Publications of the University of Texas Publications Committee: W. J. BATTLE: c. IIARTKA.N E. c. BARKER J. L. IIENOERSON J.M. BRYANT A . C. JUDSON G. c. BUTTE J. A. LoMAX R.H. GRIFFITH The University publishes bulletins six times a month. Thrse comprise the official publications of the University, publica­tions on humanistic and scientific sn bjccts, bulletins prepared by the Department of Extension and by the Burr11n of Thfnnic­ipal Rcs<>arch, and other bulletins of general edncation11l in­terest. With the exception of spcci11l numbers, any bulletin "·ill be sent to a citizen of Texas free on rcrpiest. A11 comm1miC'a­tions about University pnblicntions should be addressed to the Editor of University Publications, University of Texas, Austin. A. C. BALDWIN 6 SONS: AUSTtN B3.51-116-25h BULLETIN OF THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS 1916: No. 63 NOVEMBER 10 1916 THE ENGLISH BULLETIN (Number 3, November, 1916) Published by the University six times a month and entered as second-class matter at the postoffice at AUSTIN, TEXAS The benefits of education and of useful knowledge, generally di:ft'used through a community, are essential to the preservation of a free govern­ment. Sam Houston. Cultivated mind is the guardian genius of democracy. It is the only dictator that freemen ac­knowledge and the only security that freemen desire. President Mirabeau B. Lamar. The English Bulletin (Number 3, November, 1916) Editors: IULLIS CAMPBELL E. M. CLARK L. W. PAYNE, JR. The English Bulletin is intended as an organ for the expression of opinion by teachers of English in Texas concerning pedagogical and other problems that arise in their work. It will appear from one to three times a year. Copies of this bulletin will be sent free, on application, to any teacher of English in Texas. Address The English Bulletin, the University of Texas, Austin, Texas. CONTENTS TEACHING LITERATURE IN THE SECONDARY SCHOOL, by James Finch Royster. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 CONCERNING CORRELATION IN THE TEACIDNG OF ENG­LISH COMPOSITION, by Pauline Belle Warner . . . . . . . . . . . 16 SPELLING IN COLL£GE AND IDGH SCHOOL, by Leonidas Warren Payne, Jr. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 QUESTIONNAIRE FOR ENGLISH TEACHERS IN TEXAS... 39 TEACHING LITERATURE IN THE SECONDARY SCHOOL BY JAMES FINCH ROYSTER, PH. D., PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH, THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS If our secondary schools, in teaching the books they require their pupils to read, are not creating and incl'leasing a desire in their students voluntarily to read good books, they are failing largely in attaining the object they should strive for. The proof of good teaching of literature is the creation of a desire to read more literature. A teacher may, it is true, fail to attain this object and yet render his pupils some service; he may inci­dentally, under the masquerade of literature, teach them some history and a small amount of composition; but history and com­position, as worthy subjects of instruction as they are, are not literature. We do not gain the aim of our efforts in teaching literature, which is, we all glibly agree, the founding and fos­tering of a genuine appreciation of literature, if we do not succeed in getting the appreciation we have founded and fos­ tered put into practice by our students upon their own initia­tive. 'rhe proof of appreciation is the practice of enjoyment. Appreciation is neither stationary nor retrospective; unless it is super-critical, it does not dwell upon one or a few object'l; liking demands more. Criticism of the methods of teaching literature in the sec­ ondary school, on the score that it does not encourage in the pupils a desire to read, is perhaps more plentiful-it surely is more sharp-than the criticism that is directed, in this age of pedagogical inquiry, at the methods of teaching any other subject of the school program. The clearest evidence in sup­ port of the justice of the wide-spread fault-finding with the man­ ner of teaching literature in the schools comes from the pupils themselves; it is in the possession of every college teacher of last year's high school graduates who seeks it; it is recorded in many published confessions of those who have been through the mill of books "for reading and practice" and books "for study and practice.'' The president of one of the publishing firms that profit largely from the sale of "high school classics" re­ peats, with an expressed belief in its truthfulness, the opinion of one of his acquaintances who confided to him "that he at­tributed his antipathy to the reading of good books to having been obliged to read such works [English classics] as a task in the schoolroom. "1 None of the published confessions is bolder than that of the youth who, after he had passed the college entrance examinations in English, told his tutor "that he had read but one book in his life except those required in school or colleg.e; that this was a 'red book' called The Girl and the Bill; that it had taken him all summer to read it; and that he never expected to read another. " 2 This boy who frankly ac­knowledged his restricted travels in the realm of reading may be regarded as an extreme case, but he surely cannot be considered a single case, of the great mass of pupils who are untouched by the instruction in literature they receive in the secondary schools. It is not a statement of fact to say that the students in our schools and the public generally do not r.ead, or to say that they do not read as much as did their forefathers of one or two gen­erations ago. The forefathers of a great many of the pupils in our private and public schools never acquired the art of reading at all. It is unquestionably true that more reading is being done in America now than was ever done in any other country at any time before today. If there were descendants of Wil­liam Shakespeare or of John Milton living now to enjoy the re­turns from an unending copyright, they would be made rich again every year by the enormous sales of the writings of their distinguished ancestors in cheap school editions. In no other age has a fiction-and-essay magazine been sold to two million weekly buyers. The truth is that democratic education in America has made an enormous number of readers: readers who in the schools, under the pressur·e of a task, read some of the highest productions of English literature; and who at home, at their own choice, read a large amount of cheap, sensational printed matter. The gap between this task r·eading and this casual reading is so enormously wide that the conclusion cannot be avoided that the influence of formal school reading upon the choice of informal home reading is extr.emely weak; and that 'The Atiantic Monthly, November, 1914, p. 625. •The North American Review, September, 1916, p. 417. The English Bulletin the schools have done little to connect what literature they teach with what outside--0f-school reading their pupils do while they are under the dominion of the school, and what they will do when they become men and women. For other ends, the schools have neglected the task of making the reading of good books felt to be a pleasure. We shall never advance the object we must have in view­to make the reading our pupils do in school remain with them as a habit in life-unless we put before them reading that is agreeable to the mind and pleasant to the senses. The power of literature to please and to amuse must be prov.ed by example. The teacher himself must honestly believe that literature is mentally and sensuously enjoyable; he must find in literature one of his own unforced joys in life; he must read beyond his class-room texts merely for his own amusement. If he cannot confess this belief and prove this practice, he should be doing something else in life other than professionally and mechanically teaching children "literature." Mere schemes and plans of in­struction will not aid him; manuals of facts about literature will make his teaching more mechanical. Much reading will, how­ever, help him tremendously. If the teacher is able to prove his liking for literature by his practice of reading and by his own efforts at composition, he must publicly force the claim of literature as one of life's highest pleasures; he must force it in the face of other forms of human amusement, lower but very human forms of amusement, with which it must come into competition for obtaining the at­tention and a part of the time of the public. The two most characteristically modern forms of pleasure that compete, all to their own advantage, with the cultivation of the habit of reading good books are the automobile and the moving-picture theatre. We should grant these institutions their proper share in creating for the ordinary mortal an idealized atmosphere for his material world; but we should not avoid the challenge to put forward the bid of good reading for a part of the time of this same movie-loving, automobile-moving ordinary mortal. Those who regret the passing customs of the days of our grand­fathers, when from their non-statistical, sentimental point of view everybody read, must realize that people of two generations ago, as well as those of a hundred generations ago, had splendid means and many manners of wasting their time upon inferior pleasures, and that we of to-day do not possess the exclusive right of the ages in the matter of being frivolous in our amuse­ments. The particular forms that we. in our weakness, have devised for avoiding the use of our minds and for keeping our feelings upon a low plane have, indeed, changed from those of an earlier day: they are conspicuously more rapid imd more nervously jerky. Old-fashioned reading, on the contrary, was a quiet, leisurely habit; old-fashioned books were timed to the speed of the age in which they were written. The most popular modern form of writing is short; if necessity makes a narrative comparatively long, it is furnished the reader in brief install­ments. The average modern reader demands a quick, skim­ming, hilarious rnn over a smooth, well-paved boulevard; he starts with a jump; he ·will endure no turn-outs ; he refuses to look at the scenery; he speaks to no passer-by; he makes di­ rectly for the next village. Let us not make a stupidly uncompromising stand against the reading of journalistic writing. It will be useless. !Jet us rather try to adjust the habits of the pupils we teach between the case of the ephemeral magazine and permanent books. Are we making the best use we could make of the immense army of teachers of literature and the enormously costly machinery we are employing in guiding the public reading habit from its strongly advertised-to, line-of-least-resistance taste up to a taste for good reading ? This service to civilization all of us want to render. Are we, however, encouraging the further reading of worth-while books by teaching the books we are teaching in the way in which we teach them 1 The present practice of teaching literature in the secondary schools has quite generally failed to implant in any large num­ber of their pupils a genuine desire to read good books. The particular part of this practice that is most discouraging is the incessant teaching of the history of literature and the use as a text-book of a manual history of literature, which is full of names, dates, and summary criticism, in place of books that are full of poems, plays, and essays. A text history of litera­ The English Bulletin ture, unless it is used as a companion guide to a good course in reading, is a pedagogical abomination. To the teacher who has read little, and who does not know what to do with the little he has read, it is, of course, a God-send; for it gives this teacher a body of definite facts to work with; he is able to as­sign so many pages to be accurately learned; and on this matter he may set an examination. To define literature positively is almost impossible; to define it negatively is easy: it is not, above all, a cold record of names, dates, and titles. When a student has learned that Walter Scott, of whose works the student has read, at best, Iv·anhoe and selections from Scott's poems, was born in 1771, died in 1832, and wrote a large number of novels, which he knows by title, he has not learned anything about literature. Repetition by a student who has read none of his work of book-made criticism of Matthew Arnold's poetry is worse than useless instruction. Beyond being useless, it is not quite honest to give an opinion about poetry one has not read. The honest thing to do with a poem is to read it, dislike it, or enjoy it. After one has read a poem, one may have an opinion about it with perfect frankness, whether one's opinion is correct or not. Furnishing pupils another's judgment about literature, without giving the pupils a chance to square the thing criticized with the criticism, magnifies the Vi'eight of crit­ical authority and discourages the exercise of independent opin­ion. Interest will not lie where there is no chance for personal opinion to express itself. The history of any school subject should be taught only to students who know something about the subject. It should not be studied independently of the subject. From a course in the history of literature that precedes the reading of much li~erature negative, or positively bad, results follow. It is a pernicious practice to force such a study upon a mass of students who have done no reading at home and little at school. If we do not teach the history of literature, what shall we teach? Some hold the opinion that in literature there is a quality so free, so pleasantly untrammelled, that formal in­struction hinders, rather than helps, grasping its spirit; that it defies definite schoolroom analysis ; that drama and pedagogy are contradictory terms; and that poetry and lesson-plans are polarly separated. Whether this opinion be true or not, there can be no doubt that formalism in instruction in literature is more damaging to the spirit of the subject than it is to that of any other subject we teach. In regard to the harm done by undue formalism, one need not go so far as to accept the whole doctrine of Mr. H. G. Wells to admit a basis of correctness in his protest. Mr. Wells says: "What you organize you kill. Organized morals or organized religion or organized thought are dead morals and dead religion and dead thought. Priests and schoolmasters and bureaucrats get hold of life, and try to make it all rules, all etiquette and regulation and cor­rectitude. " 1 The name under which organization is no"" best known is efficiency, the most popular catch-word of the day. It is in art and literature that the last refuge of protest against this fetish of the time is found. And now thoroughly forma­lized instruction in Werature, moving against the spirit of the thing it is attempting to teach, is too frequently striving, be­yond any other aim, to make instruction in literature efficient­ efficient and not stimulating. efficient and not pleasant, efficient and not encouraging. Literature is the expression of man's search for his place in creation. A writer tries to turn your thought or to ply your emotion by his record of his clash with existence. He may ex~ press, in a lyric poem, the impression he receives from the con­flict in the temporary mood of a single moment; his completely thought-out attitude toward life in an essay; he may represent, in a novel or drama, his keenly felt sensations rising from the shock of life throul!h the persons of created characters who, in his imagination, pass through crises that lead to happiness or to sorrow. ''Relate literature to life'' indeed! The familiar phrase is weak; literature is life! From the fact that it is life springs a great part of the difficulty of teaching literature; for it is no easy task to call people who are sequestered in the commonplace securities of life to a feeling above that plane of existence; to a feeling for the mystery of existence, for the ir­ 'Mr. Britling Sees It Through, pp. 60-61. The English Bulletin responsible hilariousness of being alive; or to the unmotived sad­ness of the world. Poets and dramatists who write the deepest record of life do not live the average life, and do not think the average thoughts; their appeals are not so obvious and so gross as the appeals of ordinary human intercourse, and are not universally felt. But the big lump of mortality has a spark of ideality that may be made to glow by incessant fanning. Fanning the fiame, leading students from a twenty-four-hour­the-day commonplace contemplation of life that ltas n<• time for beauty and truth-this is the task of the teacher of literature. This task he cannot, of course, perform if he is uot enthusiasti­cally interested in living, and if he is not of suffi.eirut s<:rrnitive­ne.'is of nature to receive sensations from his own conflict with life beyond the vulgar pleasures of material existence. The spirit qualities of the man who is teaching literattin· are, after all, of greater account than matter and method. Feeling, fine­ness, understanding enthusiasm, intense interest founded upon knowledge, are worth more than courses in methods, patented schemes of instruction, or college degrees. The man's the thing. Although personality does not make up for lack of knowledge, there is no good reason why the teacher with a catching interest in the subject he is teaching may not h1ow as much about it as does the mechanical laborer after mere facts. We should always be careful, too, not to mistake displayl'ul sentimentality for· personality; and we should always disting-uish between the hollowness and ineptitude of that sort of tea('.bin~ which, in assumed ecstasy, fulfils its whole service by such oft. repeated comment as "Ah, see the beautiful line!" and the genuine feeling of real appreciation. Condemnation of the af­fected and stagey does not mean, however, that a teacher shall be so modest that he will refrain from showing with spirit his own likes and dislikes, and that he will keep the expression of his appreciation for his own closet. A teacher's enthusiasm for the beautiful must lead others to a dislike of the ugly; insistent exhibition of the sincere, the simple, the harmonious, the heart­felt must raise in many who witness the exhibition a continually growing repugnance to the affected, the crude, the commonplace, the sentimental. Taste is habit ; habit can be formed but by imitation and practice. Bulletin of the University of Texas If liking and taste for literature are to be formed, there must be found in the material used for teaching literature a common ground for the young, unformed tastes of the pupils and the older, developed tastes of the teacher. There is grave question as to whether or not many of the books suggested for use by the college entrance examination lists are well selected for attaining the object of arousing a liking for reading. An honest and pragmatic way of answering the question as to the fitness of some of the books in this list is to go beyond the pupils and to ask the teacher if he reads, or if he would read had he the time, these books for his own pleasure. Does he spend his spare time in reading Milton ? Did he at any time in his life do so 1 Frankly, many of these universally used books cannot be made, even by good teaching, fascinatingly interesting to immature boys and girls. The gap between their ideality, between their learning, and the plane of life to which the usual indiscriminate­ly assembled high school group is accustomed is too great easily to be bridged even by excellent teaching. Milton did not address his poems to youths of sixteen with no Latin and Greek train­ing, who cannot, with interesting exceptions, wholly enjoy his praise of the reasonably temperate life and the brooding joys of the contemplative man. Too precious stones may be cast before the very youthful. Even the well-educated teacher finds difficulty in making many of the high school reading requirements incentives for further reading. The case is worse when these books are put into the hands of rule-of-thumb teachers who devote most of their ener­gies to furnishing information, obtained from introductions to the text or from other helpful sources, that sets up a ''back­ground of appreciation"; that supplies a biography of the author and a picture of his age; that presents a formal analysis of the characters and the plot or the argument, and a definition of the literary form. Such instruction has a very worthy place as instruction in history, biography, and logical analysis. But usually the spirit, the feeling, the thought fly out of the house of facts. The student who has passed an examination that is set to test his knowledge in regard to the external facts of a poem usually feels that he has successfully solved a puzzle, which is, indeed, a high form of intellectual pleasure, but The English Bulletin it is not an artistic satisfaction. The student may have, fur­thermore, solved the puzzle without having read the book. He may have taken the advice given several years ago by a well-known tutor of his day to a younger tutor: ''In preparing students [for college entrance examinations] never allow them to read the books. It merely confuses them and wastes time. Coach them carefully in the plot of each book and the names of the characters ; and make them learn by heart, with exact attention to the spelling and the paragraphing, several short compositions on each book. Then they will be sure to pass.'' Many of the books in the high school list, one must admit, have only a historical interest. Many of them are intellectually too deep or spiritually too subtle for young and indiscriminately collected students. Literature is, after all, selective. We cannot force it. We must prepare for it. In the school course of our day no care for a reasonable approach to the big things in litera­ture is taken, and students too frequently find themselves suddenly over their literary depth. A natural method of introduction to the great past of literature is an acquaintance with the worth­while writing of our own time. Getting students interested in present-day literature is a comparatively easy task. The average person is more interested in the politics, the social conditions, and the thought of his own day, whether they are superior or inferior to these manifestations of life in other ages, than he is in the politics, the social conditions, and the thought of any other time. It is only the antiquarian spirit of every age that is not interested in the life and writing of its period, and that neglects it because it is different from the life and the writing of the golden ages. Scholasticism upholds the doctrine of com­parative excellence to the point of complete exclusion of the present; but it offers no good reason why, rather than allowing the legitimate curiosity of beings who are alive to the expression of their own world to run to seed in mere journalistic writing, we should not turn it to a consideration of the books that try to interpret modern life; why we should not seize the concern of to-day for to-day, direct it, and convert it into good. The an­swer of scholasticism-read only authors who are dead !-is too Bulletin of the University of Texas nearly a flaunting protest against the present; it not only ignores the present, but it teaches by implication and by lack of example the doctrine that the day of the making of literature is over. Especially the young student should be made to feel that art is a living thing, that its expression has not ceased, and that all of its examples do not lie on the far side of the river of death. The contrary view is a disheartening doctrine, which is partly responsible for the lack of interest in any sort of literature, past or present, among those who go out of our schools. Objections to offering compositions by living writers to living students are frequently heard. One of the most common is that present-day writing cannot be estimated. If one cannot say that a poem is a good poem or a bad poem, whether it was writ. ten in 1635 or in 1916,