(2) a power to appeal to the imagination;

(3) a basis of truth; and

(4) a form more or less perfect.

(1) A power to appeal to the emotions. This appeal to the emotions is its unique distinguishing literary trait. Literature appeals, not to the personal emotions but to the universal ones. For this reason, through literature the child may come in time to develop a power of universal sympathy, which is not the least value literature has to bestow upon him, for this sympathy will become a benediction to all those with whom he may have to deal. In order that emotion in the tales may be literary--make a permanent appeal--according to Professor Winchester's standards, it must have justness given by a deep and worthy cause; vividness so that it may enlarge and thrill; a certain steadiness produced by everything in the tale contributing to the main emotion; a variety resulting from contrasts of character; and a high quality obtained through its sympathy with life and its relation to the conduct of life, so that the feeling for the material beauty of mere sights and sounds is closely related to the deepest suggestions of moral beauty. The best literary tales will possess emotion having all five characteristics. Many tales will exhibit one or more of these traits conspicuously. No tale that is literature will be found which does not lay claim to some one of these qualities which appeal to the broadly human emotions.

Applying the test of emotion to fairy tales, _Cinderella_ possesses a just emotion, Cinderella's cause is the cause of goodness and kindness and love, and deserves a just reward. _The Town Musicians of Bremen_ exhibits vivid emotion, for all four characters are in the same desperate danger of losing life, all four unite to save it, and to find a home. Andersen's _Steadfast Tin Soldier_ is a good example of steadiness of emotion, as it maintains throughout its message of courage. The Tin Soldier remained steadfast, whether on the table just escaped from the toy-box, or in the street after a frightful fall from the window, or spinning in a paper boat that bobbed, or sailing under the crossing, or lying at full length within the fish that swallowed him, or at last melting in the full glare of the hearth fire. It is a very good example, too, of vividness of emotion. _The Little Elves_ ill.u.s.trates steadiness of emotion, it is pervaded by the one feeling, that industry deserves reward. The French tale, _Drakesbill_, is especially delightful and humorous because "Bill Drake" perseveres in his happy, fresh vivacity, at the end of every rebuff of fortune, and triumphantly continues his one cry of, "Quack, quack, quack! When shall I get my money back?" _Lambikin_ leaves the one distinct impression of light gaiety and happy-heartedness; and _The Foolish, Timid Rabbit_ preserves steadily the one effect of the credulity of the animals, made all the more prominent by contrast to the wisdom of the Lion. Variety of emotion appears in tales such as _Cinderella, Little Two-Eyes, Sleeping Beauty_, and _Three Pigs_, where the various characters are drawn distinctly and their contrasting traits produce varied emotional effects. All the great fairy tales appeal to emotion of a high moral quality and it is this which is the source of their universal appeal. It is this high moral quality of the spiritual truth, which is the center of the tale's unity, holding together all the parts under one emotional theme. This is the source of the perennial freshness of the old tale; for while the immortal truth it presents is old, the personality of the child that meets it is new.

For the child, the tale is new because he discovers in it a bit of himself he had not known before, and it retains for him a lasting charm so that he longs to hear it again and again. The beauty of truth, the reward of goodness, and the duty of fairness, give a high emotional quality to _Little Two-Eyes_; and _Sleeping Beauty_ ill.u.s.trates the blighting power of hatred to impose a curse and the saving power of love to overcome the works of hatred.

Considering folk-tales from the standpoint of emotion, if asked to suggest what author's work would rank in the same cla.s.s, one is rather surprised to find, that for high moral quality, variety, and worthy cause, the author who comes to mind is none other than Shakespeare.

Perhaps, with all due respect to literature's idol, one might even venture to question which receives honor by the comparison, Shakespeare or the folk-tales? It might be rather a pleasant task to discover who is the Cordelia, the Oth.e.l.lo, the Rosalind, and the Portia of the folk-tales; or who the Beauty, the Bluebeard, the Cinderella, the Puss-in-Boots, and the Hop-o'-my-Thumb, of Shakespeare.

The little child is open to emotional appeal, his heart is tender and he is impressionable. If he feels with the characters in his tales he develops a power of emotion. In Andersen's _Snow Man_ it is hard to say which seems more human to him or which makes more of an emotional appeal, the Snow Man or the Dog. He is sorry for the poor Shoemaker in _The Little Elves_, glad when he grows rich, delighted for the Elves when they receive their presents, and satisfied at the happy end.

Since literature depicts life and character in order to awaken n.o.ble emotions, it follows that one must omit to present what awakens repulsive or degrading emotions. And it is for this reason, as has been mentioned under the heading "Elements to be avoided," that the tales of the witch and the dragon must be excluded, not for all time, but for the earliest years, when they awaken horror.

Through fairy tales we have seen that the emotional power of the child is strengthened. This has been effected because, in the tale just as truly as in life, action is presented in real situations; and back of every action is the motive force of emotion. This c.u.mulative power of emotion, secured by the child through the handling of tales, will serve daily a present need. It will be the dynamic force which he will require for anything he wishes to accomplish in life. It will give the child the ability to use it in any situation similar to that in which it was acquired. It will make a difference in his speech; he will not have to say so much, for what he does say will produce results. This growing power of emotion will carry over into feelings of relation and thus lead to judgment of values. This evaluation is the basis of reasoning and answers to the child's daily call to think from causes to consequences. This increasing power of emotion develops into the aesthetic sensibilities and so results in a cultivation of taste and an understanding of life. Emotion therefore leads to appreciation, which, when logically developed, becomes expression. Fairy tales, thus, in conducting emotional capacity through this varied growth and toward this high development, hold an educational value of no mean order.

(2) The power to appeal to the imagination. Emotion can be aroused by showing the objects which excite emotion. Imagination is this power to see and show things in the concrete. Curry says, "Whenever the soul comes vividly in contact with any fact, truth, etc., whenever it takes them home to itself with more than common intensity, out of that meeting of the soul and its object there arises a thrill of joy, a glow of feeling. It is the faculty that can create ideal presence."

When through imagination we select spontaneously from the elements of experience and combine into new wholes, we call it creative imagination.--The creative imagination will be viewed here as it appears in action in the creative return given by the child to his fairy tales.--When we emphasize a similarity seen in mere external or accidental relations or follow suggestions not of an essential nature in the object, we call it fancy. Ruskin, in his _Modern Painters_, vol. I, part III, _Of the Imaginative Faculty_, would distinguish three cla.s.ses of the imagination:--

(a) _The a.s.sociative imagination_. This is the power of imagination by which we call into a.s.sociation other images that tend to produce the same or allied emotion. When this a.s.sociation has no common ground of emotion it is fancy. The test for the a.s.sociative imagination, which has the power to combine ideas to form a conception, is that if one part is taken away the rest of the combination goes to pieces. It requires intense simplicity, harmony, and absolute truth. Andersen's _Fairy Tales_ are a perfect drill for the a.s.sociative imagination.

Literature parallels life and what is presented calls up individual experience. Any child will feel a thrill of kinship with the experiences given in _The Tin Soldier_--a little boy's birthday, the opening of the box, the counting of the soldiers, and the setting of them upon the table. And because here Andersen has transformed this usual experience with a vivacity and charm, the tale ranks high as a tale of imagination. _Little Ida's Flowers_ and _Thumbelina_ are tales of pure fancy. Grimm's _The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean_ and _The Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle_ rank in the same cla.s.s, as also do the Norse _The Doll i' the Gra.s.s_ and the English _Tom Thumb_.

(b) _The penetrative imagination_. This power of imagination shows the real character of a thing and describes it by its spiritual effects.

It sees the heart and inner nature of things. Through fancy the child cannot reach this central viewpoint since fancy deals only with externals. Through the exercise of this power the child develops insight, intuition, and a perception of spiritual values, and gains a love of the ideal truth and a perpetual thirst for it. He develops genuineness, one of the chief virtues of originality. He will tend not to have respect for sayings or opinions but will seek the truth, be governed by its laws, and hold a pa.s.sion for perfection. This power of imagination makes of him a continual seeker, "a pilgrim upon earth."

Through the penetrative imagination the child forgets himself and enters into the things about him, into the doings of Three Pigs or the adventures of Henny Penny.

(c) _The contemplative imagination_. This is that special phase of the imagination that gives to abstract being consistency and reality.

Through the contemplative imagination the child gains the significance of meaning and discerns the true message of the tale. When merely external resemblance is caught, when the likeness is forced, and the image created believed in, we have fancy. The contemplative imagination interprets the past in the tale and relates it to the future. It shows what is felt by indicating some aspect of what is seen. Through the exercise of this power the child develops the capacity to see. This capacity has received a high estimate from Ruskin, who said, "Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, thousands can think for one who can see." For language-training the capacity to see gives that ability to image words which results in mental growth.

The labor of the spirit seeking the full message of the fairy tale, often is rewarded with bits of philosophy which are the essence of its personal wisdom. Even the Woman Suffragists of our day might be amused to find, in _The Cat and Mouse in Partnership_, this side-light on one of their claims. The Mouse said she did not know what to think of the curious names, Top-off, Half-Out, and All-Out, which the Cat had chosen. To which the Cat replied, "That is because you always stay at home. You sit here in your soft gray coat and long tail, and these foolish whims get into your head. It is always the way when one does not go out in the daytime." Sometimes the philosophy of the tale is expressed not at all directly. This is the case in Andersen's _The Emperor's New Suit_, a gem in story-telling art--more suited to the second grade--where the purpose of the story is veiled, and the satire or humor is conveyed through a very telling word or two.--"'I will send my _old, honest_ minister to the weavers,' thought the Emperor.

And the old, honest minister went to the room where the two swindlers sat working at empty looms. 'Heaven preserve me!' thought the old minister, opening his eyes wide. 'Why, I cannot see anything!'--But he did not say so." The entire tale is a concrete representation of one point; and the concreteness is so explicit that at the close of the story its philosophy easily forms itself into the implied message of worldly wisdom: People are afraid to speak truth concerning much through cowardice or through fear of acting otherwise than all the world. The philosophy underlying _The Steadfast Tin Soldier_ is even finer as a bit of truth than the perfect art of the literary story: That what happens in life does not matter so much as the way you take it. The Tin Soldier always remained steadfast, no matter what happened. Kipling's _Elephant's Child_ is more charming than ever when looked at from the standpoint of its philosophy. It might be interpreted as an allegory answering the question, "How should one get experience?" a theme which cannot be said to lack universal appeal.

_The Ugly Duckling_ is full of sayings of philosophy that contribute to its complete message. The Cat and the Hen to whom the duckling crept for refuge said, "We and the world," and could not bear a difference of opinion. "You may believe me," said the Hen, "because I tell you the truth. That is the way to tell your friends." Their treatment of the Duckling expressed the philosophy: "If you can't do what I can you're no good." The Hen said to him, "You have nothing to do, that's why you have such strange ideas." The Duckling expressed his philosophy by saying quietly, "You don't understand me."

These bits of philosophy often become compressed into expressions which to-day we recognize as proverbs. The words of the Mother Duck, "Into the water he goes if I have to kick him in," became a Scandinavian proverb. "A little bird told it," a common saying of to-day, appears in Andersen's _Nightingale_ and in _Thumbelina_. But this saying is traceable at least to the third story of the fourth night in Straparola, translated by Keightley, _The Dancing Water, the Singing Apple, and the Beautiful Green Bird_, in which the bird tells the King that his three guests are his own children. "Even a cat may look at a king," is probably traceable to some fairy tale if not to _Puss-in-Boots_. The philosophy in the fairy tales and the proverbs that have arisen in them, are subjects which offer to the adult much pleasure and fruitfulness.

But one must ask, "Does this philosophy appeal to the child? Is it not adult wisdom foreign to his immaturity?" The old folk-tales are the products of adult minds; but the adults were grown-ups that looked upon the world with the eyes of children, and their philosophy often was the philosophy of childhood. For childhood has its philosophy; but because it meets with repression on so many sides it usually keeps it to itself. When given freedom and self-activity and self-expression, the child's philosophy appears also. And it is the inner truth of the tale rather than the outer forms of sense and shapes of beauty which, when suited to the little child, appeals to this child-philosophy and makes the deepest impression upon him.

In the literary fairy tale there often appears a philosophy which is didactic and above and beyond the child's knowledge of the world. It remains a question how much this adult philosophy appeals to him.

Although his tales were written for his grandchildren, so finished a telling of the tale as we find in Laboulaye, with its delightful hits of satire, appeals more to the grown-up versed in the ways of the world. But the sage remarks of worldly wisdom of Uncle Remus could not fail to impress a little boy: "Go where you will and when you may, and stay long ez you choosen ter stay, en right dar en den you'll sholy fin' dat folks what git full er consate en proudness is gwine ter git it tuck out 'm um."--Uncle Remus treated the little boy as if he was "pestered with sense, like grown-ups," and surely the little boy gained much amus.e.m.e.nt from sayings such as these: "If you know the man thab would refuse to take care of himself, I'd like mighty well if you'd point him out."--"Well, well," said Uncle Remus soothingly, "in deze low groun's er sorrer, you des got to lean back en make allowances fer all sorts er folks. You got ter low fer dem dat knows too much same ez dem what knows too little. A heap er sayin's en a heap er doin's in dis roun' worl' got ter be tuck on trus'."--The child does not get the full force of the philosophy but he gets what he can and that much sinks in.

It is through the contemplative imagination that the child realizes the meaning of particular tales. He learns: that _Cinderella_ means that goodness brings its own reward; that _Three Pigs_ means that the wise build with care and caution, with foresight; that _Star Dollars_ means compa.s.sion for others and kindness to them; and that _Red Riding Hood_ means obedience.

The power of the contemplative imagination is based on the indistinctness of the image. It suggests, too, the relation between cause and effect, which reason afterwards proves; and therefore it is a direct aid to science. In the tales there are expressed facts of truth symbolically clothed which science since then has discovered.

And now that folk-lore is being studied seriously to unfold all it gives of an earlier life, perhaps this new study may reveal some new truths of science hidden in its depths. The marvels of modern shoe manufacture were prophesied in _The Little Elves_, and the power of electricity to hold fast was foretold in _Dummling and his Golden Goose_. The wonders of modern machinery appeared in the magic axe of Espen that hit at every stroke; and the miracle of modern ca.n.a.ls sees a counterpart in the spring which Espen brought to the giant's boiling-pot in the wood. The magic sleep from which there was an awakening, even after a hundred years, may have typified hypnotism and its strange power upon man. These are realizations of some of the wonders of fairyland. But there may be found lurking in its depths many truths as yet undiscovered by science. Perhaps the dreams of primitive man may suggest to the present-day scientist new possibilities.--What primitive man has done in fancy present-day man can do in reality.

(3) A basis of truth. All fine emotional effects arise from truth. The tale must hold the mirror and show an image of life. It must select and combine facts which will suggest emotion but the facts must be a true expression of human nature. The tale, whether it is realistic in emphasizing the familiar, the commonplace, and the present, or romantic in emphasizing the strange, the heroic, and the remote, must be idealistic to interpret truly the facts of life by high ideals. If the tale has this basis of truth the child will gain, through his handling of it, a body of facts. This increases his knowledge and strengthens his intellect. And it is to be remembered that, for the child's all-round development, the appeal of literature to the intellect is a value to be emphasized equally with the appeal to the emotions and to the imagination. Speaking of the nature of the intellect in his essay on _Intellect_, Emerson has said: "We do not determine what we will think. We only open our senses, clear away as we can all obstruction from the fact, and suffer the intellect to see." Attention to the intellectual element in literature gives a power of thought. The consideration of the truth of the fairy tale aids the child to clear, definite thinking because the experience of the tale is ordered from a beginning, through a development, to a climax, and to a conclusion. It a.s.sists him to form conclusions because it presents results of circ.u.mstances and consequences of conduct. Continued attention to the facts, knowledge, and truth presented in the tales, helps the child to grow a sincerity of spirit.

This leads to that love of actual truth, which is one of the armors of middle life, against which false opinion falls harmless.

(4) A form, more or less perfect. Form is the union of all the means which the writer employs to convey his thought and emotion to the reader. Flaubert has said, "Among all the expressions of the world there is but _one_, one form, one mode, to express what I want to say."--"Say what you have to say, what you have a will to say, in the simplest, the most direct and exact manner possible, with no surplusage," Walter Pater has spoken. Then the form and the matter will fit each other so perfectly there will be no unnecessary adornment.

In regard to form it is to be remembered that feeling is best awakened incidentally by suggestion. Words are the instruments, the medium of the writer. Words have two powers: the power to name what they mean, or denotation; and the power to suggest what they imply, or connotation. Words have the power of connotation in two ways: They may mean more than they say or they may produce emotional effect not only from meaning but also from sound. To make these two suggestive powers of words work together is the perfect art of Milton. Pope describes for us the relation of sound to sense in a few lines which themselves ill.u.s.trate the point:--

Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows.

But when loud surges lash the sounding sh.o.r.e, The hoa.r.s.e, rough verse, should like the torrent roar.

When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw.

The line too labors, and the words move slow: Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main.

When a kindergarten child, the most timid one of a group, on listening to the telling of _The Bremen Town Musicians_, at the description of the Donkey and the Dog coming to the Cat, sitting in the road with a face "dismal as three rainy Sundays," chuckled with humor at the word "dismal," it was not because she knew the meaning of the word or the significance of "three rainy Sundays," but because the sounds of the words and the facial expression of the story-teller conveyed the emotional effect, which she sensed.

The connection between sound and action appears in _Little Spider's First Web_: The Fly said, "Then I will _buzz_"; the Bee said, "Then I will _hum_"; the Cricket said, "Then I will _chirp_"; the Ant said, "Then I will _run_ to and fro"; the b.u.t.terfly said, "Then I will _fly_"; and the Bird said, "Then I will _sing_." The effect is produced here because the words selected are concrete ones which visualize. Repet.i.tive pa.s.sages in the tales often contribute this effect of sound upon meaning, as we find in _The Three Billy-Goats Gruff_: "Trip, trap; trip, trap! went the bridge as the youngest Billy-Goat Gruff came to cross the bridge." The sound of the words in this entire tale contributes largely to the meaning. The Troll roared and said, "Now I'm coming to gobble you up!" Usually the bits of rhyme interspersed throughout the tales, ill.u.s.trate this contribution of sound to meaning; as in the _Three Pigs_:--

Then I'll huff, And I'll puff, And I'll blow your house in!

Especially is this the case in tales dignified by the cante-fable form; such as Grimm's _Cinderella_:--

Rustle and shake yourself, dear tree, And silver and gold throw down to me!

Or in _Little Two-Eyes_:--

Little kid, bleat, I wish to eat!

Or in _The Little Lamb and the Little Fish_:--

Ah, my brother, in the wood A Iamb, now I must search for food!

The suggestive power of words to convey more than they mean, is produced, not only by the sounds contained in the words themselves, but also largely by the arrangement of the words and by the speech-tunes of the voice in speaking them. Kipling's _Elephant's Child_ is a living example of the suggestive power of words. The "new, fine question" suggests that the Elephant's Child had a habit of asking questions which had not been received as if they were fine.

"Wait-a-bit thorn-bush," suggests the Kolokolo Bird sitting alone on the bush in placid quiet. "And _still_ I want to know what the crocodile has for dinner" implies that there had been enough spankings to have killed the curiosity, but contrary to what one would expect, it was living and active. When Kolokolo Bird said with a _mournful_ cry, "Go to the banks of the great, grey-green, greasy Limpopo River,"

etc., the implication of _mournful_ is, that there the Elephant's Child would have a sorry time of it. The expression, "dear families,"

which occurs so often, is full of delightful irony and suggests the vigorous treatment, anything but dear, which had come to the Elephant's Child from them.

Perfect form consists in the "ability to convey thought and emotion with perfect fidelity." The general qualities characteristic of perfect form, which have been outlined by Professor Winchester, in his _Principles of Literary Criticism_, are: (1) precision or clearness; (2) energy or force; (3) delicacy or emotional harmony; and (4) personality. Precision or clearness demands the precise value and meaning of words. It requires that words have the power of denotation.

It appeals to the intellect of the reader or listener and demands that language be neither vague nor ambiguous nor obscure. Energy or force demands that perfect form have the quality of emotion. It requires that words have especially the power of connotation. It appeals to the emotions of the reader or listener and has the power to hold the attention. It demands of language that sympathy which will imply what it would suggest. Delicacy or emotional harmony demands that perfect form please the taste. It requires that an emotional harmony be secured by a selection and arrangement of the melody of words and of the emotional a.s.sociations which, together with the meanings, are tied up in words. It demands that words have the power of perfect adaptation to the thought and feeling they express, that words have both the power of denotation and of connotation. It appeals to the aesthetic sense of the reader or listener, it gives to form beauty and charm. Personality is the influence of the author, the charm of individuality, and suggests the character of the writer.

At the same time that perfect form is characterized by the general qualities of precision, energy, delicacy, and personality, as composition consisting of words, sentences, paragraphs, or large wholes, its elements must be controlled by certain main principles, which have been presented by Professor Barrett Wendell in _English Composition_. Perfect form cannot possess the four general qualities above mentioned unless its elements are controlled by these main principles. These are: (1) the principle of sincerity; (2) the principle of unity; (3) the principle of ma.s.s; and (4) the principle of coherence. Sincerity demands of perfect form that it be a just expression. Unity demands that every composition should group itself about a central idea. There must be one story, all incidents subordinated, one main course of action, one main group of characters, and one tone of feeling to produce an emotional effect. Variety of action must lead to one definite result and variety of feeling to one total impression. Unity demands that the tale must have a plan that is complete, with no irrelevant material, and that there must be a logical order and a climax. Ma.s.s demands that the chief parts of every composition should readily catch the eye. It maintains a harmonious proportion of all the parts. Coherence demands of any composition that the relation of each part to its neighbors should be unmistakable, and that the order, forms, and connections of the parts preserve this relation.

When form secures a perfect adaptation of the language to the thought and feeling expressed, it may be said to possess style, in a broad sense of the word. In a more detailed sense, when form is characterized by precision, energy, delicacy, and personality, and at the same time has the elements of its composition controlled by the principles of sincerity, unity, ma.s.s, and coherence, it is said to possess style. The fairy tale which is a cla.s.sic characterized by that perfect form called style, will possess the general qualities of precision, energy, delicacy, and personality; and the elements of its structure, its words, its sentences, its paragraphs, will display a control of the principles of sincerity, unity, ma.s.s, and coherence.

A tale which well ill.u.s.trates the literary form possible to the child's tale, which may be said to possess that perfection of form we call style, and which may be used with the distinct aim to improve the child's English and perfect his language expression, is the modern realistic fairy tale, _Oeyvind and Marit_.

_Oeyvind and Marit_ is so entirely realistic as to be excluded here, but the talking rhymes which the Mother sings to Oeyvind bring in the fairy element of the talking animals. In the form of this tale, the perfect fidelity with which the words fit the meaning is apparent--nothing seems superfluous. When Oeyvind asked Marit who she was, she replied:--

"I am Marit, mother's little one, father's fiddle, the elf in the house, granddaughter of Ole Nordistuen of the Heidi farms, four years old in the autumn, two days after the frost nights, I!"

And Oeyvind replied:--

"Are you really?"--and drew a long breath which he had not dared to do so long as she was speaking.