EVERYDAY CLASSICS

EIGHTH BOOK

WHAT IS LITERATURE

Literature goes back to the dawn of civilization. As soon as men learned to talk and to live together in family and tribe, they began to make literature. They made songs to express their deepest feelings, as those of love, of victory, or of worship. They told of their deeds in stories. 5 They gathered sayings of wisdom and religion and made rituals and laws which their wise men memorized. In thus expressing their own thoughts, feelings, and deeds, they were seeking to reach the sympathies and emotions of their fellows.

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The songs and stories and wise sayings that were remembered soon became a common bond of union among those who knew and enjoyed them. They were handed down from one generation to another, and spread from one tribe to many. They expressed common emotions and 15 ideas, or they told of deeds which had a common interest. Whatever most impressed men and seemed to them the truest record of their experience was most likely to be treasured. In this way literature became the expression of what was best and most worthy to survive in life.

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At first all literature was spoken or sung, and preserved only in the memory. The invention of writing and later that of printing vastly increased the power of one man's imagination to reach and stir the sympathies and feelings 5 of many. The sway of literature has gone on growing and spreading with the progress of civilization. It has reflected the changes of the centuries and the differences among nations and languages; yet it remains much the same from generation to generation and from people to people. 10 For human nature, which literature expresses, remains much the same. You feel as do your schoolmates, and they have the same feeling about their lessons as boys and girls experienced who studied grammar and arithmetic two thousand years ago under some Greek master. The story 15 of a brave fight waged with spear or javelin may still hearten our soldiers who strive for victory with other weapons. The songs sung by Egyptian queens or slaves to their children were not unlike those that mothers sing to-day, for the love which they all express is the same.

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When literature was young, most of it was written in verse; that is, words arranged in a regular rhythm, easy to sing, recite, or remember. After a time prose seemed more suitable to the clear expression of many ideas; and with the spread of books and education the larger part of 25 literature has come to be written in prose. In both verse and prose, certain divisions or classes were early recognized. Narrative, for example, was the name given to stories, or literature telling of action. Lyric, the name given to songs, came to be applied to all short poems ex

pressing emotion. Drama was the name for a story to be acted and written in the form of the speeches of the actors. Epic, oration, hymn, description, history, are a few of the many other divisions. Although the likeness within each of these classes is marked, there are also innumerable dif- 5 ferences. After all, each book or poem is the work of one person, its author; and although it be read by many, it invites fresh appreciation from each new reader.

In this book we are to study some of the great masterpieces of the literature of the past. In its opening pages, 10 we shall look at examples of different kinds, of narrative, lyric, description, and drama, some in verse and some in prose. In studying these, we must remember that the responsive reader repeats for himself something of the experience of the author who created the poem or the story. 15 He has stirred in us his own sympathies and fancies. We share with him the pleasure of seeing part of life's experience transformed into memorable words. This is a pleasure and it is also a part of education. For literature opens to us knowledge and experience, it gives us a chance to train 20 mind and heart by association with the best that men have thought or imagined.

LOCHINVAR

Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.

5 So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone,
He swam the Eske River where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate

10 The bride had consented, the gallant came late:
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall

Among bridesmen and kinsmen and brothers and all: 15 Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), "Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"

"I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ; — 20 Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.

There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."

The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up;
He quaffed of the wine, and he threw down the cup.
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar, —
"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form, and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume,
And the bridemaidens whispered, ""Twere better by far
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar."

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood

near;

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,

So light to the saddle before her he sprung!

"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochin

var.

There was mounting 'mong Græmes of the Netherby clan;
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran :
There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie Lee,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.