so many symbols, to which we ourselves must furnish the interpretation ; or they re- main, as in all prosaic minds the words of poetry ever do, a dead letter : indications they are, barren in themselves, but by following which we also may reach, or approach, that Hill of Vision where the poet stood, beholding the glorious scene which it is the purport of his poem to show others." Writing and reading are correlative arts ; either im- plies the other. When one stops to think of it, he begins to appreciate the greatness of the triumph that they involve. With a few strokes of his pen, the author transmits his thought around the world, or to a distant age. Through the printed page, the reader comes into relation with the men who have rammed the literatures with life. " It is the greatest invention that man has ever made," says Car- lyle, " this of marking down the thought that is in him by written characters. It is a kind of second speech, almost as marvellous as the first," It is not strange that a people so full of filial piety as the Chinese should rever- ence lettered paper. 70 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS." While reading is the latest born of the great instru- ments of cultivation, it is in some ways the most impor- tant of all. Bjornson makes the mother of the hero of The Happy Boy say to her son that once the moun- tain spoke to the stream, the stream to the river, the river to the sea, and the sea to the sky, the sky to the clouds, the clouds to the trees, the trees to the grass, the grass to the flies, the flies to the animals, the animals to the children, the children to the grown-up people, and so on. Finally, she begins to teach him to read. He had owned books for a long time, and often wondered how it would seem when they also began to talk. Mr. Scudder uses the story to emphasize what he calls " the crisis of our educational system." This crisis is learning to read. " In making it possible for him [the child] to read books, we have added enormously to the power of the teacher. . . Of all times in the child's life when this company of in- visible spirits may be called in as interpreters, there is none more significant, more impressive than this, when, standing on the threshold, wondering, listening, his im- agination sensitive to the finer influences, he waits to hear what his books shall say to him when they begin to talk." * * The Atlantic Monthly, February, 1894, p. 254 : The Educational Law of Reading and Writing. CHAPTER X. READING AND MENTAL CULTIVATION. School studies proper may be divided into tliree groups, the divisions being based on use or function. We must sketch out these groups, and also show the relation of reading to each one of them. 1. The guidance studies furnish us with information or knowledge that is of immediate practical value in the work of life. This knowledge shapes, or at least influ- ences, our conduct. The terms " guidance " and " con- duct," however, must not be taken in a narrow sense. They must not be used in a merely moral acceptation, but in the sense of universal activity. In kind the knowledge that is derived from these studies is the same as the useful or practical information that is gathered by personal observation and reflection, by conversation, by reading the newspapers and books of general information. It has an encyclopedic character, and has been called " fact lore." Indeed, information has sometimes been regarded, but very mistakenly, as the same thing as edu- cation. Extended remarks are not needed to show that the art of reading is very closely connected with this group of studies. It is well known to all teachers that in deal- ing with this whole group the good readers greatly sur- pass the poor ones. Teachers have often remarked to me, " My pupils are poor in geography and history be- 71 72 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. cause they can not read." It is the same way in physi- ology and elementary science, for in these studies the end sought is not so much mental discipline as it is informa- tion ar.d the cultivation of tlie observing habit. In these studies the good readers surpass the poor ones, partly because they commonly surpass them in observation and apprehension, and partly because they surpass them in the art of reading itself. The mental qualities that cause a pupil to excel as a reader also cause him to excel in the information studies. As Bacon says, conference makes a ready man, writing an exact man, reading a full man. 2. The disciplinary studies stimulate the observing and thinking faculties to action, and so develop the mind. ^ They are sometimes called the "training studies." They tend to create thought rather than merely to furnish facts or ideas. As the studies of the first group give the mind knowledge, so these give it power. While the relation of reading to the disciplinary studies is less close than to the information studies, it is still important. Poor readers sometimes do good work in physics, chemistry, and mathematics, while good readers more fre- quently do poor work in the same studies ; but in both instances the rule is the other way. /Pupils often come •short in arithmetic or algebra because they have never formed the habit of carefully reading their examples, problems, and theorems. With such pupils it is some- jtimes an advantage to cause them to analyze grammat- lically their lessons. The close relations of reading to the /study of language, particularly on the literary side, are perfectly obvious. The mental qualities that make the good reader tend also to make the good translator. Poor [re^aders rarely make good progress in the study of languages. Grammar will be made the subject of a future chapter, but a single phase of it may be mentioned here. Grammat- READING AND MENTAL CULTIVATION. 73 ical analysis rests on logical analysis, on actually thinking an author's thoughts, and what is this but a form of read- ing? Silent reading is interpreting to the mind the lan- guage-elements as they stand on the page, — words, phrases, clauses, and sentences ; QTal_reading adds to this the vocal expression that enables the listener to repeat the same process. The basic element in both cases is a ceaseless pro- cess of defining, interpreting, and construing. The simi- larity between oral reading and analysis is even closer : the reader indicates the subject and the predicate of the sentence, as well as their modifiers, by the intonations, emphasis, and slides of his voice; the grammarian for- mally points out these elements by giving them their grammatical names. Reading is rapid analysis without the formal designation of the elements ; analysis is slow reading with such designation. Still, all good readers do not excel in formal grammar ; some who have the literary faculty lack the logical power that analysis calls for. 3. The culture studies supply tilth to the mind. The principal ones are the arts. Language as art is literature, a culture study. The difference between reading and the stu(3y of literature is partly one of kind, but mainly one of degree. The teacher of reading in the lower grades places more emphasis upon the mechanical or technical elements of the art than upon its spiritual elements ; in the higher grades, less emphasis upon the mechanical and more upon the spiritual ; while the teacher of litera- ture gives principal attention to the spiritual elements. Manifestly these are steps in the same line of development. Progressively, the art of reading passes into the study of literature. A school reader is a book of literature, as well as a practice book for teaching an art. A reader of high ^ > y^ grade contains, or should contain, a variety of matter — yi^, descriptions of natural objects, elevated oratory, sublime, ^4: TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. tragical, and comic pieces, wise reasoning, humour, wit, pathos, poetic interpretation of Nature and scientific in- terpretation, history, food for the intellect and food for the heart, as well as tonic for the will. Fully to appre- ciate such a book calls for larger mental attainments than all the other books of the elementary school put together; to render its lessons well is the highest test of school cul- ture ; thoroughly to know its contents, next to association with a good teacher and cultivated pupils, is contact with the best formative influence of the school. The reader is pre-eminently the character- making and the taste- making book. It is the queen book of the elementary schoolroom. Of course, this division of studies, or any other one that can be propou-nded, lies open to criticism. The broadest of these criticisms is that the groups overlap one another. Information, disciplinary, and culture elements are found in every one of the three groups of studies — nay, in every study. As in other cases of classification, the names go with the emphatic characters. The dis- tinction of information and disciplinary studies in par- ticular needs to be guarded. A man's knowledge and his discipline are not convertible terms, still less his knowl- edge and his education ; at the same time there is no knowledge that does not bring discipline, and no disci- pline apart from knowledge. While the above classification exhausts the school studies, it does not exhaust the sources of mental growth and culture. The mind is enriched from sources that do not bear the name of studies. Literature is one, conversa- tion another. In respect to language, in particular, liter- ature is very powerful. Imitation begins to exercise its potent spell the moment that the child begins to read a book with real interest. But imitation by no means ex- hausts the influence of either literature or association. READING AND MENTAL CULTIVATION. Y5 Imitation is at best a sort of copying, like the printing of a photograph ; but here we deal with a force that works from within and affects the whole mental being. A con- versation or a book, entering into a child's mind, brings new knowledge, incites thought and feeling, and enlarges the vocabulary and retines modes of speech. The intro- duction of new ideas, images, and feelings engenders new thought power and imparts new forms of expression. Speech grows and is clarified along with thought. The new spirit pushes off old modes and forms, as the spring sap causes the dead leaves to fall from the tree. The pro- cess is none the less efficacious because it is silent and somewhat slow. Use and wont do indeed create habits of speech that are almost incapable of change ; but, at the same time, reading and conversation renew a person's speech as waste and repair renew his skin. And it was this process of renewal that I referred to when, in a pre- vious chapter, I spoke of growing off or sloughing one's linguistic integument. It is not easy to exaggerate the linguistic influence of the books that have obtained a currency as wide as the language in which they are written, such as Milton, Bun- yan, Shakespeare, and, above all. King James's Bible. The influence of a few great models such as these, thoroughly- read, is a hundredfold greater than that of all the gram- mars, dictionaries, rhetorics, and language books ever writ- ten. Reference has already been made to the potent in- fluence of the school reader. It may be more than doubt- ful whether, with our habit of wide and careless reading, we are not at a disadvantage in respect to speech com- pared with our ancestors, who read more narrowly but more intensely. The newspaper is by no means an un- mixed blessing, while there is reason to question whether the higher school readers of to-day are equal in a literary Y6 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. point of view to those that were formerly in use. " We are apt," says Lowell, " to wonder at the scholarship of the men of three centuries ago, and at a certain dignity of phrase that characterizes them. They were scholars because they did not read so many things as we. They had fewer books, but these were of the best. Their speech was noble because they lunched with Plutarch and supped with Plato." * The primary teacher's first duty is to enlarge and. clarify the child's mental store, rendering his facts, ideas, and thoughts more precise and definite, as well as more full and varied ; her second duty — and this begins at the same time and runs parallel with the former one — is to enlarge and clarify his vocabulary, adding to his stock of words and sharpening and guiding the senses in which he uses them. First and last the teacher's great instrument in the accomplishment of these ends is reading. The intel- ligent teacher will therefore hasten to lay hold of this great instrument of power. She will hasten to teach the pupil the art of reading; she will strive to create within him a love of reading, and also to form a discriminating taste or judgment that is capable of separating what is worth reading from what is not. The public schools of the United States cost the people not less than one hun- dred and seventy million dollars annually, but they would earn the money if they measurably accomplished the three ends just stated, although they should do nothing more, viz., teach the children how to read and'what to read, and give them a love o| reading. Unfortunately, the difference between literature and printed matter is not always un- derstood. I should remark, however, that the relation of the reading habit to the intellectual and moral life is not * Literary and Political Addresses : Books and Libraries. READING AND MENTAL CULTIVATION. 77 here emphasized so much as its relation to linguistic culti- vation. As a linguistic agent it ranks far above both the study of grammar and the technical devices of the school- room ; it stands next to association itself — is, indeed, a form of association ; and is undoubtedly the most powerful linguistic agent that the teacher can use. It is too much to expect that the common person, habituated from birth to bad English, will ever learn to use the best English, but the ardent reader may accomplish wonders in that direction. What has been said of environment and good reading is of universal application. They are the two great meth- ods of teaching language. Neither one is peculiar to the schoolroom. No matter what a child's primal force may be, or what his acquired or inherited culture, he needs the discipline and the cultivation that come from good com- pany and good books. But the books must be graduated to the pupil and must be wisely handled. It is pertinent to observe that in England, at least at the universities, the words "read" and "reading" are used in a much broader sense than in the United States. To study is to read. The hard student is the hard reader. A difficult subject is hard reading. This broader usage marks the essential oneness of what we tend to divide. We do, indeed, say that a student reads law or theology, but this is no doubt due to the fact that under the old regime lawyers obtained their education in lawyers' offices, and ministers their theological training in pastors' studies. The introduction of the broader English usage into our schools might prove to be an advantage. Note. — In an admirable paragraph Mr. Lowell considers the ques- tion, "What the mere ability to read means." It is "the key which admits us to the whole world of thought and fancy and im- agination," " to the company of saint and sage, of the wisest and 78 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. wittiest at their wisest and wittiest moment " ; *' it enables us to see with the keenest eyes, hear with the finest ears, and listen to the sweetest voices of all time " ; " it annihilates time and space for us," and revives the age of wonder without a miracle. •' We often hear of people," he says, " who will descend to any servility, submit to any insult, for the sake of getting themselves or their children into what is euphemistically called good society. Did it ever occur to them that there is a select society of all the centuries to which they and theirs can be admitted for the asking — a society, too, which will not involve them in ruinous waste of time and health and facul- ties ? " — (Books and Libraries.) Prof. Norton is equally happy when he says : *' Poetry is one of the most efficient means of education of the moral sentiment, as well as of the intelligence. It is the source of the best culture. A man may know all science and yet remain uneducated. But let him truly possess himself of the work of any one of the great poets, and, no matter what else he may fail to know, he is not without education. " The field of good literature is so vast that there is something in it for every intelligence. But the field of bad literature is not less broad, and is likely to be preferred by the common, unculti- vated taste. To make good reading more attractive than bad, to give right direction to the choice, the growing intelligence of the child should be nourished with selected portions of the best litera- ture, the virtue of which has been approved by long consent. These selections, besides merit in point of literary form, should possess as general human interest as possible, and should be specially chosen with reference to the culture of the imagination. " The imagination is the supreme intellectual faculty, and yet it is of all the one which receives least attention in our common sys- tems of education. The reason is not far to seek. The imagina- tion is of all the faculties the most difficult to control, it is most elusive of all, the most far-reaching in its relations, the rarest in its full power. But upon its healthy development depend not only the sound exercise of the faculties of observation and judgment, but also the command of the reason, the control of the will, and the quickening and growth of the moral sympathies. The means for its culture which good reading affords is the most generally available and one of the most efficient." — (Preface to the Heart of Oak Books, Second Book.) COMMENT ON CHAPTER X. Every observing teacher will readily agree that poor reading is the cause of a great deal of poor work in the other subjects in school. Tests have been made in arith- metic in certain classes in which it was found that eighty per cent of the mistakes were due to the fact that the pupils did not really read the problems. If numbers were written in words instead of figures, they were overlooked in many cases. The poor readers did not even see when an answer was reached that it was ridiculously wrong. One problem was : " A boy bought 100 papers at 2i cents each and sold them at 4 cents each. What did he gain ? " Several an- swers were, " He gained $150." Others said he gained $250, $2.50, and so on, all such answers showing the fact that they did not read the problem well. Occasional reading lessons from the arithmetics, grammars, and geographies are a good thing. The child's ability to gather thought readily and accurately from the printed page must not be lost sight of in the zeal for thorough analysis of the thought itself. S. E. T-C. 78a CHAPTER XL REQUISITES FOR READIISTG. In" order that one may read in the sense that we have defined reading, he must possess three different qualifica- tions, viz. : — 1. He must have a mental preparation — intellectual, emotional, and volitional — such as will enable him to re- ceive the knowledge, feeling, and purpose with which the composition that he reads is charged. 2. He must be master of the mechanism or machinery of the printed page ; he must know the power and use, both singly and in combination, of the characters that are used in the expression or symbolism of written or printed thought. 3. He must have a vocal or an elocutionary training that will enable him to convey to others by means of his voice what he himself finds on the printed page. Here it is that reading forms a connection with the earlier art of speaking. The first of these requisites is general and spiritual ; the second_aJidjbhird are special and mechanical. The first one sums up the whole of the reader's mental cultiva- tion, the other two constitute the technique, or the art, of reading. For silent reading, of course, only the first and second are necessary ; for oral reading the third is equally essential. Properly to teach reading due attention must be paid 79 80 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. to every one of these three requirements : To mental prep- aration in respect to subject-matter, to the apparatus of points, letters, words, and sentences, and to vocal drill or expression. While it would be too much to say that teachers as a class understand fully the second and third of these canons, they certainly understand them better than they do the first one. Some fail to understand what reading is ; they appear to assume that it is the mere play of the vocal organs, the simple utterance of language. Chinese youth, for example, in the first period of school life, commit to memory, and learn to recite with faultless utterance. The Five Classics and The Four Books, from which, as the oral and literary languages of the country are wholly different, they do not receive a glimmer of an idea. Later they are taught the literary language ; but in this first period, according to the purely mechanical conception, they are the most accomplished readers in the world. Unfortunately, the relation of the art of reading to mental cultivation as a whole is not always understood. It is an effect as well as a cause of such cultivation. We learn in order to read, as well as read in order to learn. fNo man's knowledge ever began, or ever will begin, with reading. Before we ever read a word we have accumu- lated, by the use of the senses and by reflection, a stock of facts, ideas, and images without which we could never read at all. Later in life words often come before things or ideas, but at first things must come before words. Nor can we grow in power to read unless we keep in relation constantly with the original sources of knowledge. Pro- fessor J. S. Blackie has remarked that while, in modern times, instruction is communicated by means of books, and while they are very useful helps to knowledge, and even to the practice of useful arts, still they_a,re never Jhe REQUISITES FOR READING. gl primary and natural sources of culture, and their virtue is apt to be overrated. They are not creative powers in any sense; they are merely helps, instruments, or tools, and even as. tools they are artificial, superadded to those with which the wise prevision of Nature has equipped us. " The original and proper sources of knowledge are not books, but life, experience, personal thinking, feeling, and acting. When a man starts with these, books can fill up many gaps, correct much that is inaccurate, and extend much that is inadequate ; but, without living ex- perience to work on, books are like rain and sunshine fallen on unbroken soil." Hence the Scotch professor urges his young readers to cultivate the direct observation of facts, and not to be content with cultivating books. * It is indeed to be said that words in themselves are things as much as material objects, and that as such they may be made the subject of study, but this is apart from their primitive function as signs of ideas and as vehicles of thought. After all that has been said and written, teachers do not yet sufiiciently appreciate the bearing of what we al- ready know upon what we have yet to learn. At first the mind looks at objects directly and impartially ; there in- tervenes between it and its object no medium or prism of ideas or previous mental experience; so that there is a native innocency of the mind as well as of the eye. But this virgin state of mind does not last long. The_.first- formed ideas condition all later ones. They become types, forms, or cadres to which new objects are referred. " For wherever it is at all possible," as has been said, " the child refers the new to the related _older ideas. With the aid of familiar perceptions, he appropriates that which is foreign * Self-Culture: The Culture of- the Intellect. 82 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. to him, and conquers with the arms of apperception the outer world which assails his senses." * Thus the child reared up in the south brought north may call snowflakes butterflies, while any child for a period calls every man a papa, every woman a mamma. When the Eomans first saw elephants they called them Lucanian oxen. The word Handscliuh shows that the Germans clothed their feet be- fore they did their hands. Old ideas affect new ones in J/ two ways — they facilitate their formation and also shape jLthem. Nothing but fuller experience can correct the hasty and overwide generalizations that are so character- istic of young and immature minds. But, on the whole, the resulting advantages are very great ; we may even say that they measure all gain or increase of mental power. Thus it is that, other things being equal, those who know most already are the best fitted to learn. The people who saw most at the Columbian Exposition were the people who carried most to it. The Eskimos of the story found noth- ing to interest them in the streets of London, f Apper- (^ception conditions all mental growth after the first begin- ' ning is made, and so is of universal value ; but there are reasons why the fact should be especially borne in mind when the immediate source or channel of knowledge is a book. We have already seen that, to a degree, the reader must have one life with the author ; that he must be able measurably to think his thoughts, feel his emotions, and will his purposes. He need not stand on as high a plane as the author, but he must not fall too far below him. * Lange, Anperception, p. 55, Boston, 1 803. f For examples of apperception, see Tracy, The Psychology of Childhood, p. 45 ; Taine, The Acquisition of Language by Children, Mind, vol. ii, p. 255; Lange, Apperception (Bbsfoii/iSOB), pp. 55, 56; Dg Garmo, The Essentials of Method, p. 30. REQUISITES FOR READING. 83 No one can really read Shakespeare or Milton unless he he have something Shakespearian or Miltonic in him. ^chpoi readers ^must be graduated to the culture, ofjbe, pupils who are to use them ; they must be above the pupils, but not too far above them, for if they abound in facts, ideas, and images that the pupils have not in mind, or their similars, the pupils will not receive much profit, although they may mechanically learn some new words or language. We read as well as reason from what we already know. To read different authors, different compositions by the same author, or even parts of the same composition, may call for different kinds of preparation. One author or piece moves in the field of Nature ; a second traverses history and literature ; a third is introspective and meta- physical ; a fourth combines facts, reflections, and images coming from several sources. A ^pajjii whgse_ readin g^ a^nd th^iught have .lain ia the channel of, human affairs solely, does not find tongues in trees, sermons in stones, books in the running brooks, and good in everything. Nor will he who has dwelt only in the presence of Nature read- ily thread the mazes of history. Take this stanza from Tennyson : '^'^^^^^^-^ " The rain had fallen, the poet arose, He passed by the town and out of the street ; A light wind blew from the gates of the sun, And waves of shadow went over the wheat." It is hardly necessary to say that the ideas which enable one to appreciate these lines come from personal con- tact with Nature. It is labour lost to speak of waves of shadow on a wheat field to one who has never seen them, or something like them. Now, take the following from Macaulay : " Milton did not strictly belong to any of the classes 84 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. which we have described. He was not a Puritan. He was not a Freethinker. He was not a Cavalier. In his charac- ter the noblest qualities of every party were combined in harmonious union. From the parliament and from the court, from the conventicle and from the Gothic cl-oister, from the gloomy and sepulchral circles of the Roundheads, and from the Christmas revel of the hospitable Cavalier, his nature selected and drew to itself whatever was great and good, while it rejected all the base and pernicious ingredients by which those fine elements were defiled." This passage does not call for knowledge of Nature, but for knowledge of man ; and no one can read it with ap- preciation without a large knowledge of English history in the seventeenth century. Who was the Puritan? who the Freethinker ? who the Cavalier ? What was the con- venticle and what the Gothic cloister ? And what were the elements, great and good, which Milton's nature se- lected and drew to itself from all these sources ? Gray's Elegy moves in a different sphere still. Its note is personal reflection on Nature and human life : it is marked by a sweet pensiveness. Then what a mingling of ideas in the well-known lines of Hamlet : " Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long ; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad. The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time." The import of the argument is that reading calls for a certain general culture — that man or child must read up to elevated literature, just as a musician must sing up to elevated music. Perhaps it is needless to say that the REQUISITES FOR READING. 85 reading in the schools falls far below this level. And not only so, what passes for reading in churches, Sunday schools, and homes is often merely naming words. The proper preparation of the mind for reading comes from many sources — personal observation of Nature and personal contact with men, previous acquaintance with books, and reflection upon what one has seen and heard. Of all these sources Nature contributes to the child's mind the most valuable facts, ideas, and images. " God made the country, Man made the town." Hunting for the spring flowers, chasing with the eye the shadows on the wheat, watching the flight of birds, noting the golden lustre of the grain at harvest ; observing the habits of animals, wild and domestic, the qualities of phys- ical things, the forest in summer and in winter, the clouds, and the changes of the seasons — these causes work lasting impressions in the young, and particularly in brooding minds. It is because the compilers of school readers feel this that they give so much prominence to lessons dealing with natural scenes. Moreover, we do not always suffi- ciently consider how much more nearly upon a level with these books the country child is than the city child, and how much better furnished he is with the apparatus re- quired to interpret such lessons. On the whole, when we consider how much cultivation it involves, we cease to think the remark extravagant that to read John Kuskin is a liberal education. CHAPTER XII. TEACHIN^G KEADII^G AS AN" AET. We must keep clearly in mind the preparation to read that the child who has never looked into a book brings to school. First, he has a certain store of facts, ideas, and images gained by observation, reflection, and conversation, which serves to interpret to him, through the process called apperception, the new facts and ideas of the printed page — the extent and nature of this preparation depend- ing upon the quickness of his mind, the character of his environment, natural and social, and particularly upon the cultivation of his home. Secondly, he has at com- mand a certain store of oral language by which he both receives and conveys ideas, which preparation is also rela- tive in both quantity and quality, being determined by the activity of his mind and the speech that he is accus- tomed to hear. The primary teacher's first duty is to take the child thus equipped and to teach him to read. She should be guided by the following canons : — 1. The pupil must at once attack the symbolism of the printed page. This consists of arbitrary characters combined in a great number and variety of ways. The first step toward reading is to learn to recognise these characters, both singly and in combination. This is in great part a mechanical-mental operation, in which suc- cess depends mainly upon natural quickness of mind and practice. It is an art in itself. The question of method, 86 TEACHING READING AS AN ART. 37 it does not come in my way to discuss ; the canons that I am laying down apply, no matter what method is used. There is reason to think, however, that the method is not so important as some would make it ; more, probably, de- pends upon the skill with which it is handled than the method itself ; or, at least, reading has been successfully taught according to all the methods that have been in vogue. Accordingly, the expression " singly and in com- bination " used above does not imply that such should be the order of procedure, but that the completed work must embrace both the items. 2. The pupil will at the same time attack the vocal values of these characters, also singly and in combination. The word or letter has a form that appeals to the eye, and a name or sound that appeals to the ear ; in fact, some letters have several sounds or, in reality, several names. The form and the name are in no way related save by ex- ternal association ; the form does not control the sound, or vice versa. This also is an art ; it involves the associa- tion of the sound and the form with the ability to make the sound. Both acts are in great degree mechanical. Excellence in the first implies quick observation and re- tentive memory, particularly memory for sounds; excel- lence in the second, flexible vocal organs and much prac- tice. Mastery of tlie printed symbols employed in literature, and of their vocal values, are the technical elements of the art of reading. They are to reading what technique is to music. They should advance together. Furthermore, they should receive marked emphasis in the school for some time after the child enters it, say for two or three years. The acquirement of the elements of the art of reading may in after-years seem easy; the fact is, however, it is difficult, and it will be called easy only by those who do 88 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. not understand what it involves or who have forgotten their own early struggles. The two elements are not only to be acquired, but they are to be associated — the recog- nition of the symbols and the utterance of their vocal powers. Dr. Stanley Hall has thus characterized read- ing: "In fine, the growing agreement that there is no one and only orthodox way of teaching and learning this greatest and hardest of all the arts, in which ear, mouth, eye, and hand must each in turn train the others to automatic perfection in ways hard and easy, by devices old and new, mechanically and consciously, actively and passively, of things familiar and unknown, and by alter- nately resting and modulating from one set of faculties to another, secure mental unity and school economy both intellectual and material — this is a great gain and seems now secure." * 3. On the day that he enters the school the pupil should also attack the significance of the literary symbols. Originally these symbols, whether considered as forms or as sounds, had little to do with meaning ; for the most part the meanings of words in any language which has reached the written stage are arbitrary. Good care must be taken that the meanings of the first words, or thought- symbols, that are used in teaching reading, shall be already familiar. No words or language should be employed the content of which the pupil does not already well under- stand. The thing immediately in hand is to associate the meanings and the forms of the symbols, and this must be accomplished mainly by sheer dint of practice. To this extent the act is mechanical-mental ; but the meanings themselves, especially as they flow into a stream of thought, are purely psychological. This brings us back to the * How to Teach Reading, p. 15. TEACHING READING AS AN ART. 89 Original analysis. Reading involves (1) recognition of the printed symbols ; (2) ability to express their sound equiv- alents; (3) understanding of the subject-matter. To illus- trate, " cat " or " lion " as form, as sound, and as idea are distinct and separate, and nothing but convention has brought the three elements into connection. To read, therefore, one must observe the convention. Obviously, the first and second elements of the whole art may be ac- quired by themselves, as in the case of Chinese school- boys ; the second may fall out altogether, as in the case of the deaf-mute reader; while the third, although not essen- tial to the second, gives to it that peculiar quality which we call expression. Nor will it be amiss to say again that the psychological element only is of the essence of read- ing. The emphasis laid upon the mechanical elements in' the first grade, the fact that at first the reading lesson as such can not add anything to the child's real knowledge outside of the art of reading itself considered as an object — since the lessons must be strictly limited to what the child already knows — these two facts for a time throw the content of language into the background. At first, read- ing is psychological (properly so called) only in so far as it involves permanent associations of the three several ele- ments, the most important associations being those be- tween the old ideas and the corresponding word-forms. Not until reading as a mechanical-mental art has been measurably mastered — that is, not until the child has measurably learned to " read " in the accepted sense of the home and of the school — does it become an instrument or tool for the acquisition of new knowledge. To convey knowledge at first through reading, strictly speaking, is impossible. The fact is, that if all the time which is spent in teaching the pupil to read as a mere art were devoted to enlarging his real knowledge or mental store by plying 90 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. his faculties of observation with objects, and through con- versation, he would know more at the end of a year of school life than he now knows. To be sure, the art itself contains objects of real knowledge, though of little value abstractly considered, and also confers discipline ; still, from the point of view of real knowledge the time so spent is mainly wasted. But this waste we gladly incur, since this incomparable instrument of acquirement, when once gained, is a hundredfold compensation. Accord- ingly, more and more emphasis must be placed upon the content of language as the child ascends the grades, until at last the art of reading is merged in the study of liter- ature. It is not improbable that some will object to the minor stress laid upon the thought-element in the first stage of teaching reading. Such fail to understand that the first thing to do is to master a mechanical-mental art — they fail to see that the tool must first be fabricated before it can be used. The pupil should indeed be caused to un- derstand the ideas that the exercise or lesson holds ; but all attempts to do more, for the time, will not only fail to enlarge real knowledge, through reading^ but will retard the formation of the art. A lesson in reading and an object-lesson may be combined in one ; the child may get, in the first stage, new ideas at the same time that he acquires his art ; but the new ideas come from the object- lesson and not from the reading as such. To quote Dr. Hall again : " Children are so automatic and imitative, have such a genius for the facile acquisitions of habit, and are so easily stupefied by reasons and explanations, that some seem to learn to read and write so mechanically as to get by it no trace whatever of real mental discipline or devel- opment. The sooner all these processes are completely TEACHING READING AS AN ART. 91 mechanized, so that reading is rapid, sure, and free, the sooner the mind can attend to the subject-matter. Till then, Benecke thought reading and writing a necessary evil, and that processes so mechanical and arbitrary should be taught mechanically and arbitrarily, hoping for a time when children should be born with the spell- ing-mechanism innate and instinctively perfect in their brains." * The teacher must remember that oral reading is a form of speech, or of talking, and that imitation is the key word in one as in the other. Kules should play no more part in primary reading than in talking. The teacher should not say, " Follow such a rule," but " Do so," setting an appropriate example. A poor reader is little likely to make good ones. The attempt to cause the child to fol- low rules will breed confusion of mind and prevent that freedom and spontaneity which are the first marks of good reading, as they are of good talking. Even the ob- servance of punctuation marks should come by habit or practice, and should be instinctive rather than reflective and self-conscious. The rules found in Noah Webster's spelling book, " Stop at a period long enough to count six," etc., are altogether absurd. On this point Quintilian is a safe guide. "As to reading," he says, "practice alone can inform the young gentleman where he ought to take breath ; where he is to lay the accent in a line ; where he is to finish one period or begin another ; when he is to raise or when to lower his voice, and at every turn to know when to speak quick or slow, with spirit or with softness." Upon this head he recommends one gen- eral rule in order to enable the boy to do all that has been mentioned, which is, " Let him understand what he * How to Teach Reading, pp. 13, 14. 92 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. reads." The ease or difficulty with which children learn to read, in the real sense of the word, differs greatly with different children. Much depends upon Nature and much upon environment. Quick-witted children brought up in intelligent homes, where they hear from birth good reading and talking, will, under good tuition, learn to read almost as naturally as a thrush learns to sing. Mr. Scudder questions whether Dogberry " did not stumble upon a truth, and narrowly graze a most profound maxim," when he exclaimed, " To write and read comes by nature ! " There can be small doubt that reading aloud is much less practised in good homes now than it was formerly, when reading matter was less abundant. Conversation has been called a lost art ; perhaps reading aloud is quite as much so. At all events, reading aloud in the family is almost as helpful to children learning to read as talk- ing in the family is to children who are learning to talk. Professor Dowden remarks : " Few persons nowadays seem to feel how powerful an instrument of culture can be found in modest, intelligent, and sympathetic reading aloud." He makes a justifiable attack on " the reciter and the elocutionist," who "of late have done so much to rob us of this, which is one of the. finest of the fine arts," * but says nothing about the decay of the habit of reading aloud, which is a still more observable fact, and one still more to be regretted. Professor Corson contends earnestly for the cultivation of the reading voice. Urging his favourite thesis in respect to vocal cultivation he says : " How much the charm of beauty's powerful glance, may be heightened or reduced by the character of the voice which goes along with it ! A woman with a sweet and gracious voice can exert through it in the ordinary relations of life, without even knowing it, a better influence than she could * New Studies in Literature, pp. 431, 433. TEACHING READING AS AN ART. 93 by distributing religious tracts. The moral atmosphere of a home may be not a little due to the voice of the wife and mother. The mere memory of a voice which was toned by love and sympathy may continue to be a sweet influence long after the voice itself has been hushed in death. The influence of the voice for good or evil, in the domestic, social, and all other relations of life, can not be estimated. A voice may even have a good or bad reflex action upon its possessor." * Note. — Mr. George Ticknor, when studying in Germany, wrote to his father that he was in the habit of reciting German to his teacher and of reading aloud to him in some book which required some considerable exertion of the voice. This the father, Mr. Ehsha Ticknor, approved, but added these suggestions, which will bear quotation : " It is not of so much importance for you to read aloud to a German as it is that a German should read aloud to you. Select one of the finest oratorical readers in Gottingen, whose voice is round, and full, and melodious. Place yourself twenty feet from him, if possible. Request him to select and read aloud to you a pathetic oratorical piece in German — such a piece, if possible, as will command all the powers of speech and eloquence. . . . Twenty pieces thus read to you by him, and in turn by you to him, in his tone of voice, would do you ten, twenty, yes, thirty times as much good as it would for you to read to him first, and in the common way, at common distance, and in common language. It is the tone of the voice, and the attitude of a polished German scholar, which you need to be able to read and speak German well, like a German gentle- man and scholar. Do the same in Paris, in Rome, in London, and what you will hear and see otherwise at the bar, and from the pulpit, and in common conversation, without^ any particular exertion of your own, will be sufficient to answer all your purposes and all my expectations, which are but few, although you may think they are many." — (Life, Letters, and Journals of George Ticknor, vol. ii, p. 503.) * The Atlantic Monthly, June, 1895, p. 815. See also his Aims of Literary Study, pp. 129, 130. COMMENT ON CHAPTER XII. There are many different ways of beginning" the teach- ing of reading to children. They are variously named, alphabetic method, phonic or phonetic method, synthetic method, word method, and sentence method. The so-called '' alphabetic method " is the one that was used almost ex- clusively in Indiana a generation or two ago, and there are occasional traces of it still in a few scattered schools in the State. According to this method, the names of all the letters are taught first, then the child learns to spell short words, and after being able to pronounce words from spelling them he begins to read. On a little examination this is seen to be a very roundabout way of learning to read. There is no meaning in any way associated with the symbols learned, and no possible point of interest. It is one straight, long road of purely mechanical memory. It is an expensive and wasteful way to teach little children to read. This feat of learning twenty-six absolutely isolated char- acters, names and characters both new, usually takes from four to seven months of school. By either of the other mentioned plans the child becomes somewhat skilful in the recognition of words, sentences, and letters, and in a great deal less time. A word in regard to these different methods may be helpful. The phonic, phonetic, and synthetic method of teaching reading begin with the letters and their appropri- ate diacritical marks to indicate certain sounds. For in- stance, a with the breve over it stands for the short sound, d ; a with the macron over it for the long sound, d ; c with a lit- tle line through it, €, stands for the sound of k, and so on through a great part of the symbols used. When the child has learned a sufficient number of these isolated letters and 98a COMMENT ON CHAPTER XII. marks they are combined, as r-oA or €-a-t^ and the child is able to give the sounds rapidly and thus pronounce the word. The names of the letters may or may not be learned at this time. There are many variations in these methods. There are little games, songs, and stories that are frequently used to deepen the interest in an otherwise dry subject and make the association stronger thereby. The word method consists in showing the child an entire word at first, and trying to have him make the association between the printed or written form (whichever may be used) and the idea or object and the oral word. The child must think of the idea and the appropriate oral word when he sees hat, table, elephant, hall, girl, etc., printed or writ- ten. He may learn quite a list of these isolated words before seeing them combined into sentences or before breaking them up into the letters. The sentence method says the child should first see a completed sentence embodying some thought of his own. The pupils may be studying the cat, and some one says, " The cat is black," and the teacher puts this on the board. Several sentences may be given in this way. The children remember the entire sentences as standing for the particular thoughts. Several words may be picked out and memorized, as cat, black, paivs, tail, and so on. Many teachers prefer to teach a few words by the word method first, and then use these in sentences with a few new ones at a time. In this way there are fewer new elements presented at one time and the words are more likely to be remembered. But whichever method may be followed, this should be said : Children are so different that what appeals to one fre- quently does not to another ; they tire so easily of a certain plan always followed, they have so great a desire for variety, are so easily interested by a new picture or story or manner of doing anything, that it is doubtless the experience of the most successful teachers that a combination of all these plans is preferable to either one followed exclusively. Whatever plan is followed, the teacher must remember that the pupil is to be made self-helpful. He must learn how 93b TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. to pronounce his own new words. Until he can do this he is far from being able to read except in a very limited sense. If the teacher in the beginning uses the word or sentence method mainly, she must soon make the transition to the letters. The children should see that certain letters in cer- tain relations usually stand for certain sounds. If the child is able to recognise only words or, sentences as wholes, he is utterly helpless when brought face to face with a new word. The child may know the word cat, but before he has anything that can help in a new word he must know that c (followed by a) is hard, or has the sound of Ic ; that a (fol- lowed by. t only) is short (in nearly every case. What and squat are exceptions, but the skilful teacher will say noth- ing at all about these two words at present). And, finally, that t says its own certain sound. This is purely mechan- ical work, but it must be done. There are many little de- vices that lend charm to this prosaic work, and they are occasionally helpful in assisting the pupil to make a lasting association between a letter or letters and their sounds. Instead of having the children look for the relation of letters as determining the sounds, these are also indicated by diacritical marks and the word then appears eat. But when this is done, the child is made to feel that the marks used determine the sounds of the letters, which is not true. Then, too, the child is not helped at all to master words that he sees in which the diacritical marks are not used. Too much can not be said in favour of having the child see the relation of letters as determining sound, rather than forcing an extraneous thing upon him as the diacrit- ical marks are. When the child has analyzed the words and, red, and hat (or has seen the phonic side) he should know the sounds of the letters in their relations to other letters. Thus a has nd after it and says a ; e has d after it and says ^ ; he knows the sounds of r, d, a (t), t, and n, or probably knows what sound the combination and stands for. However, if hand were new and placed before the class they should be able to work out the pronunciation from knowing the sound of h 93c COMMENT ON CHAPTER XII. and mid or of h, n, d, and a followed by nd. No diacritical marks need be used at all. The child must look at the word fairly and squarely and try to give the sounds of the letters. Diacritical marks may be used, but before the child is really independent he must learn the relation of letters as determining sound in so far as it is true in English. And it is true to a much greater extent than we commonly sup- pose. With words in which relations of letters do not deter- mine sound the marks may be used if the teacher wishes. But the diacritical marks have a very necessary place in indicating the sounds of letters, as in the dictionary. And somewhere in the intermediate grades the children should learn how to use this valuable book ; but they should form the habit of first attempting the pronunciation alone. They may be just as dependent upon a dictionary as upon a teacher for the pronunciation and meaning of words. Reading, like other subjects, should make the pupil self- helpful. While this notion that the child is to become master of these symbols — be able to gather their meaning readily — is a great one in primary reading, it is also an end in advanced reading. But it grows less and less evident and the thought more and more prominent as we advance. Even in the higher grades and high school the teacher should have for one aim this : the pupils are to have a better command of the purely mechanical side of the discourse ; that is, they must be more ready in the pronunciation of words : they must see the unusual use of certain words ; they must read better orally; they must grasp whole sentences with less effort. It is certainly true that in the first part of primary read- ing the lessons can not give new knowledge. We must not forget that before we read to learn we must learn to read. The limit of the child's energy is reached in master- ing word forms. But because this is a fact is no reason why the so-called thought should become entirely meaningless. The old lesson, " Is he in ? He is in. Is he in it ? He is in it " may be just as difficult as, after having a lesson on the 93d TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. fly, the children make the reading lesson themselves : " This is a fly. The fly has wings. The fly has six legs." The primary reading can be based upon the Nature work. Flowers, buds, leaves, seeds, snow, frost, rain, seasons, cats, dogs, cows, horses, butterflies, hands, eyes, and scores of other objects lend themselves readily to this work. This lends a new interest which is a great help in the mastery of these symbols. The association of a word form with its cor- responding idea is better made when the child is thoroughly awake to some interesting situation. However, the teacher must not forget that she is teaching reading, and that a great deal of mechanical work is necessary. But this can be so combined with the ideas gained from the other work that the children do not recognise the repetition because the words are combined in a new way, and they are interested in finding the story. As already noted, the influence of a good example in oral reading is a great thing. When children hear no oral reading better than their own it is little wonder that they do not read well. To be sure, the correct oral expression depends upon the adequate interpretation of the thought. But it must also be remembered that good mechanical read- ing — by that I mean the ability to give in a general way the right inflections, the observance of rhetorical pauses, etc. — all this is a great aid in the interpretation of thought. The teacher should be a good oral reader. She should cultivate a smooth, pleasant tone, and be able to put into a selection all the necessary thought and feeling. She should, occa- sionally at least, read the lesson with the children that they may hear how the lesson sounds at which they are looking. We must not forget that the matter of language, as to tone, pauses, and smoothness, is mainly the result of imitation. The note given by Dr. Hinsdale at the close of the chapter is worthy very careful consideration because of its bearing on this idea of imitation in oral reading. One word probably ought to be said concerning the value of oral reading. It is usually looked upon as an accom- plishment, its value being largely due to the fact that it COMMENT ON CHAPTER XII. can be used as a source of pleasure to others. This is only a partial view. The principle that has been spoken of before, that the very attempt at adequate expression assists in ade- quate or correct thinking, also applies here. Oral reading", then, ought to be one end sought in the reading work. It may, of course, be a source of pleasure to others, but it also materially assists the pupil in catching clearly the thought embodied in the selection. We have said again and again that if the child understands clearly the meaning in a sen- tence or paragraph he will give the correct oral expression. We have said this and at the same time were sure we had pupils who could form a reasonably good notion of the thought, but were very deficient in the oral expression. It is a difficult question as to the best way to attain this end, but if we remember that the actual possession of a thought is the fundamental thing, and that the adequate attempt to express it helps to a better comprehension of the thought itself, we will see oral reading in its true light. Just how far the teacher should read for the child and the child learn through imitation is a question upon which teachers them- selves are not agreed. But that oral expression is largely a matter of imitation can not be denied, and this fact should help to give an intelligent working idea of the value of the child's hearing good reading. — S. E. T-C. 93f CHAPTER XIII. TEACHING READIIn^G AS THOUGHT. The phrase " to teach one to read," as we have seen, may express either one of two ideas. It may mean to teach a mechanical-mental art, the use of a mere tool, or it may mean the employment of this art or tool to unlock the mysteries of the printed page. While the two mean- ings are closely connected, they can still be separated in thought and also in practice. The second, it is hardly necessary to remark, is the higher meaning ; it is the end to which all instruction in the art or mechanism of read- ing should be directed. When thus employed, the stu- dent's attention is no longer fixed on the mere art ; the use of the tool has become mainly automatic, while the matter of the page absorbs the mind. Having in the last chapter said all I deem it necessary to say about the mechanical aspect of the subject, we must now consider the thought aspect. And, first, much that, has been said about the language- arts in general applies to reading as thought — so difficult is it, or rather impossible, to separate the two subjects. This close relationship, while it lightens the work of the teacher, rather embarrasses the writer who attempts to describe the work, making more or less repetition inevi- table. The following are the points that need to be par- ticularly observed : — 1. At the very first, teaching reading presents, or 94 TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 95 should present, but one phase. The child can do nothing alone, and the teacher must work with him as well as /or him. There is no such thing as preparation or study apart from the reading exercises, or rather everything is preparation for reading in the future. The single exer- cise, commonly given on the blackboard or the chart, is wholly homogeneous. Therefore, when the teacher stops everything stops. These remarks apply to the mechanical side as well as to the thought side of the subject. 2. Soon, however, the work will begin to differentiate. The first step in this direction will be the tendency to make two exercises — one preparation or study of the les- son, and the other reading it ; and both will be taken under the teacher's immediate leadership. This division, begun but slowly, will in time be distinctly recognised. The preparation will include the substance of all the ele- ments of composition — words, sentences, and paragraphs. The next step in the evolution is the student's own in- dependent work on the lesson. Gradually he will win standing-ground, and as he does so the teacher will throw him more and more on his own resources. First will come the so-called " silent reading " of the lower primary grades, to be followed in time by the so-called " study " of the higher grades. The pupil's own independent work may sometimes follow and sometimes precede the study of the lesson in the class. This third step taken, all the forms of exercise used in teaching reading are present. Supple- mentary reading deals only with a special class of reading matter. 3. Independent work by the pupil involves the assign- ment of a lesson. Particular care must be taken that the lessons assigned shall be on the pupil's level of knowledge and language. The successive lessons will contain new words and new ideas, otherwise there will be no progress ; 96 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. but any lesson is on the pupil's level in case he can rise to it with reasonable assistance from the teacher. 4. In assigning a new lesson the teacher should, as a rule, first tell the young children what it is about, and par- ticularly if the subject is a new and unfamiliar one. More than this, she should direct attention to the difficult parts of the lesson, also, as the meaning and pronunciation of new words, and the force of particular expressions. In early lessons all new words should be put on the black- board and be explained, both phonetically and as signs of ideas. 5. From the time that they are able to do so, pupils should be required to study their lessons in advance of the class exercise. Increasing stress must be laid on this feature of the work, as the direct participation of the teacher in the preparation of the lesson is withdrawn. There is reason to fear that many pupils, after they have made a fair beginning in reading, do not think such study necessary. They understand that they must prepare the lessons in arithmetic, grammar, geography, etc., but the reading lessons — why, that is merely so much time in the class ! This is one point where the teacher will find it necessary to resist the steady pressure of the more ad- vanced pupils. The ordinary reading exercise calls for preparation as much as any other exercise that can be named. In the words of a German writer : " Before the child begins to read, it must know what it is going to read about. The pupil must read with at- tention and with interest which the teacher has excited before the reading begins. The difficulties also which would interfere with the interest must be removed before- hand. Everything most necessary to a good understand- ing of the subject should be explained at the outset, and not at the end when the best impressions are effaced. TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 97 The teacher must connect every new reading lesson with the sense perceptions already obtained, or with what has already been read, and thereby make it comprehensible." * 6. The teacher in the higher grades and in the high school will find it advantageous, as frequently as possible, to study a lesson with the class. Such study should occa- sionally be conducted on the intensive plan. Grammatical questions may be introduced, and every pains should be taken to illustrate the composition or passage. Obser- vation has taught me that pupils often, if not indeed generally, fail to take full views of reading lessons. While the sentences may be understood one by one, the larger units that they compose are not grasped. If the passage is argument or reasoning, it is not thought out ; if it is description, the imagination does not work out the picture. To a great extent, of course, these imperfect views are in- cident to the immature minds of pupils. Then short and imperfect views are due in part to the school readers. The readers are made up mainly of pieces and fragments, and the complete compositions found in them are com- monly few and always short. In books prepared for early grades this is, no doubt, necessary; nor can it be wholly avoided in the more advanced books. No doubt the school reader must be a more or less chopped-up com- pilation ; at the same time it is very desirable that the pupil shall become thoroughly familiar with complete and considerably extended compositions. The evil that the readers entail may be corrected through supplementary reading and literature. I approve the method recom- mended by the Conference on English to the Committee of Ten. " From the beginning of the third year at school, the pupil should be required to supplement his regular * Cuttmann, quoted by Lange : Apperception, p. 210. 98 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. . reading-book with other reading matter of a distinctly literary kind. At the beginning of the seventh school year the reading-book may be discarded, and the pupil should henceforth read literature — prose and narrative poetry in about equal parts. Complete works should usually be studied. When extracts must be resorted to, these should be long enough to possess a unity of their own, and to serve as a fair specimen of an author's style and method." * 7. Constant efforts must be made to connect the read- ing lesson with all other available sources of cultivation. The teacher should appeal to the pupil's own personal ob- servation and reflection, the new ideas should be integrated with old ones, and pains be taken to unite the reading with the other studies, and particularly with history and geography. The newspaper and magazine, the cyclopaedia and dictionary, and, above all, books of general literature, are invaluable helps. In other words, the teaching must be on the intensive plan. Professor Laurie remarks that " the question of method at this stage resolves itself very much into this : How shall we best use the reading lesson as a lesson in language and through language in the hu- manities? Here more than anywhere else the cultiva- tion, the knowledge, the sympathy, the imagination, the educative skill of a teacher show themselves. The read- ing lesson is the common ground on which the true mind of master and pupil meet." \ This is well said, but a ques- tion almost equally important is, How shall we best use language as a lesson in reading and through reading in the humanities? 8. Mention of the dictionary suggests another topic * Report of the Committee on Secondary School Studies, p. 89. Washington, 1892. f Page 32. TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 99 that demands fuller treatment, viz., definitions. Mean- ings of words are the keys to the printed page. Still, the study of meanings is not just the same thing as the study of definitions. It is true, paradoxical as it may appear, that a reader may grasp the thought of a passage as a whole when he can not define all the words one by one, or does not even, understand them all ; it is equally true that he may define and understand the words one by one and fail to grasp the whole thought. The mind may take either one of two views, both of which are harmful when carried too far : it may overlook small points in the general drift or substance of the passage, or it may be so intent on small points that it fails altogether to grasp the drift or substance. A definition does not add to one's real knowledge unless it connects itself with something that he already knows. It must go back to some real or vital element in his mind. The growth of knowledge is a process of grafting a new fact or new idea into an old one ; * the scion draws its sap, life, and growth from the stock in which it is set ; and to bring a fact or an idea to a mind having no kindred fact or idea is no less futile than it would be to set a graft in a branch of a dead tree. Further, a definition consists of two parts — the generic part and the characteristic, specific, or differencing part. Thus, a "map is a picture" (the generic part)." of the whole or a part of the earth's surface " (the character- istic). A good definition always refers the object defined to its genus, and then points out wherein it differs from other objects or species belonging to the same genus. We must have some idea of both of these parts in order to learn anything. When you tell a child that a " calabash * " Receive with meekness the engrafted word " (James i, 21). 100 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. is a vessel made of a gourd," you add to his knowledge provided he already knows what a vessel is, and a gourd ; but if he is ignorant of both these things you give him merely a new word, or if he is ignorant of one of them you merely give him half an idea. The point just made must be carefully guarded. The small dictionaries, which give short definitions without il- lustrative examples, often prove snares to the feet of both pupils and teachers. Teaching definitions from the school reader may even be a harmful process. The pupil may recite his definitions glibly, when a little questioning will reveal the fact that he has committed to memory some strings of words soon to be forgotten. To define a cent as " one hundredth part of a dollar," and then a dol- lar as " one hundred cents," is merely to run around a small circle. Too much pains can not be taken to bring definitions into relation with real things, natural or men- tal, as the case may be. Mr. Marsh is right in contend- ing that there is a large and increasing part of all mod- ern vocabularies which can be comprehended only by the observation of Nature and scientific experiment — in short, by the study of things. Another point may be mentioned. It is an invariable rule that, in defining a word, no form of the same word should be employed, as a verb or adjective in defining a noun. To say that creeping is " what a baby does when it creeps " is not to give a definition at all, not even a ver- bal one. That much of this kind of work is done in the schools, is well known to competent observers. Words should be studied both in literature and in the dictionary. Either kind of study checks the other. One is to study the word in itself, the other in situ. A geo- logical or botanical specimen in a museum is not what it is when found in Nature. The boy who said " an aver- TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. IQl age is something that a hen lays an egg on," had evi- dently seen the word " average " in a sentence ; while the boy who framed the sentence, " John came over the sea in a capillary," had evidently hunted up the word "capillary" in the dictionary. In reading, thought is obtained by successive strokes of analysis rather than by synthetic construction ; the mind breaks into the com- position, so to speak, and does not buildj i^ "pjl tro^h the letters, syllables, and words; and commonly tiie questions. What is the force of this expression:^ or ^What'i.dskclo' you get from that language ? are more usef iil than the questions. What is the meaning of this word or that one? While it would be untrue to say that the idea should always come before the word, we are not to forget that the primal order of mental growth is real knowledge before verbal knowledge. 9. The teacher should question the pupils about the lesson before they read it in the class. First should come some general questions about the subject and scope of the lesson, which should never be answered in the words of the title. Then should follow more definite questions appropriate to the subject-matter: "What did John say?"^ "What kind of coat did the beggar wear?" " Describe the house that the man lived in." " Give an account of the performances of the dog." 10. The teacher should frequently require of her pupils summaries of portions of the lesson, both before and after reading in the class. Also, general accounts or descrip- tions of the whole lesson. Oral paraphrases of selected parts will re-enforce the work in language. Such exercises show how well the lesson has been prepared and how thoroughly it is understood. How far the teacher should go in questioning on the meaning of a reading lesson, must be determined at the 102 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. time upon the spot. Nor is it easy to determine the ques- tion then and there. If questions are unduly multiplied the exercise is slow and tedious, and pupils are discour- aged ; they think the teacher does not give them credit for knowing anything. On the other hand, if too few are asked, the lesson will not be understood. It is not always the case that the commonest things are the things that the cl,u|d;, understands the best. Pupils can be found who can explain ^' the curfew tolls" of Gray's Elegy, who can net' (?Xpiain ihb< line — " The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea." I have found pupils reading The Village Blacksmith who had no idea what the word " smithy " means. In this re- gard the environment and reading of the pupil are of course prime factors. Children sometimes show great unconscious ingenuity in answering questions. A pupil of my acquaintance explained the line, "Once again his horn he wound," to mean that the possessor of the horn wrapped it round with yarn. I have been told by three schoolboys in suc- cession, eleven years of age, that the firmament is a place like the poorhouse, that it is green pastures, and that it is old cider. The 7nal apropos answers to questions that constitute the material of Miss Le Eow's well-known book, English as She is Taught, are perfectly character- istic of children, and they teach two important lessons. Many of these answers are naturally incident to immature minds, and must be corrected by time and experience ; but others flow from bad teaching. Teachers have as- sumed that their pupils understand what they do not un- derstand, and so have withheld their instruction, or they have not been clear in their instruction. Every person who is accustomed carefully to examine the contents of TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 103 pupils' minds knows how meagre, how incomplete, how confused their ideas are; In large measure children must groiv out of their imperfect knowledge, and can not be taught out of it. Clearness and fulness are relative terms. One important caution must be added. To take up so much time in preparing to read that little or no reading is done, is a fatal mistake, and one easily and often committed. There must be reading, and plenty of it. Incidentally school readers have been mentioned more than once in these pages. We may recur to them in this place, for they are immediately connected both with teach- ing reading and teaching literature. One point to be guarded in the compilation of a series of school readers, and particularly those for the more ad- vanced grades, is the length and unity of the lessons, and another the literary quality of the lessons. Touching the first of these questions, again, two things should be said. One is that the practice of introducing masterpieces into the schools is a good one. The benefit attending the reading of whole compositions, and especially composi- tions of considerable length, is unmistakable. In this way the mind acquires a discipline in dealing with large subjects, in mastering the connections of thought, in see- ing the bearings of things and the dependency of parts, which it can never gain from short or fragmentary compo- sitions. Still, due preparation for this work must be first made. Short compositions must come before long ones. And, most fortunately, there is plenty of admirable mate- rial for the purpose. There are single poems and prose lessons, units in themselves, masterpieces in a word, which are as complete and perfect of their kind as the longer masterpieces of the language. Moreover, plenty of ma- 104 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. terial can be found in longer works ; that is, complete poems and prose exercises, marked by perfect unity and artistic perfection in themselves, can be found in the pages of all the great masters of verse and prose. Take, for example, one of Scott's metrical romances or one of Shakespeare's plays. There will then always be need of collections of such material, selected and arranged with reference to the needs of the child and of the school. While we welcome the large use that teachers are com- ing to make of the masterpiece, we need have no fear or hope that it is going to put the readers out of the schoolhouse. The other point is that to compile good school readers requires peculiar taste and judgment, as well as practical knowledge of the necessities of the school. The English Conference before mentioned made these sound recommen- dations, which are, however, of wider scope than the topic immediately before us : That reading books should be of a literary character ; that in teaching reading no at- tempt should be made to teach physics, science, or natural history ; and that sentimental poetry should be lightly drawn upon. School readers should touch all the main sources of the mental life, and should furnish a good in- troduction to English literature ; and that they may do this, they must be mainly drawn from the literature of power rather than the literature of knowledge.* Many subjects important in themselves are unsuitable for school readers, because they do not admit of literary treatment. No one would think of cutting a reading lesson out of a mathematical text-book or a scientific treatise. In fact, * " The function of the first [the literature of knowledge] is to teach ; the function of the second is to move ; the first is a rudder, the second an oar or a sail." — (De Quincey : Alexander Pope.) TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 105 it is only when a writer on science turns aside from his subject proper and seizes its literary elements, as its de- scriptive or poetical phases in their peculiar relations to his own mind, that he can be said to produce literature at all. No discredit is hereby cast upon books of infor- mation or books of science ; they are invaluable both in school and in home, but it is a mistake to use them as school readers. The geographical readers, natural history readers, and the like can be successfully used only in a supplementary capacity, subordinate both to the special subject and to reading. Of all special subjects, history no doubt furnishes the best material for such a purpose, because it is so rich in human interest. Having first re- marked that in early childhood ." the normal condition of life is a sensitive imagination, curious, wondering, reach- ing out to the unknown, building busily fabrics, often of strange form, out of the material cast in its way," and that in school parlance reading is the term applied to an exercise which is an end in itself, Mr. Scudder says : '* Give to the child as soon as he is master of the rudiments of reading some form of great imaginative literature, and continue, year after year, to set large works before him, until he has completed his school course." This he calls " the educational law of reading," which he again states in this form : " I repeat that the educational law of reading lies in a steady presentation to the grow- ing mind of those works of art in literature which are the glory of the nation, of the race, and have an undying power to feed the imagination." * Professor Charles Eliot Norton also contends earnestly that reading books, all of them, should be made up of pure literature ; and, agree- ably with this view, he introduces into the first book of * The Atlantic Monthly, February, 1894, pp. 255, 256. 106 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. the series of readers that he has edited a large part of Mother Goose.* The school reader has been called the " walking-beam of the school." Besides being a practice book for teach- ing an art, and an anthology of English literature, it fur- nishes motive power for all the school studies, and partic- ularly for those that are taught from books. Moreover, it is scarcely an exaggeration to call it "the walking- beam " of the intellectual life. It is therefore to be re- gretted that there should be room for question as to the character of the great series of readers that are used in the schools. It is not difficult to find critics who hold that, in this respect, we have lost ground within the last twenty-five years. Lindley Murray's English Header served its purpose, and passed out of use ; no wise man w^ould attempt to bring it back to the home and the school ; but it must be said to the credit of the old Grammarian that his book contributed to form the minds of successive generations of readers, many of whom in correctness of literary taste and appreciation need not fear comparison with any of the better-schooled youth of our own times. This chapter relates to reading as thought. Moreover, this book deals with the thought side of reading rather than the mechanical-mental side. This is not because the mechanical-mental side is unimportant and does not need careful attention. School children are not going to pick up the technical elements of reading or acquire vocal facility unconsciously. Some, no doubt, will do so. The majority, however, must be taught to read by a teacher who understands that the mechanical parts of the art are second only to the spiritual parts. The old word " drill," * See the preface to the Heart of Oak Books, Second Book. TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 107 which is now so much out of fashion, has its place, for the organs of speech will not, without conscious effort, become accustomed to those co-ordinations among themselves that are needed in reading, or become co-ordinated to the mind, without appropriate exercises. Accordingly, from the beginning the vocal or elocutionary elements demand constant attention. Here everything depends on habit. Distinct articulation and due deliberation in utterance make reading intelligible ; the one guards against indis- tinctness, and the other against the confusion that arises from too great rapidity. Emphasis brings out the rela- tive importance of words. In reading, pronunciation must be watched as carefully as grammatical forms are in conversation and language lessons. At the same time, the teacher of reading must cultivate spontaneity in the- pupil. Freedom is all-essential. The function of criti- cism will be made the subject of a chapter later on ; here, however, it is necessary to say that, when the class has prepared the lesson, either with or without the teacher's assistance, and they come to read, they should be left to read freely without interruption. In this way only can they put themselves into the work, which is so essential to good reading. And this is another argument for thorough preparation ; without it the pupil can not be master either of the subject or of himself. In the primary class the mechanical part of reading comes first, in the advanced class last. Two short exercises will illustrate what has been said in regard to questioning on reading lessons. 108 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. I. SuN'SET oia THE Border. Day set on Norham's castled steep, And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone : The battled towers, the donjon keep, The loophole grates where captives weep, The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone. II. The warriors on the turrets high. Moving athwart the evening sky, Seemed forms of giant height : Their armour, as it caught the rays. Flashed back again the western blaze In lines of dazzling light. III. St. George's banner, broad and gay, Now faded, as the fading ray Less bright, and less, was flung; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the donjon tower, So heavily it hung. Name the writer of these stanzas and the poem from which they are taken. Generally speaking, in what di- rection does the Tweed flow? Into what body of water does it empty? Why is it so celebrated in song, story, and history? Name the countries on either side. On which side is Norham? Is there anything in the stanzas that enables us certainly to tell? What bearing, if any, has the banner on this question? On which side of the river are the Cheviots? In prose construction, would TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 109 Norham and Tweed be in the possessive case? Explain the expressions " castled steep " and " the donjon keep." Explain also line five of the first stanza. For what noun does " it," line six, stand ? What are flanking walls and turrets? Describe the armour that the soldiers wore. In what direction were the rays flashed back ? Why did the warriors on the turret seem giants? The stanzas having been well sifted by such questions as these, the teacher may continue : " Now we will go through the lines and build up the picture. First, put in the river, broad, fair, and deep, and the lone mountains ; then the castle crowning the steep, with its battled towers, its donjon keep, and flanking walls sweeping around the keep, and the captives weeping at the grated windows — the whole shining with the golden lustre of the closirg day. Put the warriors on the high towers, moving back and forth before the evening sky, their burnished armour reflecting the blaze of the setting sun. Over the donjon fling out the banner, broad, gay, and faded, hanging heavily in the evening breeze." The great point in such exercises is not so much to call out or to impart definite information on particular points as it is to stimulate the imagination — to develop the whole scene from the words. In framing questions care should be taken to change somewhat the words of the text, or to throw them into a new order. Words and forms of expression tend to become crusted over, and it is necessary to break up the crust. The last thing to be done is to read the stanzas in a manner that will give the natural colour and life to the whole. And here it may be remarked that what Socrates says to Ion of the rhapsode is equally true of the reader. *' And no man can be a rhapsode who does not understand the meaning of the poet. For the rhapsode ought to in- 110 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. terpret the mind of the poet to his hearers, and how can he interpret him well unless he knows what he means ? " II. Liis'ES FROM Lowell's Poem oit the Graves of Two English Soldiers o:n" Cokcord Battle Ground. 1. These men were brave enough, and true 2. To the hired soldier's bulldog creed ; 3. What brought them here they never knew, 4. They fought as suits the English breed : 5. They came three thousand miles, and died, 6. To keep the Past upon its throne ; 7. Unheard beyond the ocean tide, 8. Their English mother made her moan. 9. The turf that covers them no thrill 10. Sends up to fire the heart and brain ; 11. No stronger purpose nerves the will, 12. No hope renews its youth again : 13. From farm to farm the Concord glides, 14. And trails my fancy with its flow ; 15. O'erhead the balanced hen-hawk slides, 16. Twinned in the river's heaven below. 17. But go, whose Bay State bosom stirs, 18. Proud of thy birth and neighbour's right, 19. Where sleep the heroic villagers 20. Borne red and stiff from Concord fight ; 21. Thought Reuben, snatching down his gun, 22. Or Seth, as ebbed the life away, 23. What earthquake rifts would shoot and run 24. World-wide from that short April fray ? Such questions as the following will naturally occur to the intelligent teacher who reads carefully the foregoing lines : — 2. What is the difference between a hired soldier and any other soldier ? Does the word " hired " always mean what it here means I What do you understand by a bulldog creed? TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. m 3. What did bring the two soldiers to Concord? 4. How does it suit the English breed to fight ? 6. What is meant by "keeping the Past upon its throne"? How did the death of the two men contribute to that end ? 8. Explain this line. 9-13. Explain these lines, and name the leading nouns and verbs. 13-16. What connection have these lines with the four preced- ing and the four succeeding ones! Why has the poet introduced them ? Would you say the Mississippi " glides," or the Niagara ? Explain " the balanced hen-hawk slides," " twinned," and " river's heaven." 17, What is the antecedent of " whose " ? What is the force of " but " ? 18, Why has the poet connected " birth " and " neighbour's right " ? 19, 20. Where are these villagers to be found ? 21, 22. Name the subject of " thought." 23, 24. Explain these lines. In Chapter VII something was said about the ethical value of lessons in the lower grades. Such value should never be lost sight of throughout the school course. History and literature are the school studies that are richest in such value, and they must be the great reliance of the teacher in promoting the ethical culture of his pupils. Still, the ethical effect of these studies should be felt indi- rectly rather than directly. Dr. Harris has wisely said : " There is an ethical and an aesthetical content to each work of art. It is profitable to point out both of these in the interest of the child's growing insight into human nature. The ethical should, however, be kept in subordination to the aesthetical, but for the sake of the supreme interests of the ethical itself. Otherwise the study of a work of art degenerates into a goody-goody performance, and its effects on the child are to cause a reaction against the moral. The child protects his inner individuality against effacement through external authority by taking an attitude of rebellion against stories with an appended moral. Herein the superiority of the aesthetical in literary art is to be seen." * * Report of the Committee of Fifteen on Correlation of Studies. COMMENT ON CHAPTER XIII. Point " 3 " g-iven by Dr. Hinsdale at the beginnings of Chapter XIII is a very important one. A teacher's ability may be gauged by the kind of assignments she makes. The indefinite assignment so often made on a reading lesson, " Study Lesson 25 for to-morrow," is in most cases worth- less. All the children can do from such an assignment they can do in a very few minutes, and then are ready for something else. A good assignment for the lower grades must designate particular points to be investigated. Prob- ably it may be to find all the parts of the lesson that help to determine just where the circumstances narrated took place ; all the j)arts that show the boy was industrious, or negligent, or obedient ; all the parts that are particularly beautiful and why they think they are so ; to select two or three distinct pictu res and give them ; to give the meaning and force of certain expressions, as used to he in the line " Where mam- ma's things used to 6e" in One, Two, Three. Of course, the questions for the lower grades must be those that can be readily answered from the book, and in the recitation the pupils must be held to finding the exact language that answers the question. The teacher should not accept a whole paragraph in answer to a question, if the answer is really indicated in but three words or half a sentence of the paragraph. This should lead the child to accurate discrim- 111a COMMENT ON CHAPTER XIII. ination in the language used. Questions which require' research, or which deal largely with inferences drawn from what is stated, are better adapted to intermediate and higher grades. As to the nature of such an assignment and the recitation work from it, an illustration may make it more clear. Here is the first paragraph from Lesson 15, Indiana Third Reader : " One cold Christmas eve an old man and his wife were sitting before the lire in their little home. They were poor and had to work very hard to make a living." Suppose that two questions on the lesson are : " What time of year did this happen ? Were they rich people ? " Let us see how far does this paragraph answer these ques- tions. [The children should be required to find every other part in the lesson that also bears on these questions, but for our illustration one paragraph will answer.] In the first place, the time is definitely given, Christmas eve. But the time is also suggested in a general way by cold {cold Christ- mas eve), and sitting before the fire. These two parts are suggestive that, if it is our own climate, it is hardly summer — must be the cooler part of the year and when people usu- ally sit around the fire. The second question is also answered directly and indirectly. The last sentence says, " They were poor " — a clear, direct, concise answer to the question. It also says both of them "had to work very hard to make a living." So working hard was a necessity that they might even have a living. If this were true, they must have been poor. Besides, it does not say the old man worked very hard, but both of them (not did work, but) had to work. So as suggesting the fact that these people were poor, we have the expression " they had to work very hard to make a living," from which we infer the fact of their poverty. In this expression the parts that help most, taken in their connection, are they, had, and very. This is what I mean by this illustration on the paragraph given. In answer to the question, " What time of year was 111b TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. it ?" the cMldren may say "Christmas eve," and it is cor- rect. In answer to the second, " Were they rich people ? " they may say, " No, they were poor," and this is also exactly right. But these answers do not indicate that the children have given more than the most cursory glance at the lesson. After these answers are accepted suppose we say, " If these parts Christmas eve and they were poor had been omitted, then could we have answered these questions ? " From this lead them to see that we could not have decided exactly on Christmas eve — in fact, could decide little more than that probably it was not summer time ; but in regard to the wealth of these old people, we really do not need the ex- pression they were poor, for the remainder of that sentence is full of meaning on the same point. Children must be able to see the suggestive meaning, " to read between the lines," as we often say, if they are to get the full measure from the reading period. To add this touch, I would suggest a third question to be given with the first two suggested, so the as- signment will be : 1. " What time of year did this happen ? 2. Were these people rich ? 3. Point out everything in the lesson that in any way helps you to decide these points." When the recitation period comes, the third question is the one to have by far the most time. The selections used by Dr. Hinsdale illustrate the work with advanced pupils. But long before children reach these grades they should be working out the thought embodied in selections read. To illustrate what may be done with third-, fourth-, and fifth-grade children, let us take the little poem One, Two, Three, by H. C. Bunner, on page 16 of the Indiana Third Reader. Owe, Tivo, Three. 1. It was an old, old, old, old lady, And a boy who was half-past three, And the way that they played together Was beautiful to see. 111c COMMENT ON CHAPTER XIII. 2. She couldn't go running and jumping, And the boy, no more could he ; For he was a thin little fellow, With a thin, little, twisted knee. 3. They sat in the yellow sunlight, Out under the maple tree ; And the game that they played I'll tell you Just as it was told to me. 4. It was Hide-and-go-Seek they were playing. Though you'd never have known it to be — With an old, old, old, old lady. And a boy with a twisted knee. 5. The boy would bend his face down On his one little sound right knee, And he'd guess where she was hiding, In guesses One, Two, Three. 6. " You are in the china closet ! " He would cry, and laugh with glee. It wasn't the china closet ; But he still had Two and Three. 7. " You are up in papa's big bedroom. In the chest with the queer old key." And she said : " You are warm and warmer ; But you're not quite right," said she. 8. " It can't be the little cupboard Where mamma's things used to be ; So it must be the clothespress, grandma." And he found her with his Three. 9. Then she covered her face with her fingers. That were wrinkled and white and wee ; And she guessed where the boy was hiding, With a One and a Two and a Three. Hid TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 10. And they never had stirred from their places, Right under the maple tree — This old, old, old, old lady, And the boy with a lame little knee ; This dear, dear, dear old lady, And the boy who was half-past three. The thing that we face directly in any selection is the printed (or written) language. But we must always get back of that. In this case, as we read the poem through, we - construct a little picture, which is directly suggested by the language. Ask the children to tell what things they have put into their picture, and see if they have performed this necessary act in the interpretation of the selection. If they have done this they have taken the first step in inter- pretation. This is also the first thing to be done in the reading of Sunset on the Border, taken from Scott's Mar- mion, as well as in the reading of the lines given from Lowell. It is dependent upon the maturity of the class and the nature of the selection as to just how much stress should be put on this phase. But with the children who are only ready to study One, Two, Three, considerable time should be given to it. Printed language at this stage of progress is comparatively a new thing, and as the pictures are directly suggested by the language, it is very helpful to dwell on this phase. The children should picture the entire game as played by the grandmother and crippled boy ; understand the meaning of " warm and warmer " ; see clearly the maple tree, why they were sitting there, etc. Then they should see that of all the elements entering into the picture — old lady, boy, maple tree, house, papa, china closet, chest, etc. — there are two without which the picture would have no meaning : the old lady and the child. They should be led to give as accurate a description of each of these as the lesson affords. The lady is very old — see the repetition of the word " old," " fingers white and wee," llle COMMENT ON CHAPTER XIII. " could not run and jump," " sympathetic and happy," etc. Then all the points bearing on the boy should also be seen — three and a half years old, and remark the unusual way of stating" this, "half-past three." We should probably have said the child was three and a half years or three years and six months. See the added element of smoothness in Mr. Banner's way of putting it over our own. If possible, lead the children to see this is a poetic way of statement, and is not necessary in ordinary conversation. The line should end in three for the sake of the rhyme, and half-past three gives the right number of syllables to preserve the rhythm. Then the child was crippled in the knee, the left one, for he would bend his face down "on his little sound right knee." He was cheerful and entered into the make-believe game with as much zest as he might have done in a real one, for " he would cry and laugh with glee." Beside all this, the child was probably motherless, for the little fellow once guesses, "It can't be the little cupboard where mamma's things used to be " — one of the peculiar and common uses of the word used is in just this way. The pupil should be led to state the particular point in the language that gives him any idea whatever that he puts into this picture. This is what was meant in the illustration with the paragraph from Lesson 15 in the Third Eeader. So much for the picture itself, and many persons insist that this is all there is in such a lesson. But to most of us there is a thread running through the whole — a something that makes itself felt through the picture, that giv^es unity to it. That is the sympathy between old people and little children, the childlikeness of old age, especially when con- ditions are such that they are thrown together a great deal. However, each teacher must decide for herself whether or not this is clearly enough expressed to lead a fourth- or fifth- grade class to see it. No pupil can read this lesson without a mingled feeling of sorrow for the old lady, pity for the child, and admira- tion for both. We are sorry the old lady can not move 1111 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. around freely, but have profound pity for the child because he can not do the same. It is the natural result of age, but most unnatural to children. Besides, the feeling of pity for the little boy is increased because this lameness is in his leg. If it had been a twisted elbow or a lame hand, he would still have had the freedom of moving from place to place, which is a source of great enjoyment to children. Add to all this the fact that this boy, a mere child of three and a half years and crippled, is doubtless motherless, and the feeling of pity for him almost overshadows all others, unless it is the admiration we have for his sunny, cheerful, childish, acceptance of his condition. However, this is childhood, and probably our admiration for this trait in this boy is but an admiration of the wonderful adaptability of childhood itself. If this lesson be left without seeing the old ladies and crippled children around us, without our sympathy with such people being increased, the selection has not made the life impression it should have made. Sympathy and admi- ration for these in the story, who are, probably, only ficti- tious characters, means little if there is no transference of feeling from them to real people in our circle of acquaint- ances. This the real teacher — the tactful, skilful one, the one who sees that education means assimilation and not merely a stowing away, the one who sees that true growth from school work must show itself in the every-day life — is sure to do. This teacher presents the subject in such a way as to make the transference of interest from the old lady and little boy of the poem to certain people of these kinds that come in touch with the pupil's life. It is far from my purpose here to mean that the teacher should use the reading lesson as a text from which to preach a lengthy sermon, and no skilful teacher will do this. Mor- alizing as such is unpleasant, especially when it is aimed at ourselves. But there is a way of using these bits of beauti- ful literature that will lead the children to feel that they are only concrete embodiments of some great fact of human life, 11 Ig COMMENT ON CHAPTER XIII. and it is the possession of this great and important fact that saves us. There are eight or ten words in this lesson that have not occurred in any lesson in the Readers before. Some of these are " twisted," '* china closet," " wee," " thin," " glee," and " key." It is hardly necessary to mention even the fact that these words are new to the class. By the time the lesson has been worked out as suggested, the pupils will know the pro- nunciation of most of them, and as soon as they know the pronunciation the meaning will also be known. The mean- ing of each of these words is old : it is only the printed form that is new. In the First Reader, and probably through the greater part of the Second, the new words should be worked out before beginning the careful study of the lesson. But when the Third Reader is reached the pupils should be able to work out nearly all the words without any help. They can do this if from the beginning they have been required to look for the old part in the new word. Take the word twisted J for instance. Is and ed are old. Put t with is (ist), then w with ist (wist), then t with wist (twist), and add ed, and the word is pronounced. This is far more helpful than for the teacher to pronounce it for the class or to mark it diacritically. The question of the learning of definitions is an impor- tant one in teaching reading. Some teachers make the abil- ity to recite stereotyped dictionary definitions the test of the pupil's ability to read a selection. It would seem that the necessary thing is to be able to use the word in a sentence in such a way as to indicate its meaning. It is as difficult a thing for children to define common words as for some of us older people to define apple or grass — objects with which we are very familiar. When something in the language is found that can not be explained from the context, then the pupil should go to the dictionary. But instead of the dic- tionary being the first resort it should be the last one. Pu- pils should try to determine meanings from the selection and use the dictionary to verify their judgments. It is only in L lllh J TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. the school and liome that the dictionary is at our elbows. The great outside world tries to interpret each word or ex- pression from the relation in which it is used — that is, from the context. Now let us look back over the work on this selection and see what we have done. We found : 1. The story itself and constructed all the pictures as definitely as the language would warrant. 3. Back of the concrete story of this old lady and little boy there was a general suggestion of sympathy between people under like physical conditions ; also that genuine enjoyment is not necessarily dependent upon age or even bodily well-being. 3. We had distinct feelings regarding these two people in the story. 4. We have around us in every-day life just such per- sons as we found in the story, and for whom we should have just as much pity and admiration as for these probably fic- titious characters. 5. We should encourage ourselves in being more thought- ful for the comfort and enjoyment of persons who we know are in any way unfortunate. 6. We noticed the excellent adaptation of the language to bring out the points suggested — the repetition of the word "old," the word "used," the expression "half-past three," and others. Also the selection of a little crippled, motherless child excites far greater pity and sympathy with unfortunate peo- ple than would a man of fifty having the same character- istics. The child's life is all before him ; the other, nearly all behind him. The lesson has been read orally all the way through in this study. The words which were new have been worked out (if they needed to be worked out) at the time and place the pupil wished to use them, but they were not put out be- fore the pupils and labelled " new words^'' and, I was about to add, " Beware I " If previous work is carefully done, the llli COMMENT ON CHAPTER XIII. pupils should have but little trouble with ordinary new words now. It is sometimes a helpful way of finishing- the work on such a lesson to have it read orally from first to last without any interruptions from questions and explanations. S. E. T-C. lllj CHAPTER XIV. TEACHING COMPOSITION. Formerly the compositions in schools where they were required filled the pupils with more fear and trem- bling than any other exercise. " Composition day " was the black day of the week or month. For this there were several reasons. Most persons feel shy and timid when called upon to write compositions that they are to read in public, and especially the young and inexperienced. Then in the old elementary schools pupils rarely received any prep- aration for essay- writing. They knew nothing of language lessons, and written work of any kind was not required. They were rather left until they reached the upper grades of the elementary school, or perhaps the high school or academy, when they were suddenly called upon to produce the dreaded " composition." The call made, they were generally left to choose their own themes, to gather their own materials, to make their own outlines, and to write their own essays — all with little or no help. The only criticism was a few verbal corrections written on the paper, which half the time the pupils did not understand. Some of the more inventive or facile of them, by sheer dint of effort, struggled on and became good v/riters, but the majority found little benefit in writing their compositions. It was a regime that needed to be changed in every particular, and that has been so changed in all the 112 TEACHING COMPOSITION. 113 best schools. Still, the subject is often badly handled at the present time, and it yet needs much carefal dis- cussion. In the broadest sense composition is the expression of thought by means of language. It involves invention and style ; or, first, the provision of ideas, and, second, their arrangement and utterance in sentences and paragraphs. Properly it includes the oral expression of thought as well as its written expression, but usage has confined the word practically to writing. Composition follows reading in the order of the school, as reading follows speech in the order of life. It rests on the same fundamental principle as the other language- arts. As the child learns to talk by talking and to read by reading, so he learns to write by writing. According- ly, power of utterance is the first desideratum. Fluency must be sought for before correctness ; or, in other words, the teacher must have freedom and spontaneity in view. While it is true that to write good sentences is more me- chanical than to speak or read them, at the same time we must rely upon use and wont rather than precepts. Formal grammar and rhetoric should play no part in the early stages of composition teaching. Obviously composition stands to language lessons in the same relation that the study of literature stands to reading lessons. It is a more advanced stage of progress. What has been said therefore of teaching those lessons, in previous chapters, is, for the most part, equally true and valuable in the present chapter. In fact, the two exer- cises are so much alike that it is impossible to write in- telligently about one without touching on the other. All the exercises that are grouped around the reading lesson should contribute to the composition lesson. Telling stories, conversation, reading, whether silent or aloud, 114: TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. recitations, oral narratives — all tend to swell at once the volume of the pupil's thought and of his vocabulary. Much the same may be said of all the exercises of the school. Whatever adds to the pupil's store of facts and ideas, enhances his power to think, and augments his lin- guistic resources, will minister to the art of expressing himself in written words. Still, the help that comes from these sources is not sufficient. No matter how full the mind may be, and how fluent the expression, the com- position will not write itself. At first the child has one single lesson that sums up his school work, viz., his read- ing ; but as he ascends the grades, the language-arts begin to diverge more and more, and finally become distinct studies, so called. Like the others, composition is a dis- tinct and separate art, and it can be acquired only through the use of its own distinctive methods. To adjust one's thought and utterance to the stylus — to co-ordinate mind and pen — can be accomplished only through practice. In Radestock's words, " Habit must build the bridge, uniting theory with practice, by changing dead knowledge into living power." There are good think- ers who are neither good speakers nor good writers, but which is the larger class — the good speakers who are poor writers or the good writers who are good speakers — it were hard to say. Ascham says, " Ready speakers gener- ally be not the best, plainest, and wisest writers, nor yet the deepest judges in weighty matters, because they do not tarry to weigh and judge of things as they ought, but having their heads overfull of matter be like pens over- full of ink, which will sooner blot than make any fair letter at all." One thing is clear, that the majority of people find the art of composition a difficult one. It was said of a great oculist that he spoiled a whole hatful of eyes learning to operate for cataract, and it is probable TEACHING COMPOSITION. II5 that most good writers have spoiled as many reams of paper in learning to write. How far excellence in writing depends upon Nature, and how far upon practice, is an old question, and one about which men are never likely to agree. Professor Minto has stated the case very temperately, as follows : " The successful practice of all arts must depend large- ly upon natural gifts. In writing, as in other arts, rules do not carry the practitioner far ; rules must always be for the most part negative, and a man may have the com- pletest knowledge how not to write and yet dip his pen and cudgel his brains in vain. None the less it is absurd to suppose that in writing, which is one of the most diffi- cult of the arts, a man has nothing to learn, nothing to gain by study — that he has only to know his subject and the words will come of themselves in the best possible choice and order." * While we may cheerfully concede that the great writer, like the poet, is born and not made, we need not hesitate to say that the ordinary writer is made and not born. It is a matter of practice rather than of talent or genius. The school can do little for the great writer, and he may safely be left to shift for himself, but it can do much for the ordinary one. Still more, the practice must run along the line of examples rather than of precepts. Roger Ascham said very aptly : " And surely one example is more valuable, both to good and ill, than twenty precepts writ- ten in books. And so Plato, not in one or two, but in divers places doth plainly teach." Quintilian declares that without the assistance of Nature precepts and treatises are of no avail. His treatise, he says, was not written for him to whom talents are wanting any more than treatises on * Plain Principles of Prose Composition, p. 8. 116 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. agriculture are written for barren ground. And still he closes his introduction, from which this illustration is taken, with the impressive warning: "These very quali- ties, likewise, are of no profit in themselves without a skilful teacher, persevering study, and great and continued exercise in writing, reading, and speaking." But it would be a great mistake to suppose that the main efficacy of examples or models is conscious imitation. As a man unconsciously takes on the manners and habits of the society in the midst of which he lives, moves, and has his being, so he takes on the manner and the style both of the thought and language of the books in which he becomes deeply interested. The fact is, that intelligent minds grow up in a literary environment that impresses them strongly. As Professor Minto says again : " The obvious truth is, that the man who writes well must do so by example, if not by precept. In any lan- guage that has been used for centuries as a literary instru- ment, the beginner can not begin as if he were the first in the field. Whatever he purposes to write, be it essay, or sermon, or leading article, history, or fiction, there are hundreds of things of the same kind in existence, some of which he must have read and can not help taking more or less as patterns. The various forms or plans of composi- tion of every kind have been gradually developed by the practice of successive generations. If a man writes effect- ively without giving a thought to the manner of his com- position, it must be because he has chanced upon good models, and not merely because he knows his subject well, or feels it deeply, and has a natural gift of expression. He can spare himself the trouble of thinking because his predecessors have thought for him ; he is rich as being the possessor of inherited wealth." * * Plain Principles of Prose Composition, pp. 8, 9. TEACHING COMPOSITION. II7 Still, we can not trust to environment alone. There must be study and practice and earnest striving to im- prove. The following directions and hints, as a whole, are given for the guidance of the teacher rather than of the pupil : — I. Good training in the other language-arts, and par- ticularly in language lessons, should prepare the way for formal composition. It will rob the essay of half its ter- rors. Unfortunately, the teacher on going into the school will sometimes find that such preparation has not been made. Furthermore, it will be impracticable to put the older and more advanced pupils at pure language work. What shall be done in such cases? Xo better course can be taken than to effect a compromise between what should be and what can be, adapting the work to the pupil the best that circumstances will permit. II. In composition it is peculiarly important to enlist the interest and pleasure of the pupil. Mere drill is use- ful in some studies, as in mathematics, but it will accom- plish little in composition. Essays that do not interest the pupil are not likely to interest others. III. The choice of a subject is of importance. The subject determines the pupil's source of matter, and matter and style can not be separated. If he has an abundance of ideas he is likely to express himself with clearness and force. If he has no ideas, or few, the plight of the children of Israel in making bricks without straw is pleasant in comparison. The subject should inspire confidence in the pupil, not be a load for him to carry. There is little benefit in the pupil's laboriously piecing together facts and ideas and stamping the product an " essay." IV. As a rule, the teacher should choose and assign the subjects. If this is not done, the pupil is likely to lose 118 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. much valuable time in making a choice, and to make a bad one at last. It is important to help the pupil over the discouraging beginning. Many persons find it difficult to make a start who write well when once the start is made. Under this head still more definite hints and suggestions must be given : 1. The teacher should not throw subjects around the class at random, but, as far as possible, consult the indi- vidual taste and capacity of pupils. The right theme should find the right boy or girl. Composition should follow and not precede the pupil's interest. The teacher should choose the line of least resistance. 2. Avoid abstract and general themes and choose those that are concrete and particular. On this point Mr. Huff- cut has some excellent remarks. "Every schoolboy has written his essay on the vir- tues, and every schoolgirl has filled her allotted number of pages with vague generalities regarding Sunshine and Shadow. Consign all such subjects to the limbo of Dr. Quackenbos's Khetoric. If you doubt that that is the proper place for them, read his list of five hundred and sixty-six subjects for essays, among which one finds such as Spring, Peace, War, Death, Life, Anger, Astronomy, Jealousy, Conscience, and Law ; Earth's Benefactors, The Stoic Philosophy, The Comparative Influence of Individ- uals and Learned Societies in Forming Literary Character in a Nation ; and, finally, as if neither this world nor the limits of time could confine the knowledge and imagina- tion of a schoolboy, the learned doctor seriously announces as a suitable subject for classroom use The Immortality of the Soul. We can not avoid a little disappointment at not finding something about the Kantian Philosophy, Esoteric Buddhism, or Transcendental Physics ; but per- haps these omissions are compensated for by the inclu- TEACHING COMPOSITION. 119 sion of the subjects, Mesmerism, Psychology, and Spir- itualism." * 3. In the elementary school " book subjects " should be used sparingly ; subjects from Nature and life will be found more real and interesting. But, care must be taken not to vulgarize the mind by the selection of vulgar sub- jects. The cyclop93dia subject is vicious, since it stimu- lates compilation rather than observation and thinking, and so lacks reality. Still, literature is a proper and in- dispensable source of subjects and materials. The pupil who is old enough to read Ivanhoe or The Lady of the Lake may write out the action of the novel or poem, or a part of it. Shakespeare may be used to excellent advan- tage in the school. For younger pupils shorter tales or -stories will answer the purpose. Nor do I mean positively to prohibit the cyclopaedia ; it may be used to much ad- vantage in a tentative form of research work ; the great point is to make the essay real and vital. 4. There are four types of prose composition : narra- tive, description, exposition, and argumentation. As pure types they should be taught in the order in which they are here enumerated. The bearing of this point on the selec- tion of themes is obvious. Narrative, or the story form, is the proper one for young children. Description should not be attempted nntil the powers of observation are somewhat developed. 5. Progressively, the level of the subjects, as well as the treatment demanded, should be raised. In particular, pupils should not, to the end of their school life, be trust- ed only with particular themes, but should gradually have their faces turned toward abstract thought. V. The teacher should instruct the pupil in the modus * Enghsh in the Preparatory Schools, pp. 15, 16. 120 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. or machinery of composition. Pupils, and older persons for that matter, who have ideas and language, often fail in composition because they do not know where to begin, how to proceed, or when to end. In a word, they do not know how to organize their matter. This is a subject which calls for much careful thought on the teacher's part, and to assist the teacher these more definite obser- vations are submitted : 1. There are three units of composition : the sentence, the paragraph, and the essay. Every one of these units in itself is an organic whole. Back of it is a distinct idea. A sentence is the proper expression in words of one main thought, with or without one or more modifying thoughts. It is not any string of words that may be parsed, or that even makes sense, but an organization of words conveying a clear and separate thought. It must contain one subject and one predicate at least, and it may contain more or less subsidiary matter. A paragraph is an ordered series of such sentences that together present one phase or aspect of a subject. It is a fully developed thought. It is not, therefore, a mere series of sentences, a piece or section of a composi- tion cut off at random, but a complete organic whole. An essay proper is a series of paragraphs that deal with the whole of the subject, or with several phases of it, duly arranged in order. It is not a piece of writing filling so many pages, or occupying so much time, but it is a thought-out composition having a beginning, a mid- dle, and an end. 2. By the time that he has reached the seventh grade, at least, the pupil should understand the function of every one of these units. Whether he can define them or not is not material. The teacher can readily show their use and relations by anal3^zing with the class a number of suitable TEACHING COMPOSITION. 121 compositions. Of the three the paragraph will give the most trouble. This is partly owing to the caprice with which good writers sometimes paragraph their work, part- ly to the slight attention that books devoted to composi- tion and rhetoric give to the subject, and partly to its in- trinsic difficulty. The paragraph stands midway between the sentence and the essay. It is at once both a whole and a part. It rests, however, on a single psychological conception. " In all our voluntary thinking," says Pro- fessor James, " there is some topic or subject about which all the members of the thought revolve," and this topic is the core of the paragraph. The principal trouble in handling it arises from the tendency of the revolving members to fly off and attach themselves to some neigh- bouring centre of thought. The pupil will commit many blunders, and can attain to skill only through much practice ; and these facts are reasons why his attention should be directed to the subject almost from the time that he begins to write. Written or printed matter that is divided into sections of appropriate length looks better on the page than matter that is not so divided ; still, the great reason for paragraphing is psychological. It is needed to show the logical relations of the different parts of the subject-matter. 3. The sentence is the ultimate unit of all speech that expresses thought. Without good sentences good com- position is impossible. At the same time good sentences do not insure good paragraphs or a good essay. The rela- tions of the sentences are hardly less important than the sentences themselves. Still, the sentence is the beginning point. In order to write good sentences the writer must see clearly the subject, the predicate, and the subsidiary matter. Whether he knows the words that name or de- scribe these elements or not, is of little practical conse- 122 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. quence. And further, the first sentence has a certain rela- tion to the second one, the second to the third, and so on. This is the reason why it would be very inconsiderate for a writer to compose his sentences as he might discharge shots from a pistol, mechanically. He should rather seize the whole view of the subject that forms the topic of the paragraph, and then proceed to write his sentences. It would be too mechanical for him to count out in advance these sentences, but he should mentally encompass the ground that he proposes to inclose in words. In this way the paragraph reacts most decidedly upon the sentences. In a previous chapter it was incidentally remarked that the child's first essays should be single paragraphs. In this way the idea of the paragraph will be developed, and also skill in executing it. In such cases, however, it is not at all necessary that the several views or phases of the subject should be sharply discriminated. The paragraph essay will in due time give way to the essay proper. Dr. Whately has remarked that copiousness of matter follows from the limitation of the view, and that fact is an additional reason for studying the paragraph. " The more general and extensive view," he says, "will often suggest nothing to the mind but vague and trite remarks, when, upon narrowing the field of discussion, many inter- esting questions of detail present themselves." * While a boy of fourteen can not do much with the universe, he may fairly be expected to treat adequately some very small part of it. A pupil of mine once wrote an excellent essay on " Washington as a Farmer," who would probably have written an indifferent or poor one on " Washington." VI. What has been said under the last division in- volves the making of outlines. To analyze a subject is to * Elements of Rhetoric, 1, 1, 2. TEACHING COMPOSITION. 123 discover the phases that present proper subjects for para- graphs. Accordingly, when the pupil passes from the paragraph essay to the essay proper, the teacher must give the needed attention to this matter. Some subjects he should analyze for the benefit of the class, outlining them on the blackboard. He should freely discuss plans and outlines with the pupil privately. Outlines may also be required of the pupil that he is not expected to fill out. If a pupil merely holds a subject dangling before his vision, or causes it rapidly to revolve like a thaumatrope, he will not get any clear view of it either in part or in whole ; when, if he would carefully look at its several phases, he would immediately discover things that would interest him. Once the subject has been chosen and the plan agreed upon, the remainder of the road is commonly easy. Of course when book subjects are assigned the teacher must be ready to furnish titles and directions for reading. VII. Eules and criticism. While the function of criti- cism in the language-arts will be made the subject of a separate chapter, two or three observations are called for here. One is, that a teacher of composition must not be too nice. What the pupil needs is writing, and plenty of it, and the teacher must not unduly repress spontaneity. The first thing is to get the stream of thought to flowing. Still, grammatical errors and vulgarisms must be rigor- ously corrected from the first. Absurdity of matter and infelicity in expression must be left, in great part, for the pruning knife of time. Another thing is that rules should not be taught as formal lessons, but should be in- troduced, when introduced at all, in connection with criti- cism. As Professor Minto says in the passage already quoted, " Rules must always be, for the most part, negative." Again, only mechanical rules should be given ; rules that 124 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. embody psychological laws should be left to a later day. The leading rules for capitalization and punctuation should be taught in the lower grades. Let not the teacher, however, be too minute in his exactions, particu- larly under the second head. Punctuation is an art, and a very delicate one at that. Finally, the teacher should arrange exercises and lessons with reference to pupils' mistalies, as in capitalization and the use of verbal forms and syntactical constructions. One very important point should, perhaps, have re- ceived earlier mention, viz., the relation of thought-mate- rial to thought-expression. It has indeed been alluded to in the remarks concerning the assignment of subjects, and again in the quotation from Whately regarding copious- ness of matter. The topic brings before us again, at a more advanced stage of the education of the child, the relation of intellect and language. From the very nature of this relation, it follows that the first requisite to com- position is to have something to say. Composition is a real and not a formal exercise ; and the admonition to *' first catch the hare " is not more essential to cooking a hare than the admonition to attend first to invention is to the formation of good style. The great writers of the world have been men gifted in both gathering and retain- ing the materials of composition. They have been men of observation, of insight, of reading, of reflection, of capacious and retentive memory, of two or more of these qualities, as well as of creative faculties. The powers of creation can be developed only on a basis of such mate- rials. We are amazed at the fertility and productivity of mind shown by Sir Walter Scott when at the maturity of his powers. There is equal reason why we should be amazed by the omnivorous reading, the wide and keen ob- servation of Nature and man, and the thorough research TEACHING COMPOSITION. 125 that in earlier years accumulated the materials which his imaginatiou afterward worked up into ballad, poem, and romance. It will be seen that the plan of teaching language and composition outlined in these pages does not contemplate the use by the pupil of the current books on those sub- jects, or indeed of any b.ooks at all. Such helps would be useful to the well-equipped teacher; to the ill-equipped one they would be invaluable ; but it is not advisable to put them into the hands of the learner. The work to be done is not the learning or recitation of lessons, but rather the practice of an art under intelligent guidance. The formal instruction that the pupil really needs should be furnished by the teacher. To set the pupil at work at a book makes the work artificial, mechanical, and unreal. It is just as absurd as it would be to give him a book of object-lessons. Much is now said about conducting teaching on the intensive or concentrative plan. The idea is so to select and combine studies that one will help another. The de- sirability of pursuing this course in the language-arts has several times been urged in preceding chapters, and noth- ing more needs to be said on the general subject. But the question sometimes assumes this form : Shall a special teacher of English be employed in the school ? In oppo- sition to an exclusive reliance upon such a teacher, it has been urged that, in the period of life when imitation is so powerful, the child should be kept as far as. possible from bad models, and as near as possible to good models ; also " that every thought which he expresses, whether orally or on paper, should be regarded as a proper subject for criticism as to language. Thus, every lesson in geog- raphy or physics or mathematics may and should become a part of the child's training in English." " There can 126 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. be no more appropriate moment for a brief lesson in ex- pression," it is said, " than the moment when the pupil has something which he is trying to express. If this principle is not regarded, a recitation in history or in botany, for example, may easily undo all that a set exer- cise in English has accomplished. In order that both teacher and pupil may attach due importance to this inci- dental instruction in English, the pupil's standing in any subject should depend in part on his use of clear and correct English." * While the general tenor of this teaching is sound, it is in one particular carried too far. If the pupil is allowed in his general lessons to fall into slovenly habits of expres- sion, the good work of formal lessons in English will be undone; what is woven by day is ravelled out at night. But it is a great mistake to say that there can be no more appropriate moment for a lesson in expression than the moment when the pupil has something which he is trying to say. So far from that, this is the very moment when he should be left free and untrammelled to express what is in his mind, and this by the teacher of English as well as by the teacher of grammar or physics. It is the mo- ment for expression and not for a lesson in expression. To be sure, when the expression has been given as freely and fully as possible, it is the proper subject of correction. That must be a question of judgment. There can be no doubt, however, that the schools are now suffering, and suffering severely, from failures of teachers in the same 3chool, as a high school, to co-operate in the work of teaching English. Dr. Franklin gives an interesting account of the way in which he formed his style of composition, which is * Report of Conference on English to the Committee ot Ten, p. 87. Washington, 1893. TEACHING COMPOSITION. 127 certainly clear, direct, and forcible.* This account hap- pily illustrates what may be called the study of literary mechanism or architecture. While such study is ex- tremely use:^ul in its way, it must not be misunderstood or overvalued. Neither this bit of history nor Dr. John- son's recommendation of Addison quoted in another place must be taken too literally. Conscious imitation of style is a fatal method in literature. What the student wants is the genius or spirit of his model ; and the best way, in fact the only way, to secure that is to bring himself under the power of the model. The model must work in him as a force, not be imposed upon him as a rule from with- out. The method should be unconscious imitation, not conscious ; dynamics, not statics. The first new sap that circulates through the branches of a tree in springtime quickly pushes off the dead leaves that have defied all the storms of winter. Composition is a noble art, the value of which is not confined within narrow limits. It is rather of universal value. In school it directly helps the work in all the studies — in chemistry, physics, and mathematics, as well as in history and literature. In real life the art stands the professional man in good stead, as well as the man of letters. Ability to express one's thoughts clearly, forcibly, and with a degree of elegance — that is, ability to write good English — is perhaps the highest test of mental culti- vation. It is the slow-maturing fruit of real culture. Practice in the art should begin low down in the grades, and should continue, if possible, to the end of the college course. If this be impossible, as sometimes unfortunately it is, reasonable pains should be taken to create an interest in the work and an enthusiasm for it, while it is a subject for instruction, that will last the pupil through life. * See his Autobiography, Bigelow's edition, pp. 95, 96. CHAPTER XV. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. ' In preceding chapters many remarks have been made that bear on teaching English literature. It is necessary, however, to supplement these remarks, which have been incidental in character, with a formal chapter on the subject. The first thing for the teacher of literature to settle in his mind, and the most important, is the object or aim to be held in view. Why should literature be taught in the schools of the country ? What is it to teach literature ? What is taught when literature, as such, is taught ? What is literature ? Clear answers to these questions are the more necessary, for the reason that quite different things are taught as literature in the schools. Manifestly, too, we can not answer them without grasping the elements that enter into the conception of literature. These ele- ments, as I view it, are correctly stated by Mr. Quick in his Educational Reformers. " When the conceptions of an individual mind are ex- pressed in a permanent form of words, we get literature. The sum total of all the permanent forms of expression in one language make up the literature of that language ; and if no one has given his conceptions a form which has been preserved, the language is without a literature. There are, then, two things essential to a literary work : first, the conceptions of an individual mind; second, a 128 TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. 129 permanent form of expression. Hence it follows that the domain of literature is distinct from the domain of natural or mathematical science. Science does not give us the conceptions of an individual mind, but it tells us what every rational person who studies the subject must think. And science is entirely independent of any form of words : a proposition of Euclid is science ; a sonnet of Words- worth's is literature. We learn from Euclid certain truths which we should have learnt from some one else if Euclid had never existed, and the propositions may be conveyed equally well in different forms of words and in any language. But a sonnet of Wordsworth's conveys thought and feeling peculiar to the poet ; and even if the same thought and feeling were conveyed to us in other words, we should lose at least half of what he has given us. Poetry is indeed only one kind of literature, but it is the highest kind ; and what is true of literary works in verse is true also in a measure of literary works in prose. . . . There are two ways in which a work of literature may excite our admiration and affect our minds. These are, first, by the beauty of the conceptions it conveys to us; and, second, by the beauty of the language in which it conveys them. In the greatest works the two excel- lences will be combined." * Literary taste relates especially to the second of these elements, beauty of expression. Reverting to Professor Laurie's analysis of language, we see that literature em- braces the first and last of the three elements. It is a real study and an aesthetic study. Fundamentally the object of teaching literature is the same as the object of teaching reading as thought ; the main difference between * Pp. 5, G. See also J. H. Newman, University Subjects, Lit- erature. 130 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. the reading of the primary grades and the literature of the high school or the college being one of degree and not of kind. And this brings us back to the old idea, that the art of reading is only a tool with "vyhich to ac- quire the wealth of knowledge, thought, and beauty with which books are stored. To convey meaning is the great function of language ; but literature has also a message of grace and beauty for the soul, which is partly in the thought itself and partly in the expression of the thought. Gray's Elegy, for instance, pleases not so much by its ideas as by the setting and expression of the ideas. The stanza beginning " Can storied urn or animated bust," translated into ordinary prose, is commonplace enough. Great literature, prose or poetry, and especially of the creative order, is rich in this ideal and aesthetic element. It is not something separate and apart from the real ele- ment, but is bound up with it, and can not be separated from it. Good style goes with subject-matter. " Style is not to be compared," it has been said, " to the vesture which covers a man's body, but rather to the native and natural covering of the beasts of the field. The play and elasticity of the close-fitting lion's hide is very different from any vestment with which the fashionable tailor cov- ers the lion's master." We may say, then, that in teaching literature the real element and the ideal element — the substance and the art — must be held together. Still, the major stress should be placed on thought or substance. What follows when men sink meaning in words has been amply illustrated in two great periods of intellectual history — first, in the decline of Grecian literature, and secondly in the decline of the Eenaissance. A mistake at this point committed in the schools would be fatal to all sound education. Were TEACHINa ENGLISH LITERATURE. 131 literature to remain in the schools a day after the teachers should get into their heads the idea that their great func- tion is to teach " beauty," it would be an unmitigated curse. But while literature as such presents to our minds but two primary aspects, it presents many subordinate ones. It may be studied with a lexical purpose, dictionary in hand ; or^ it may be treated philologically, inquiring into the history and origin of words. It may be made to teach or illustrate the history of opinion and feeling, man- ners and customs, morals, politics, and religion, social life, and many other interesting matters. The stress may be laid on phonology, on the structure of sentences, on style, on the mannerisms of authors. The growth of literature, the life, character, and environment of authors, the rela- tion of literature to social life as cause or effect, are all important aspects of the subject. Or the student may spend his time hunting for curiosities, just as men have sought out strange signboards in cities and quaint epi- taphs in churchyards. It must be admitted, too, that these subordinate features have value, but not equal value. All, or most of them, may be recognised in teaching litera- ture, but not to the same degree. The truth is that they have variable values, according to the interest and purpose of the student. But, plainly, these variable factors must not be permitted to usurp the place that belongs of right to the universal factors. It is perfectly proper to use literature as a basis for teaching grammar, philology, his- tory, and the like, only the teacher who thus employs it should not suppose that he is teaching literature. Mr. John Morley says, " Literature, viewed as an instrument of systematic education . . . would mean a connected survey of idea, sentiment, imagination, taste, invention, and all the other material of literature, as affecting, and affected 132 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. by, the great experiences of the humau mind, and social changes brought by time."* Literature, therefore, has a grand teaching function, instructing men in politics, in morals and manners, in taste, and in religion, expanding their minds, filling them with high ideals, and in all ways refining their character and ennobling their life. It can not be said, on the whole, that literature is so taught in the schools as to fill this measure. Often at- tention is fixed on subordinate ends to such an extent that the work ceases to be the study of literature ; turn- ing on grammar, rhetoric, philology, criticism, or on two or more of these combined. Nor is it hard to discover the causes of the failure. Those to whom the majority of teachers look for guidance have sometimes failed to state clearly and strongly the true ends of the study. The classical tradition and the difficulty of the subject to- gether have suggested false ideals and false mehods. Clas- sical teachers tend to lay the stress on the grammatical and philological elements of the classics to the exclusion of the literary elements ; which, again, is due partly to the fact that the pupils are learning foreign languages, and partly to the exaggeration of scientific method, due in large measure to German influence. Often notes and comments are accumulated until the classic is buried out of sight. Often the teacher expends his strength on points that are important only to the specialist. Now, most unfortunately, the classical teacher has stood as the model of the literature teacher. First it has been as- sumed that English literature should be made to answer the same educational ends as the classical or modern lan- guages, and then methods have been chosen with reference to that ideal. The assumption is false and the methods . * J. C. Collins : The Study of English Literature, pp. 109, 110. .A TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. I33 are yicioiis. For evidence, I may point to the schools and to many of the editions of English classics that have been prepared for use in the schools. My attention has been called in particular to the " Cambridge Milton " edited by Mr. A. W. Verity for the University Press. Paradise Lost, books iii and iv, now lies before me. The volume, which is really a beautiful one, is made up as follows : In- troduction (embracing Life of Milton, History of Para- dise Lost, The Story of the Poem, Milton's Blank Verse)., 71 pages ; text, 60 pages ; notes, 78 pages ; index of words and phrases, 4 pages ; total, 213 pages. The disproportion of the illustrative matter to the text is really much greater than the figures show, because the type in which it is put is much smaller. Many of the notes deal with matter that is unimportant or merely curious, thus drawing the atten- tion of teacher and pupil away from the " Milton " to the sayings about Milton. Every student of the poem will remember the lines (33-36, book iii) in which the poet speaks of the blind poets and prophets : ..." Nor sometimes forget Those other two equalled with me in fate, So were I equalled with them in renown, Blind Thamyris and blind Mseonides, And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old." To these lines the editor devotes nineteen lines of closely printed commentary.* It is indeed very desirable that * " Thamyris ; according to Homer, Iliad ii, pp. 595-600, a Thracian bard, who, for boasting that he could surpass the Muses in song, was deprived of his sight and of the power of singing. Plato mentions him together with Orpheus twice (Laws viii, p. 829 E, Rep. X, p. 620 A). " Maeonides, i.e., Homer; called Masonides, either as a son of Mapon, or as a native of Mseonia, the ancient name of Lydia. Hence he is also called Masonius senex, and his poems the Moeoniae chartas 134 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. there should be a " Milton " that contains all this learn- ing, and Professor Masson has well met that want in his well-known edition of the Poetical Works. But in a *' Milton for schools," such as the "Cambridge Milton" purports to be, it is wholly out of place. Every gool teacher knows that the pupil will not learn the facts that Mr. Verity gives unless he is crammed, that he will very soon forget them even then, and that they would be of little value to him if he remembered them at all. " There are millions of truths," says John Locke, " that men are not concerned to know " ; and few mental qualities in the teacher are more valuable than the sense of perspective. We do not know the name of Horace's bore, and it is just as well that we do not. Directly opposed to the Verity model of teaching lit- erature is the one described by Mr. Hudson in his essay entitled How to use Shakespeare in School.* Save as might be necessary to accommodate the spirit of the pas- sage' to prose writing, I do not see that it is necessary or advisable to change a single word in the following passage before we adopt it as a general method for school use : or Maeonium carmen. The tradition of his blindness is mentioned as early as the Plomeric Hymn to the Delian Apollo. " Tiresias, the blind soothsayer of Thebes, famous through the (Edipus Rex of Sophocles and many other works down to Tenny- son's Tiresias. In De Idea Platonica, pp. 25, 26, M., refers to him as * the Theban seer whose blindness proved his best illumination.' " Phineus, another blind prophet, king of Salmydessus in Thrace ; best known in connection with the Plarpies (-^neid iii, pp. 211-213), from whose torments two of the Argonauts freed him. IiI his sec- ond Letter to Leonard Philaras (September 28, 1854), M. compares himself with Phineus, quoting the account of the prophet's blind- ness in the Argonautica of Apollonius Rhodius." * See his As You Like It, prepared for use in Schools and Families. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATUHE. 135 " As to the language part of the exercise, this is chiefly concerned with the meaning and force of the Poet's words, but also enters more or less into sundry points of gram- mar, word-growth, prosody, and rhetoric, making the whole as little technical as possible. And I use, or aim to use, all this for the -one sole purpose of getting the pupils to understand what is immediately before them, not look- ing at all to any lingual or philological purposes lying beyond the matter directly in hand. And here I take the utmost care not to push the part of verbal comment and explanation so long or so far as to become dull and tedious to the pupils. For as I wish them to study Shake- speare, simply that they may learn to understand and to love his poetry itself, so I must and will have them take pleasure in the process ; and people are not apt to fall or to grow in love with things that bore them. I would much rather they should not fully understand his thought, or not take in the full sense of his lines, than that they should feel anything of weariness or disgust in the study ; for the defect of present comprehension can easily be re- paired in the future, but not so the disgust. If they really love the poetry, and find it pleasant to their souls, I'll risk the rest."* It must be remembered that, for the time, we are deal- ing with schools, and not with colleges and universities. And for schools Mr. Hudson puts the mark high enough. In the higher institutions of learning, much more can be undertaken and accomplished. It is to this more ad- vanced stage of instruction that I should refer nearly all of the admirable suggestions of method found in Mr. J. C. Collins's Study of English Literature, although the secondary school teacher may read the book with great advantage-! * P, xii. f See particularly pp. 51-53. 136 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Within the limits defined there is room for a variety of exercises, or rather of questions. How far the study of words, grammatical analysis, historical illustration, and the like shall be carried is partly a question of time aud place. How proficient are the pupils? How much time is assigned to the subject ? Very often subordinate ends are essential to the accomplishment of the main purpose. Lexical questions, grammatical questions, rhetorical ques- tions, historical facts, and facts of Nature must be sup- plied in order that the content of the passage or lesson may be reached. Sometimes the general grammatical frame- work of a paragraph or composition may be considered. If the aim is to dwell upon a piece until it is thor- oughly understood, then questions and explanations must be multiplied until that end is reached. But the main rule is this: In teaching literature, questions and illus- trations must be subordinate to the development of the literary elements of the composition. Many things can be taught ahout literature without actually teaching it. Professor Corson contends that "a sufficiently qualified teacher could arrive at a nicer and more certain estimate of what a student has appreciated, both intellectually and aesthetically, of a literary product, or any portion of a literary product, by requiring him to read it, than he could arrive at through any amount of catechising." * Sometimes it is asked whether it is better to study a few compositions very thoroughly or many compositions less thoroughly. In my view the proper plan is to com- bine the two ideas, taking pains, however, to give the major part of the time to the more general and discursive work. The one exercise will give depth, the other breadth. The occasional intensive study of a composition is * Atlantic Monthly, June, 1895, p. 812. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. 137 Btrongly to be recommended. What I mean is to study, say, L'Allegro or a play of Shakespeare, with a view of get- ting out of it all there is in it. Still, it is not true that "all is in all." Bacon's generalization — some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested — is a good rule for the schoolroom. If we select only books of his third class, much of the chewing and digesting must be deferred until the school has been left behind. The saying that " the child should pass by nothing without thoroughly understanding it," is one of those pedagogical half-truths that are so cur- rent, like the maxim " Never tell the child anything that he can find out for himself." Mr. Hudson protests vigorously against making litera- ture a subject for recitation.* This is right, provided we are to take the word " recitation " in its strict sense. He recommends what he calls " exercises," " the pupils read- ing the author under the direction, correction, and ex- planation of the teacher. The thing is to have the pupils, with the teacher's help and guidance, commune with the author while in class, and quietly drink in the sense and spirit of his workmanship." Such exercises, however, should be supplemented by summaries, arguments, and written essays on selected points of interest. It follows that, as a rule, the pupils will answer their questions with * Professor Laurie demands, " Why do so many teachers make lessons of everything?" He protests against the "dissection" of a great writer, and indignantly asks : " How can you expect any one to enjoy Lycidas, or Portia's speech, or Hamlet's soliloquy, or Tintern Abbey, or the Ode to Duty, if they read ten lines a day — have to learn by heart a lot of notes (philological and antiquarian), and then begin to mangle the passages by constructing parsing and analysis tables — finally, perhaps, resorting to the degrading process of par- aphrasing ?"— (P. 115.) 138 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. their texts open before them. To compel them to cram up for the exercise would defeat the whole purpose. Mr. Hudson does not require, but commonly advises, his pupils to read the author before coming to the exercise. " Such preparation is indeed well, but not necessary." On this point the best teachers will hardly agree with him. As much as any exercise, literature needs preparation. The bad adaptation of the real study of literature to the pur- poses of the conventional recitation is one reason why so little of it has hitherto been found in the schools. Many teachers can grind on grammar, philology, or definitions, who do not see their way to teaching the conceptions of individual minds expressed in a permanent form of words. What has been said about recitations leads directly to another matter. Professor Laurie charges the Oxford dons with mistaking the question, " Can literature be taught ? " for the question, " Can literature be examined on ?" The distinction is an important one, and the mis- take is by no means confined to Oxford. Literature is a poor subject for the conventional examiner, just as it is a poor subject for the teacher who spends his time in merely hearing lessons. It is too indefinite and intangible. You can examine on the history of literature and ask many important questions about literary masterpieces, but how can you reach the mental growth that comes to the mind from silently feeding on ideas and beauty? The results of the study will declare themselves to the discerning in time, but they can not be summed up at the end of the term in an examination paper. Of course, I do not mean that literature, as such, can not be examined on. I mean only that the examiner must not look for such an examination as he would expect in science, in mathematics, or even in the classical and mod- TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. I39 ern literatures. He must adapt his questions to the real nature of the work ; must take into account the writer's aim, sources, and execution ; must look to connections of thought, to cause and effect, to scope and tendency, and must expect general rather than specific answers. The process will test the pupil's grasp of mind and literary appreciation rather than his technical knowledge. It can not be doubted, either, that the non-adaptation of litera- ture to the purposes of strict examination has had a marked effect in turning teachers of the subject to gram- mar and philology, and that it was formerly influential in causing the history of literature to be preferred to literature itself as a subject of school study. It is so difficult for many minds to believe that any valuable educational work is being done, unless it can be meas- ured out in examination papers ! Good sense protests, too, against the foolish haste and impatience that play so large a part in American educa- tion. In no other subject, perhaps, is it so important for parent, teacher, or pupil to be content to abide his time. Some one has compared the constant questioning of a child about a fact or, an idea that has found lodgment in his mind to pulling up the beanstalks in the garden to see whether they are growing. I am not quite sure that the analogy is a happy one, but if it holds anywhere it holds in teaching literature. It may be a question whether the doctrine of natural or negative education, which Rousseau carried to such an absurd extent, be not a needed correc- tion of our self-conscious processes. We express our ped- agogical ideas in metaphors that react upon our ideas, and so influence practice. The conception of education as exercise resulting in strength needs to be supplemented by the conception of education ^^ feeding resulting in growth. The processes of real culture are deep, silent, and uncon- 140 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. scious ; that is the least valuable part of an education whicli is most on the surface ; and the strongest argument that can be advanced for teaching literature is the fact that thus a habit will be formed and some material accu- mulated which will support and gladden life when pupils have passed out of the school into the world, and have forgotten their more technical studies. It happened that the history of literature got into the schools before literature itself. This was due to a variety of causes, some of which have been suggested. Shaw's Outlines of English Literature was the pioneer book in the field. This was all wrong. " Matter before form " is a sound maxim, and to-day, if time can be found for only one of the subjects, literature should by all means have the right of way. Fortunately, the needed correction has now been made : literature is in the schools. Still, it is desirable to teach the history in a systematic way. It would hardly suffice to rely on such facts as would be taught, or could be taught, in connection with the works studied. The subject should be presented connectedly, in outline, and may fairly embrace authors whose works pupils have not studied, provided they have studied other authors in sufficient number.* But it must not be for- gotten that literature and the history of literature are different though related subjects. I do not feel called npon to say how much time should be allotted to English literature, either in elementary grades or in high schools, and much less to lay out a course of study. My object is a more general and strictly pedagogical one. Besides, those questions have been often answered by the most competent experts. But I do deem it pertinent to offer one or two observations on the kind * Stopford Brooke's Primer will well answer for an outline. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. 141 of literature that should be chosen for high-school use. If this use is properly regulated, there will be little trouble in the grades below. Observation has led me to the conclusion that teachers are sometimes too ambitious, attempting compositions that are too difficult for their pupils. Of Shakespeare, the second-grade plays should be preferred to the first- grade ones : Twelfth Kight, The Merchant of Venice, As You Like It, A Midsummer-Night's Dream, and Julius Caesar should precede Othello, Macbeth, and Hamlet. The great Shakespearean tragedies are psychological and ethical studies too profound for the high-school grade of mind. " Something the same may be said of Hawthorne — choose the minor books rather than the major ones. Em- erson I have found in high schools, where he is entirely out of place. If selections are made from Carlyle, they should be essays that he wrote before he developed those extreme mannerisms of thought and diction which so strongly mark his later writings. Burke and Webster should be used with judgment. The Speech on Concilia- tion of America should be preferred to The Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts, or The Reflections on the French Revolution. The same may be said of Webster's First Bunker Hill Oration and Reply to Hayne and his great legal arguments. Addison's and Irving's best papers, Macaulay's best essays, Longfellow's poems, Scott's novels and poems, Goldsmith, Milton's minor poems— these are sources little likely to be too largely drawn upon in schools. I have not thought it necessary to make a direct or formal argument showing that it is desirable to have liter- ature taught in the schools of the country. Much of the present chapter is indirectly an argument for such teach- ing. But it should be said that literature has a distinct 142 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. place and a large place in education. Science brings the pupil into contact with the facts and laws of surrounding Nature. Philosophy spreads before him the facts and laws of his own being. Mathematics opens the door leading to the great world of quantity and so of measurement. His- tory unrolls the scroll of human events, and is occupied with probable knowledge. Language and grammar deal with the mechanism of thought, and so involve its nature and laws. Art is the study of beauty in objective forms. Literature is occupied with the human spirit as expressed in language. It is humanity. Its subject-matter is the conceptions of individual minds put in permanent forms of words. As Matthew Arnold said, it consists of the best things that men have thought and said. And, to state what literature is, is to assign the best of all reasons why it should be taught in schools. As said before, the pub- lic schools of the United States now cost the people $170,- 000,000 a year, by far the largest sum ever expended by a single nation for such a purpose ; but the schools earn the money, provided they do measurably well these three things ©nly : Teach the children of the land how to read, teach them what to read, and give them a love for what is good in English literature. The occasional intensive study of a lesson has been recommended. Such work will naturally take a wider range than purely literary study. Questions in grammar will often serve as keys to successful interpretation. This chapter may fitly close with an illustrative lesson. Lines prom L'Allegro. 1. Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee 2. Jest and youthful Jollity, 3. Quips and cranks and wanton wiles, 4. Nods and becks and wreathed smiles. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. 143 5. Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 6. And love to live in dimple sleek ; 7. Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 8. And Laughter holding both his sides. 9. Come, and trip it, as you go, 10. On the light fantastic toe ; 11. And in thy right hand lead with thee 12. The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; 13. And, if I give thee honour due, 14. Mirth, admit me of thy crew, 15. To live with her, and live with thee, 16. In unreproved pleasures free ; 17. To hear the lark begin his flight, 18. And, singing, startle the dull night, 19. From his watchtower in the skies, 20. Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 21. Then to come, in spite of sorrow, 22. And at my window bid good-morrow, 23. Through the sweetbrier or the vine, 24. Or the twisted eglantine, 25. While the cock, with lively din, 26. Scatters the rear of darkness thin ; 27. And to the stack, or the barn door, 28. Stoutly struts his dames before ; 29. Oft listening how the hounds and horn 30. Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn, 31. From the side of some hoar hill, 32. Through the high wood echoing shrill : 33. Sometimes walking, not unseen, 34. By hedgerow elms, on hillocks green, 35. Right against the eastern gate, 36. Where the great Sun begins his state, 37. Robed in flames and amber light, 38. The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 39. While the ploughman, near at hand, 40. Whistles o'er the furrowed land, 41. And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 42. And the mower whets his scythe, 43. And every shepherd tells his tale 44. Under the hawthorn in the dale. 144 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. These lines suggest many interesting questions as to the meaning and form of words, the force of expressions, and the nature and connection of the thought. The fol- lowing are given ; — 1. What is a nymph ? How many nymphs are men- tioned in the exercise? What are their names? Why is the second one called by the name given to her? 2. How many syllables in " wreathed," line 4, and why ? 3. What is the construction of the nouns in lines 2, 3, 4 ? Why are these things in particular mentioned ? Who is Hebe ? And why is she here introduced ? 5. Why do " sport " and " care," line 7, begin with capitals ? What is the subject of " deride," same line, and why do you think so ? 6. Why is " Laughter" presented as holding his sides? 7. Line 9, who is to come ? 8. Explain " fantastic toe," line 10. 9. Give the construction of " me," line 14. 10. What do " to live," line 15, " to hear," line 17, and " to come," line 21, modify ? 11. Answer the same questions for "listening," line 29, and " walking," line 33. 12. How can one hear a lark " begin " his flight, line 17? 13. Explain " startle the dull night." 14. W^hat idea do you get from " watchtower," line 19 ? Whose watchtower is it ? 15. Explain the expression " dappled dawn," line 20 16. Explain lines 21-24. 17. What clauses are introduced by " while," lines 25 and 39 ? and how far does the force of the 'adverb extend in either case ? 18. What does the poet mean by line 26 ? 19. Explain line 30. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. 145 20. What is the " hoar hill " of line 31 ? 21. Why does the poet introduce the expression " not unseen," line 33 ? To whom does it relate ? 22. Explain the expression " eastern gate," line 35. 23. Why is light called " amber," line 37 ? 24. Line, 38, what is the meaning of " dight " ? 25. What is the meaning of " furrowed land," line 40 ? 26. What picture do you get from lines 33-38? 27. Explain the last two lines of the exercise. 28. Point out the lines that give the finest picture in the above exercise. 29. What contrast do you observe in the pictures pre- sented in lines 33-38, and 39-44? More general questions than these may be asked, pro- vided they are within the student's range of knowledge. Who wrote L' Allegro ? Name the companion poem. What do the two names mean ? Show that the names are descriptive of the poems. Show that the machinery, the scenery, and the tone of the two poems are consonant with the two leading thoughts of the poet. Why does the poet in L' Allegro take morning for the time of the scene? Why in the companion poem night ? How many questions should be asked on a lesson is a matter of judgment. It will be observed that the above is not given as a model for the daily lesson, but as a model of an occasional intensive lesson. In these matters noth- ing can take the place of good sense in the teacher. Note. — Remarking upon the tendency to bury the literary mas- terpieces under wagon-loads of commentary and discussion, Mr. Frederic Harrison exclaims : " Alas ! the Paradise Lost is lost again to us beneath an inundation of graceful academic verse, sugary stanzas of ladylike prettiness, and ceaseless explanations in more or less readable prose of what John Milton meant or did not mean, or what he saw or did not see, who married his great-aunt, 146 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. and why Adam or Satan is like that or unlike the other. We read a perfect library about the Paradise Lost, but the Paradise Lost itself we do not read." — (The Choice of Books, p. 14.) At the same time, Professor Corson, who can hardly find words to express his disapproval of that study of literature which sticks in the bark and multiplies useless questions, still holds that the grammar of a poem is an element in its study. " In Gray's Elegy," he says, " there are several grammatical constructions which need to be particularly looked into." He quotes these stanzas from Tennyson's Palace of Art — " But in dark corners of her palace stood Uncertain shapes ; and unawares On white-eyed phantasms weeping tears of blood, And horrible nightmares, " And hollow shades enclosing hearts of flame And, with dim-greeted foreheads all. On corpses three months old, at noon she came, That stood against the wall " — and remarks that "the adverb 'unawares' in the first of these stanzas qualifies ' came ' in the second, they being separated to the extent of five verses ; ' came ' is the antecedent of the preposition 'on,' immediately following 'unawares.' The relative clause 'that stood against the wall' is separated from its antecedent 'corpses' by the predication 'at noon she came.'" — (Atlantic Monthly, June, 1895, p. 812 ; The Aims of Literary Study, pp. 129-130.) COMMENT ON CHAPTER XV. In addition to the study of this chapter, it will be very helpful to review Arnold Tompkin's discussion of The Great Stone Face, in his Literary Interpretations. When this is done take our Indiana Readers and look for themes and em- bodiments in the following* selections : Third Reader : I Love You, Mother ; The Fable of the Fox and the Crow ; A Story about Wishing ; A Looking- glass Story ; Can You ? The Discontented Buttercup ; Mary and Nelly ; One, Two, Three ; and Who won the Prize ? Fourth Reader : A Noble Prince ; The Day is Done ; The Bugle Song ; Babie Bell ; We are Seven ; and Lucy Gray. Fifth Reader : The Light of Stars ; Ring out, Wild Bells ; Charge of the Light Brigade ; The Farmer and the Fox ; and The Village Preacher. If the analysis of One, Two, Three given in Chapter XIII has been made clear, it is easy to see that in some of these little and more simple selections the same points are found that are so characteristic of great works of literature. The story of the fox and the grapes is several hundred years old; certainly it has lived because people have seen in it far more than the story tells on its face. Even people who believe literature has no message find in the conduct of the fox the image of people who decry what they can not get. We must reach images and circumstances back of the language, and through these find universal traits of character, aspira- tions, and ideals. It is this ability to see meaning back of form that constitutes insight into literary productions. The concrete story of Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo's Les Miser- ables is the account of every individual who tries to put 14Ga TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. down crime and evil tendencies, who attempts to live his better self. As the old hymn puts it, very few people are " carried to the skies on flowery beds of ease." A considera- tion of literature, then, means a careful study of the lan- guage used, of the story given, and of the theme which the story and language try to set forth ; and woven back and forth throughout the whole is the adaptation of the language used and of the story also, to bring out the great truth which we see in it. What children of the intermediate grades may do with this has been indicated in the poem One, Two, Three. Such a reflective study of The Great Stone Face and Vision of Sir Launfal as will carefully set apart and consider the analysis of these elements separately — the language, the em- bodiment, and the theme — can not be done with small chil- dren. But as soon as children enter school they do enjoy selections from many really excellent productions without this attempted analysis. Selections from Hiawatha are a never-failing source of interest, as is shown in their draw- ings of the tent on the shore of Gitche Gumee, the arrow- maker and his daughter, Hiawatha's friends, and his bless- ing the cornfields. There are some parts too difficult, but these can be omitted at this time. Longfellow's Children's Hour and Birds of Killingworth are enjoyed long before children are able to read them themselves. Skilful teachers read such poems as Bryant's To a Waterfowl in the second and third grades. It is hardly necessary to add that the teacher who does this is not the one who gives no thought as to what she shall read until the time has come for the work. These little selections that are to be read ought to be carefully studied over and every point that needs an expla- nation prepared. Wholesome stories from the pen of Miss Alcott and Mrs. Burnett are so full of the best kind of child life that it is a misfortune to grow up without them. Then there is the realm of fairy tale, legend, and myth, which has been referred to before. Hawthorne's version of Pandora's Box, Hercules, and Garden of the Hesperides give the children some notion of what the ancient people 14Gb COMMENT ON CHAPTER XV. believed and their manner of explaining the world ; and as a model of good English, certainly nothing is better than Hawthorne. Much of this work, however, must be done by the teacher's reading to the children, as they will have but few of the selections. Some of these are found in the Reader, and can be treated as regular reading lessons. As a rule, however, they are too difficult for the children of the lower grades to read well enough to enjoy, and the best results are reached by the teacher's reading them to the pupils and by teachers and pupils talking them over together. Dr. Hinsdale refers to the use of lexical questions, gram- mar questions, and questions on historical facts and Nature in connection with the study of literature, and makes the point that these should be studied for the sake of the con- tent. Probably we need to emphasize this thought. Occa- sionally we find a teacher having her pupils make alpha- betical lists of the words used by the author in any certain production. When other productions by the same author are studied lists are continued, and finally the pupil is sup- posed to have some fairly good notion of that author's vocabulary, and will also be able to increase his own by this study. There is no doubt that if a specialist wishes to make a study of the range of authors' vocabularies, he will find this plan helpful; but as far as our common-school work is concerned, sufficient study to show the point aimed at can not be taken for lack of time. The question is, " Which will do the pupil more real good— such a study as here suggested as containing the different words used by an author or a study that will lead the pupil to see more in actual living, the complexity of human eflPort, the triumphs and defeats, and to see the ideal working out of life's prob- lem as presented in literature ? "" It is said a great artist catches his subject at some '* supreme moment " of its exist- ence. Shall we lead the pupil to study a great picture to determine the number of colours and shades of colours the artist used, or shall we try to have him appreciate this " su- preme moment ? " Shall we be content to count the num- berless hazy faces that surround a certain Madonna, or shall 146c TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. we try to determine the meaning of those faces ? Nothing in our common-school literature should be studied except as it helps to the appreciation of the content. Take the first stanza of the lullaby in Tennyson's Princess : Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow. Wind of the western sea ! Over the roUing waters go. Come from the dying moon and blow, Blow him again to me, While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Suppose we notice the length of the vowels. In the first line there are four long and two short ; in the second, four short and one long, unless we count wind long; in the third, four long and one 'short ; in the fourth, four short and one long, the word wind occurring again ; in the fifth, four long (counting waters) and one short {the) ; in the sixth, three long and four short ; in the seventh, three long and two short; in the last, five long and four short. Many of the short-voweled words — as and, of, and the — are not significant words. Nearly all of the significant words have long vowels. But to notice this point and to go no further does not help in an appreciation of the content. We must see that a mother is singing a lullaby to her child, which is going to sleep under the influence of the music. It is even- ing, and out in the distance the mother sees the Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon. The father is probably with those silver sails. This is a low, soft, crooning cradle song, and the music and effect is greatly increased by the use of such a large number of long vowels. Even wind seems much better in this connection with a long i. The recurrence of short vowels in the signifi- cant words would give an abrupt, broken sound, entirely 146d COMMENT ON CHAPTER XV. unsuited to bringing* about the desired result. The length of the vowels goes a long way in producing the effect on the reader which a lullaby should produce. If we should count the long and short vowels to find out how many of each Tennyson used in this selection, or, further, to find which he usually used more often, it would have had no legitimate part in our common-school literature work. But when we not only see the large number of long vowels, but, further, appreciate the entire surroundings — the setting of the picture — we then see how admirably adapted these long vowels are to produce the feeling of rest, quiet, and peace that Tennyson wished to leave. Such a consideration is an important ele- ment in appreciating the beauty of this song. So to talk of the cases of nouns, tenses of verbs, forms of possessive, use of adverbs, and analysis of sentences are only permissible as literature work when each point is made to show some fur- ther element of meaning, to lend charm to the smoothness or music to the rhythm. This point may also be illustrated with paragraphing. In Charles Dickens's Tale of Two Cities, Chaj)ter XIII, the author is showing Charles Darnay during the night when his execution is to take place at three o'clock in the morning. He is very restless, and especially as the clock strikes off the hours of nine, ten, eleven, and twelve. At each hour he counts the strokes, saying : " Nine gone forever, ten gone forever, eleven gone forever, twelve coming on to pass away." At the last stroke the author says, " Twelve gone forever." Dickens puts this last expression into a single paragraph — " Twelve gone forever." This short paragraph seems to be full of the despair of the man. It makes the reader also appreciate the rapidity with which the hours are slipping away from him, the ex- treme shortness of the time the condemned man has yet to live. We might almost say there is not even time for a verb in the sentence. This is a hint of what may very fre- quently be gathered, or rather felt, from an artist's para- graphing ; and to speak of the length of the paragraphs in 146e TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. this chapter, for instance, but to see no more than the length, is to lose the entire force, in a literary sense. As to books for the teacher, nothing is better than our standard poets. Miss Alcott's books, Hawthorne's Wonder Book and Tanglewood Tales, and Cooke's Nature Myths. These cover the ground quite well and are probably most helpful where one can not have access to a complete library. Relation of Literature to Composition Work. A well-conducted study of literature is of invaluable aid in the actual composition work. Paragraphing can be taught in no better way than in connection with master- pieces, as Emerson's essay on Behavior, or some of the speeches of Daniel Webster. Emerson is not always at hand, so I will refer to a lesson in the Indiana Fifth Reader, on page 337, a selection from Webster's speech on the Con- stitution. When this is studied as a reading lesson, let the class find out the point discussed in each paragraph. For instance, the three paragraphs in their order deal with : First : The duty of this generation toward the Constitu- tion. Second : The nature of our constitutional government. Third : In the first part is further considered the subject of the second paragraph, and in the remainder the idea is, the Vastness of our republic. This, then, constitutes an outline of what Webster said, in as far as it is given in this selection. Any selections from Webster will show that each paragraph is usually devoted to the discussion of some one point in the general subject stated. The lessons in the Readers that deal with natural objects can be viewed in the same way. On page 122 of the Third Reader is a little lesson on Silk. There are three paragraphs. The first deals with the life of the caterpillar before it goes into the cocoon ; the second, the manufacture of the silk; the third, countries that produce silk. Emer- son's essays are excellent for study of this kind, although hardly applicable to work lower than the high school. In his essay on Behavior, it is not only easy to state the point 146f COMMENT ON CHAPTER XV. considered in each paragraph, but there is usually a sen- tence that might be called the topic sentence, that gives this point very clearly. Sometimes the topic of the paragraph is even twice stated for the sake of force or clearness. Work of this kind is very helpful as one phase of reading in get- ting the exact thought the author has put into language. After a careful study of a few selections in this way, making outlines of the points discussed through a given selection, there is much less difficulty as to the pupil's own paragraphing. This is a very difficult subject, but if models are studied, and many of the rules omitted, the work is materially simplified for all common-school purposes. This is the experience of teachers doing this work. The pupils' own narration of an incident can be helped by noting in the reading of any story how the author pro- ceeds. Notice the beginning of Ben Hur, Little Women, Uncle Tom's Cabin, and Evangeline. Each first deals with one person or a little group of persons in the simplest sur- roundings. At first it is a simple incident. Later the story divides and one character is followed for a little time ; then the author goes back and brings up another and another through the same period. It is now a very complex affair. It is impossible for language to present more than one line of action at one time, while a painting may show several. But this is one of the limitations of literature, that while many things may happen at once we can only read of one at a time. The movement goes on through these different persons until all the parts begin again to come together, and the story finally ends as it began, a simple incident. In Evangeline, for instance, we see the simple farm and village life of the Acadian peasants. Then follows the burning of the village, the death of Evangeline's father, and the final separation when driven on board the various vessels. Now there are two distinct strands, Evangeline and Gabriel. The author follows Evangeline and only gives us hints of the wanderings, the hunting, and fishing of Gabriel. Finally these separate parts come together in the meeting of these two in the hospital, and the poem ends, as it began, in a U6g TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. simple narration where all in whom the reader is interested are together and immediately before him. The teacher will find it very helpful to take any novel she has read and see if it has first the simple little set of surroundings, then the divergence varying in complexity in different productions, and at last if the story is narrowed until it is again a simple little set of surroundings in which we find the few principal characters. If these threads are carefully followed from the simple through the complex, and back to the simple, the nar- ration in the composition work proper is helped. This move- ment is rarely seen in very short productions, and as most of the selections in our readers are short, it can be studied to best advantage in connection with some longer piece of literature. Some selection that shows this movement clear- ly should be studied in class. In connection with the composition work the description of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, from Victor Hugo, was taken. That was used as an illustration for the sake of the composition work, but just such work could very profitably be done in the literature by showing, in addition, the pe- culiar force of describing an object as Hugo described the Hunchback. All this is a legitimate phase of the study of literature, and the pupil is not to be urged to notice how this author did for the sake of copying him, but notice what he did because it helps in interpreting what he has said. It shows us the working plan, as it were, which guided him in mak- ing an organic and artistic piece of literature.— S. E. T-C. 146h CHAPTEE XVI. THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. Helpful pedagogical discussion of English grammar must take account of the nature of grammar in general. What is grammar ? What is its educational function or value ? Why should English grammar be taught in the schools of the country ? Unfortunately, antiquity gives us little assistance in answering these questions. Dionysius Thrax, an Alexan- drian who taught Greek in Rome in the time of Pompey the Great, and who wrote the first practical Greek gram- mar, and in fact the first practical grammar of any kind, that has come down to us, gave this definition : " Grammar is an experimental knowledge of the usages of language as generally current among poets and prose writers. It is divided into six parts : (1) Trained reading, with due regard to prosody [i. e., aspiration, accentuation, quantity, emphasis, metre, etc.] ; (2) exposition according to poetic figures [literary criticism] ; (3) ready statement of dialectical peculiarities and allusions [philology, geog- raphy, history, mythology] ; (4) discovery of etymologies ; (5) accurate account of analogies [accidence and syntax] ; (6) criticism of poetical productions, which is the no- blest part of the grammatic art [ethics, politics, strategy, etc.]." * * Davidson : Aristotle and Ancient Educational Ideals, p. 214. A translation of the Grammar of Dionysius Thrax, by Thomas 147 148 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. The general definition we might accept, but Thrax's analysis is far too comprehensive ; it includes not merely what we call grammar, but also artistic reading, literary criticism, philology, etc., and the discussion of poetical productions. Still, Thrax was only following the usage current among the Greeks. TpafifmriKT^, as taught by the ypafjifiaTLK6r,ina (i. e., the nominative of nouns, the present indicative of verbs), such as the oblique cases of nouns, the variations of adjectives due to gender and comparison, also the derived adverb (e. g., dtKai&s was a irrua-is of hiKcuos), the other tenses and modes of the verb, including also its interrogative form. The grammarians, following the Stoics, restricted irrwa-is to nouns, and included the nominative under the designation." — (Dr. Murray : A New English Dictionary.) TlTUKris is derived from irlirTO}, ttIttt^iu, to fall, and means, first, a falling or fall, and secondly, a grammatical inflection, as just ex- plained. The Romans translated the word by casus from cado, cadere. Hence our word case. The original idea was that a case was a departure or falling away from some standard or first form. 156 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Greek, or in any language, where the form decides, such a question could not possibly arise. Not only has the authority of the scholastic English grammar been pretty thoroughly broken down, but the teaching of English grammar in the schools has been dis- credited. While it has not been thrown out of the schools generally, it has become less prominent, and the question is often asked why it should be retained at all. Accord- ingly, those who believe in its retention are called upon to bring forth their strong reasons. 1. English grammar puts the pupil in possession of much interesting knowledge pertaining to the vernacular. That would be a mistaken education which, while furnish- ing the mind with a store of facts concerning material things, human life, history, and the like, should wholly neglect the vesture in which these facts are clothed. Grammatical facts are mental facts, and it is certainly as well worth one's while to know that he expresses his thoughts in nouns, verbs, etc., as it is to know the names and properties of strange plants and animals. As Mr. Metcalfe says in the preface to his English Grammar: " In one who claims to be a scholar ignorance of the his- tory and structure of his language is no more excusable than ignorance in any other department of knowledge." 2. Like the other sciences, grammar has disciplinary Value. The study involves a peculiar exercise of the powers of observation — the forms of words, idioms, and sentences, and of the realities that are behind them, distinctions, meanings, and relations. These forms and relations de- velop a kind of sense or perception that external objects do not develop. Secondly, the study involves also a vigor- ous exercise of the logical powers — analysis, abstraction, comparison, inference. Grammar is the application of logic to a large and important class of facts. The powers THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 157 of thought are developed by studying the relations of objects, external and internal. The first rank far below the second in educational value. It is only when we can employ thought upon general relations, which are always abstract, that we begin to unsense or ^Zematerialize the mind, and so introduce it to the sphere of scientific think- ing. The best meter of intellectual power is one's ability to think general thoughts. Nothing is more characteristic of the immature mind than the habit of thingmg — that is, of thinking in the forms of sense-objects or things, con- crete and particular. Power of abstract thought is pro- moted most directly and effectively, as Professor Laurie says, " by formal or abstract studies, such as arithmetic, mathematics, grammar, logic ; and this because the occu- pation of the mind with the abstract is the nearest ap- proach to the occupation of the mind with itself as an organism of thinking." * Grammar is indeed the only metaphysical study that a large majority of people ever pursue ; and if that would be a defective information which ignored the facts of language, a fortiori would that be a defective discipline which omitted its relations. Still another point may be urged. It is sometimes said by those who wish to distinguish English from the highly inflected tongues, that it is a grammarless lan- guage. The fact is rather that its grammar is peculiar and characteristic. In the classical languages, relations are generally expressed by means of forms called " end- ings," the position of words in the sentence having little to do with meanings. No matter in what order we place the words puer^puellam^ amat^ in a sentence, they mean the same thing, and can mean nothing else ; while the corre- sponding English words, to be perfectly clear, must stand * Lectures on Linguistic Method, p. 53. 158 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. in one certain order. The Greek and Latin constructions are, so to speak, framed into one another like pieces of timber in a building, and it is either hard or impossible to mistake the principal relations of tho sentence. But since thought relations in English are so largely dependent upon the position of words and the spirit of the passage, as compared with the more mechanical languages, its gram- mar is peculiarly valuable as a discipline. As one has said, " The grammar of English is a very subtle grammar, and its usages, if difficult to register, demand all the more investigation and study." This pertinent passage is from John Stuart Mill : " Consider for a moment what grammar is. It is the most elementary part of logic. It is the beginning of the analysis of the thinking process. The principles and rules of grammar are the means by which the forms of language are made to correspond with the universal forms of thought. The distinctions between the various parts of speech, between the cases of nouns, the moods and tenses of verbs, the functions of particles, are distinctions in thought, not merely in words. Single nouns and verbs express objects and events, many of which can be cognised by the senses ; but the modes of putting nouns and verbs together express the relations of objects and events, which can be cognised only by the intellect ; and each different mode corresponds to a different relation. The structure of every sentence is a lesson in logic." * It is in the line of discipline that Professor Greene's reasons for " studying grammar, or rather language through the structure of sentences," mainly run, e. g. : " As a sen- tence is the expression of a thought, and as the elements of a sentence are expressions for the elements of thought, * Inaii^rural Address at St. Andrews. THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 159 the pupil who is taught to separate a sentence into its ele- ments is learning to analyze thought, and consequently to think." * 3. Grammar, then, is the logic of speech. The basis of grammatical analysis is logical analysis. Grammar is the form that logic assumes in the interpretation or construction of language, and so is the only strictly logical study with which most persons who attend school ever form a practical acquaintance. It does not deal merely with single words, but also with combinations of words. It hinges upon relations, no matter whether these are expressed by means of inflections or by other devices. In fact, grammar is in some respects a more searching investigation of thought than logic itself, because it em- braces all the modifications of thought expressed in the proposition, while logic embraces only the essential rela- tions. Hence, the relations of grammar to all kinds of hermeneutics, or interpretation, are commonplaces. Me- lanchthon wrote, " Scripture can not be understood theo- logically unless it is understood grammatically." Luther held that true theology was merely an application of gram- mar, and Scaliger maintained that ignorance of grammar was the cause of all religious differences. And so in juris- prudence the legal sense of language is the grammatical sense. Montaigne even expressed the opinion that most of the occasions of disturbance in the world are gram- matical ones. It is not meant, of course, that a great theologian, or a great jurist, is necessarily a great technical grammarian, any more than that he is necessarily a great formal logician ; the meaning is, rather, that such theolo- gian or jurist must needs be a master of those methods or habits of thought which constitute the foundation of * See preface to his English Analysis. 160 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. grammar and logic. Still less is it meant that the study of grammar can take the place of native capacity for in- terpretation ; as well say that a blind man can use a tele- scope to advantage as that logic is a substitute for power to think. 4. In a previous chapter some remarks were made about etymologies and words as sources of history. These topics are phases of historical grammar, which has come to be such an important subject of investigation. The Conference on English, so frequently referred to in these pages, recommends that, in the high school, attention shall be paid to the history and geography of the Eng- lish-speaking people so far as these illustrate the develop- ment of the English language.* Something of this work can be well done if made sufficiently elementary. More- over, it is easy to connect the history of language with history in general, and with historical geography, which draws so largely upon language and is so fruitful of inter- est, f The extent to which the historical and compara- tive study of English can be profitably carried on will turn largely, of course, upon the extent to which the pupil enters into the study of foreign languages. 5. Thus far we have not discovered any direct prac- tical connection between the study of English grammar and the use of the English language. It may be fairly urged, however, that any activity of mind which enli,«ts clear thinking is sure more or less to influence the lan- guage in which the thinking is not only expressed, but in fact carried on. Still more, such effect is likely to be marked when the subject-matter of thought is thought- * Report of Committee of Ten, pp. 91, 92. f See Taylor : Names and Places ; Blackie : Historical Geog-ra- phy ; Hinsdale: How to Study and Teach History, chaps, xiii, xiv. THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 161 processes and their expression. If Dr. Blair is right in saying that learning to compose with accnracy is learning to think with accuracy, and Professor Greene in saying that the pupil who is taught to separate a sentence into its elements is learning to analyze thought, and so to think, — then, conversely, learning to think and to analyze are learning to compose. Professor Laurie declares the prac- tical use of English grammar to be, first, the enabling a pupil the better to grasp the language of literature ; and, secondly, the enabling him better to express his own expe- rience and thoughts, when he has any thoughts to express. He also contends that early " a child should, by the help of numerous examples, be taught to recognise the subject and the predication regarding it — the whole logical sub- ject, that is to say, and the whole predicate — as going to constitute a sentence or proposition. This formal condi- tion of a possible sentence can not only be taught very early, but it is for practical reasons desirable to teach it early. A recognition of this fundamental fact of both grammar and logic is very helpful in enabling children to understand what they read, and to express what they de- sire to express." * This is the first grammatical fact to be taught— that no thought can be expressed unless some- thing is said of something ; nor can this fact be properly- taught without the development of some skill in detect- ing these essential elements, the subject and the predicate of the sentence. 6. The idea that the old grammarians put first has been reserved for the last, viz., the relation of the study of grammar to the student's use of the vernacular. Professor Whitney says that, in connection with special drill looking to accuracy and force in the use of speech, * Lectures on Linguistic Method, p. 56. ie2 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. some of the rudimentary distinctions and rules of gram- mar are conveniently taught. He does not say that con- stant use and practice will make good speakers and writers, but constant use and practice under never-failing watch and correction. The application of direct authority, he says, is the most efficient corrective. Three things are obvious: that watch and correction are essential; that there must be a standard of judgment; and that this standard must at first be furnished by a living agent or other example. What Mr. Spencer says of rhetoric is just as true of grammar : some practical result may be expected from a familiarity with principles ; the endeavour to con- form to laws will tell, though slowly ; and if in no other way, yet as facilitating revision, a knowledge of the thing to be achieved — a clear knowledge of what is accuracy and what is inaccuracy — can not fail to be of service. How much room there is for the exemplification of these ideas in teaching English, a little consideration will show. No matter how good one's opportunities to acquire the vernacular in childhood may be, he is almost certain to form some erroneous habits. These originate partly in imitation and partly in the nature of our language. The idea of regularity seizes the child's mind at an early age. He becomes entangled in the irregular verbs, and in the nouns and pronouns. In households and in primary schools such errors will disappear in great part under the discipline of correction, but not wholly so. Few persons can be found who do not need that discipline of self-criti- cism which accompanies the study of grammar when prop- erly taught. AYhat has just been said is more and more applicable as we descend the scale of intelligence and cul- tivation. A great majority of children who come from homes that are accounted intelligent, and that are really so measured by a practical standard, bring with them THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 163 to school numerous errors of pronunciation, etymology, and syntax, to say nothing of spelling, many of which are downright barbarisms and vulgarisms. To the still lower stratum of cultivation we do not need to go. Now, what can be done for these children? First, those agencies that affect language unconsciously must be stimulated ; interest the child in good conversation, in good public discourse, and in well-written books, thus putting him in the way of sloughing off or growing out of some of his bad habits. Secondly, give him the benefit of the special drill and the never-failing watch and correction of which Professor Whitney speaks. For some years mere authority must prevail, but in time both rule and reason will play their part. Criticism will tend to impair somewhat that spontaneity which is essential to good expression, whether in talking, reading, or writing; but it will not answer to allow bad grammar to run riot in the name of sponta- neity. The critical faculty should be keenly stimulated, involving the two elements of observation and correction. Nor should it be forgotten that the most helpful criticism is self-criticism, although it may not begin there. Something should be said of the correction of false syntax. Language is so largely a matter of imitation that it is folly to set persons who are forming their linguistic habits to correct errors to which they are not exposed. The current mode of teaching orthography is by way of the form-image presented to the eye ; written spelling is the vogue, and it is accounted bad practice to use copy that will serve to print false pictures on the mind. In learning to speak the vernacular, the sound-image is the great agent, and this is subject to the limitation before stated. The application of this principle to false syntax is obvious. No doubt these exercises, when intelligently conducted, tend to make the pupil observant and critical, 164 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. but they may also tend to propagate the very errors that are corrected. As a matter of fact, however, the work is often unintelligible ; the pupil assumes that an example is faulty because it is found in bad company, and then guesses at the correction. Correction of bad syntax and of bad etymology should therefore be limited to errors to which the pupil is addicted or exposed. Real life will furnish the teacher an abundance of the very best material ; book " false syntax," to put it mildly, is of doubtful utility in the case of pupils who are studying grammar for a practical purpose. Such are the reasons that may be assigned for teach- ing grammar in elementary schools. Obviously, the ad- vantages set forth can be attained only when the teacher intelligently answers the questions: When? How much? What method ? Professor Laurie contends that the method of procedure must be real. " To be of any utility, either as a discipline, or as training, or as knowledge, grammar and rhetoric have to be studied through examples. Grammar has to be studied in and through sentences, and to be extracted from sentences by the pupil, if it is to be really taught ; and so also rhetoric has to be studied in and through the masterpieces of literature, and extracted from them, if it is to be really taught. This last sentence, indeed, sums up the true significance of the Eevival of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in the department of education." * Dean Colet, the founder of St. Paul's School, had said the same thing in substance long before. " In the beginning men spake not Latin because such [grammatical] rules were made, but, contrariwise, because men spake such Latin, upon that followed the rules, and * Lectures on Linguistic Method, p. 73. THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 165 were made. That is to say, Latin speech was before the rules, and not the rules before the Latin speech. Where- fore, well- beloved masters and teachers of grammar, after the parts of speech sufficiently known in our schools, read and expound plainly unto your scholars good authors, and show to them [in] every word, and in every sentence, what they shall note and observe, warning them busily to follow and do like both in writing and in speaking ; and be to them your own self also speaking with them the pure Latin very present, and leave the rules ; for reading of good books, diligent information of learned masters, studious advertence and taking heed of learners, hearing eloquent men speak, and finally, busy imitation with tongue and pen, more availeth shortly to get the true elo- quent speech, than all the traditions, rules, and precepts of masters." * A few hints and suggestions as to method will be added. 1. Formal or technical grammar is an abstract, meta- physical study, and the pupil should not enter upon it at too early an age. If he does, the time so spent is wholly or mainly lost, and future interest is impaired or alto- gether killed. Language exercises should form the regu- lar approach to grammar. 2. The two main elemenjbs of the sentence may be taught in the fifth school year. That is, the child should be taught that every sentence has such elements, that they perform such and such functions, that there can be no sentence without them, that they form its framework or skeleton; and in addition he should be taught to point out the subjects and predicates of simple sentences. To centre the young mind on the subject and the predicate * Quoted by Quick : Educational Reformers, pp. 533, 534. p 166 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. as the two things that are essential to the expression of thought, is an important step in education. 3. In the sixth year the larger features of the doctrine of modifiers may be taught and illustrated; also the prin- cipal parts of speech — the noun, the verb, the pronoun, the adjective, and the adverb — and the pupil be required to practise upon suitable examples. No book should be used, nothing need be said about grammar, and the work should be affiliated with the language lessons. 4. Formal grammar with a text-book should begin with the seventh year. Etymology should first be taken up, if the sentence has been previously taught as recom- mended ; if no attention has been given to the sentence, then the work should begin with analysis as before, but should proceed more rapidly. 5. For a time parsing and analysis should conform to definite models. This will secure regularity and thorough treatment. Afterward the two processes may be carried on more rapidly, dwelling only on the more difficult points. When a certain stage has been reached it is sheer waste of time to require a pupil to parse articles, to com- pare adjectives, to decline pronouns, and wearisomely to go through a prescribed formula even in handling the important etymological elements. The same may be said about analysis. Omit the nine questions that all can answer, and ask the tenth one that tests the knowledge of the class. In the high school, especially, a few questions skilfully directed will often lay open the whole structure of a sentence, and thus enable the class to move on. To guard against possible misapprehension, it may be well to say explicitly that parsing has an educational value. Pu- pils should be taught the facts and relations that are ex- pressed by inflections and by position, and the best way to do it is to require them to describe the words, telling THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 167 what thej^ are and naming their properties, for that is what parsing is. Observation and reflection are also cul- tivated. 6. Some pupils tend to think that the world of gram- mar is an unreal world, invented by authors and teachers to confuse and distract them. Hence it is important, as Professor Laurie says, that the method shall be as real as possible. Emphasize the fact that grammar deals with real things and is not artificial. Good grammatical defi- nitions and rules express facts just as much as the defini- tions and rules of mathematics or physics ; and to teach grammar is to teach these facts. Kowhere is it more important than here to prevent the pupil from filliug his mind with mere words. Verbal knowledge about material facts is bad enough ; verbal knowledge about words and sentences is even worse. It is an excellent plan to use the pupil's own original sentences, as it serves to make the work more real. 7. In teaching grammar to elementary pupils no time should be given to controverted points or really difficult points ; the discussion of idiomatic constructions is wholly out of place; instruction should deal only with what is plain and simple, or at least relatively so. In the high school more difficult work may be entered upon ; but even here it will be waste of time to crack the hard gram- matical nuts that so much delight the experts. Such work belongs to a more mature state of mental devel- opment. 8. The first sentences that are chosen for analysis should be isolated as well as easy ones. If not, the pupil is likely to become confused and to miss his way. But in the eighth grade, and still more in the high school, real litera- ture should be used as material. In this way pupils will get a much-needed lesson in the continuity of thought, 168 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. and in that larger grammatical structure which extends beyond the sentence, while grammar will be relieved of something of its barrenness. A connection should be es- tablished between grammar and literature and reading. Some literary questions should be introduced into the ex- ercises and examination papers. Instead of putting down one or two disconnected sentences to be analyzed and parsed, place before the class a paragraph of prose or two or more stanzas of verse. The kind of exercise here recommended will show pupils that analysis is the great instrument of interpretation. One important question is left unanswered, save as the answer is involved in what has been said. This is the question : What should be taught for grammar ? In its details, the subject is much too large for this place. Some examples of grammatical questions that go to the heart of a composition will be found in illustrative exercises at the close of previous chapters. A further exercise is given in this place. Stakzas from Tennyson's Ode on the Death of THE Duke of Wellington. 1. Bury the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall. And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall. 2. Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore ? Here, in streaming London^is central roar. Let the sound of those he wrought for, THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 169 And the feet of those he fought for, Echo round his bones for evermore. 3. Lead out the pageant : sad and slow, As fits an universal woe, Let the long, long procession go, And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, And let the mournful martial music blow ; The last great Englishman is low. The Duke of Wellington is buried in St. Paul's, the Cathedral Church of London. These questions may be asked : — 1. What empire is meant? What is an empire's lamentation ? Explain line 6, stanza 1. Explain " ham- let and hall." AVhy is London called "streaming"? What is meant by the " feet echoing," etc. ? What is a pageant ? 2. Analyze the sentences of stanza 2. 3. Give case and construction of " Great Duke," line 1, " us," line 3, " pall," line 6, stanza 1 ; " whom," " Lon- don's," and " bones," in stanza 2. 4. What parts of speech is " mourning " in lines 4 and 5, first stanza ? 5. Parse " warriors " and " warrior's " in line 6 of same stanza. 6. What modes is " bury " in lines 1 and 3 ? 7. What parts of speech are " sad " and " slow " in line 1, stanza 3 ? 8. Give the principal parts of the verbs in the last stanza ? This exercise is not above the eighth grade, provided the pupils have been properly taught. How many ques- tions shall be asked, and how extended a passage shall 170 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. form the basis of the exercise, are questions of judgment for the teacher to answer, in which the strength of the pupils and the length of time that can be used will be controlling factors. AYhen pupils are ready for such work as this, it is sheer folly to keep them grinding in the old- fashioned mill of analysis and parsing. COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVI. The language work of the grades is not sufRciently re- flective work upon the sentence to be very helpful as a study preparatory to technical grammar. After as much compo- sition writing as the lower and intermediate grades can give, on taking up grammar proper the pupil enters an en- tirely new field. Howard Sandison has given most helpful suggestions for work to meet just this difficulty, and it is from him that the following study of a number of substitu- tions and elementary grammar is drawn. It is almost a misnomer to speak of elementary grammar when grammar is not only a science, but one of the most difficult of the sciences. This work on substitutions is to lead the pupil to examine his own thought carefully and try to express it in different ways ; then to look at these different expressions and see if each expresses the thought he had equally well, and which is the better for rhetorical reasons. " 1. The fundamental ideas of grammar are : "a. Use. "6. Classification based upon use. For example, the word mountain is classed as a noun, by reason of its use in naming an object, but in the phrase, a mountain stream, it is classed as an adjective. The idea of use is the final appeal in all ques- tions in grammar, and proficiency in this sub- ject requires skill in determining the exact use of expressions. 170a TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. " 2. The fundamental idea of composition and rhetoric is appropriateness. Thus, in the sentence, ' The monks yielded to the Pope ; but John, defying the pontiff, drove the monks from the monks' abbeys,' grammar does not question whether it is better to use the word pontiff instead of repeating the word pope; nor does it ask whether one should use the word them instead of the second word monks; neither does grammar inquire as to the comparative merits of the words monks^ and their as limiting the word abbeys. But all these questions must be considered in composi- tion and rhetoric, for they deal with not only the gram- matical expression of thought, but especially with the comparative appropriateneess of different grammatical ex- pressions." This work preliminary to grammar proper should ground the pupil in : 1. The use of expressions. 2. Fulness and vaiHety of expression, as a basis for fu- ture classifications. 3. The power to weigh expressions as to appropriate- ness. In order to reach these results it will be necessary to sub- stitute for each point in language another expression which will preserve the meaning of the sentence. Let us see what this means. Take the sentence, " He was born in England and always praised England.'''' We wish to substitute an- other expression which will preserve the meaning of the sentence. Suppose we substitute the word country. The word country applies to a great many more places than does the word England, yet when used in connection with the word that, as in this sentence, and when it refers to Eng- land, it means the same. The various steps in the work in dealing with the point are : 1. To lead the pupil to see the exact meaning and use of the expression. (The second word England refers to a coun- try — the same one expressed by the first word England. It 170b COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVI. names the tiling he always praised. The work on the mean- ing may be as full as the class needs.) 2. To lead the pupils to make the substitution — "He was born in England and he always praised that coun- try:' 3. To lead the pupils to see the exact meaning and use of the substituted expression. (As used in the sentence with that it means the same. Alone, it refers not only to Eng- land but to all other countries as well. The word that, re- ferring to England, limits the application of the word coun- t7'y to the one nBxaQd— England.) 4. To have the pupils weigh accurately the two expres- sions — England and that country — and determine which is the more appropriate. (The expression that country is bet- ter than England because it avoids the repetition of the word England — it gives variety.) 1. This work should be done first from lists of selected sentences illustrating the point in hand, which the teacher places before the class. The steps should be taken as have been given above. (In beginning each new substitution the teacher should explain clearly how it is to be done.) 2. Then the pupils may select from their text-books ex- amples in which the same substitution may be made, and may make the substitution. Some of the helpful substitutions are : 1. Of a noun for a noun. Young people are rash. Youth is rash. The poet sings of the Rhine because he loves the Rhine. The poet sings of the Rhine because he loves that river. 2. Of a pronoun for a noun. The President sends the Presidenfs message to Con- gress. The President sends his message to Congress. The guard relieved the soldier ; the soldier was sick. The guard relieved the soldier who was sick. 170c TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 3. Noun clause for pronoun. Washington crossed the Delaware, but the British did not know Washington crossed the Dela- ware. Washington crossed the Delaware, but the British did not know it. 4. Passive for active voice. A storm destroyed the fort. The fort was destroyed by a storm. 5. Active voice for the passive. 6. Adverbial phrase for the adverb. It rained incessantly all the week. It rained without cessation all the week. 7. Adverbial clause for the adverb. I am contented here. I am contented where I am. 8. Adjective phrase for adjective. It was a copper plate. It was a plate of copper. 9. Adjective clause for adjective. Turkey has powerful allies. Turkey has allies that are powerful. -10. Noun for noun phrase. In his zeal to he just he forgot to he merciful. In his zealior justice he forgot mercy. 11. Adjective clause for adjective phrase. The crime of Aaron Burr is a part of the nation's history. The crime ivhich Aaron Burr committed is a part of the nation's history. 12. Adverbial clause for adverbial phrase. Corn grows best in low ground. Corn grows best where the ground is low. 13. Noun for a noun clause. That he teas young w^as against him. His youth was against him. 170d COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVI. 14. Adjective for an adjective clause. A man ivlio is diligent will succeed. A diligent man will succeed. There are many other substitutions that may be consid- ered, but those given are among the most helpful. This work should be begun as early as the fifth year and con- tinued until grammar proper is begun. This may take two lessons a week at first and the legitimate composition work the other three periods. At the end it may take three or four periods out of the five. Besides leading directly to grammar, it greatly assists in the composition writing and criticism. The pupils are finding how to secure a variety of expression for the same thought, and are becoming able to judge of the appropriateness of different expressions. Grammar Proper. The main difficulty in the study of grammar in Indiana is that there is too much text-book and too little genuine work upon the sentence itself : it is too much a study of rules and principles discovered and stated by some one else, rather than a discovery of these rules and principles by the pupils themselves. I think this accounts more than • any other one thing for the poor work done in this subject, unless it is beginning the subject too early — before the pupils are mature enough to do such reflective thinking. We are too slavish text- book followers. If the statement is made that adverbs modify verbs, adjectives, participles, or other adverbs, that settles it. We must not forget that if the pupil is to become master of the subject of technical grammar he must do what a student does in any other scien- tific subject : 1. He must make a careful observation of a great num- ber of particular cases, not knowing beforehand just what the result is going to be. He must note the exact use of each adverb as he finds it. 2. He must finally be able to make a statement of the general law or principle independently of any text-book. 170e TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Any point in grammar would answer just as well for illustration, but let us take the one stated on the adverb. The teacher should first put a large number of sentences involving adverbs in their various uses on the board. (I say put them 07i the board because our grammar does not give enough sentences for such work. It would make a grammar far too large to put in it all the sentences neces- sary to work out such a point.) Suppose these are the sen- tences : 1. The monument is very tall. 2. The Yellowstone is a rapidly flowing river. 3. The British were greatly surprised at Trenton. 4. The distance is too great for walking. 5. She was very much gratified at the result. 6. Too much warm winter weather is not good for wheat. 7. He greets me well. 8. Speak your griefs softly. 9. People marvel at Samson's very great strength. 10. They were far more successful than they knew. 11. It was certainly the right thing to do. This list of sentences may be enough for one lesson. The pupils follow the first step, stating in each case what the adverb modifies. The word ve7^y modifies the adjective tall. However, more accurately speaking, the word very expresses an attribute of the attribute expressed by the word tall. The word tall expresses a quality or attribute of the object (not the word) monument. It gives a quality that makes it possible for us to construct a comparatively defi- nite idea of the monument as far as this one thing is con- cerned, for we know the monument is tall. But when the word very is added we find there is a slight change in the notion we have found; we must increase this quality of height. While the exact height is not given, we know it is greater than the average for moimments. So, too, softly modifies the verb speak, as we commonly say, or rather it expresses an attribute or quality of the action of speaking, 170f COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVI. which is also an attribute of something else. Thus, softly expresses an attribute of an attribute. At the close of this lesson the class is able to state that, as far as this partic- ular exercise shows, adverbs modify verbs, adjectives, par- ticiples, and other adverbs. On the day following, there may be another list of sentences treated in the same way. Then may come a lesson on a selection from the Reader, probably, and in this the class will find the adverbs and what they modify. The sentences in the book can also be used. But the statement of the principle found out should not be learned from the book. After the class has done the work suggested, and seen that, as far as they have made in- vestigation, an adverb modifies the words mentioned and no other, then they are ready to examine what the author has said on the same subject. This plan should be followed in every point worked out. If the teacher does not feel sufficiently master of the sub- ject to make a complete outline and to follow that, using the parts of the text-book as they bear upon her work, she can at least do this: Take the subjects in chapter after chapter as they follow each other in the text-book used ; but make out long lists of sentences illustrating each point and work out the point independently of the book, and when the pupils have made the discoveries they may verify them by taking the matter presented in the text. I shall suggest a little outline of the order of taking up the points in grammar that is used by very successful teach- ers of the subject. When any point is studied, however, it is to be taken in the same manner as suggested on the adverb. I. As introductory, a little study of the thought or judg- ment, seeing clearly the three things in it : 1. The object under consideration. 2. What is thought about that object. 3. The mind's act of thinking these two things in rela- tion. nog TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. " Napoleon was a great general." Napoleon is the per- son under consideration ; great general is a certain general notion ; this person and this attribute or quality have been thought together ; thought as belonging together. This act of thinking the two in relation is shown by was. All three elements are absolutely necessary in thought. There can be no judgment if either is omitted. (The work indicated in this paragraph, worked out as suggested, is sufficient mate- rial for a great number of lessons.) II. Study of the sentence : 1. See how each element in the thought has its expres- sion : that there are three elements also in the sentence, although in some cases the copula and predicate may be expressed by the same word. In the sentence, "The horse ran," the word ran expresses the attribute we have in mind, and it also expresses the fact of thinking the idea horse and the attribute of running as belonging together. 2. Analysis of sentences showing these three things : sub- ject, predicate, copula. Dr. Hinsdale's suggestion that in sentence analysis we have the pupils state complete subjects, predicates, and cop- ulas needs our special consideration. Many pupils never become able to point out the entire group of words that stands for the object about which they are thinking. " Na- poleon, who was defeated at Waterloo, was a great general," has the same three elements we found in the sentence '' Napoleon was a great general." The longer sentence shows that the person about whom we are thinking is " Napoleon, who was defeated at Waterloo." There is in this sentence the little descriptive element who was defeated at Water- loo, which was not in the first. But this descriptive part enters into our thought as a phase of the person about whom we were thinking ; it is a part of the subject of our thought, and must be a part of the subject of the sentence. The pu- pil should look first in the analysis of a sentence for the complete subject, complete predicate, and complete copula, 170h COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVI. and he should be able to do this work readily before an analj^sis of these elements is begun. Then follows the analysis of each element into the prin- cipal and modifying parts. The pupil should see the dif- ferent idea of which each expresses an attribute and classify accordingly. Some express attributes of objects, others at- tributes of attributes, and still others attributes of relation. Even modifiers are further analyzed. Some of them are clauses, as who was defeated at Waterloo^ and others are only phrases, having a principal and subordinate parts. Sim- ple, complex, and compound sentences are studied. This is a very important feature of the work, and should be done carefully. Each thing studied is to be made perfectly clear and be defined from the work the pupils do themselves, from sentences given by the teacher and the text-book. When all this is made clear, then comes the study of : 3. The parts of speech. These are to be worked out, de- fined, and classified ; the properties of each and the rules governing the dependence of one upon another determined. This is the last phase in this technical study of grammar, rather than the first. This plan of considering first the sentence as a whole, then in analysis seeing its different elements and the classes of modifiers, and finally taking up the parts of speech, is very clearly set forth in Wisely's New English Grammar. This book also gives a great many sentences illustrating each point. It is based upon the idea that while analysis and synthesis go together, the first act is one of analysis. We see all objects — as people, houses, trees, selections from literature, the verb, holiness, and politics — first as a whole without any definite notion of the particular distinguishing marks. It is only on second thought (as we sometimes say), or a little analysis given the subject, that we distinguish the colour of eyes and hair of a person ; the blossom, fruit, leaf, and bark of the tree ; or see that true literature has an abiding interest to humanity because it expresses the deep- est and truest life of the individual. These ideas are arrived 170i TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. at by looking into the subject— that is, by analyzing it. We do not begin with a great number of isolated ideas and their attempt to build up the subject; we take the subject, and analyze it into its particular ideas. In the study of the parts of speech in our common schools we too often begin with them instead of with the larger whole, the sentence. Then, when we come to the case of the noun, the mode and tense of the verb, the use of the adverb, the pupils get very little indeed from the work, because, beginning at the wrong end, they have not had the view of the judgment in its relation to the sentence, nor of the sentence as a means of expressing thought, that is necessary for the careful analytic work that the study of the parts of speech requires. S. E. T-C. 170j CHAPTER XVII. THE FUNCTION^ OF RHETOEIC. The history of rhetoric shows quite as much con- trariety of view on the part of writers as to the nature and scope of the subject as the history of grammar. A slight resume will answer our purpose. Aristotle, author of the first systematic treatise on the subject that has come down to us, delivers this definition : ^' A faculty of considering all the possible means of per- suasion on every subject."* He first inquires into the means employed in persuasion, and then treats of arrange- ment, style, and delivery. Quintilian, foremost of the Latin writers, considers rhetoric, oratory, and eloquence as the same thing, and gives this definition : " Oratory is the art of speaking well." f Dr- Campbell, like Quintilian, considers rhetoric and eloquence as coextensive. "The word ' eloquence,' in its greatest latitude," he says, " de- notes ' that art or talent by which the discourse is adapted to its end.' " % Dr. Blair's Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles-Lettres, which was once more generally used in English and American schools than any other text-book on its sub- ject, contains no definition. Dr. Whately's Elements of Rhetoric is consistently built up on this definition : * Book I, chap. ii. f Ibid, II, chap. xv. X Philosophy of Rhetoric, Book I, chap. i. Q 171 172 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. ''The findiug of suitable arguments to prove a given point, and the skilful arrangement of them, may be con- sidered as the immediate and proper province of rhetoric, and of that alone." * These definitions are all in terms of art. Still, it would be a great mistake to suppose that the books from which they are taken all conform to that view of the subject. Aristotle's Rhetoric is thoroughly scientific, although not lacking in rules and practical suggestions. Quintilian's Institutes, while not destitute of principles, is rather a book of methods and practical suggestions. " Who is so destitute of common sense," he asks, " as to imagine that the work of building, or weaving, or moulding vessels out of clay is an art, but that oratory, the greatest and noblest of works, has attained such a height of excellence without being an art ? " f Still, it must be said that the question in his mind is not so much a discrimination between art and science as it is between artistic oratory and natural oratory. Quintilian treated the subject so broadly as to become a conspicuous example of those ancient writers who, according to Dr. Whately, " thought it necessary to include, as belonging to the art, everything that could conduce to the attain- ment of the object proposed," and " introduced into their systems treatises on law, morals, politics, etc., on the ground that a knowledge of these subjects was requisite to enable a man to speak well on them ; and even insisted on virtue as an essential qualification of a perfect orator." I Dr. Campbell's title, Philosophy of Rhetoric, suggests a scientific treatise, and such is the character of his very able book. Dr. Blair says if his * Part I, chap. ii. f Book II, chap, xvii, 3. f Elements of Rhetoric, Introduction. THE FUNCTION OF RHETORIC. I73 work has any merit it will consist in an endeavour to sub- stitute the application of the principles of reason and good sense in the place of artificial and scholastic rhet- oric* The same may be said of Dr. Whately's Ele- ments as of Dr. Campbell's Philosophy ; the treatment is scientific. Something of this confusion of thought and practice is no doubt due to the sense of the term " art " bequeathed by antiquity to modern times that has been remarked upon. Still, it would be wrong to suppose that such writers as Campbell and Whately did not see the distinction. The authors of the text-books in current use tend decidedly to follow the old model. One prolific writer defines rhetoric as " the art of efficient communication." " It is the art," he says, " to the principles of which, con- sciously or unconsciously, a good writer or speaker must conform." This definition is found in a book entitled The Principles of Ehetoric. Moreover, the author de- fends his definition by saying that rhetoric " is an art, not a science ; for it neither observes, nor discovers, nor classified ; but it shows how to convey from one mind to another the results of observation, discovery, or classifica- tion ; it uses knowledge, not as knowledge, but as pow- er." t Yes ; but rhetoric does observe, discover, and clas- sify its own processes. Another popular writer gives us the following definition : " Rhetoric, thet-efore, is the art of expressing one's thoughts with skill, of giving to one's composition the qualities that it ought to have in order to accomplish its author's design." I And such is the gen- eral tenor of this class of works. * * Lecture i. t A. S. Hill : The Principles of Rhetoric, Introduction. X (Tonuns: : Outlines of Rhetoric, Introduction. # Dr. D. J. Hill observes that the rhetorical process is complete 174 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Now, with all deference to authority, we may say that there are plainly three points of view from which rhetoric may be considered, as follows : — 1. It is a science : it is occupied with the principles that underlie the expression of thought by means of lan- guage. These principles are laws of the human mind ; they are discovered by psychological analysis of the mind, and are confirmed by the study of literary masterpieces. 2. It is an art in the reflective sense of that term : it lays down the rules, precepts, or methods that govern the expression of thought by means of language. These rules are deduced from the corresponding principles. 3. Rhetoric is also practice or exercise in the expres- sion of thought. Moreover, this is the original significa- tion of the word. Slight examination of the text-books on rhetoric in current use suffices to show that they contain matter which falls under every one of these heads. They are partly sci- entific and partly practical ; they contain some principles or laws, some rules or precepts, some exercises or practical lessons. They are therefore a compound of science and of art under both aspects of art. We come now to the real subject of the present chap- ter. This is the educational worth of rhetoric as taught, or as it should be taught, in schools. As everything that needs to be said of the primal value of exercises in com- only when the ideas of the speaker or writer are " referred to the pre-existing ideas of the person addressed in such a manner that they will affect the desired change." "All mental changes," he says, " take place in accordance with certain laws," and then pro. pounds this definition : " As an art, rhetoric communicates ideas according to these laws ; as a science, it discovers and establishes these laws. Rhetoric is therefore the science of the laws of effective discourse." — (The Science of Rhetoric, Introduction.) THE FUNCTION OF RHETORIC. 175 position has been said already, we may confine our atten- tion to principles and rules, with incidental remarks on the third topic. As mental disciplines the science and the art of rhet- oric have the same kind of value as the other studies belonging to the philosophic group. They stimulate ob- servation and analysis. They deal with the philosophy of effective expression by means of language. They take hold both of thought and of the medium by which it is conveyed. Rhetoric deals with the universal element of expression ; or, as Aristotle says, " It is conversant, not with any one distinct class of subjects, but like logic [is of universal applicability]"; or again, "Its business is not absolute persuasion, but to consider on every subject what means of persuasion are inherent in it." * Hence, psychological elements are involved. It has been contended that rhetoric is a valuable moral discipline. This is a favourite view of Quintilian, who re- turns to it again and again. He insists that virtue is an element of oratory. If it be objected that a vicious man may succeed in an exordium, a statement of facts, or a series of arguments, he replies that so a robber may show the virtue of fortitude and a slave the virtue of endur- ance.f Dr. Whately corrects Quintilian's exaggerated view, saying that building materials are no part of archi- tecture, although it is impossible to build without them, or subject-matter a part of rhetoric because there can be no speech or writing without it ; and " that though virtue and the good reputation it procures add materially to the speaker's influence, they are no more to be, for that rea- son, considered as belonging to the orator as such than wealth, rank, or a good person, which manifestly have a * Book I, chap. ii. f Book 11, chap. ii. 17G TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. tendency to procure the same effect." * The real question lies deeper : it is the relation of aesthetics and ethics, and will be touched in the ensuing paragraph. Rhetoric is a culture study as well as a disciplinary one. It fits the mind for the keener and more rational enjoyment of works of rhetorical art. While the enjoy- ments of taste — the sentiment of the beautiful as an abso- lute quality — is native to the mind, these enjoyments are greatly strengthened and elevated by cultivation. The notion that there is a universal standard of taste is- a part of that sentimental view of human nature which came in with Rousseau. The rustic who said the paint on Rosa Bonheur's Horse Fair could not have cost more than ten francs had not studied aesthetics. On the negative side the argument is equally convincing. Men can not constantly follow their chosen vocations, but must have avocations as well. Answering the question. How shall the vacant spaces in life be tilled up? Dr. Blair says that it can not be done more agreeably in itself, and more con- sistently with the dignity of the human mind, than in the entertainments of taste and the study of literature. " He who is so happy as to have acquired a relish for these has always at hand an innocent and irreproachable amusement for his leisure hours, to save him from the danger of many a pernicious passion. He is not in hazard of being a dan- ger to himself. He is not obliged to fly low company or to court the rest of loose pleasures in order to cure the tediousness of existence." f The tapping of the fountains of the higher enjoyments — the opening up of the nobler tastes — is a godsend to any person, and particularly to any one who tends toward coarse pleasures. It is to be feared that the reasons assigned above for * Introduction. f Lecture L THE FUNCTION OF RHETORIC. 177 the study of rhetoric will not prove very convincing to many minds. At least, we must boldly face the question that the typical American puts to everything, " What is its practical value ? " The question may be subdivided : Is literary and oratorical skill desirable or not ? Does the study of rhetoric conduce to the gaining of such skill, and if so, to what extent ? Fortunately, the second question is the only one that we need to consider. The confidence with which the old writers laid down their rules is well known to all persons who have read their books. Butler's well-known lines — " All a rhetorician's rules Teach him but to name his tools " — express the sceptical view of their value. At the pres- ent time, the opinion of many teachers and critics of education runs in this direction. Let us see if we can discover where the truth lies. The rules of rhetoric are of two kinds, mechanical and psychological. The rules for capitalization plainly belong to the first class. There is a mental convenience, to be sure, in some of them, as the one that requires a sentence to begin with a capital letter ; but this rational element is so slight that we may drop it out of sight al- together. These rules are plainly conventional. Much the same may be said of punctuation. A punctuation scheme is mechanical but extremely convenient. It is, indeed, based on the articulations of thought, and re- quires clear insight, but this does not remove the subject from the mechanical category. Again, the rule that limits the use of words to the idiom of the language is also conventional. If it be said that the use of domestic words rather than foreign ones, or of live words in prefer- ence to dead ones, consults economy of effort, we may reply that the inhibition of slang is often enforced at the 178 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. cost of energy. Purity of diction rests on the conven- tionalities of speech, and can never be absolutely secured in a living language. Now, it must be clear to everybody that some mechan- ical rules are indispensable to correct writing. It is not permitted even to genius to capitalize and punctuate just as it pleases, or not at all. Such rules make up the tech- nique of composition. Still further, powerful as imita- tion is, no one will learn through it the arts of capitaliza- tion and punctuation. There must be rules, practice, and criticism. These rules may be furnished by a teacher rather than a book, but that makes no difference. Neither will imitation be found an effectual safeguard even in respect to purity of diction. Some forbidden words are likely to find their way into the vocabulary of the best- bred boys and girls, while an abundance will flow into tlie vocabulary of the majority. Hence the ques- tion, " How shall the barbarisms, and especially the slang, that infest popular speech be kept out of the written style of schoolboys and schoolgirls ? " I have strongly recommended the constant use of good literature as a catharsis in English. Still, sgmething more is necessary than merely to get pupils as far as possible to read good books and hear good conversations, important as these things are ; there must be, as before, a resort to faithful correction. Experience shows that the pupil is little likely wholly to grow off his more inveterate faults, -and resort must be had to the pruning knife. The psychological elements of rhetoric are facts of the human mind. Such are the rules for propriety and precision of diction ; they directly affect a writer's effi- ciency, for if words are used in strange senses, or if they mean more or less than the writer means, the reader is thrown into confusion. Imitation is the mainstay in secur- . THE FUNCTION OF RHETORIC. 179 ing these qualities, but it alone will not prove effectual. Again, the rules prescribed for the construction of sen- tences are purely psychological. Imitation is here less powerful than in matters that are more mechanical, and more depends upon the writer's creative faculties. It is manifest, for example, that the writer who has had his mind centred on the rule for unity is a much more com- petent critic of his own composition or of the composition of another than the writer who has not had such training ; and that his criticisms, if persisted in, will favourably affect his own style. To be more definite, it will hardly be denied that the student who has grasped the precept that changes of the central subject of thought in a sentence destroy unity is more likely to keep his eye on this quality tlian the student who has not done so. Similar reasoning will hold of all the other essential proprieties of style. Study of the rule will secure a more careful thinking-out of the matter, and so better sentences. In numerous places I have laid stress on freedom and spontaneity in writing. What is here said of rules does not conflict with that doc- trine ; for the beneficial effect of criticism flows into style through unconscious cerebration. It is in this way that a second nature is created. The current text-books give much space to figures of speech, and we may well consider that branch of the sub- ject. However, the only question that we need to answer is,, whether the writer who studies rhetoric will handle his figures better .than the writer who does not. First, it is clear that the definitions of figures express facts of the mind. The mind affirms the likeness and the sameness of things different ; it delights in sharp con- trasts and in brief pointed sayings ; it attributes life to what is dead and brings the absent into its presence ; it uses the name of one thing for another, and also ex- 180 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. changes the whole and the part. Is the careful discrimi- nation of one of these figures from another, as simile from metaphor, or synecdoche from metonomy, of prac- tical utility in the expression of thought? It may be answered that in respect to nothing is the young and am- bitious writer of an active imagination more likely to go astray than in respect to figures. Still further, such a writer can hardly fail to derive advantage from a clearer thinking out of the doctrine of figures and the definitions of the leading figures separately. He may not think "personification" or "metaphor" as he writes, but his thinking will influence his writing nevertheless. Still more may be claimed for the rules relating to figures. The exuberant writer needs the discipline of good criti- cism as well as the influence of good models. And criti- cism always means rules. Eeference may be made to the rules in regard to basing figures on distant resemblances, to putting two or more metaphors in one sentence, and the overcrowding and mixing up of figures in general. Let us take a broader view of the subject. In his well-known essay entitled The Philosophy of Style, Her- bert Spencer finds the causes of force in language in the principle of economy of the mental energies and sensi-. bilities. After quoting some of the familiar adages, as that long sentences fatigue the reader, parentheses and involved constructions should be avoided, and Saxon- English words should be preferred to Latin-English, he thus states the principle that explains them : " On seeking for some clue to the law underlyins: these current maxims, we may see shadowed forth in many of them the importance of economizing the reader's or hearer's attention. To so present ideas that they may be apprehended with the least possible mental effort is the desideratum toward which most of the rules above THE FUNCTION OF RHETORIC. 181 quoted point. When we condemn writing that is wordy, or confused, or intricate — when we praise this style as easy, and blame that as fatiguing — we consciously or un- consciously assume this desideratum as our standard of judgment. Regarding language as an apparatus of sym- bols for the conveyance of thought, we may say that, as in a mechanical apparatus, the more simple and the better arranged its parts, the greater will be the effect produced. In either case, whatever force is absorbed by the machine is deducted from the result. A reader or listener has at each moment but a limited amount of mental power available. To recognise and interpret the symbols pre- sented to him requires part of this power ; to arrange and combine the images suggested requires a further part ; and only that part which remains can be used for real- izing the thought conveyed. Hence, the more time and attention it takes to receive and understand each sentence, the less time and attention can be given to the contained idea, and the less vividly will that idea be conceived." The whole essay is an argument to show that this principle embraces the main elements of style. Whether Mr. Spencer is correct throughout in his contention or not, it is certainly true that the student who first grasps this principle sees the subject of expression in a new light, and is likely also to think his thoughts more clearly and to express them in stronger and more clarified diction. The simple idea that language is a vehicle to be used with largest effect and greatest economy can hardly fail to affect his style beneficially. To the proposition that a clear conception of the principles of expression will tend to improve expression, it is no reply to say that Homer never studied rhetoric, or that Dr. Franklin never went to college. The study of principles makes models effect- ive. On this point Professor Minto may be quoted. 182 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. " I take it that the main use of rhetorical principles ... is to quicken the beginner's natural judgment in his study of examples. He is placed in the midst of a host of writers, good and bad. The most eifective writers nat- urally influence him most. He might learn from them as much as he wants of the art of composition without any guidance. He imitates what he admires, irrespective of all guidance. All of us acquire in this way the greater part of what skill we have. But while every great writer has his own inimitable charm, all effective writing is so in virtue of its compliance with certain general conditions- These general conditions the student may learn inseusibly, but the most rudimentary of them admit of being stated, and the statement may stimulate and guide the student's own powers of observation and execution." * For example, if sophomores in and out of college should lay hold of the rule that Minto thus states — " One object of language, perhaps we should not say the object of language, is the conveyance of ideas or feelings from one mind to another " — how much ambitious writing would be amended ! Or if the whole array of writers who contribute to the current volume of printed matter should closely study Minto's amplification of this rule, how much vagueness, obscurity, and verbosity, with consequent loss of time and mental energy, would be saved ! "It is sometimes said that the object of language is to express thought. This is a misleading description for the student of composition. We want not merely to express, but to impress or communicate, which is not quite the same thing. In using language we have to consider not merely the putting of our thoughts into words, — the utterance or expression of what is in our * Plain Principles of Prose Composition, p. 10. THE FUNCTION OP RHETORIC. 183 minds ; we have to consider also how to get onr thoughts into the minds of others. Utterance might be compara- tively easy, but the utterance must be such as to find an entrance elsewhere. We have not merely to pour the water out of the bottle. If this were all, we might trickle gently or gurgle and splutter convulsively as we pleased, with much the same result. We have to pour out in such a way that every drop may, if possible, be got into another bottle." * To the arguments that have been presented in favour of the study of rhetoric, it may be replied that they as- sume greater persistence in the study and in the effort to improve one's composition than can be safely taken for granted. The good work that is begun in the high school, it may be said, is soon laid aside; and no matter how hard the teacher may have struggled to lift him to a high level of expression, the pupil soon falls back to the wonted level of his mind. The same may be said of many stu- dents who receive the severer discipline of the college. It is impossible to deny force to such a reply. The ease with which persons who have been trained in schools fall into slovenly habits of expression, and particularly of writing, on leaving school, is extremely discouraging, and would be surprising if we did not see so much of it. Still, it is not true that, even in the cases of the majority, the effect of rhetorical training is wholly lost ; while in the cases of a minority it undeniably contributes materially to the formation of good style. Accordingly, I believe in putting rhetoric in the high- school course, say about fifty lessons. It should come in the second half of the course, and, if possible, at the be- ginning of the last year. Put in this place, relative ma- * Plain Principles of Prose Composition, p. 12. 184 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. tnrity of mind is secured, while there is also opportunity for a full year's practice in the light of rhetorical prin- ciples. It should be elementary in character. It should deal with the broader elements of the subject, shunning intricacies and niceties. It should be theoretical, but should be fully illustrated by examples, and be constantly re-enforced by practice in composition. It should sum up or codify the work already done in composition in respect to principles.* The examples that are used, as under the head of purity of style or of figures, should be chosen with particular care. Reference should be had, in choosing them, to the pupil's habits and sur- roundings, keeping an eye on the practical end. The examples should be palpable violations of sound princi- ples, and should not be multiplied to weariness. Many of the text-books now in use are overloaded with " examples " and " exercises " to be corrected, some of which, moreover, are faulty only in the eye of a perverse critical ingenuity. Above all, rhetoric should be taught by a competent teacher. If definitions are merely memorized, and rules handled in a merely mechanical way, little benefit will re- sult ; but if the teacher meets the conditions that have been laid down, the study will be followed by good results along several lines. Students will obtain a broader out- look of the subject of expression. Many will form the habit of studying literature and style more closely. Some will get into the way of analyzing their own thoughts and their own style more thoroughly. Those who go to col- lege will receive needed preparation for college work in the same subject ; and those who do not, as a class, will be the better educated for their pains. * See Report of the Conference on English to the Committee of Ten, p. 91. COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVII. When Dr. Hinsdale says that we want not merely to express thought, but to consider how to get our ideas into the minds of others, he touches the one point that must be understood clearly before there can be any further discus- sion of the application of rhetorical principles to composi- tion. Ehetoric assumes that all writing and speaking are done with some definite purpose. The author sees an effect which he wishes to produce, and everything in his composi- tion must bear toward this end. This effect that he wishes to reach in his readers or hearers may be : . 1. Intellectual. — This is plainly the purpose of a book in geography, physiology, botany, geology — in fact, this is the avowed purpose of most if not all school text-books. It is also true of a great many magazine and newspaper articles and the body of scientific works. They are written for the express purpose of making people see more clearly what the writers believe to be important features of the subject under discussion. 2. Emotional. — Washington Irving, in the conclusion to The Christmas Dinner, says : " What, after all, is the mite of wisdom that I could throw into the mass of knowledge; or how am I sure that my sagest deductions may be safe guides for the opinions of others ? But in writing to amuse, if I fail, the only evil is in my own disappointment. If, however, I can, by lucky 184a TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. chance, in these days of evil, rub out one wrinkle from the brow of care or beguile the heavy heart of one moment of sorrow ; if I can now and then penetrate through the gath- ering film of misanthropy, prompt a benevolent view of human nature, and make my reader more in good humour with his fellow-beings and himself, surely I shall not then have written entirely in vain." In this conclusion, the writer plainly states that in giving this production to the world he wished to appeal to the emotional nature — i. e., the feelings of his readers. He did not hope to give any point of wisdom. Probably most poetry appeals very largely to this side of the individual, whatever else the reader may find in it. This is true of Evangeline, The Vision of Sir Launfal, The Barefoot Boy, Snow Bound, and The Building of the Ship. It is also true of novels. Notice The Marble Faun and The Scarlet Letter by Hawthorne ; Silas Marner by George Eliot ; and Uncle Tom's Cabin by Mrs. Stowe. All of them appeal to particular feelings. No one can read Uncle Tom's Cabin without having the profoundest sym- pathy for those coloured people who were the mere prop- erty of their owners, without feeling that the institution of slavery was fundamentally wrong, without admiring the courage of some of these unfortunate slaves. This book did produce exactly this effect upon its readers when it was first read before the Civil War. But the effect did not end in reaching the feelings of its readers. Many persons who were undecided before were now ready to take up arms in defence of the idea of freedom, which had been stated years before in the Constitution. That is, this book influenced the volitional side of its readers as well as the emotional. 3. Volitional. — The practical world is interested in influ- encing people to do things. Advertisements in newspapers 184b COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVII. and posters on billboards are common illustrations of lan- guage constructed with the express purpose of inducing people to act in a certain way. Patrick Henry's speech that closed with the words "We must fight; I repeat it, sir, we must fight," is a fine illustration of this purpose in oratory. He was appealing to the colonists to take up arms against England. He hoped to reach the will of his hearers. Ministers frequently preach their sermons and lawyers "plead" before juries to try to reach a definite kind of action. The volitional purpose, however, involves both the others, just as an emotional one involves to a certain extent the intellectual. The lawyer before a jury presents clearly the points in his case (intellectual side), but he must do more if he is successful. He must present his case in such a way that he wins the sympathy of the jury to his side. He makes them see the pitiable condition of the family if this husband and father is sentenced to the penitentiary. The children (innocent of all crime) are forced to face the cruel taunts of playmates, etc. These means he uses to influence the jury to render a verdict favourable to his client. As an example of this " kind " or " art " of persuasion (or volitional composition), see Daniel Webster's speech on the conviction of the murderer of White. It is this thought — that all writing is done for a definite end — that explains Herbert Spencer's Essay on Style, to which Dr. Hinsdale refers. His thought is that the writer can better reach this end if he remembers to state his case in such a way that it requires the least possible of the reader's energy for interpretation of the language used, thus having so much more left for actually realizing what the author hoped his reader might realize. Thus, as the R 184c TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. keynote in grammar is use, the keynote in rhetoric is ap- propriateness. Rhetoric asks but one question concerning the paragraphing — but one concerning unity and sequence of points given, but one as to individual words, expressions, and figures used — and that is this : " Is this manner of ex- pression the best possible to produce the effect I wish to produce in my reader ? " In the light of this question there are some general rules that have been found to apply to all composition work. The principal ones I will mention here : 1. Paragraphs. The points must be carefully arranged and grouped into paragraphs so that they will follow each other in proper sequence. 2. Clearness. a. Use exact words. Consult the dictionary and special works for differences in synonyms. Make a study of classes of words that come from the same root, as audire^ to hear : from this are audit, auditor, audience, audible, and auditory ; credere^ to believe : credit, discredit, credence, creditor, credible, and incredible ; grapho, to write : graphic, graphite, graphoscope, graph ophone, photograph, phono- graph, telegraph, mimeograph, hectograph, autograph. b. Position of pronouns. Care must be taken in both the use and position of pronouns. " The farmer went to his neighbour and told him his cattle were in his field." It is not clear to whom the pronouns refer. c. Careful use of who, which, what, and that. d. Position of modifiers. " Harriet was left wholly de- pendent upon her older sister who had married George, for counsel and support.'''' The sentence really means that Harriet was dependent for counsel and support upon her older sister, who had married George. 184d COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVII. 3. Force. a. There must be unity in the paragraphs. b. An insignificant part should be stated neither at the beginning nor at the close of the discussion. c. Care must be taken in the use of adjectives, espe- cially nice, splendid, brilliant, and very, also in the use of the conjunctions and and but. In more than half the cases used by the beginner these conjunctions are unneces- sary. d. There are two important places in a sentence, the be- ginning and the close. A sentence should not end with an insignificant word. e. Brevity is a prime requisite. "The bill was carried unanimously by the vote of all present.^'' Fruitless repeti- tions and circumlocutions are evidences of weakness. 4. Purity of the language used. Avoid slang, obsolete, foreign, and new words. Good writers do not use the abbreviations isn't, doesnH, didn't, ril, he'll, and we'll. Don't (for does not), ain't, sha'n't, and won't are not permissible at all. Omit a in the expressions sorrie sort of a and what sort of a. " He has a sort of fever " — not, "sort of a fever." Do not say those sort of or those sort of things. It should be that sort of thing. Be able to use shall and will, and may and can correctly. 5. Smoothness. Avoid the use of the same word in close relation. Eead the composition aloud and avoid hissing sounds coming together or too frequently. "After the most straightest sect of our religion " is not at all smooth. 6. Figurative language. A figure should be used be- cause it forces itself upon the writer as the best possible expression for the thought. It should not be manufactured 184e TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. on the outside and brought in. Too many figures may be used as weH as too few. 7. In the writing of the composition there are these stages : a. CoHection of material. b. Organization of material. c. Rough draft in which it is helpful to write as rapidly as possible everything that suggests itself as being appli- cable. d. Revision. The careful revision should come when the writer can coolly look at the arrangement of points, at every word, at each figure, and determine if each is the best possible to use under the circumstances. He should write, revise, rewrite, and revise until it is satisfactory. What application can be made of this work to the grades ? Dr. Hinsdale suggests that as far as the scien- tific study is to be done, this is legitimately for the high school. It may be added that experienced teachers find it can be best done through a study of literature rather than through the study of a text-book on the subject of rhetoric. The text-book is a valuable aid, but nothing more. How- ever, as far as the work in the grades is concerned, some definite ideas of arrangement of points, paragraphing, clear- ness, force, purity, smoothness, and figurative language should be given. The pupils in the higher grades should be able to criticise their own compositions in the light of these principles. Frequently the teacher has the pupil hand in his first writing for correction. In most cases it would be more helpful for the pupils and less work for the teacher if the pupil should keep his composition and, on the follow- ing day, make his own corrections in the light of the ideas the teacher has made clear to the class. For instance, the 184f COMMENT ON CHAPTER XVI F. class wrote on Roger Williams. They made their own out- lines and wrote as much as they could think bearing on the subject. During the period of preparation the following day they were asked to go over their work, noticing as nearly as possible all of the following suggestions : 1. State the points made in the biography and why these were selected. Show which you put together in each para- graph. 2. Justify the order in which you treated them and the relative amount of space given each. 3. Justify your paragraphing according to the idea that each paragraph should treat some distinct topic. If you have not followed this, state your reason for not doing so. 4. Does each sentence used bear upon the subject chosen ? Does any sentence add so little to the thought that it might as well be omitted ? 5. Notice your use of the conjunctions and and hut. Are they necessary in each case ? 6. See with what words you have ended your sentences. Remembering that for force a sentence should not end with an insignificant word, do any of your sentences need changing ? After this work in class the pupils rewrote the papers before they were given to the teacher. They were then cor- rected by her and returned to the class for further revision. It may be added that very few ordinary writers are able to make the first draft at all satisfactory. Many points are afterward suggested, words and expressions are changed, and entire sentences are omitted as not bearing closely enough upon the subject. This the writer himself sees on revision. Too frequently the first draft is given to the teacher, when, if the class were given some idea as to particular character- 184g TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. istics which may be good or poor, they themselves could do more in this matter of revision. Besides, this habit of look- ing* at their own productions as a critic is what they should be able to do, and the composition work should give this abil- ity. Elementary ideas of arrangement of matter, clearness, force, smoothness, and purity can be given as low as the fourth and fifth grades, and be gradually extended and fre- quently reviewed throughout the common-school course. But that it may be done well, the teacher must have a suffi- ciently broad grasp of theoretical rhetoric, be able to see its application in literature, and to use the principles in her own practical work. — S. E. T-C. 184h CHAPTER XVIII. THE fu:n^ctiok of criticism. In preceding chapters various observations have been made concerning the function and method of criticism in teaching the language-arts. It is deemed necessary, how- ever, to give the subject the advantage of a formal chapter. Criticism as here used is not another name for the science of {esthetics, which is the sense that Lord Karnes puts upon the word in his well-known work,* but is the name of an art. Of practical pedagogical questions, few are harder to answer than the one that the term used in this connection suggests. The heading does not imply that what is true of any one of the language-arts is tru^ of all of them, bnt only that so much is true of all of them that they may be advantageously brought under one gen- eral view. First, we must grasp the facts out of which the difficulty referred to arises. 1, All good expression with voice or pen is free and spontaneous. The good talker, the good reader, the good writer is untrammelled. This state of freedom relates as well to the language in which the thought is clothed as to the thought itself. Just as far as any cause interrupts this freedom, it interferes with one of the essential condi- tions of good thinking and of good expression. Every * Elements of Criticism, 185 186 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-AKTS. disturbing influence involves the loss to the work, imme- diately in hand of whatever mental power it itself absorbs. This, as Mr. Spencer has explained in the passage quoted in the last chapter, is why language as a conscious art gets in the way of both expressing and receiving thought. Manifestly, language is like any other vehicle — whatever power is required to keep the wheels turning is subtracted from the elBaciency of the machine. It is therefore a plain case of reducing friction to a minimum. What has now been said is in full consonance with the sound theory of acquiring the language-arts. The word " expression " may imply a forcing or squeezing out of what is expressed, as in a winepress ; but in speech or composition it is not so. A good speech or composition is never really made ; it is not the product of a force that works from without ; it does not come from the external application of methods and rules; it is rather the product of a force that works from within, or, better still, it is a growth from some root of knowledge or feeling in the mind itself. Without this inward creative force, which is far superior to conscious rules, no really good work can be done. Criticism has its place; but we never think of Shakespeare as building up his plays by foot-rule and plumb-bob. On this point nothing can be better than the following sentences from Professor W. C. Wilkinson : " Stimulus, more than criticism, is what the forming lit- erary mind requires. Vigorous growth can better be trusted than the most laborious pruning knife, to give symmetry of form. Besides, only vigorous growth re- sponds to the pruning knife with desirable results."* Still another writer has said : " When Mozart was asked how he set to work to com- * Quoted by Genung : The Study of Rhetoric. THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM. 187 pose a symphony he replied, ' If you once thinJc how you are to do it, you will never write anything worth hearing ; I write because I can not help it.' Jean Paul remarks of the poet's work : ' The character must appear living before you, and you must hear it, not merely see it; it must, as takes place in dreams, dictate to you, not you to it. A poet who must reflect whether, in a given case, he will make his character say Yes, or No, to the devil with him ! ' An author may be as much astonished at the brilliancy of his unwilled inspirations as his most partial reader. ' That's splendid ! ' exclaimed Thackeray, as he struck the table in admiring surprise at the utterance of one of his characters in the story he was writing." * 2. When children come to school, they have in most cases already contracted faults of expression — faults of articulation, pronunciation, grammar, and style. Few indeed are the children who are free from all these blem- ishes. Imitation is not a selective art, but it catches with great impartiality whatever comes within the sweep of its net. Furthermore, the child is reasonably certain to con- tract new faults if allowed to go on his own way. No amount of care on the part of parent or teacher can keep him wholly from bad models. Plainly, it would not answer to allow him to go on his way alone, even if that were possible. But it is not possible ; the pupil must have positive direction, and it is not improbable that this will sometimes be wrong, and that his teachers will set him some bad examples. In these circumstances originates the necessity of criticism — what Professor Whitney calls " constant use and practice under never-failing watch and correction." * Dr. E. L. Youmans : The Culture Demanded by Modern Life, pp. 382, 383. 188 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 3. But the moment that any person who is engaged in expression begins to feel the "watch and correction" his mind is thrown into a self-conscious and abnormal state. He ceases to be wholly creative and becomes partly critical. His mind is divided, or '' distracted." Moreover, rules at once become disturbing elements. For a talker, reader, or writer to give conscious attention to his errors, or con- sciously to apply the rules of reading, grammar, spelling, or rhetoric, is to sacrifice to an equal degree his immediate end. One of two things will happen : he will gain in cor- rectness and lose in force, or he will lose in both correct- ness and force. Such is the problem that the teacher of English has to confront. What is to be done ? One thing is clear. Because correction interferes with freedom we can not therefore set it aside, or unduly restrict its province. We can not consent to errors and vulgarisms because they are " spontaneous." We must discover some Way of harmonizing the two factors, free- dom and criticism. The question is one that confronts the teacher of any art. It is the imposition of restraint upon creative force — the adjustment of principles and rules to practice. It involves the practical relation of knowing and doing. It is an end that must be reached, as Eadestock says, " by the aid of one of Education's trusty servants — the formation of habit, which changes func- tions, of whatever kind, originally performed but slowly and with effort, into rapid and skilful actions, performed with dexterity and ease ; it makes study easier, and finally builds the bridge uniting theory with practice by changing dead knowledge into a living power." * How shall we build this bridge ? At this point the language- * Habit, p. 4. THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM. 189 arts offer greater difficulties than some others. A ma- jority of people are peculiarly sensitive to criticism of their language, perhaps because language is a high test of cultivation. Fortunately, however, young children are less sensitive than older children or adults ; indeed, if children are properly handled from the beginning, much of this timidity and shrinking may be avoided. But to return to our question. What is to be done ? How shall we build the bridge uniting theory and prac- tice ? While the following practical suggestions may not include the whole ground, they will nevertheless cover a considerable portion of it : — 1. In early years correction must rest directly upon authority ; the parent or teacher must be the standard of correctness and taste. What is wanted is practice, and rules and reasons would be out of place. In respect to pronunciation, the pupil does not resort to the dictionary, or, if he does, he can not apply the key of sounds. The long, the short, and the obscure sounds of a, for example, can mean nothing to him until he has learned them by practice. 2. Correction to be effective must be repeated over and over again. It is the constant dropping that wears away the stone. Many are the strokes required to build the bridge. Hence, when the faults of children are nu- merous, they should not be attacked all at once, but in successive order. 3. The faults under correction at any time, both in respect to kind and number, should be chosen with refer- ence to the child's age and mental progress. Faults of pronunciation and of grammar should be taken in hand as soon as the child begins to commit them ; but faults of rhetoric, as of construction, and particularly of a refined character, should be left until a later time. For the 190 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. teacher to attack errors before the pupil is ripe for the attack, is most wearisome and disheartening alike to pupil and teacher. If needed stimulus is furnished, and good models are kept constantly in view, the pupil will in time gi^ow off not a few excrescences that the teacher will, at an earlier date, fail to cut away with his pruning knife. Here as elsewhere no little labour is lost because it is done out of due time. 4. The teacher must not expect too much either at the end of the course or at any stage in its progress. This is indeed but a phase of the point last made, but it deserves special emphasis. College students going as teachers into high schools are not unlikely to be exacting. It must be remembered that some persons will never be- come good writers. To write well calls for creative power and literary taste, while many persons have been denied these gifts. Only a minority of the children in school will ever become masters of anything deserving to be called a literary style ; and we must be content to see the majority reach, as the result of drill and practice, a formal correctness and propriety. Much the same is true of reading. The ready intuition, the rapid grasp of ideas, the light of imagination, the quick feeling, the flexible and well-modulated voice, which are essential to good reading, are gifts of a high order and are somewhat rare. No doubt practice can do much to develop these qualities, but it can not create them. 5. As the pupil mounts to the upper grades, he should be gradually introduced to rules and reasons. The per- sonal authority of the teacher must slowly retire into the background. In other words, the art of criticism, which at first should not extend beyond " This is right " and "That is wrong," must be slowly turned toward the science of criticism. In this respect the language-arts are THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM. 191 not all alike. Pronunciation and grammar rest on usage or convention ; so do the meanings of words ; and so also do some features of rhetoric, as capitalization and punctua- tion, but the rules relating to clearness, energy, emphasis, and harmony of style are direct outgrowths of psycho- logical facts. The laws of effective speech or writing are laws of the human mind ; and it is idle to present them until they can be understood. 6. It is all-important that the teacher should correct the pupil's exercises, both oral and written, in a good spirit. Due pains must be taken not to put the pupil to shame, lest otherwise reactionary tendencies set in at once.* It must never be forgotten that while criticism looks to purely intellectual ends, these ends lie proximate to the pupil's sensibility. The channels of the young mind will not flow with clear and bright ideas if they are running turbid or violent with feelings that the teacher has excited by unnecessary or unkind criticism. In no other school exercise is it so necessary that the pupil shall be self-pos- sessed as in composition, oral or written. No wheels are sooner blocked than the wheels of expression. As the pupil grows in years and in self-mastery, he can be, and he should be, treated with more severity, particularly if * " Originality is a shy flower, and will unfold only in a conge- nial atmosphere. One may as well grasp a sea-anemone and expect it to show its beauty, as ask a child to write from his own expe- rience when he expects every sentence to be dislocated in order to be improved. The sentences need improvement, no doubt, but that improvement will come under the influence of good models and quiet suggestions. The teacher of composition should never forget that ' the life is more than meat and the body than raiment ' ; that the spirit and thought of any exercise are more than the technical dress, and that if the former are developed, the latter will not be wanting." — (Miss H. L. Keelcr : Preface to Studies in English Com- position.) 102 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE- ARTS. careless ; but the wind must be tempered to the shorn lamb. Still, as said before, much depends upon the regi- men under which the child has been brought up. If he has been trained to express his ideas in writing from the beginning of his school life, and has been accustomed to well-tempered correction, the normal child will show little of that hesitation and fear which are so characteristic of youth who are required to prepare essays without having received the needed preparation, and he will consider the correction of his language exercises as much a matter of course as the correction of his arithmetic or grammar ex- ercises. Besides, there should be commendation as well as blame. In the sage words of Quintilian : " In amending what requires correction, let him [the teacher] not be harsh, and least of all not reproachful ; for that very circumstance, that some tutors blame as if they hated, deters many young men from their proposed course of study." * 7. To make possible that freedom which is so essential to the best work, many of the pupil's exercises, after he has made a fair start at least, should pass without any review or criticism other than his own. Criticism may be over- done. " It is a capital mistake," says Professor Wilkinson, " for boards of college oversight to suppose that they have done the best for the literary education of young men when they have provided them with an instructor who is willing to go through unlimited drudgery in the way of minute rudimentary criticism of their essays with the pencil or the pen." It must be remembered particularly that a degree of exuberance is natural to pupils who have reached a certain stage of advancement. In discussing this subject, too, Quintilian shows his usual good sense. * Institutes of Oratory, ii 2, 7. THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM. 193 "The remedy for exuberance is easy," he says; "bar- renness is incurable by any labour." 8. The pupil must be taught to play the critic himself — that is, to observe and correct mistakes of speech and composition. Such a habit naturally begins with the er- rors of others, but its proper end is self-criticism. The teacher can render, the better pupils particularly, no greater service than to start them well on this road. It must be remembered that the end of criticism, as we deal with it, is wholly practical. It aims to correct faults and to develop excellences, and if it fails here it fails wholly. No doubt the science of criticism has dis- ciplinary value, but this value is no reason why it should be brought into the elementary school or the high school. But criticism to be practical must be remembered, and be applied in the preparation of new exercises. Obviously, forgotten criticism is useless. Furthermore, the applica- tion of critical tests or rules involves some impairment of unconscious freedom, some growth of linguistic self-con- sciousness. But there is no helping it. Some disturbance from this source is inevitable. Two points, however, should be well guarded. One is to reduce the disturb- ance to a minimum in the first place, and the second to eliminate it as rapidly as possible. Comparative immu- nity- from this disturbance is enjoyed by those persons who become so familiar with the critic that he loses his terrors in their eyes. If errors are duly corrected ; if at the proper time rules are steadily borne in upon the mind ; if the habit of self- criticism is created ; if the pupil consorts with good mod- els — the bridge uniting theory and practice will be built, slowly indeed but well. Step by step corrections and rules will fall out of the conscious mind, because they are being transformed into habit, and self-criticism will become 194 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. mainly a matter of revision, after the first glow of speech or composition is over. The pupil who perversely puts his apostrophe on the wrong side of his s, and uses the objective form of the pronoun in room of the nomi- native form, will come to speak or write as he should do without once thinking of his former errors. He will develop a second nature that is stronger than first nature. Because speaking and writing under restraint are hard and painful, we should not resort to license ; the difficulty and pain will vanish as restraint passes into habit. Those persons, if any, who never need to create a second linguistic nature may be congratulated on their happy escape. But in the majority of cases the teacher must bend every effort to the end of transmuting knowledge into power. In so far as the art of composition is self-conscious, it is not un- like the art of penmanship. Here the aim is to produce with ease and skill certain conventional characters. The movements and strokes are at first awkward and painful ; but as they become correct and automatic they also be- come easy and pleasant. Theory passes into practice. This transition is the most important one ever made in educa- tion, and particularly in morals : the transition from knowledge to power. Something should be said of the " Nature " rules that are laid down in every book that deals with the language- arts. No exhortations are more common than these : " Speak according to Nature," " Read naturally," " Follow Nature in writing." These precepts, however, are but special applications of a general law that is thus formu- lated : " We must proceed in accordance with Nature." But what is the Nature that we are so earnestly com- manded to follow ? Perhaps Aristotle was the first writer whose books THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM. I95 have come down to us that undertook to define the term.* From the day that he gave his definitions, the part that Nature plays in education has been more or less recog- nised, and especially since Rousseau wrote his epoch-mak- ing book. Much that has been written upon the subject, not to say most, has been extremely vague and mislead- ing. A discriminating writer has said that "probably nine tenths of the popular sophistries on the subject of education would be cleared away by clarifying the word ' Nature. ' " f Now the precept to " follow Nature " can not mean that education in talking, reading, and writing shall be without direction of any kind. Such a canon would ex- clude reading and writing altogether, and also speaking according to a cultivated standard, because these are all arts. This can not therefore be what is meant by speak- ing, reading, and writing " naturally." Nor, secondly, can the precept mean that the child shall be taught the lan- guage-arts, but shall be left without guidance or direc- tion. That would be absurd, since there is no telling what pranks " Nature," left to herself, would play, and since, strictly speaking, the requirement would involve a contradiction. Hence we are again thrown back upon the question, What is the Nature that is set up as a cri- terion to be followed ? Professor Davidson, in his admirable chapter on Na- ture and Education, tells us that, applied to living things, the term " Nature " is used in two distinct senses, which " are often confounded," to the great detriment of educa- tional theory and practice. " In one sense it is the charac- ter or type with which a thing starts on a separate career, * The Metaphysics, Book IV, chap. iv. t S. R. Sill : The Atlantic Monthly, February, 1883, p. 178. 196 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. and which, without any effort on the part of that thing, but solely with the aid of natural forces, determines that career." The acorn, the bean, the chick, the whelp, and the cub are given as examples. " In the other sense, ' Na- ture ' means that highest possible reality which a living thing, through a series of voluntary acts originating within or without it, may be made to attain." * These he calls the " original " and the " ideal " senses of the word. Ob- viously, it is in the second of the two senses that the term is used, or should be used, in dealing with rational edu- cation. The latest translator of the Emile, subjecting the " Nature " of that book to analysis, finds that it contains the three elements of simplicity, reality, and personal ex- perience. " Simplify your methods as much as possible ; distrust the artificial aids that complicate the process of teaching ; bring your pupil face to face with reality ; con- nect symbol with substance ; make learning, so far as pos- sible, a process of personal discovery ; depend as little as possible on mere authority. This is my interpretation of Rousseau's precept, ' Follow Nature.' " f Nothing more definite than this, I conceive, can be extracted from the Nature doctrine in education. While this is much — very much — it still leaves the teacher who is seeking for prac- tical guidance at a loss as to details. About all, therefore, that the " Nature " rules in the language-arts can mean is this : The teacher and the pupil alike should study closely the composition to be read, and the subject to be handled in speech or essay ; they should attend to the character of the thought and feeling, respect the proprieties of time and place, and inquire what is " natural," all of which is * Education of the Greek People, chap. i. f Dr. W. H. Payne : Introduction. THE FUNCTION OF CRITICISM. I97 but another name for the exercise of good sense. The teacher should regard the general facts of the mind and the individuality of the pupil ; she should, as Matthew- Arnold might have said, " let her intelligence play freely upon the facts involved in each case." The "Nature" rules assume that there is some common standard of ex- cellence, some general ideas or usages in relation to what is good and what is bad ; and this assumption we may safely accept. To accept it, however, does not imply that this standard is to be ascertained by consulting each indi- vidual man, or by throwing the question open to a popu- lar vote ; it is, rather, the opinion and the usage of those most competent to extract from the facts their deepest meaning. Upon the whole, it must, therefore, be said that the " Nature " rules are rather vague and indefinite for prac- tical guidance in the schoolroom ; that they are, however, the only final and authoritative rules that can be given ; and that the teacher must, at least within limits, extract them from the composition, the subject, the child, and the occasion, as they present themselves. Such a quest, if successful, can not be separated from good models. The teacher who makes it will soon discover that uni- formity must be shunned and diversity be cultivated. The motto " The style is the man " expresses a profound truth which lies at the basis of the " Nature " rules. This is the reason why, to refer to a well-known passage in Mr. Spencer's Essay, Johnson is pompous and Goldsmith sim- ple, one author abrupt, another rhythmical, and a third concise. This is the reason why the perfect writer writes like Junius when in the Junius frame of mind, like Lamb when he feels as Lamb felt, and like Carlyle when in the Carlylean mood. 198 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. In the preceding pages I have emphasized the key words to the language-arts, viz., imitation and practice, models and correction. The teacher's practical problem is to correlate the two main ideas that these words express. While the boy who hears good English spoken and read, and reads good books, will far distance the boy who does not hear such English and read such books, it must not be supposed that he will proceed on this pleasant path until he wakes up some fine morning to find himself a good speaker or a good writer. Nor must it be supposed, on the other hand, that the boy of practice and correction will attain that end if models and imitation are wanting. Both elements are called for ; but models and imitation oome first, and they are of the greater value. CHAPTER XIX. TEACHERS OF THE LAKGUAGE-ARTS. It is stated in the first chapter of this work that to teach English successfully requires a combination of cul- tivation, taste, judgment, and practical skill not found in the common teacher. The unsatisfactory character of English instruction in the schools is also ascribed, in part, to the incompetency of teachers. Still further, casual ref- erences to the teacher question are found scattered through the book. A dealing with the topic still more direct and definite is, however, called for, and I may fitly bring my task to a close with a brief chapter on the qualifications of teachers of the language-arts. The remarks made hitherto have had principal refer- ence to teachers in the more advanced stages of the work. In the case of primary teachers, at least those found in the first grades, qualifications to teach these arts are the principal things to be looked at, pedagogically speaking, in selecting them. So very important at this stage of progress is instruction in oral speech, in language lessons, and in the art of reading ! The qualifications required are clear perception of the elements of the arts, their rela- tions to real knowledge, and skill in bringing these ele- ments into connection with young minds. In the more advanced grades, and in the high school, the range of in- struction that the teacher is called upon to furnish is much wider than in the lower grades, and the language- 199 200 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. arts are relatively much less important; still, owing to the wider and higher character of the work to be done in these arts, far higher attainments in the teacher are neces- sary. The idea has seized the minds of some school super- intendents and board members, that almost anybody " will do " to teach English to children. The fact is just the contrary. The teaching of literature in particular can not be subjected to the processes that are so successful in science, mathematics, and the classics and modern lan- guages. In no other high-school chair, perhaps, can an incompetent teacher, and particularly one possessed by notions and hobbies, do so much harm as in the chair of English literature. Some remarks have already been made on special teachers of English in connection with the subject of con- centration. Returning to that question, I avow the opinion that in the early grades such a teacher would be most un- desirable, and that the departmental method of teaching in elementary schools is based on false principles. The child's mind is one, and, for the most part, his lessons should be taught by one teacher. To cut up his mind into fragments and piece them out to a group of teachers who are likely to know little of what they are severally doing, who are certain not to know fully, and who become competitors for the child's time and mental energy, is most mischievous. In high schools, and especially in the first year, specialization is sometimes carried to a harmful extent. Still, the time will come when a special teacher of English should be employed. On this point the recom- mendation of the Conference on English made to the Committee of Ten may be quoted with approval, the only doubtful point being whether the time set for the advent of the special teacher is not too early. " In the opinion of the Conference, it is expedient that TEACHERS OF THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 201 the English work during the last two years of the gram- mar-school course (including formal grammar, reading, and composition) should be in the hands of a special teacher or teachers. But the appointment of such teacher or teachers should not be held to exclude the instructors in other subjects from the oversight of the English of their pupils. It is only by cordial co-operation in all de- partments that satisfactory results in tliis direction can be obtained. To the lack of such joint effort the present unsatisfactory condition of English study in the high schools and colleges may be in great part ascribed." * What is here said about co-operation among all the teachers of the school, in order to secure intensive work, and about the special teacher as well, can not be too strongly insisted upon. But there is a more important question than this one. It is far more important to have special exercises in Eng- lish than it is to have a special teacher. The doctrine of concentration has limits that can not be passed. Lessons in geography or arithmetic, and still more lessons in his- tory, may be made lessons in English, in reading, even in composition, with good results ; but such lessons can not be made to answer the purpose of prescribed lessons in those subjects. No school exercise is useful in an emi- nent degree in more than one direction at the same time. Probably the geographical readers, the historical readers, the physiological readers, etc., that have appeared within the last few years answer a certain purpose, but it is easy to overestimate their value. Physiology, geography, and history can not be taught successfully by means of general reading exercises, nor can reading as an art be taught properly by means of such books. There must be specific * Report of the Committee of Ten, p. 90. 202 TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. books and exercises for each of these purposes. Two studies, and much less a larger number, can not be merged into one study. Hence the readers just referred to can, at best, be nothing more in their several subjects than supplemental reading books. Still more, even if there were no psychological objection to turning the Eng- lish over to the teachers of the school collectively, to one as much as to another, it would be impossible to find teachers in sufficient numbers competent to do the work. Again, if the English be distributed, assigning reading to one teacher, composition to another, and literature to a third, all three should be carefully selected. But the teacher of literature should be chosen with peculiar care. To aptness to teach and sufficient breadth of reading should be added literary taste and appreciation, insight or penetration, soundness of judgment, correct ideals, and a good reading voice. Like other studies, literature can be understood only through the apperceiving process ; more- over, since literature is a transcript of mental life — an ex- pression of thought and feeling — the facts, ideas, and images that are essential to its interpretation, on the part of both pupil and teacher, must come from the same source. This is reason enough why the teacher should be a person who has had some experience of life and has ac- cumulated some store of thought. In a word, no person can succeed in teaching this subject who has not some real cultivation. Here, if anywhere, the old Jewish maxim must hold : " He who learns of a young master is like a man who eats sour grapes, and drinks wine fresh from the press ; but he who has a master of mature years is like a man who eats ripe and delicious grapes, and drinks old BIBLIOGRAPHY. The bibliography of the subjects treated in this work is already very extensive, and is rapidly increasing. The text- writers on pedagogy, at least on the practical side, all deal with teaching reading, language lessons, composition, and grammar ; and some of them with teaching rhetoric and English literature. As a group, no subjects are more frequently dealt with in the proceedings of teachers' asso- ciations, or are more frequently handled by writers in the educational press. Numerous articles on these subjects also find their way into the magazines. The titles of the works that have been freely consulted in the preparation of this book are given in footnotes. The principal of these titles and a few others are given below, with accompanying remarks : Collins, John Churton : The Study of English Literature. A plea for its recognition and organization at the uni- versities. Macmillan & Co., London and New York, pp. 160. While this book relates to college or university study, it may be read with much advantage by educated teachers in the secondary schools. Corson, Professor Hiram : Vocal Culture in its Eelation to Literary Culture (The Atlantic Monthly, June, 1895, p. 810). The Aims of Literary Study. Macmillan & Co., New York, pp. 153. Both admirable. DowDEN, Professor Edward : The Teaching of English Literature (New Studies in Literature, p. 419). London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Triibner & Co. 203 204 BIBLIOGRAPHY. Fletcher, J. B., and Carpenter, E. R. : Introduction to Theme Writing. Allyn & Bacon, pp. 133. For college work, but may be used with profit by educated teachers in secondary schools. Genung, Professor John F. : The Study of Rhetoric. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston, pp. 32. Hall, Dr. Gr. Stanley : How to Teach Reading. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston, pp. 40. Contains good hints for teachers. Harris, Dr. W. T. : On the Correlation of Studies in Ele- mentary Education. Part Third of the Report of the Committee of Fifteen, pp. 230. Contains excellent dis- cussion of the educational values of the language-arts. Hudson, Rev. H. N. : Preface to Hamlet, English in Schools (The Merchant of Venice), and How to use Shakespeare in Schools (As You Like It). These references are to the author's Shakespeare for Use in Schools and Families. HUFFCUT, E. W. : English in the Preparatory Schools. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston, pp. 25. A useful monograph. Laurie, Professor, S. S. : Lectures on Language and Lin- guistic Method in the School. Second edition revised. Edinburgh, James Thin ; London, Simpkin & Marshall, pp. 197. The best book on the subject known to me. Lowell, James Russell: Books and Libraries (Literary and Political Addresses). One of the author's best es- says. MiNTO, Professor William : Plain Principles of Prose Com- position. William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London, pp. 85. Thoroughly sensible and practical. MoRLEY, John : On the Study of Literature. A university- extension address delivered at the Mansion House, London, 1887. Macmillan & Co., London, pp. 53. Re- published in Aspects of Modern Study, London, Mac- millan & Co. Newcomer, A. G. : A Practical Course in English Compo- sition. Ginn & Co., Boston, pp. 250. This book is just what its title calls it. Phillips, J. H. : History and Literature in Grammar Grades, D. C. Heath & Co., Boston, pp. 15. TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 205 Scott, Professor F. N., and Denney, Professor J. V. : Para- graph Writing. AUyn & Bacon, Boston, pp. 259. A useful treatise ;*it makes the paragraph the unit of com- position. ScuDDER, H. E. : Literature in the Public Schools (The At- lantic Monthly, August, 1888, p. 223). Spencer, Herbert: Philosophy of Style. The edition edited, with introduction and notes, by F. N. Scott, and published by Allyn & Bacon, Boston, is recommended. This celebrated essay, while not to be implicitly accepted, may be studied to great advantage by teachers. Whitney, Professor W. D. : Essentials of English Gram- mar for the Use of Schools. Ginn & Co., Boston, pp. 260. Admirable for teachers. Woodward, F. C. : English in the Schools. D. C. Heath Sc Co., Boston, pp. 25. Good discussion of the educational value of the vernacular. Wright, T. H. : Style. Contained in Scott's edition of Spencer. See above. SYLLABUS OF HINSDALE'S TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. Pages I to 6. THE SCOPE OF THE PRESENT WORK. 1. Murray's Grammar, and the former state of things in schools. 2. Changes in the regimen down to our own time. 3. Purposes of the present work. Pages 7 to 12. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS DEFINED. 4. Distinction between science and art. 5. The two aspects of art. 6. The elementary school arts enumerated. 7. The language-arts enumerated and characterized. 8. Instrumental studies. Pages 12 to 21. THE VERNACULAR AS AN EDUCATIONAL INSTRUMENT. 9. The psychological relation of language and thought. 10. The historical relation. 11. The vernacular: its educational value. Prof. Lau- rie and Dr. Schurman quoted. Pages 21 to 26. THE WORK OF THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. 12. The child's two mental possessions when he enters the school. 13. The teacher's twofold work. 207 2o8 SYLLABUS OF 14. The manner in which the child has acquired his present possessions to determine the manner in which he shall acquire his future possessions. Pages 26 to 33. THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S KNOWLEDGE. 15. The fundamental facts involved in our earliest knowledge. 16. The child's groups of ideas at the age of six. Pages }} to 43. THE ORIGIN OF THE CHILD'S LANGUAGE. 17. The Steps to be taken in learning to speak. 18. The function of imitation, unconscious and con- scious. 19. Rules do not appear in the process. Pages 43 to 55. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE LOWER GRADES. 20. Prof. Laurie's analysis of language. 21. The methods or devices employed in teaching the language-arts in the lower grades: (i) Conversa- tions; (2) tales and stories; (3) object lessons; (4) reading lessons; (5) poetical selections com- mitted to memory ; (6) written exercises. 22. Remarks following suggestions of method. 23. The agents that promote education in the vernacu- lar, four in number. Pages 55 to 66. THE LANGUAGE-ARTS IN THE HIGHER GRADES. 24. The continuity of mental growth and teaching. 25. Exercises to be employed in advanced teaching of HINSDALE'S TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 209 the language-arts: (i) Copying and dictation ex- ercises; (2) composing themes; (3) paraphrasing; (4) imitation of chosen models; (5) translation. 26. The study of etymology. 27. The study of words as a source of history. 28. The kind of translation that helps in English. Pages 66 to 71. THE ART OF READING. 29. Carlyle on reading. 30. The relation of the author to a composition. 31. The relation of the reader to a composition. 32. Carlyle on the community of life between writer and reader. ;^;^. Mr. Scudder's use of Bjornson's story. Pages 71 to 79. READING AND MENTAL CULTIVATION. 34. The relation of reading to the guidance studies. 35. The relation of reading to the disciplinary studies. 36. The relation of reading to the culture studies. 37. The linguistic influence of great books. 38. The English use of the word " read." Pages 79 to 86. REQUISITES FOR READING. 39. The three qualifications required to read: (i) Men- tal preparation; (2) mastery of the mechanism of the printed page ; (3) vocal training. 40. Apperception and reading. 41. The reader to have one mental life with the writer: illustrations from Tennyson, Macaulay, and Shake- speare. 42. Value to the child of personal contact with Nature. 2IO SYLLABUS OF Pages 86 to 94. TEACHING READING AS AN ART. 43. The child on reaching the school to attack the sym- bols of the printed page. 44. To attack the sounds of the symbols. 45. To attack the significance of the symbols. 46. Elements involved in reading. 47. Proportional stress to be laid on the mechanical and thought elements of reading. 48. Imitation the key word, not rules. 49. The value of reading aloud. Pages 94 to 112. TEACHING READING AS THOUGHT. 50. Points to be observed in teaching reading as thought: (i) One phase at first; (2) differentia- tion; (3 and 4) assignment of lessons; (5) prepa- ration of the lesson in advance; (6) in higher work the teacher to study occasional lessons with the class; (7) lessons in reading to be connected with other lessons; (8) the subject of definitions ; (9) the teacher to question the class about the lesson before it is read in class; (10) summaries to be called for. 51. School readers and reading lessons. 52. Attention to be paid to mechanical elements. 53. Exercise I. 54. Exercise II. Pages 1 12 to 128. TEACHING COMPOSITION. 55. Composition defined; its relation to the other lan- guage-arts. 56. The art of composition difficult. HINSDALE'S TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 211 57. Relation of Nature and practice in composition; Prof. Minto quoted. 58. The value of example; Prof. Minto quoted. 59. Practical directions to the teacher: (i) Good train- ing in the other language-arts required; (2) the interest of the pupil to be secured ; (3) the choice of subject important; (4) the teacher to choose subjects; rules to be observed in choosing; (5) the teacher to instruct the pupil in the modus of composition : the sentence, the paragraph, and the essay; (6) outlines; (7) rules and criticisms. 60. Relation of thought-material to thought-expression. 61. Intensive teaching : concentration. 62. The model to work in the pupil. 63. Composition a noble art. Pages 128 to 147. TEACHING ENGLISH LITERATURE. 64. Mr. Quick's analysis of literature. 65. The relation of matter and form. 66. Literature presents many subordinate aspects of variable value. 67. The " literature " to hold the first place. 68. Wrong method illustrated by Mr. Verity's " Milton." 69. Mr. Hudson on teaching Shakespeare. 70. Room afforded for a variety of questions. 71. Intensive and general study of compositions. 72. Literature and recitations. 73. Literature and examinations. 74. Haste in education. 75. The history of literature. 76. The choice of literature suitable to schools. 77. Why literature should be taught. 78. Illustrative exercise. 212 SYLLABUS OF Pages 147 to 171. THE FUNCTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 79. Definitions of grammar, ancient and modern. 80. The traditionary view of grammar false. 81. Dr. Fitch, Prof. Whitney, and Herbert Spencer quoted. 82. Grammar limited to etymology and syntax. 83. The causes that broke down the scholastic grammar two in number. 84. The first English grammars made after Latin models. 85. Difference between the English and Latin languages. S6. Reasons for teaching English grammar: (i) The facts of language ; (2) the disciplinary value of grammar; (3) grammar the logic of speech; (4) historical grammar; (5) practical value of gram- mar; (6) the relation of grammar to the vernacu- lar; (7) self-criticism. 87. Practical hints and suggestions. 88. Illustrative exercise. Pages 171 to 185. THE FUNCTION OF RHETORIC. 89. Definitions of rhetoric, ancient and modern. 90. Rhetoric embraces three elements : science, and art under its two aspects. 91. Rhetoric as a philosophical study. 92. Rhetoric as a moral discipline. 93. The practical value of the study of rhetoric consid- ered : (i) The value of the mechanical elements, as capitalization and punctuation ; (2) the value of the psychological elements, as qualities of style and rules for construction of sentences and fig- ures ; (3) Mr. Spencer on Philosophy of Style ; (4) Prof. Minto on the Office of Language quoted. HINSDALE'S TEACHING THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 213 Pages 185 to 199. THE FUNCTION OF CRIITCISM. 94. Criticism as a practical art. 95. Tlie three facts stated out of which the practical problem arises. 96. Practical suggestions, i to 8. 97. The Nature rules considered. Pages 199 to 203. TEACHERS OF THE LANGUAGE-ARTS. 98. Qualifications of teachers in lower grades. 99. Special teachers and special exercises. 100. Qualities of the teacher of English literature. THE END. U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 677807 UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA UBRARY '