Part 9 (1/2)
”Think me not unkind and rude That I walk alone in grove and glen; I go to the G.o.d of the wood To fetch his word to men.”
And Lowell, in ”The Bobolink”:--
”As long, long years ago I wandered, I seem to wander even yet.
The hours the idle schoolboy squandered, The man would die ere he'd forget.
O hours that frosty eld deemed wasted, Nodding his gray head toward my books, I dearer prize the lore I tasted With you, among the trees and brooks, Than all that I have gained since then From learned books or study-withered men.”
And Whittier says:--
”Our uncle, innocent of books, Was rich in lore of fields and brooks, The ancient teachers never dumb Of Nature's unhoused lyceum.”
It would not be difficult to recall other pa.s.sages from Bryant, Shakespeare, Byron, and many others, expressing this love of solitude in woods or on the seash.o.r.e, and the wisdom to be gained from such communion with nature. This active retrospect to gather up kindred thoughts out of previous studies and mingle them with the newer influx of radiant ideas from master minds is a fruitful mode of a.s.similating and compounding knowledge. It may be advisable at times for the teacher to bring together a few additional pa.s.sages from still wider sources, expressive of a thought kindred to that worked out in the cla.s.s. Such study leads to a self-reliant, enthusiastic companions.h.i.+p with the thoughts of great men, and is most profitable.
4. There is a p.r.o.nounced value in dramatic representation of literary selections. The impersonating of characters gives an intensity and realism to the thought that cannot be effected in any other way. In some cases it is possible to provide a stage and some degree of costuming, to lend more complete realization of the scenes.
In favor of such dramatic efforts it may be said that children, even in the earlier grades, are naturally dramatic, and enjoy greatly both seeing and partic.i.p.ating in them. It gives scope to their natural tendency toward action, rather than repose, and proper verbal expression is more easily secured in conjunction with action than without it. In this connection it may be said that acting lends greater freedom and spontaneity to the reading.
Schlegel, in his description of dramatic art, says:--
”Even in a lively oral narration, it is not unusual to introduce persons in conversation with each other, and to give a corresponding variety to the tone and the expression. But the gaps, which these conversations leave in the story, the narrator fills up in his own name with a description of the accompanying circ.u.mstances, and other particulars.
The dramatic poet must renounce all such expedients; but for this he is richly recompensed in the following invention. He requires each of the characters in his story to be personated by a living individual; that this individual should, in s.e.x, age, and figure, meet as near as may be the prevalent conceptions of his fict.i.tious original, nay, a.s.sume his entire personality; that every speech should be delivered in a suitable tone of voice, and accompanied by appropriate action and gesture; and that those external circ.u.mstances should be added which are necessary to give the hearers a clear idea of what is going forward. Moreover, these representatives of the creatures of his imagination must appear in the costume belonging to their a.s.sumed rank, and to their age and country; partly for the sake of greater resemblance, and partly because, even in dress, there is something characteristic. Lastly, he must see them placed in a locality which, in some degree, resembles that where, according to his fable, the action took place, because this also contributes to the resemblance: he places them, _i.e._, on a scene. All this brings us to the idea of the theatre. It is evident that the very form of dramatic poetry, that is, the exhibition of an action by dialogue without the aid of narrative, implies the theatre as its necessary complement.”
”The invention of dramatic art, and of the theatre, seems a very obvious and natural one. Man has a great disposition to mimicry; when he enters vividly into the situation, sentiments, and pa.s.sions of others, he involuntarily puts on a resemblance to them in his gestures. Children are perpetually going out of themselves; it is one of their chief amus.e.m.e.nts to represent those grown people whom they have had an opportunity of observing, or whatever strikes their fancy; and with the happy pliancy of their imagination, they can exhibit all the characteristics of any dignity they may choose to a.s.sume, be it that of a father, a schoolmaster, or a king.”
In his book, ”Imagination and Dramatic Instinct,” S. S. Curry says:--
”Since dramatic instinct is so important, the question naturally arises respecting the use of dialogues for its education. There are those who think that all histrionic art is useless; that it is even deleterious to character to a.s.sume a part.
”The best answer to this is the study of the little child. The very first means a child adopts to get out of itself, or to realize the great world about it, is by dramatic action and instinct. No child was ever born with any mind at all, that had not some of this instinct; and the more promising the child, the more is it dramatic and imaginative.
Dramatic instinct is universal. It is the secret of all success; it is the instinct by which man sees things from different points of view, by which he realizes the ideal in character in contrast to that which is not ideal.”
”Professor Monroe was once asked by a clergyman for private lessons. He told him that was impossible. 'Well,' said the minister, 'what can I do then?' 'Go home and read Shakespeare dramatically.' Why was such advice given? Because the struggle to read Shakespeare would get the minister out of himself. The struggle to realize how men of different types of character would speak certain things would make him conscious whether he, himself, spoke naturally. He would, in short, become aware of his mannerisms, of his narrow gamut of emotions, his sameness of point of view; he would be brought into direct contact with the process of his own mind in thinking.”
The supreme value of a vivid and versatile imagination in giving full and rich development to the whole mind is now a vital part of our confession of faith. The question is how to cultivate such a resourceful imagination. The literature of the creative imagination is felt to be the chief means, and the dramatic instinct toward interpreting, a.s.similating and expressing human thought and feeling opens the avenue of growth.
Dr. Curry says:--
”Dramatic instinct should be trained because it is a part of the imagination, because it gives us practical steps toward the development of the imagination, because it is the means of securing discipline and power over feeling. Dramatic instinct should be trained because it is the insight of one mind into another. The man who has killed his dramatic instinct has become unsympathetic, and can never appreciate any one's point of view but his own. Dramatic instinct endows us with broad conceptions of the idiosyncrasies, beliefs, and convictions of men. It trains us to unconscious reasoning, to a deep insight into the motives of man. It is universally felt that one's power to 'other himself' is the measure of the greatness of his personality. All sympathy, all union of ourselves with the ideals and struggles of our race, are traceable to imagination and dramatic instinct.”
He further emphasizes the idea that dramatic instinct has two elements--imagination and sympathy. ”Imagination affords insight into character; sympathy enables us to identify ourselves with it.” ”Together they form the chief elements of altruism. They redeem the mind from narrowness and selfishness; they enable the individual to appreciate the point of view, the feelings, motives, and characters of his fellow-men; they open his eyes to read the various languages of human art; they enable him to commune with his kind on a higher plane than that of commonplace facts; they lift him into communion with the art and spirit of every age and nation. Without their development man is excluded from the highest enjoyment, the highest communion with his kind, and from the highest success in every walk of life.”
Dramatization is the only means by which we can bring the reading work of the school to its full and natural expression. The action involved in it predisposes the mind to full and natural utterance. The fulfilment of all the dramatic conditions lends an impetus and genuineness to every word that is spoken. It has been often observed that boys and girls whose reading is somewhat expressionless become direct and forcible when taking a part in a dialogue or dramatic action. It would be almost farcical not to put force and meaning into the words when all the other elements of action and realism are present.
Educational progress is everywhere exerting a distinct pressure at those points where greater realism, deeper absorption in actualities, is possible. This is the significance of outdoor excursions, of experiments, laboratories, and object work in nature study. In geography and history it is the purpose of pictures, vivid descriptions, biographical stories, and the accounts of eye-witnesses and real travellers, etc.
In literature we possess, embodied in striking concrete personalities, many of the most forcible ideas that men have conceived and dealt with in the history of the world. It is very desirable that children should become themselves the vehicles for the expression of these ideas. The school is the place where children should become the embodiment of ideas. It would be a grand and not impractical scheme of education to propose to make the school a place where each child, in a well-chosen succession, should be allowed to impersonate and become the embodiment of the constructive ideas of our civilization.
We reason much concerning the educative value of carpentry, of the various forms of manual skill in wood and iron, of weaving, gardening, and cooking, of the work of shoemaker, basket-maker, and potter, and of the educative value of these constructive activities; for the purposes of universal education, is it not of equal importance that children become skilled in the histrionic art, in the apt interpretation and expression of good manners, in that deeper social insight and versatile tact which are the constructive elements in conduct? Or, putting it in a more obvious form, is it any more important for a person to know how to construct a bookcase or even a steam-engine, than to shape his speech or conduct skilfully in meeting a board of education or a business manager.
It is not the purpose of the school to educate players or public readers, any more than to train carpenters or machinists. But the reading exercises in school should culminate in the ability to sympathetically interpret a considerable variety of human life and character as presented in our best literature. Modern educators, however, are not satisfied, in any important study, with theoretical knowledge derived from books. They demand that knowledge shall pa.s.s over into some sort of practice and use. Reading pa.s.ses naturally and without a break from the interpretation of life to its embodiment in conduct. In this important respect it is the most practical of all studies. Its subject matter, derived from literature, consists largely of an interesting variety of typical and artistically beautiful character delineations from the hands of the supreme master of this art. Dramatic representation is the last and indispensable step in the art of reading; and the interest that naturally attaches to it, from early childhood up through all the stages of growth, removes one chief obstacle to its introduction.
Keeping in mind that wisdom, skill, and versatility in conduct are the natural and appropriate outcome of successful dramatic representation, it is not at all extravagant to say that the average child will have far more use for this result, both now and in all the vicissitudes of later life, than for skill in carpentry, or ironwork, or weaving, etc.