Chapter V: Part 5

The class should for itself make a summary of the speech as it goes forward. For each paragraph should be devised a single sentence which gives clearly and concisely the thought, so that at the conclusion a complete skeleton shall have been made. Each student should make these sentences for himself as part of his preparation of a lesson, and from a comparison in the class the final form may be selected. Some of the school editions do this admirably, but one of two things seems to me indisputable: either the "Speech" is too difficult for students to handle or they should make their own summaries. To do this part of the work for them is to deprive the study of its most valuable element. The best justification such a selection can have for its inclusion in the list of required books is that it may fairly be used for this careful analytical work without prejudice to the effect of the piece as a whole. In other words, no objection exists to treating this especial selection first from the purely intellectual point of view. To consider a play of Shakespeare first intellectually would seem to me utterly wrong; but this argument of Burke is intentionally addressed to the reason rather than to the imagination, and would therefore logically be so read.

Beside the mere interpretation of difficult passages, the pupil should be made to discern and to weigh the value and effect of the admirable sentences in which the orator has condensed whole trains of logic.

The concessions of the weak are the concessions of fear.

A wise and salutary neglect.

The power of refusal, the first of all revenues.

The voluntary flow of heaped-up plenty.

All government—indeed, every human benefit and enjoyment,
every virtue and every prudent act—is founded on compromise
and barter.

The study of phrases of this sort is admirable training for the reasoning faculties of the scholar, it educates the powers of reading, and it may be made a continuous lesson in the nature and value of literary technique. Of this study of literary workmanship I shall speak later; here it is sufficient to point the necessity at once and the advantage of dwelling on these vital thoughts so admirably expressed.

By the time the oration has been gone through with, and a summary of each paragraph made in the class, a skeleton is ready from which the argument may be considered as a whole. In some schools students will be able to criticise from an historical point of view, and any intelligent boy to whom the oration is given for study should be able to judge of the logic of the plea.

If the "Speech" is to justify its claim to being literature in the higher sense, however, it is not possible to stop with the intellectual study. The question of what constitutes literature is better taken up, it seems to me, near the end of the course of secondary work, if it is to come in at all; but preparation for dealing with that question must come all along the line. When Burke has been studied for his political meanings, his argument summed up and examined, the intellectual force of the parts and of the whole sufficiently considered, then it is necessary to look at the imaginative qualities of the work.

I would never set children to examine any piece of prose or verse for any qualities until I was sure they understood what they are to look for. If they are to examine the oration for imaginative passages, they must first know clearly what an imaginative passage is. Here the previous training of the class is to be reckoned with. Some classes must be taught the significance of the term "imaginative" by having the passages pointed out to them and then analyzed; others are so far advanced as to be able to discover them. The thing I wish to emphasize is that when the simply intellectual study has progressed far enough, the imaginative must follow. Passages which may be used here are such as these:

My plan . . . does not propose to fill your lobby with
squabbling colony agents, who will require the interposition
of your mace at every instant to keep peace among them. It
does not institute a magnificent auction of finance, where
captivated provinces come to general ransom by bidding against
each other, until you knock down the hammer, and determine a
proportion of payments beyond all powers of algebra to equalize
and settle.

* * * * *

Such is the strength with which population shoots in that part
of the world, that, state the numbers as high as we will,
whilst the dispute continues, the exaggeration ends.

* * * * *

Look at the manner in which the people of New England have of
late carried on the whale fishery. Whilst we follow them among
the tumbling mountains of ice, and behold them penetrating into
the deepest frozen recesses of Hudson Bay and Davis Strait,
whilst we are looking for them beneath the Arctic Circle, we
hear that they have pierced into the opposite region of polar
cold, that they are at the antipodes and engaged under the
frozen Serpent of the south. Falkland Island, which seemed
too remote and romantic an object for the grasp of national
ambition, is but a stage and resting-place in the progress of
their victorious industry. Nor is the equinoctial heat more
discouraging to them than the accumulated winter of both poles.
We know that while some of them draw the line and strike the
harpoon on the coast of Africa, others run the longitude and
pursue their gigantic game along the coast of Brazil. No sea
but is vexed by their fisheries. No climate that is not witness
of their toils.

* * * * *

A people who are still, as it were, but in the gristle, and not
yet hardened into the bone of manhood.

Passages of this sort are frequent in the speech, and it is not difficult to make the pupils not only recognize them, but appreciate the quality which distinguishes them from the matter-of-fact statements of figures, statistics, or other necessary information.

A step further is to make the class see how the imagination shows in a passage like the famous sentence:

I do not know the method of drawing up an indictment against a
whole people.

These dozen or so words may profitably be made the subject for an entire lesson, and if this seem a proportionately extravagant amount of time to give to a single line, I can only say that to do one thing thoroughly is not only better than to do a score superficially, but in the long run it is economy of time as well. If the class can be led to discuss the meaning of the phrase, and the principles upon which Burke rested the argument which is behind this superb proposition, not only will the hour have been well spent in developing the ideas of the students, but the whole oration will be wonderfully illuminated. When to this is added an adequate understanding of the imaginative grasp which seizes the personality of a whole nation, perceives its majesty, its sovereignty, and the impossibility of arraigning it before the bar like a criminal, the student is getting the best that the study of the oration can give him.

Written work should be kept within the limits of the capability of the individual pupil to think intelligently. Perhaps the best means of enforcing upon a class the vigor of Burke's style at once and the completeness of the oration as a whole is that of requiring from each an expression, as clear and as exact as possible, of just what the orator wished to effect, and an estimate, as critical as the pupil is capable of making, of how the means employed were especially adapted to carry out his purpose. Such work will be useless if the teacher does the reasoning, but much may be elicited by skilful leading in recitation, and after the scholars have done all that they can do, the instructor may add his comment.

After the "Speech on Conciliation" may reasonably come, if the required list of readings is being followed, the "Sir Roger de Coverley Papers." Here one deals with work more deliberately imaginative. Preparation for taking up these essays should begin with a brief account of the "Spectator" and of the circumstances under which they were written. The less elaborate this is the better, so long as it serves the purpose of giving the class some notion of the point of view; and indeed it is to be doubted whether as a matter of fact any great harm would be done if even this were omitted. What is needed is to interest the class in the work, and facts about times and circumstances seldom effect much real good in this study.

The vocabulary will give little trouble. It is well to be sure that the readers understand beforehand such words as may be rather remote from daily speech. In the account of the club (March 2, 1710-11), for instance, the list given out for test might include such terms as these: baronet, country-dance, shire, humor, modes, Soho-square, quarter-sessions, game-act. In the first paragraph, from which these words are taken, are also two or three phrases which should be familiar before the reading is undertaken: "never dressed afterward," "in his merry humors," "rather beloved than esteemed," and "justice of the quorum." The historical allusions, as represented by the names Lord Rochester, Sir George Etherege, and Dawson, go also into this preliminary study.

The paper should be first read as a whole, with no other interruption than may come in the form of questions from the class. The teacher should make no effort at anything here but intelligent reading. Then the paper may be given out for careful study; the form of this may be varied at the pleasure of the teacher and the needs of the class. The presentation of character is the point to be most strongly brought out, and this must be done delicately but as completely as possible. The "De Coverley Papers" necessarily seem to the modern youth extremely remote from actual life as he knows it, and the majority of Institute students with whom I have talked admit that they found Addison very quiet, or, in their own phrase, "slow." The characters are accordingly apt to appear to them dim and unreal; to be hardly more alive than the figures on an ancient tapestry. This feeling cannot be wholly overcome, especially in the limited time which is at the command of the teacher of school literature, yet whatever vividness of impression a reader of the essays gets is directly proportional to the extent to which Sir Roger and his friends emerge from the land of shadows, and seem to the boys and girls genuine flesh and blood. The chief care of the instructor in dealing with these papers, the aim to which everything else should be subordinated, is to encourage and to develop the sense of reality. The little touches by which the personality of the old knight is shown must be dwelt upon as each appears; and in the end a summary of these may be made as a means of stating briefly but clearly Sir Roger's character. Constantly, too, by means homely enough to be clearly and easily intelligible to the class, must each of these passages be connected with the personal experiences of the children. In the essay generally headed "Sir Roger at Home," for instance, the author remarks:

Sir Roger, who is very well acquainted with my humor, lets me
rise and go to bed when I please; dine at his own table, or in
my chamber, as I think fit; sit still, and say nothing, without
bidding me be merry.

The whole situation, that of a notable man's visit to a country squire, is utterly foreign to the pupil's probable experience. He can, however, be made to recall occasions in which he has been considered and his wishes consulted. He may or may not as a guest have tested different forms of hospitality, but he easily decides how under given circumstances he would wish to be treated. From this he is without difficulty led to an appreciation of the consideration with which Sir Roger was intent not upon his own wishes or the ease of his household, but upon the pleasure of his guest. Few boys or girls can have come to the school age without understanding what a drawback to good spirits it is to be told to be merry, and they can appreciate the common sense of the knight in thinking of this, and his tact in not bothering his guest. The same thoughtful kindness is shown in the way Sir Roger protected his lion from sightseers. Incidentally the point may be made in passing that Addison humorously took this means of impressing on the reader of the "Spectator" the importance of the supposed writer.

The best preparation a teacher can make for dealing with these essays is to get clearly into his own mind the personality, the characteristics, even the outward appearance of each of the characters dealt with. It is impossible to make these quiet and delicately drawn pictures real and alive unless we have for them a genuine love and a sense of acquaintance; and I know of no method by which in practical work this can be communicated except by the vivifying of such passages as that quoted above.

Each student should bring to the class a statement of what he regards as the chief thought in each paper as it comes up,—not the moral of the paper, but the chief end which the writer seems to have in view, the thought which most strongly strikes the reader. These opinions should be talked over in class, and from them one produced which at least the majority of the class are willing to accept. No pupil, however, should be discouraged from holding to his own original proposition, or from adopting a view at variance with that of the majority.

Always if possible,—and personally I should make it possible, even at the sacrifice of other things,—the paper should last of all be read as a whole without interruption. The fact should always be kept before the minds of the pupils that the essay is not a collection of detached facts or thoughts, but that it is a whole, and that it can fairly be received only in its entirety.

* * * * *

To stretch out illustrations of the teaching of particular books would only be tedious, and I trust I have done enough to make evident what I believe should be the spirit of work done in the "studying" of prose in the secondary schools. The matter is of comparative simplicity as contrasted with the handling of poetry; and I have therefore reserved most of my space for the latter. No one knows better than I that any formal method is fatal to real and vital work; and what I have written has been largely inspired by a knowledge that many instructors are at a loss to formulate any rational method at all, while others, I am forced sorrowfully to add, seem never even to have perceived that any method is possible.

XII

THE STUDY OF THE NOVEL

Whatever may be the entrance requirements and whatever the prescribed course in the way of fiction, I should begin the study of the novel with a modern book. To hold the attention of the majority of modern children long enough for them to form any adequate idea of the quality and characteristics of any work of the length of an ordinary novel, long enough for them to gain an idea which conceives of the work as a whole and not as a collection of detached scenes and scraps, is sufficiently difficult in any case. It should not be made more difficult by selecting as a text a book requiring effort in the understanding of vocabulary, point of view, setting, and the rest. "Ivanhoe" is good in its place, but it is not adapted to use as first aid to the untrained. It is probable that a class after sufficient experience in fiction may be able to handle "Silas Marner," and it is apparently fated by the powers that be that they must struggle with "The Vicar of Wakefield;" but they certainly need preliminary practice before they are set to grapple with those fictions so remote from their daily lives. They should begin with something as near their own world as possible; and "Treasure Island," the scene laid in the land of boyhood's imaginings, is an excellent example of the sort of story which may well be used to introduce them to the serious consideration of this branch of literature.

A little preliminary talk may well precede the actual reading. The teacher should be sure that the class has a fair idea of what piracy is,—a matter generally of little difficulty,—and of the social conditions under which the tale begins. The actual geography of the romance need not be considered much, although students lose nothing if they are trained to the habit of knowing accurately the location of such real places as are named in any story; but the imaginary geography of the tale, the topography of the island, should be well mastered. Beyond this, the teacher should have prepared a list of words to be learned before any reading is done. This should include all those in the first assignment that are likely to bother the child in the first going over of the text. In the opening chapter, for instance, such words as these:

Buccaneer (title of Part I).
Capstan bars.
Connoisseur.
Dry Tortugas.
Spanish Main.
Hawker.
Assizes.

In this chapter are a couple of allusions to the costume of the time, but as they are intelligible only when taken as sentences they may be left for the reading in class:

One of the cocks of his hat having fallen down.

The neat, bright doctor, with his powder as white as snow.

When the class comes together the vocabulary is to be taken up as a solid and distinct task, and after that is disposed of, the text may follow. It is generally impossible to give the time to the reading aloud of an entire novel; but I am inclined to believe that at least the opening chapters, the portion of the story which must be most deliberately considered if the young reader is to go on with the tale in full possession of the atmosphere and the characters as they are introduced, should always be thus taken up. The portions assigned for each lesson must be brief at first, but may wisely increase as the interest grows and familiarity with personages and situations is enlarged.

The first chapter, then, having been read aloud, the class may make a list of the characters introduced: Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, the old pirate not yet named, the father, the "I" who is telling the story. The seaman who brings the chest and the neighbors are obviously of no permanent importance.

Of these characters the class should give orally so much of an impression as they have obtained from this chapter. This is simple with the buccaneer, fairly easy in regard to Dr. Livesey and the inn-keeper, but more difficult in the case of the boy. The paragraph beginning:

How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell you—

and the opening sentence of the following paragraph:

But though I was so terrified by the idea of the seafaring man
with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than
anybody else who knew him—

give admirable material for class discussion. The first should appeal to the children, who must be made to understand that to Jim Hawkins the one-legged seafaring man was not a mere idea, but an actual personage for whom he was set to watch, and of whom even the terrible old Billy Bones was mortally afraid. The second at once illustrates how the unknown was more frightful to the lad than the veritable flesh and blood pirate; and it shows also by excellent contrast how terrifying the buccaneer was to the frequenters of the inn.

For the second chapter the vocabulary would for most classes include such words as

Cutlass.
Talons.
Chine.
Lancet.

The expressions which should be made clear in class would include:

Cleared the hilt of his cutlass.
Showed a wonderfully clean pair of heels.
Fouled the tap.
Stake my wig.
Open a vein.

This chapter has a number of delicate touches which should be brought to the notice of the class; such as the lump in the throat of Black Dog while he waited for the pirate in moral terror; his clever excuse for having the door left open apparently that he might be sure Jim was not listening, but in reality that he might have a way of escape in case of danger; the picture of the gallows in the tattooing.

The characters of Billy Bones and Jim are added to in the chapter, and that of the doctor made more clear. The touch by which the boy is made to feel compassion for the pirate when Bones turns so ghastly at the sight of Black Dog is one which should not be missed. The story, too, begins to develop, and the youthful reader must be unusually insensitive if he does not speculate upon the past of Bones and upon the relation of the pirate with Black Dog.

It is not necessary to go on with this sort of analysis, for the method I am detailing must be essentially that of most teachers. If the points mentioned seem to some over-minute, I can only say that since the aim is to teach children how to handle fiction, the task of training them to be intelligently careful in their reading is of the first importance. There is no risk of making them finical or too minutely observant. This is moreover the _study_ of a novel, and it should be more careful than reading is supposed to be. It is morally certain that any child will fall below the standard set, and it is therefore necessary to have the standard as high as it can be without tiring or confusing the children.

When the book has been gone through in this way comes the important question of dealing with it as a whole. It would hardly be wise to ask children directly what they think of a book as a complete work; and yet that is the thing at which the teacher wishes to arrive. The way has been prepared by the study of character and the discussion of incident throughout. In the end the subject of character as it is seen from the beginning of the tale to the close may easily lead the way to making up some estimate of the book as a unit. First, do the persons in the romance act consistently; second, do the incidents follow along so that they seem really to have happened. These questions will at first have a tendency to bewilder young readers, who are likely to accept anything in a romance as if it were true, and to have no judgment beyond the matter whether the book does or does not interest them. It is not to be expected that they will go very deep or be very broad in their dealing with such points in the case of a first novel, but they can make a beginning. They cannot in the book in question go far in what is the natural third question concerning a book as a whole: Does it show clearly and truly the development of character under the circumstances of the story. Jim Hawkins is at the end of the book manifestly older and more manly than at the start, as shown, for instance, by his refusal to break his word to Silver when the doctor talks with him over the stockade and urges him to come away with him. With the other characters it is more the bringing out of traits already existing than the developing of new ones. John Silver is of course by far the most masterly figure in the book—although the student should be allowed to have his own idea in regard to this. Indeed, one of the ways in which he judges and should judge a book as a whole is by deciding what personage in it is, all things considered and the story taken all through, most clearly and sharply defined. The class should be able to see and to appreciate how the tale as it progresses brings to light one phase after another of the amazing character of Silver, up to his pluck at the moment when the treasure-seekers discover that the gold has been taken away from the cache and to his humble attitude toward the Squire when the cave of Ben Gunn is reached.

Lastly, perhaps,—for I do not insist upon the order in which these points should be taken up, but only give them in the sequence which to me seems likely to be most natural and effective,—the class should be brought to appreciate the construction of the book. This involves obviously the way in which the author weaves together incidents so that each shall have a part in the general scheme; but it also involves the way in which he brings out the part that the individual traits and character of the persons in the story had in leading up to the end. In "Treasure Island," for instance, it is easy to show how one thing leads to another, and how out of the chain no link could be taken without breaking the continuity. This should not be impressed upon the class, however, as a matter of invention on the part of the author. Children know that the book is a fiction, but they prefer to ignore this. It is not well to make the fact part of the instruction. The way to handle this is to dwell upon the skill with which he has arranged particulars, and passed in his narrative from one party to another so as to have each incident clear. Pupils may be reminded of how easy it is to mix the details of a story so as to confuse the hearer or the reader, and thus may be made to appreciate to some degree the cleverness of the workmanship which so distinguishes the work of Stevenson.

More subtle in a way and yet not beyond the comprehension of the school-boy is the part which character plays in shaping events and moulding the story. The restlessness and the curiosity of Jim, from the adventure of the apple-barrel to the saving of the ship, are essentials in the tale; and equally the diabolical cleverness and _unscrupulousness_ of Silver shape the events of the story from beginning to end.

One more illustration may be taken from the novel which is so generally included in high-school English, Scott's "Ivanhoe." Here it is necessary to prepare for the story by the acquirement of a certain amount of history. It is perhaps as well to take the first five[159:1] paragraphs of the opening chapter as a preliminary lesson, and to treat it as history pure and simple. In preparation for this lesson the following vocabulary should be mastered:

Dragon of Wantley.
Wars of the Roses.
Vassalage.
Inferior gentry, or franklins.
Feudal.
The Conquest.
Duke William of Normandy.
Normans.
Anglo-Saxons.
Battle of Hastings.
Laws of the chase.
Chivalry.
Hinds.
Classical languages.

A few other expressions, such as "petty kings," should be looked after in the reading, lest the class get a false impression. The geography of the river Don and of Doncaster may be passed over; but it is perhaps better, especially in this historical preliminary, to require full accuracy in this particular. To my thinking all this should be looked up by the students, and never taken from notes appended to the text.

The five paragraphs in which Scott gives the historic background should be taken frankly as a piece of work out of which the class is to make as clear a conception of the period of the tale as possible. The pupils should use their common sense and their intelligence in studying it, getting all out of it that they can get. Then it should be read aloud in the class, and carefully gone over. The aim should be to have understood as clearly as possible what were the political and the social conditions of the time when the events of the romance are represented as taking place. Such other historic personages as enter into the story without being mentioned in this preliminary sketch should be brought into this exposition. Thus when King Richard and Prince John and Robin Hood the semi-historic come upon the stage the student will be prepared for the effect which the novelist intended, and will have, moreover, that pleasure which a young reader always feels in finding himself equal to an occasion.

This preliminary work being accomplished, the rest of the book will probably have to be largely assigned for home reading. The opening chapters, however, and the most striking scenes must certainly be read aloud in class. A sufficient portion for a lesson will be assigned each day. A list of words for that portion will be given out with it to be learned first. No teacher will suppose, I fancy, that in every case a student will master the vocabulary before he reads the selection, but the principle is sound and the words would at least be all taken up in class before any reading is done. Students should be told to read the selection aloud at home, and should come to the class acquainted with the meaning and significance of each passage, or prepared to ask about them.

At the beginning of the novel, when the reader is learning the situation and the characters concerned, the assignments must be shorter than in the latter part of the book, when these things are understood and the current of the tale runs more swiftly. The remainder of the first chapter, from the paragraph beginning "The sun was setting" is quite enough for a first instalment. The following words make up the preliminary vocabulary:

Rites of druidical superstition.
Scrip.
Bandeau.
Harlequin.
Rational.
Quarter-staff.
Murrain.
Eumæus.

The method of treating the fiction itself has been sufficiently indicated in the previous illustration from "Treasure Island," but may be briefly touched upon. In this chapter of "Ivanhoe" are introduced two characters. Both are described at some length, but in the case of both important touches here and there add to the impression. Gurth is said at the beginning to be stern and sad, and in the talk the reasons come out.

"The mother of mischief confound the Ranger of the forest, that
cuts the foreclaws off our dogs, and makes them unfit for their
trade."

"Little is left us but the air we breathe, and that appears
to have been reserved with much hesitation, solely for the
purpose of enabling us to endure the tasks they lay upon our
shoulders."

We have a proof of his impulsiveness in the dangerous freedom with which he speaks to Wamba, and of how daring this is we are made aware when the jester says to him:

"I know thou thinkest me a fool, or thou wouldst not be so
rash in putting thy head into my mouth. One word to Reginald
Front-de-Bœuf . . . thou wouldst waver on one of these trees
as a terror to all evil speakers against dignities."

Of the superstition of Gurth we have proof by his fear at the mention of the fairies.

"Wilt thou talk of such things while a terrible storm of
thunder and lightning is raging within a few miles of us?"

Here is a fairly satisfactory portrait of Gurth, although other traits of character are developed as the book goes forward. At the end of the novel the attention of the class may be directed to the skilful way in which at the very start Scott has struck in the words of Gurth the keynote of the oppression of the Normans and the hatred for them in the hearts of the Saxons; but a point of this sort should not be anticipated. It will tell for more if it is left until it has had its full effect and its place as a part of the whole romance may be clearly shown.

* * * * *

One last word I cannot bring myself to omit. I have said elsewhere that I disbelieve in the drawing of morals, and at the risk of repetition I wish to emphasize this in connection with fiction. The temptation here is especially strong. It is so easy to draw a moral from any tale ever written that two classes of teachers, those morally over-conscientious and those ignorantly inept, are almost sure to insist that their classes shall drag a moral lesson out of every story. The habit seems to me thoroughly vicious. It is proper to make the character of the persons in the novel as vivid as possible. The villain may be made as hateful to God and to man as the testimony of the author will in any way allow; but when that is done the children should be left to draw their own morals. They should not even be allowed to know that the teacher is aware that a moral may be drawn, and still less should they be asked to discover one. If they draw a moral themselves or ask questions about one, this is well, so long as they are sincere and spontaneous. If they are left entirely to themselves in this they will in a healthy natural fashion get from the story such moral instruction as they are capable of profiting by, and they will not be put into that antagonistic attitude which human nature inevitably takes when it is preached to.

FOOTNOTES:

[159:1] Five in the original. Some school editions, for what reason I do not know, omit paragraph five, which begins: "This state of things I have thought it necessary to premise."

XIII

THE STUDY OF "MACBETH"

How I conceive the study of poetry may be managed in school-work I have already indicated somewhat fully, but one concrete example is often worth a dozen abstract statements. In the literary work of almost every high school is now included the study of at least one Shakespearean play, and as "Macbeth" is so generally selected as the one to be first taken up, I have chosen that as an illustration.

The study of any play, as I have said, should begin with a requirement that the class master the vocabulary. The pupils should be made to understand that the need of doing this is precisely the same as the need of learning common speech for the sake of comprehending the talk of every-day life, or of mastering the vocabulary of French before going to the theatre to hear a play in that language. The scholars should be told frankly that this will not be particularly easy work, but that it is to be taken in the same spirit that one learned the multiplication-table. No harm can come of letting the class expect this part of the work to be full harder than it really is, and at least it is well to have students understand that they are expected to labor to fit themselves for the enjoyment of literature.

In this preparation the aim is to make it possible for the readers to go on with the text without important interruptions. This purpose determines what words and passages shall be taken up. Some difficulties may safely and wisely be left for the second reading of the play, and as it is well in these days not to expect too much of the industry of youth, the teacher will do well to keep the list of words to be mastered as short as may be. The whole play should be prepared for before any of it is read, but I give only examples from the first act. I should suggest—each teacher to vary the list at his pleasure—that in the first act the following words should be dealt with. The numbers of the lines are those of the Temple Edition.

_Alarum._ This occurs in the stage-directions of scene ii. The class will see at once that it differs from "alarm," and can be made to appreciate how from the strong rolling of the _r_—"alarr'm" came to this form. That the latter form is now used in the sense of a warning sound, and especially in the sense of a sound of trumpet or drum to announce the coming of a military body or the escort of importance affords a good example of the manner in which synonyms are established in the language. A quotation or two may help to fix the word in mind:

Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings—"Richard III,"
_i_, 1.

And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love?—"Othello,"
_ii_, 3.

The dread alarum should make the earth quake to its
centre.—Hawthorne, "Old Manse."

_Kerns and gallowglasses_, _ii_, 13. It may be enough to give simply the fact that the first of these uncouth words means light-armed and the second heavy-armed Irish troops. If the teacher likes, however, he may add a brief mention of the passage from Barnabie Riche:

The _Galloglas_ succeedeth the Horseman, and hee is commonly
armed with a skull,[167:1] a shirt of maile, and a _Galloglas_
axe; his service in the field is neither good against horsemen,
nor able to endure an encounter of pikes, yet the Irish do
make great account of them. The _Kerne_ of Ireland are next in
request, the very drosse and scum of the countrey, a generation
of villaines not worthy to live: these be they that live by
robbing and spoiling the poor countreyman, that maketh him
many times to buy bread to give unto them, though he want
for himself and his poore children. These are they that are
ready to run out with every rebell, and these are the very
hags of hell, fit for nothing but for the gallows.—_New Irish
Prognostication._

_Thane_, _ii_, 45. This word may be made interesting by its close connection with the Anglo-Saxon. _Thegan_ was originally a servant, then technically the king's servant, and so an Anglo-Saxon nobleman and one of the king's more immediate warriors.

_Bellona_, _ii_, 54. The mythological allusion is of course easy to handle.

_Composition_, _ii_, 59. This I would include in the list chiefly to emphasize how often a little common sense will solve what at first sight seems a difficulty of language. "Craves composition" is so easily connected with "composing difficulties" or any similar phrase that an intelligent pupil can see the point if he is only alive to the force of language.

_Aroint_, _iii_, 6. It will interest most scholars to learn that this word—except for modern imitations—is found only in Shakespeare, and in him but twice, both times in the phrase "Aroint thee, witch" (the second instance, "Lear," _iii_, 4). They will be at least amused by the possibility of its being derived from a dialect word given in the Cheshire proverb quoted by an old author named Ray in 1693, and probably in use in the time of Shakespeare: "'Rynt you, witch,' quoth Bessie Locket to her mother;" and in the speculation whether the dramatist himself made the word. The curious derivation of the term from rauntree or rantry, the old form of rowan, or mountain-ash, is sure to appeal to children who have seen the rowan ripening its red berries. The mountain-ash, or the "quicken," as it is called in Ireland, is one of the most famous trees in Irish tradition, and is sacred to the "Gentle People," the fairies. It was of old regarded as a sure defence against witches, and the theory of some scholars is that the original form of the exclamation given by Shakespeare was "I've a rauntree, witch," "I've a rowan-tree, witch." All that it is necessary for the reader to know is that the word is evidently a warning to the witch to depart; but there can be no objection to introducing into this preliminary study of the vocabulary matter which is likely to arrest attention and to fix meanings in the mind.

_Rump-fed ronyon_, _iii_, 6. It is hardly worth while to do more with this than to have it understood that "ronyon" is a term of contempt, meaning scabby or something of the sort, and that "rump-fed," while it may refer to the fact that kidneys, rumps, and scraps were perquisites of the cook or given to beggars, probably indicates nothing more than a plump, over-fed woman.

_Pent-house lid_, _iii_, 20. A pent-house is from the dictionary found to be a sloping roof projecting from a wall over a door or window; and from this to the comparison with the eyebrow is an easy step. That the simile was common in the sixteenth century may be shown by numerous quotations, as, for instance, the passage in Thomas Decker's "Gull's Horne-book," 1609:

The two eyes are the glasse windows, at which light disperses
itself into every roome, having goodlie pent-houses of hair to
overshadow them.

In the second chapter of "Ivanhoe":

Had there not lurked under the pent-house of his eye that sly
epicurean twinkle.

And so on down to our own time, when Tennyson, in "Merlin and Vivian," writes:

He dragged his eyebrow bushes down, and made
A snowy pent-house for his hollow eyes.

_Insane root_, _iii_, 84. In Plutarch's "Lives," which in the famous translation of North was familiar to Shakespeare and from which he took material for his plays, we are told that the soldiers of Anthony in the Parthian war were forced by lack of provisions to "taste of roots that were never eaten before; among which was one that killed them, and made them out of their wits." Any intelligent student would be likely to understand the force of this phrase from the context, but it is well to speak of it beforehand to avoid distraction of the attention in reading.

_Coign_, _vi_, 7. "Jutty," from our common use of the verb "to jut," carries its own meaning, and the use of the word "coign" in this passage is given in the "Century Dictionary."

_Sewer_, _vii_, _stage-directions_. The derivation and the meaning are also given in the "Century Dictionary," with illustrative quotations.

So far for single words which would be likely to bother the ordinary student in reading. The list might be extended by individual teachers to fit individual cases, and such words included as choppy, _iii_, 44; blasted, _iii_, 77; procreant, _vi_, 8; harbinger, _iv_, 45; flourish, _iv_, _end_; martlet, _vi_, 4; God 'ield, _vi_, 13; trammel up, _vii_, 3; limbec, _vii_, 67. It is well, however, not to make the list longer than is absolute necessary; and as the vocabulary of the whole play is to be taken up, it is better to trust to the general intelligence of the class as far as possible.

II

These doubtful or obsolete words having been mastered by the class, and the lines in which they occur used as illustrations of their use, the next matter is to take up obscure passages. These may be blind from unusual use of familiar words or from some other cause. Where the difficulty is a matter of diction it is hardly worth while to make further division into groups, and in the first act the following passages may be given to the students to study out for themselves if possible, or to have explained by the teacher if necessary:

Say to the king _the knowledge of the broil_
As thou did leave it.—_ii_, 6.

* * * * *

For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name—
_Disdaining fortune_, with his brandished steel
Which smoked with _bloody execution_,
Like _valour's minion_ carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bid farewell to him,
Till he _unseam'd him from the nave to chaps_,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.—_ii_, 16-23.

* * * * *

Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or _memorize another Golgotha_,
I cannot tell.—_ii_, 39-41.

* * * * *

Till that _Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point rebellious_, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit.—_ii_, 54-57.

* * * * *

He shall live a man _forbid_.—_iii_, 21.

* * * * *

The weird sisters, hand in hand,
_Posters_ of the sea and land.—_iii_, 32, 33.

* * * * *

Art not without ambition, but without
_The illness should attend it_.—_v_, 20-21.

* * * * *

All that impedes thee from the _golden round_
That fate and _metaphysical aid_ doth seem
To have thee crowned withal.—_v_, 30-31.

* * * * *

To _beguile_ the time
Look like the time.—_vi_, 63.

* * * * *

—Those honors deep and broad wherewith
Your majesty loads our house: for those of old
And the late dignities heap'd up to them
We rest your _hermits_.—_vi_, 16-20.

* * * * *

This Duncan
Hath borne his _faculties_ so meek.—_vii_, 16-17.

* * * * *

What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His _spongy_ officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great _quell_.—_vii_, 69-72.

This list again may be made longer or shorter, with the same proviso as before, that it be not unnecessarily distended. Phrases like "craves composition" and "insane root," which I have put into the first section, may be grouped here if it seems better. I have not felt it needful to indicate the way in which the meaning of these obscure passages is to be brought out, for the method would be essentially the same as that taken to interest the class in the vocabulary of detached words.

III

Passages possibly obscure from the thought may for the most part be left for the later study of the play in detail. A few of them it is well to take up for the simple purpose of training the student in poetic language, and some need to be understood for the sake of the first general effect. In the first act of "Macbeth" the passages which it is actually necessary to examine are few, but the list may be made long or short at the pleasure of the teacher. The following may serve as examples:

The merciless Macdonwald—
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villainies of nature
Do swarm upon him.—_ii_, 9-12.

* * * * *

As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
Discomfort swells.—_ii_, 25-28.

* * * * *

But thither in a sieve I'll sail,
And like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do and I'll do.—_iii_, 8-10.

This passage is a good example of what may be passed over in the first reading, yet which if understood adds greatly to the force of the effect. If the scholar knows that according to the old superstition a witch could take the form of an animal but could be identified by the fact that the tail was wanting, the idea of the hag's flying through the air on the wind to the tempest-tossed vessel bound for Aleppo, and on it taking the form of a tailless rat to gnaw, and gnaw, and gnaw till the ship springs a leak, is sure to appeal to the youthful imagination.

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man that function
Is smothered in surmise, and nothing is
But what is not.—_iii_, 139-142.

This is one of those passages which is sure to puzzle the ordinary school-boy, although a little help will enable him to understand it, and to see how natural under the circumstances is the state of mind which it paints. The murder is as yet only imagined (fantastical), and yet the thought of it so shakes Macbeth's individual (single) consciousness (state of man) that the ordinary functions of the mind are lost in confused surmises of what may come as the consequences of the deed; until to his excited fancy nothing seems real (is) but what the dreadful surmise paints, although that does not yet exist.

Your servants ever
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt
To make their audit to your highness' pleasure,
Still to return your own.—_vi_, 25-28.

* * * * *

His two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassail so convince,
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbec only.—_vii_, 63-67.

The whole of Macbeth's soliloquy at the beginning of scene _vii_ is a case in point. It may be taken up here, but to my thinking is better treated after the class is familiar with the circumstances under which it is spoken.

IV

The taking up of especially striking passages beforehand may be omitted altogether, although what I consider the possible advantages I have already indicated.[175:1] Perhaps the better plan is to do this after the first reading of the play, and before the second reading prepares the way for detailed study. The sort of passage I have in mind is indicated by the following examples:

If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say which grain will grow and which will not.—_iii_, 58-59.

The attention of the pupils may be called to the especial force and fitness of the image. The impossibility of telling from the appearance of a seed whether it will grow or what will spring from it makes very striking this comparison of events to them, so unable are we to say which of these "seeds of time" will produce important results and which will show no more growth than a seed unsprouting.

_Dun._ This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

_Ban._ This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet, does approve
By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here.—_vi_, 1-7.

This is not only charming as poetry, but it is excellent as a help to train the class to appreciative reading by attention to significant details. "Nimbly,"—with a light, quick motion,—the air "recommends itself,"—comes upon us in a way which makes us appreciate its goodness,—unto our "gentle,"—delicate, capable of perceiving subtle qualities,—senses. In the reply of Banquo the use of "guest," one favored and invited, of "temple-haunting," conveying the idea of one frequenting places consecrated and revered, of "loved mansionry," dwellings which the eye loves to recognize, all help to strengthen the impression, and to give the feeling to the mind which we might have from watching the flight of the slim, glossy swallows flitting about their nests.

It is not necessary to multiply examples, since each teacher will have his personal preferences for striking passages; and since many will probably prefer to leave this whole matter to be taken up in the reading.

V

The first reading of a play, whether it come before or after the mastering of the vocabulary, should be unbroken except by the pauses necessary between consecutive recitations, and must above everything be clear and intelligible. In all but the most exceptional circumstances it should be done by the teacher, the class following the text in books of their own. No teacher who cannot read well has any business to attempt to teach literature at all, for reading aloud is the most effective of all means to be used in the study. This does not mean that the reading should be over-dramatic, and still less that it should be what is popularly known as "elocutionary;" but it does mean that it shall be agreeable, intelligent, and sympathetic. The teacher must both understand and feel the work, and must be trained to convey both comprehension and emotion through the voice. The pupils will from a first reading get chiefly the plot, but they may also be unconsciously prepared for the more important knowledge of character which is naturally the next step in the process of studying the drama.

As preparation for the first reading of "Macbeth" little is needed in the way of general explanation. The discussion of the supernatural element, of the responsibility of the characters, and of the central thought of the play, may safely be left for later study. Young people will respond to the direct story, and it is not unwise to let the plot produce its full effect as simple narrative. It is well to state beforehand how it comes that the kingship does not necessarily go by immediate descent, and so to make it evident how Macbeth secured the throne; it may be well also to comment briefly on the state of society in which crime was more possible than now; but beyond this the play may be left to tell its own tale.