class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg 25]"/> and of hints for the further development of the story, that it is difficult for a young reader, urged on by his interest in the plot, to stop long enough to grasp all the essential features. So many important lessons for the beginner may be drawn from the structure of this book, from its teaching, and from its representation of life, that it especially repays thorough study.

III. Study of the Book as a Whole

Setting and Situation.—What means does the author take in Chapters I and III to acquaint us with the time of the story? How definitely can you fix it? (See p. 47, l. 22.)

What sort of place was Lantern Yard? Describe the people who worshiped there. What was their social life? Why was their church called a chapel?

Compare this place, where Silas first lived, with Raveloe in respect to location, people, religious beliefs, wealth, social life, etc.

Although Raveloe is not on the map, in what part of England is it supposed to be?

Do the descriptions, for example, of the company at the Rainbow or of the party at the Red House, seem like caricatures or like pictures from real life? Give reasons.

Has the author been true to the life of a certain place and time? (See Introduction, p. 34.) Is the setting closely interwoven with the story, or could the scene have been changed without loss of interest to New England, or to some other place, fifty or a hundred years later? Give reasons.

Plot.—Make a list of the most important scenes (seven or eight in all), note the train of incidents that leads to each, and the suggestions in each that prepare us for the further development of the story. Show that there are two distinct stories separately introduced, but finally woven together.

Note in what places these distinct stories touch each other and how they are knitted together. In the arrangement of the scenes is there any attempt at contrast? (See Introduction, p. 40.) Are any of them merely episodes that might be omitted without loss to the story? Most of the scenes mark a climax. Is there any one scene so interesting and important by reason of the characters brought together and the facts unfolded that we may call it the climax of the story?

Is there unity in the plot?

What use is made of Marner's cataleptic fits in the development of the plot?

How are we prepared for the explanation of the mystery of the lost gold? (See p. 94, ll. 24-29; p. 97, ll. 17-20; p. 241, l. 29; p. 242, l. 3; p. 268, ll. 3-21.)

Why does the author cause Marner to go back to Lantern Yard and fail to learn anything of his former friends and the results of their injustice?

How many of the principal characters are brought into the last chapter?

Is what is said of them, and what they say themselves, characteristic?

Has the scene any beauty in itself?

Sum up the features that make it a fitting conclusion.

Characters.—From what classes of society does the author take her characters? Is she equally successful in dealing with the different classes?

Contrast Nancy and Priscilla. Which is the more interesting? Why?

Trace the changes that take place in the characters of Silas Marner and Godfrey Cass.

Do the other characters change too, or are they essentially the same throughout the story?

Do you think Marner's sudden loss of faith seems probable in view of his religious devotion?

What is the significance of the Sally Oates incident (p. 65) in Marner's life?

What effect did the gold have upon him? Contrast this with the influence of Eppie.

In the development of Marner's character, what is the significance of the scene at the Rainbow when Marner tells his neighbors of the loss of his gold?

What sort of man was Godfrey at the beginning of the story? Was there any excuse for him in his lack of manliness? State the struggle going on within him the night before he told his father about taking Fowler's money. What was the effect on him of telling only a little of his secret? Why did he at last tell Nancy all? What was his punishment?

Interpretation.—What idea does the development of Silas Marner's character illustrate?

Does the author's devotion to this idea mar at all your interest in the book as a story?

What truth does Godfrey Cass's life illustrate?

What satire do you find on people or customs?

Method of Narration.—Who tells the story?

Could the author have made one of the characters tell the story just as well? Give reasons.

Does the narrator write as though in some mysterious way she knew all about the characters, or does she write only what she might have seen and heard?

To what extent does she use dialogue?

How do we become acquainted with the characters?

Find several passages where the author interrupts the flow of her story to make explanations for our benefit (for example, pp. 100-101).

Style.—Does the author use the language of her own time?

To what extent does she make use of dialect?

Is the language of the characters consistent with the author's description of them? Note the difference in choice of words and grace of expression when the author speaks in her own person, and when she speaks through the mouth of one of her characters.

Find passages that express humor (pp. 201-203), pathos (pp. 67-69), satire (pp. 184-185).

The Life and Character of the Author.—What do we know of George Eliot's early home? education? religious experiences? life while manager of the house at Griff? life at Coventry? early literary work? first attempt at novel writing? success as a novelist?

Would you judge from this book that she was fond of social life? simple country life? animals? children? books? Give your reasons.

How do you suppose she knew how to describe the horse sale? the evening at the Rainbow?

Comparison.—Is our interest in this book chiefly in the setting? in the plot? in the characters? in the idea? in the style? or in all of these factors equally?

Compare Silas Marner in these five particulars with Ivanhoe and with The Vicar of Wakefield.

II. THE TEACHING OF NARRATIVE POETRY

Much has been said, and said with force, about the impossibility of teaching literature. But while many believe that certain kinds of literature can be taught with marked success, they are apt to feel the force of the above contention when they attempt to teach poetry.

It is, of course, comparatively easy to make clear the main idea of a poem, the facts of the plot, the details of the setting, and the characteristics of the actors; but the score of artistic touches that make the poem great cannot be taught, any more than can the beauty of a flower. To be sure, some pupils may appreciate these touches, and appreciate them because of the instruction they receive, but, on the other hand, others never will in spite of all aid and encouragement. It should not for a moment be forgotten, however, that the matters that can be taught are by no means inconsiderable. The language must often be explained; the thought, buried in involved sentences, must be simplified; and the unfamiliar or abstract ideas must be illuminated by illustration. There are doubtless some ideas in poetry that cannot be explained in words, but most of the obstacles that pupils meet with may