In prose, it is advisable to let the pupils read the selection before the lesson is taken up by the teacher. The pupils must have practice in getting the thought from the symbols on the printed page and in grasping the general trend of the story, the description, or the argument. The work will be mainly intellectual, but the pupils may also, at this stage, have practice in discovering the emotional elements in some of the prose extracts. In the higher Forms, the teacher may occasionally allow some of his best readers to read a poem aloud, where the emotion is evident or the narrative plain. _The Barefoot Boy_, p. 118, Fourth Reader; _The Homes of England_, p. 375; and _Bernardo del Carpio_, p. 131, are examples of this kind. It is usually a better plan for the teacher to read the poem to the pupils. With many poems of exquisite music and imagery, such as _The Bugle Song_, p. 337, Third Reader, the reading by a pupil who has not yet caught the meaning and spirit will be a failure, and the teacher will see that the mood that he has prepared with care at the opening is so certain to be dissipated that he must intervene in order to prevent the spoiling of the lesson. But the teacher who has studied the poem and whose feelings have been deeply stirred by its music and pictures can, through his reading, communicate to his pupils his own appreciation; and it will be a dull pupil who does not feel the contagion. It is, however, not well to insist on too great uniformity in method; the spirit rather than the form is vital. VALUE OF ORAL READING IN THE INTERPRETATION AND APPRECIATION OF LITERATURE 1. To the reader himself. Poetical literature is akin to music. Poetry was originally sung by the minstrel, and the thought and feeling were communicated to the audience solely by the ear. The study of poetry by the eye is artificial, modern, and contrary to our hereditary instincts. We should not argue that the best way to appreciate music is found in following the symbols on the music sheet. It is only the highly educated musician who can imagine the delights of music by an examination of the written text. To some degree, it is the same with poetry. The music of the words and the appropriateness of the rhythm cannot be fully perceived by merely silent reading. The eye alone would never detect the exquisite music of such a poem as _Hide and Seek_, Third Reader, p. 50, or _Break, break, break_, p. 201. Nor could it perceive the suitability of the rhythm to the theme, as exhibited in _How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_, Fourth Reader, p. 351. In this poem, we can hear in the rhythm the hoof beats of the horses as they gallop along. How often have we felt a new meaning and appropriateness that our voice alone has suggested!