c . ONIVERSf VI VOLUME VI DELAWARE COLLEGE BULLETIN NEW SERIES PUBLISHED QUARTERLY NUMBER IV Suggestions for Note Taking PREPARED BY EZRA KEMPTON MAXFIELD Instructor in English PUBLISHED BY DELAWARE COLLEGE DECEMBER, 1910 Entered June 22, 1904, at Newark. Delaware, as second-class matter, under Act of Congress of July 16, 1894. NOTE TAKING NEWARK POST Newark, Delaware . INTRODUCTION A well known Harvard professor has said that to his mind nothing seems more like the eating of dry sawdust than the perusal of his own lectures as served up to him in the form of students' examination books. He might well have added "unless it be the notes from which they prepare for examinations," because there is a very vital connection between the note-book and the examination book. We would not go so far as to say that all failures in examination are due to poor notetaking, but we do main- tain, by actual observation, that a great many unsatisfactory answers can be directly traced to the note book. When the great reckoning time of the year comes around students have oftentimes to rely upon the poorest apologies for what has been discussed either in the lectures or in the col- lateral reading. Nor do amateurs at notetaking always know that their notes are imperfect until they learn from bitter experience. It sometimes happens that hardworking students will come to an instructor after an examination, surprised and not a little hurt because their grades are not what they think that they deserve. "I don't see why this grade is not a B instead of a C." a man will say, as he produces an examination book bristling with corrections. "Why is not this answer right?" and "What's the matter with that one?" If the instructor explains patiently in detail in what respect the answers are deficient perhaps the student will say, "Well, that is the way I have it in my notebook," as if that should be an end of the whole matter. An inspection of his notes will indeed show that he speaks truly. The errors are there, the same serious errors that fell under the ban of the blue pencil; errors of the ear, eye, apprehension, at best poor maimed echoes of our lectures. The notes themselves are "fir}- sawdust" because they do not represent the work they stand for. What then may we expect of the examination prepared from such notes? Poor notes are dear at any cost. Most men learn this fact sooner or later, to their sorrow. It is in order that some conscientious undergrad- uates may be spared the humiliation and disappointment of failure before they have learned the art of notetaking for themselves that this pamphlet is prepared. It does not seem wise to attempt to lay down any very stringent rules () n the subject. We can only suggest the more general methods from which every man can work out his own particular system. In the first place let us have no delusions about notetaking itself. It should not be regarded as an important exercise for its own sake, though something might be said on that score; nor a mere traditional practice of college men that could be dispensed with; nor yet, as one writer has sug- gested, a diversion for mischievous minds which might be troublesome. Notes are quite as prosaic necessities as the piece of string whicn the thoughtful wife ties around the finger of the absent-minded man to remind him of the letter he is to mail or of the silk he is to match. The universal recognition of the need for notetaking is a tacit admission of the weak- ness of the human mind. Tt goes without saying that were one able to re- call at will every fact or theory to which one's attention has been called there would be no necessity for taking notes. And those rare and fortu- nate minds which need no helps to memory can profit far more by what they hear or by what they read if they are not hampered by notetaking. As for the man who will not pay attention to the work in class without a .diversion the less that we can say the better. To take notes one must pay strict attention to business, especially in the case of a lecture. Even then there is bound to be some sacrifice in the effect of the discourse; the mind .cannot wholly be occupied with the thought of the lecture while it is analyz- ing it into notes. But this is better than the loss of a large part of the discussion later through forgetfulness. The moral is then to take notes and take good notes, as a pure matter of business. Let us consider the practice of note taking under two main heads: notes on lectures, and notes on reading. NOTES ON LECTURES As someone has pointed out, the college lecture has not altogether the importance it once had; not but that it is still a necessity, because we could hardly dispense with it, but, rather, that it has been relegated to a more secondary position by the increase in collateral reading. A few de- cades ago college libraries were maintained for the almost exclusive use of the professor and the graduate student. Not only were books too rare and costly for promiscuous handling by the "vulgar" undergraduate, but fris crude mind was not considered sufficiently developed to be able to appreciate the great works of science and literature at first hand. It was still an age of theoretical knowledge so far as the undergraduate was con- cerned. The student had to take his learning as it fell as drops of wisdom from the lips of a gray-bearded sage. He must accept a fact because a professor said it was a fact. The college lecture, aside from the religious use of a few tests, was the one source of undergraduate learning. Thus a failure to obtain good notes might, very likely, mean a greater calamity to the student than it does now. Today our libraries are not only available to the undergraduate but they are full of books, edited texts, critical works of various kinds, and even discussions of the very topics considered in the lectures, so that it is quite possible for a bright student who keeps his ears open during lectures ■and who uses discrimination in his collateral reading, to dispense with notes in class. But even if the field be well covered in the collateral read- ing, notes are yet important, by virtue of the personality of the lecturer. No two men ever approach the same subject quite the same way. Few lecturers lay emphasis in altogether the same directions. The limits of the • same field may vary with different scholars. Names of periods, question- able dates, any statement yet in doubt subject to theory or hypothesis, will -receive the individual stamp of the lecturer. If for nothing else a man '.should take notes to get the lecturer's point of view. The Freshman before he comes to college usually has not experienced the lecture as a means of obtaining knowledge. He enters the lecture room with but little idea of what is expected of him. He perhaps has been told to get a certain kind of notebook and a special kind of pen or pencil, but they are poor tools in his hand. Without a few suggestions he appears all at sea through the first few lectures. Every lecturer will proceed in his own way, which may vary from a deliberate easy-going talk more or less extempore from meagre notes, or from no notes at all, to the glibly- read composition carefully prepared beforehand from an outline complete to "sub f's and g's." In about eight cases out of ten the early notes of the Freshman are not worth the paper they are written on. He begins invar- iably by attempting to take the lecturer's words verbatim, and after Eisner frantic attempts to do the impossible, in which process he loses the half of many sentences, the whole of almost every thought, and wastes untold nervous energy, besides, in laboriously scrawling down a fine-sounding sentence here and there, he begins to feel the overwhelming sense of help- lessness and despair, not to say disgust for the work itself, which corner from inability to keep up with the class. Now successful note taking from a lecture means especially the exer- cise of judgment. The lecturer has a certain number of basic facts at hancS,. from which he works out each point. He goes into sufficient detail to make- the fundamental points plain. Departing from these from time to time he advances theories and illustrates at will. He usually works from an out- line logically arranged. If one listens attentively one will usually be able to distinguish this outline. In order to do this the student should be as- little conscious of self as possible so as to have his mind free. That is, his mind should be so intent upon the work as presented by the instructor that his own personality is, for the time, foi gotten. He must not be thinking what he is going to do with the holiday he will have tomorrow, or what he will wear to the party tonight; he should not even see the pencil and the notebook except with the same subconscious eye he views all fami- liar objects; the very act of writng should be as unconscious as the act oi walking. He also must learn to think automatically. He must not be con- fused or led astray by the words, phrases, or fine-sounding sentences with which the speaker clothes his thought. His mind must be alert for the thought itself. As soon as the student learns this fact the art is fully half mastered. The first injunction is then: Do not try to take the lecture verbatim. Let the fine words and phrases go. Their effect should be unconscious. Look behind them for the thought. It may sometimes be summed up in very small space. Take for example a paragraph from a lecture on "The- Bible as Literature." "It is not our purpose this morning to quarrel with the faith of saints- and the holy minded. Whatever the beliefs, so long as they bring their owners comfort and peace, they are blessed and beyond reproach. We- shall not argue the point concerning the inspiration of the Bible; what it is, whether God literally guiding the pen of a consecrated servant or a» noble and devout believer writing a doctrine so high and noble as to» seem really on a level with the Divine Mind, we shall not attempt to say. This much will suffice us, that the sacred words, whatever the extent of the inspiration, were at least transcribed by the hand of man, and we have ai habit of calling the written works of man, when of sufficient merit, litera- ture. So the Bible is literature." It will be seen at once that the lecturer is forestalling any false im- pressions of his purpose, which might exist in the minds of his class. No 1 real facts are stated. The paragraph is important as an introduction tc: convey an impression of neutrality. In the student's notebook all that i* necessary is a single sentence, which might read as follows: Purpose: — to treat the Bible purely as literature, apart from any re- ligious significance, since the actual transcription was by the hand of man. In order to show how important it is to follow the lecture, to get the relation of points, to keep the point of view of the lecturer distinct, let uav s 6 take another succinct example. The following quotation is from William Black's "Goldsmith." "Of course a very dark picture might be drawn of Goldsmith's life; and the sufferings that he undoubtedly endured have been made a whip with which to lash the ingratitude of a world not too quick to recognize the claims of genius. He has been put before us without the brighter lights to the picture, as the most unfortunate of poor devils; the heart- broken usher; the hack ground down by sordid booksellers; the starving occupant of successive garrets. This is the aspect of Goldsmith's career which naturally attracts Mr. Forster." Now this is said .not from Mr. Black's point of view at all, but from that of Forster, whom he is .quoting. If the student fails to note the state- ment "This is the aspect of Goldsmith's career which naturally attracts Mr. Forster," he may be trapped into stating Mr. Forster's extreme views as those of Mr. Black. In the same manner the author, a little later, gives the hypothetical opinion of a Japanese student, which paints the opposite extreme of Goldsmith. Without the notes which index the relation to Mr. Black's view the notebook might present most startling incongruities, but not more startling than those which students are responsible for in every examination. It will not be sufficient, however, to look for the individual thoughts alone. It is necessary that the student be alert to reason as the speaker reasons. It is very dangerous to jot down the results of reasoning if you have not followed it in your own mind. The probability is that you will get it all wrong. It is important to get the point, every point, and its logi- cal connection in the discourse. Sum up every point and put it down in the order given, but be sure you get it right. If possible make your head- ings as you go. If circumstance will not permit, you can insert them later in the margin of your page. The ideal way, of course, is to have your lecture so well in hand as to be able to subordinate each idea to its proper head. Some lecturers, even of international reputation, are care- less of their thought sequence and deliver their ideas in such a disordered way that it is impossible, even for an expert, to take logical notes from them. The only thing to do in that case is to t?„ke down every point as it comes and rearrange all of the points later. Fortunately, however, you will find most lectures logical in outline, and the main heads will be ob- vious as the student gets into the spirit of taking good notes. In summing up our more general directions we might reduce them to the following- fundamental principles: First. The student should become as little conscious of his notebook as possible, that his mind may act reflexively; that is, from habit, automati- cally. Second. He should be always on the alert to get every important point in the lecture, but he must avoid verbatim notes when they lead him astray from the point. He must be careful that there are no half truths on liis paffe. Half truths make a student ridiculous in an examination book. Third. He must follow the reasoning of the lecturer; he must reason as th»e lecturer reasons, through scientific, sociological, or purely mathe- matical problems and deductions. Fourth. He must have a sense of values, to be able to distinguish between a truth stated as such and a mere hypothesis or theory; to b able to subordinate a minor point or subtopic to its relative place. e Fifth. Above all, he must take the position of the lecturer and see the subject from his point of view, as much as possible; in order that he may really see the significance of the lecture as a whole. What we have said thus far relates to notetaking in general. These few suggestipns will, we think, be found equally serviceable for almost all subjects, Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics, History, English, etc. The exact method of procedure may be left to thfe individual, at this point, to work out for himself. The fairly specific suggestions which fol- low now will, however, prove of value. We recommend that the Fresh- man, at least, take his class-room notes with the idea of rewriting them later. Many men are too busy or too indolent to bother with their notes out of class until it is time to prepare for examination, and necessity urges them on. By such men who approach their notes when "cold", more care must be taken in the lecture room because when they write their notes for the first time they write them for all time. After the interval of weeks and months one's own notes are almost the notes of a strange hand. They are cold and bare, stripped of the glamour which the lecturer's words cast about them. They must read sensibly, logically, and must be easily deci- phered. Men who never rewrite their notes must of necessity take fuller notes than the man who intends to rewrite them while the inspiration of the subject is keen, while the words of the lecturer are yet ringing in his ears. They are placing a great responsibilit}- upon these notes, more than they may realize. While the impressions of the lectures are vivid in one's mind the notes appear in a state of completeness which they do not actually possess, like the lines of the child on the ground glass slate, colored and sustained in detail by the perfection of the copy behind the glass, which when the model is removed show themselves in their true crudeness. It requires skill to make them mean much to you when the freshness is gone. The inexperienced man had better plan to rewrite his notes, and even the advanced student will find many advantages in the system. Those men who think that their time is too valuable for rewriting do not realize that in the end they may save time by the "longer way home." In the first place, if a student revises his notes immediately after a lecture he can not only make their final form legible, more interesting by virtue of complete words and sentences, but he can also fill in a great many points between the lines, from memory. Thus his notes will be legible, interesting and complete, and more than this, the process of rewriting wll fix the various points much better in his mind at a time when it is most susceptible to them, than any study from cold notes can do. The preparation for examination is thus made simple. Moreover, since one does not, by this plan, have to take so full notes in class they will in the end be more logical and give more leis- ure in the classroom for the appreciation and enjoyment of the lecture. In courses which involve the use of mathematical equations great care should be taken that every step in the process of reasoning be noted. Problems from the board or from dictation must be accurate. All expla- nations, formal and informal, of a figure, a diagram, a machine, or a piece of apparatus, should be taken down. One never knows when they may be required. Chemical equations, computations, reactions from the experi- mental work in the lecture, must be carefully worked out. In some cases when the classroom discussion centers around particular words, sentences, or around figures and problems in the text book, it may be well to take the notes directly in the text book, either on the margins, between the leaves, or on insert-leaves which book-shops sell for that pur- 8 pose. Such notes are very convenient in literature courses of all languages, science, and in mathematics. They are particularly desirable in the case of an extensive study of the text, such as Shakspere, Bacon, Milton. It may be well to arrange beforehand a system of abbreviations so that time may be saved while you are "under fire." It should be properly a definite system so that there may be no confusion in reading the notes later. It may be an advantage to learn shorthand, as many do, and take the notes verbatim, but there really is no necessity for taking entire lec- tures; in fact lectures may be a disadvantage because they make more work to be gone over. It is surprising how proficient one may become in the use of one's own abbreviated longhand. If certain letters or syllables stand for the same word or expression every time the notes may be both full and legible. Thus "b," with date, is "born" and "d" is "died"; "dif" is "different from"; "lit" is "literature"; "Shak" is "Shakspere"; "gov" is "governor;" "govt" is "government"; "cal" is "calculate"; "cur" is "current"; "org" is "organic" or "organism"; "prep" is "precipitate"; "dec" is "decant"; "f" is "filter"; "comp" is "compound"; "H" is "Hydrogen"; "dyn" is "dynamo", or "dynamic"; "dn" is "dyne", etc., without end. You need not be particular about grammar or completeness. There is no limitation save clearness and accuracy. One must be able to read the notes later. One, perhaps extreme, example of the use of this system might read as follows: 100 pts Fe2 CI 6 diss 63.5 pts H2O equals liq sp g 1.67, 25 degrees; solid to yel crys mass equals Fe 2 CI 6 plus 12 H 2 O Translated they read: When ioo parts of ferric chloride are dissolved in 63.5 parts of water a liquid is obtained which has a specific gravity of 1.67 at 25 degrees, and this solidifies to a yellow crystalline mass, having the composition of Fe2C16 plus 12 H2O." But good notes are not always a guarantee against imperfect knowl- edge. Many students who take very acceptable notes do not know how to get the most out of them when preparing for examination. This is es- pecially true of those men whose notes are especially full. Full notes may become embarrassing if they are not handled properly, because the eye must search over a wide field to obtain the facts. An excellent way to make the important points stand out is to read the entire set of notes very carefully, underlining the more vital points in red ink. Such a method will make them stand out from the rest and give the eye a scale of values more easily remembered. One even better plan is to get regular library index cards and, after the lecture is fairly well learned, transfer the points underlined to them, one card to a lecture. These cards can be carried about and studied at odd moments. One is enabled by their use to get the perspective view of the lecture which brings out the sense of values which one loses when one studies the notes in their mass of detail only. With the skeleton in mind one has little difficulty in recalling the details. Thus one of these cards might read as given below. Thomas Dekker, 1569 - ? 1. Tempestuous life. 2. Broad sympathy with lower strata of society. 3. Genuine Realism. 4. Modern attitude — love story. 5. Realized that 9 story of manners could only fringe to central story. 6. Some feeling fof dramatic structure. 6. Superb dramatic economy in "Shoemaker's Holi- day" — gets all amusement out of story — no figures outside Shak. more truly humorous than Shoemaker & Wife. 8. Great sympathy for women who suffer from brutality of husbands. These are actual notes of an actual lecture boiled down to the mere major points. Another card sums up a lecture on Shakespeare's "Titus Andronicus" f Titus Vespasian 1 2 old plays come j Titus Andronicus -into possession Titus Adronicus, 1594 Sources j one Dutch, other J of the company Great puzzle — really melodrama — [ German up to third act moves swiftly & compactly — 2 plays crowded into one — ■ hence loses unity — incidents unrelated brought together — Shak, writing for public which had enjoyed Spanish Tragedy — this less brutal, less ef- fective — could not go far in characterization — enriched poetic expression where possible — Hence Shak, by 1594, competent in melodrama — able to use many incidents effectively where previously difficulty in plotting at all, It is not a bad plan for two or more students to meet at stated inter- vals and compare their notes. The lecture can be discussed so that the points omitted or not fully understood can be placed correctly in the note- book against the final test. The chance for error is greatly decreased in this way and, besides, the discussion greatly aids the memory so that the work of studying from the notes is lessened. In at least one instance where the speaker delivered his lecture very rapidly several students arranged to take his points in relays; that is, since there was scarcely time for one man to get all, one man could take the first point, another the second, and so on. These men occupied seats close together so that an exchange of signals was possible. Afterwards they discussed each lecture and put their notes together. Dates bother some people a great deal, especially when they are sprinkled over large areas of notes. It sometimes happens that the stud- ent has to keep several distinct sets of dates in his mind for several suc- cessive examinations. If you have experienced trouble in remembering" dates try the following system which has proved beneficial to at least one student. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. Shakspere Jonson — Chapman Marston — Dekker Middleton Beaumont — Fletcher — Massinger —Ford — Shirley Webster O o a. on Born 1564 1573- —1559- 1575 —1569- 1570- 1558— -1579 —1589— ^1—1586 1— 1596 -reverse- in u 50 years Died 1616- -1637 1634- 1634- 1634 - 1616— 1625 -1639 j-i a o> S C/3 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11, 12. After reading the extract from a lecture on "The Essentials of a Good Business Letter," see if the notes which immediately follow contain all 10 the important points, properly subordinated and arranged, as we have advised. i. ESSENTIALS OF A GOOD BUSINESS LETTER. A good business letter is characterized by a clear, effective presenta- tion of sound subject matter. We are concerned here, not with the subv ject matter, which we assume to be sound, but with how this matter is pre- sented — in other words, with the composition of the letter. From this point of view, a good business letter is, first of all accurate, accurate in form, in spelling, in grammar, in punctuation, in sentence structure. Certain forms for the headings, address and salutation, formal close, and superscription, which are sanctioned by good use, must be strictly fol- lowed. Correct spelling, good grammar, and proper punctuation are absolute essentials, as in any other kind of composition. Misspelled words and bad grammar are generally signs of illiteracy, and although such errors do not, as a rule, tend to make the sense obscure, they do seriously impair the force of a letter. Faulty punctuation often confuses the mean- ing, thus causing greater effort on the part of the reader to understand exactly what the writer wishes to say. Every sentence in a letter should be grammatically complete, and should express but one idea. Faulty sentence structure, like faulty punc- tuation, offends both against accuracy and clearness. Careful writers never use the shortened forms so common in slovenly letters. Such expres- sions as the following should be avoided: ****** Closely connected with accuracy is the second essential of a well writ- ten business letter, clearness. Too great pains cannot be taken that the reader shall understand with the least effort what is said in a letter. If the sentences are unified, coherent, and properly punctuated, much has been accomplished toward securing clearness. There remains the logical arrangement and the proper paragraphing of the pavts of the letter or the divisions of a subject. If several related ideas are treated in a letter, they must follow one another logically and each division of the subject must stand by itself in a paragraph. Here the writer must determine what he should say first, what should logically follow, and what should be the most effective ending. He must also decide what parts of his subject mat- ter should be placed by themselves in separate paragraphs. If he is reply- ing to a letter, he should discuss the points in the order in which they appeared in the original letter. In every case he must arrange his letter so that the trend of thought is logical and the divisions of his subject mat' ter clearly brought out. One sample of a poorly paragraphed letter with a revised copy will illustrate the gain in clearness which comes from proper paragraphing. * '■l* "■A* "i? -4? ^ ^tr "it ^Jff ^t* yf> ^P- 2f* 'f* *p> *r* •r*' "I* *r- Logical arrangement of the subject matter and grammatical accuracy will, of course, avail little if a writer does not give intelligent expression to his ideas. Words may be used correctly, sentences may be complete gram- matically, and paragraphs may be well constructed; but a letter will still be unintelligible if a writer's combination of words does not make good sense. Confused expression is generally due to confusion in a writer's mental processes; it is less frequently, though frequent enough, due to careless composition, to neglect on the part 'of the writer to make sure that what he has said means something and means only one thing. A man should always remember that an expression which is perfectly clear to 11 Ihim may be entirely obscure to an equally intelligent reader. The follow- ing letter is an admirable example of muddled composition. * ********* Certain devices which help the reader in an easy comprehension of the subject matter of a letter are used by many business men. It is often advis- able to write at the beginning of a letter a title indicating the contents of a letter. If a letter addressed to a company is of special interest to one man, this fact is indicated in the inside address and salutation by a phrase such as Attention Mr. J. P. Brown. In most replies to business letters, a statement of the subject under discussion should, even at the risk of repe- tition, be made in the first sentence. The busy man must know at once whether a certain letter concerns him or another member of his firm or one of his subordinates. Such devices as are here mentioned help much in securing clearness, the second essential of a well written business letter. Accuracy and clearness will be of little avail, however, unless a busi- ness letter is brief. Unnecessary diffuseness will spoil the effect of an otherwise effective letter. Information ■ must be presented as briefly and concisely as possible. The reader has not the time or patience to wade through a mass of meaningless words. The young engineer will find usual- ly that it is worth while to go over carefully every letter, condensing and improving his expression wherever possible. Notice the saving in words effected, in the revision of the following letter. Unnecessary words are omitted and a title indicating the contents is attached at the beginning of the letter * *********** ********* NOTES ON ESSENTIALS OF A GOOD BUSINESS LETTER I. Accuracy. Form, spelling, grammar, punctuation, sentence structure. (a) Established forms for heading, address, and salutation, etc., must be followed. (b) Misspelled words and bad grammar signs of illiteracy. (c) Faulty spelling confuses meaning. (d) Sentences should be complete. Avoid such sentences as the following: (Examples) II. Clearness. (a) Good sentences a help toward clearness (b) Logical arrangement and paragraphing. Compare poorly paragraphed letter with the revision. (Example). (c) Writer must give intelligent expression to his ideas. (d) Certain devices help the writer to understand easily the subject matter of a letter. 1. Title at beginning of letter indicating contents. 2. Attention of one member or employee of a firm called by a phrase such as — Attention Mr. J. P. Brown. 3. Mention in first sentence of the subject under discussion. III. Brevity. (a) Information must be given as briefly and concisely as possible, (b) Omit unnecessary words. ,(c) But composition must be grammatically and logically complete. Complete information must be given. One's judgment is the only guide. 12 II. CHEMICAL CHANGES IN THE BLAST FURNACE. A large number of investigations have been made on the subject of the chemical changes which occur in the blast-furnace, but in spite of these our knowledge of this subject is still far from complete. The fuel ignit- ing with the oxygen of the blast burns with, formation, -in the first place, of carbon dioxide, and this is reduced to carbonmonoxide by contact with glowing carbon. This latter gas coming into contact with the constantly descending charges of ore, reduces the ferric oxide to spongy metal, and this soon becomes coated with a fusible slag of silicate of lime. The zone in which the reduction occurs is situated at a higher or a lower part of the furnace according to the nature of the ore, and its temperature varies from 500 degrees to 900 degrees. When the ores are porous, they are more easily permeated by the carbon monoxide present, and the reduction takes place more quickly than when denser ores are employed. As the spongy iron descends, it arrives at the hotter parts of the furnace, the tempera- ture of which reaches to 1000 degrees in the belly or widest part of the furnace. At this point the finely-divided spongy iron begins to take up carbon, and it may, therefore, be termed "the zone of carburisation." The iron does not, however, become saturated with carbon until a lower point has been reached, at which the temperature rises to about 1400 de- grees. In this zone, which is the hottest part of the furnace, the materials, which were formerly in a pasty state, melt completely, running down into the hearth, where the lighter slag floats on the surface of the heavier iron, and thus protects it from the oxidising action of the blast. Other im- portant changes in the composition of the iron occur as the metal passes down the furnace. In the first place, the spongy iron, in passing through the zone. of reduction, takes up sulphur from the ores; and secondly, when the temperature reaches a higher point in the zone of carburisation, the phosphates contained in the ore are reduced, and the phosphorus is taken up by the iron. At a still higher temperature the fused iron reduces sili- con from the silicates, and this, together with manganese, aluminum, and other metals, remains as impurity in the cast-iron, (a) NOTES ON CHEMICAL CHANGES IN A BLAST FURNACE. In spite of many investigations knowledge still incomplete* 1. Fuel uniting with oxygen forms (a) Carbon dioxide. (b) Carbon monoxide, by contact with glowing carbon. 2. Carbon monoxide in contact with constantly descending charges of ore (a) Reduces ferric oxide to spongy metal. (b) Spongy metal soon coated with fusible slag of silicate of lime, (c) Zone of this reduction at higher or lower part of furnace ac- cording to nature of ore. Temperature from 60 degrees to 900 degrees. (d) Reduction quicker when ores are porous. 3. As spongy iron descends it arrives at hotter parts of furnace — temperature 1000 degrees. (a) Here spongy iron begins to take up carbon — "Zone of carburi- sation." (b) Iron saturated with carbon at lower point — ca. 1400 degrees, (a) Taken from Roscoe and Schorlemmer's Treatise on Chemistry I; p. 53. 13 Materials melt completely running down into hearth. Lighter slag floats on surface and protects heavier iron from oxidising action of the blast. 4. Other changes in composition of iron as metal passes down the furnace. (a) In zone of reduction spongy iron takes up sulphur. (b) In zone of carburisation phosphates reduced and phosphorus taken up by iron. (c) At higher temperatures fused iron reduces silicon from silicates and this with manganese, aluminum, and other metals, remains as an impurity in cast-iron. HI. TOOTHED GEARING. When a constant velocity ratio is to be maintained between two or more shafts, the pitch surfaces of the wheels on each shaft, previously dis- cussed, are no longer suitable for the transmission of rotation, owing to their liability to slip. We now have to consider the forms of the teeth which must be employed in order to prevent this slipping. It is first desirable, however, to gain a clear idea of the general nature of the various kinds of toothed wheels in use, and of those peculiarities upon which their classification is based. The axes of a pair of engaging wheels may not only have different relative positions, but the teeth of the wheels themselves may be of differ- ent kinds, and act upon each other in very different ways; for instance, the mode of action of a pair of screw wheels is quite unlike in its intrincis na- ture that of a pair of skew wheels, although the relative positions of their axes may be the same. There are six classes of toothed gearing found in practice, namely: 1. Spur gearing. 4. Twisted gearing 2. Bevel gearing. 5. Screw gearing.. 3. Skew gearing. 6. Face gearing. Now it is evident that the teeth of engaging wheels act upon each other by direct contact, no matter what their number may be. Hence, if the number be indefinitely increased, the size of each being correspond- ingly decreased, the teeth themselves will ultimately become, in general, lines, or elements of surfaces in contact. The relative motions of these surfaces will be the same as those of the wheels from which they are thus derived, their forms and relative positions depending on the nature of the class of gearing to which the wheels originally belonged. These surfaces are called "Pitch Surfaces." In the first three classes, the teeth, which are bounded by ruled sur- faces, touch each other along right lines, and by the process before men- tioned reduce to rectilinear elements of their pitch surfaces, which latter by their method of derivation must be tangent along a right line. The axes of spur wheels are parallel, and their pitch surfaces are cylinders; the axes of bevel wheels intersect each other, and their pitch surfaces are cones whose common vertex is the point of intersection of the axes: the axes of skew wheels lie in different planes (hence they neither intersect nor are parallel), and their pitch surfaces are hyperboloids. Now let us suppose that one of the wheels of an engaging pair, belong- ing to any one of the first three classes, lies twisted on its axis, each succes- sive transverse plane being rotated the same relative amount through a 14 greater angle than the preceding one; then the other wheel of the pair will receive a corresponding twist. The teeth are now distorted into sur- faces of a helicoidal nature, and by the before mentioned process of infinite sub-division, they become helical lines. It is to be noted, however, that these helical lines lie upon pitch sur- faces, which are tangent along a right line, no matter to which of the first three classes of gearing the wheels from which they were derived belonged. And it will also be seen that whatever of screw-like action may be involved in their motions, tends only to cause pressure in the direction of the com- mon element of the pitch surfaces, and has nothing whatever to do with the transmission of rotation. Wheels belonging to this class are known as twisted wheels. There is a very marked difference between these twisted wheels, and those of the next class, screw gearing. In the latter, it is true, the teeth are also of helicoidal form, and reduce to helical lines; but these helices He upon cylinders whose axes lie in different planes, and hence the pitch sur- faces touch each other in a point only. Again, as illustrated by the well- known combination of the "Worm and wheel", it is the screw-like action alone of one wheel upon the other which transmits rotation. Face Gearing. The name is derived from the fact that the wheels are usually formed with teeth consisting of turned pins projecting from the faces of circular disks. The pins may be inserted in surfaces other than, planes, and thus these wheels will work together when their axes have various relative positions. The distinguishing features of this class are,, that whatever the relative positions of the axis or the forms of the wheels, the teeth have circular transverse sections, touch each other in a single point only, and finally reduce to points in the circumferences of the cir- cles in contact. The reason for this last feature is that increasing the num- ber of teeth requires a decrease in their length and diameters, so that fin- ally they vanish altogether, or in other words become points. In the other classes of gearing, the length of the teeth is not at all affected by a change in either their height or thickness, and therefore they reduce to lines in- stead of points. Face wheels, strictly speaking, have therefore no "pitch surfaces," although in making them a surface of some kind must be pro- vided to which the teeth may be secured. NOTES ON TOOTHED GEARING, (a) When constant velocity ratio is to be maintained between two or more shafts, the pitch surfaces of wheels, owing to liability to slip, are no longer suitable. To prevent this slipping toothed gearing used. Necessary first to have a clear idea of nature of various kinds of toothed wheels. Engaging wheels vary, not only in relative positions of their axes, but also in kinds of teeth, and in way teeth act upon each other. For instance, action of screw wheels unlike that of skew wheels, although relative posi- tions of their axes may be the same. Classification: i. Spur gearing. 4. Twisted gearing. 2. Bevel gearing. 5. 'Screw gearing. 3. Skew gearing. 6. Face gearing. (a) These notes, althoug-h mote extended than is necessary, indicate the essential points of the part of th«. lecture printed , 15 If the teeth of a wheel be indefinitely increased in number ,the size being correspondingly diminished, they will become mere lines, or ele- ments of surfaces in contact. The relative motions of these surfaces will be the same as those of the wheels from which they are thus derived. The forms of these surfaces depend on the class of gearing to which the wheels originally belonged. The surfaces are known as "pitch surfaces." In the first three classes, the teeth, which are bounded by ruled sur^ faces, touch each other along right lines, and reduce to rectilinear ele- ments of the pitch surfaces, which by the mode of derivation must be tan- gent along a straight line. Axes of spur wheels are parallel, and their pitch surfaces are cylinders. Axes of bevel wheels intersect, and their pitch surfaces are cones, whose common vertex is the point of intersection of the axes. Axes of skew wheels lie in different planes, and their pitch surfaces are hyperboloids. In twisted gearing the teeth are distorted into surfaces of a helical nature and by indefinite subdivision into helical lines. These helical lines lie upon surfaces which are tangent along a straight line, whether the axes are parallel, intersecting, or neither. Any screw-like action of these wheels tends only to cause pressure in the direction of the common element of the pitch surfaces, and has nothing to do with the transmission of rotation, In screw gearing the teeth reduce to helical lines, but these helices lie upon cylinders whose axes are in different planes The pitch surfaces touch each other in a point only. In this class, unlike the preceding, the screw- like action alone of one wheel upon another produces rotation. In face gearing the teeth reduce to points in the circumferences of circles which are in contact. Face wheels have, properly speaking, no pitch surfaces. However, some kind of surface must be provided in which to secure the pins or teeth. NOTES ON READING We now come to the discussion of our second division, the notes on reading. What has already been said of the Lecture in general applies almost equally well to the Reading. In each case the purpose is the same. Almost the only difference is in the matter of tune. In the reading one can be as thorough or can spend as much time as desired since one is not obliged to keep pace with the delivery of a speaker. Indeed many students can take excellent notes from their reading, who fail to take good notes on their lectures because they think and write too slowly. Thus notes on read- ing are much easier and besides being easier, if one reads carefully, they will not need to be so detailed, except under special conditions. The parti- cular requirements of individual courses will determine to some extent the amount of detail. When only a few works are considered in a term, as in English 2, or English 4, and students are questioned very definitely in weekly tests in order to insure very careful reading, it is safe to record in the note book even details of form, shape, size, and color. For example, in the reading in the King James' version of the Bible the instructor might ask such seemingly trivial questions as of what kind of wood the Ark was built, the number of days of rain as distinguished from the duration of the flood, etc.; or in Milton's Paradise Lost, what particular advice Moloch had to offer Satan in Book II. In other cases a more general knowledge 16 is sufficient, and a student would record such particulars as his own con- ception of the characters, briefs of the plot t matters affecting style, meter, etc. In various courses the reading will be as varied as the forms of liter- ature themselves. One may be held responsible for novels, plays, essays, and poems; for theses, reports and articles in the current magazines. We give examples of notetaking from various forms, but it should be under- stood that there is great flexibility regarding these notes. In your particu- lar cas.e your own judgment must be the best guide. I. THE NOVEL. The novel is too long to use as illustration here. Besides, it does not differ widely enough from other forms of literature, which we do illustrate, to make the notes particularly useful. From the point of view of note tak- make the notes particularly useful. From the point of view of note tak- ing the novel is like the play in many respects. Both have plots, or story, depending upon characterization and motivation, or reason for action. The differences are largely external, in the manner of appeal. The play is made up of speeches for the mouths of living people on a stage set to represent actual scenes, and when read seems bare and abrupt unless one has the power of visualization. The novel is intended for reading only, and so gets its effect through description and narration as well as by a limited amount of conversation in the mouths of characters. Here you do not, as in the play, have your cast of characters all in a precise row to tell you whom you may expect to see. They appear to you as the story ad- vances. Leave a page in your notebook for each character. Then put down from time to time comments on the characters, their relations one to another, and anything else at all which may appear to you as an interest- ing or significant point to remember. The purely descriptive parts will help you to know the characters and the setting but they need not be recorded except by occasional significant words which throw light on the plot. It is well to record all the important action as you proceed. This will give you the plot in detail when you have finished. It may be well, later, to boil it down into a summary also. After this has been done record your own conception of the novel as a whole, stating here what you conceive to be the main purpose of the novel and possibly the special characteristics of the writer. Thus with characters, setting, plot, and pur- pose, you will have the elements of the novel ready at hand for use. II. THE ESSAY. The term essay has a very broad meaning. We use it here in connec- tion with writing of a purely expository character. In such writing there is usually a directness of style which makes note taking very simple. The author, as a rule, is trying to present his own ideas or to prove a point. He has a definite, obvious purpose, and is most successful when he is most logical. In reading an essay look first for the purpose. Then try to take the writer's point of view while you read; put yourself in his place and fol- low him in his reasoning. Thus a writer may be showing that man is de- generating. Another may be trying to prove that the earth is not spherical, but some other shape. Yet another may maintain that Shakspere was Bacon, and so on. It is not for you to quarrel with these views. You may not agree with any of them, but your own views must not creep in to color or distort the meaning which the author intended. If you are later called upon to give the views of Smith or Jones, you must have notes which represent the individual attitude of Smith or Jones, and no one else. IT In critical essays the main thing is to show wherein one critic disagrees with every other critic on the subject. Better outline every essay as you advance, summing up each point as made, and subordinating each idea under its particular head, quite as you did in the lectures. A. MILTON AND DANTE— MACAULY'S ESSAY ON MILTON. The poetry of Milton differs from that of Dante, as the hieroglyphics of Egypt differed from the picture-writing of Mexico. The images which Dante employs speak for themselves; they stand simply for what they are. Those of Milton have a signification which is often discernible only to the initiated. Their value depends less on what they directly represent than on what they remotely suggest. However strange, however grotesque, may be the appearance which Dante undertakes to describe, he never shrinks from describing it. He gives us the shape, the color, the sound, the smell, the taste; he counts the numbers; he measures the size. His similes are the illustrations of a traveller. Unlike those of other poets, and especially of Milton, they are introduced in a plain, business-like manner; not for the sake of any beauty in the objects from which they are drawn; not for the sake of any ornament which they may impart to the poem; but simply in order to make the meaning of the writer as clear to the reader as it is to himself. The ruins of the precipice which led from the sixth to the seventh circle of hell were like those of the rock which fell into the Adige on the south of Trent. The cataract of Phlegethon was like that of Aqua Cheta at the monastery of S. Benedict. The place where the here- tics were confined in burning tombs resembled the vast cemetery of Aries. Now let us compare with the exact details of Dante the dim intimations of Milton. We will cite a few examples. The English poet has never thought of taking the measure of Satan. He gives us merely a vague idea of vast bulk. In one passage the fiend lies stretched out huge in length, floating many a rood, equal in size to the earth-born enemies of Jove, or to the sea-monster which the mariner mistakes for an island. When he addresses himself to battle against the guardian angels, he stands like Teneriffe or Atlas: his stature reaches the sky. Contrast with these de- scriptions the lines in which Dante has described the gigantic spectre of Nimrod. "His face seemed to me as long and as broad as the ball of St. Peter's at Rome; and his other limbs were in proportion; so that the bank, which concealed him from the waist downwards, nevertheless showed so much of him, that three tall Germans would in vain have attempted to reach his hair." We are sensible that we do no justice to the admirable style of the Florentine poet. But Mr. Cary's translation is not at hand; and our version, however rude, is sufficient to illustrate our meaning. Once more, compare the lazar-house in the eleventh book of the Para- dise Lost with the last ward of Malebolgo in Dante. Milton avoids the loathsome details, and takes refuge in indistinct but solemn and tremend- ous imagery — Despair hurrying from couch to mock the wretches with his attendance, Death shaking his dart over them, but, in spite of suppli- cations, delaying to strike. What says Dante? "There wars such a moan there as there would be if all the sick who, between July and September, are in the hospitals of Valdichiana, and of the Tuscan swamps, and of Sar- dinia, were in one pit together; and such a stench was issuing forth as is wont to issue from decayed limbs." We will not take upon ourselves the invidious office of settling preced- ency between two such write) s. Each in his own department is incompar- 18 able, and each, we may remark, has wisely, or fortunately, taken a subject adapted to exhibit his peculiar talent to the greatest advantage. The Divine Comedy is a personal narrative. Dante is the eye-witness and ear- witness of that which he relates. He is the very man who has heard the tormented spirits crying out for the second death, who has read the dusky characters on the portal within. which there is no hope, who has hidden his face from the terrors of the" Gorgon, who has fled from the hooks and the seething pitch of Barbariccia and Draghignazzo. His own hands have grasped the shaggy sides of Lucifer. His own feet have climbed the moun- tain of expiation. His own brow has been marked by the purifying angel. The reader would throw aside such a tale in incredulous disgust, unless it were told with the strongest air of veracity, with a sobriety even in its horrors, with the greatest precision and multiplicity in its details. The narrative of Milton in this respect differs from that of Dante, as the ad- ventures of Amadis differ from those of Gulliver. The author of Amadis would have made his book ridiculous if he had introduced those particu- lars which gave such a charm to the work of Swift, the nautical observa- tions, the affected delicacy about names, the official documents transcribed at full length and all the unending gossip and scandal of the court, springing out of nothing, and tending to nothing. We are not shocked at being told that a man who lived, nobody knows where, saw many strange sights, and we can easily abandon ourselves to the illusion of the romance. But when Lemuel Gulliver, surgeon, resident at Rotherhithe, tells us of pygmies and giants, dying islands and philosophizing horses, nothing but such circumstantial touches could produce for a single mo- ment a deception of the imagination. Of all the poets who have introduced into their works the agency of supernatural beings, Milton has succeeded best. Here Dante decidedly yields to him; and as this is a point on which many rash and ill-considered judgments have been pronounced, we feel inclined to dwell on it a little longer. The most fatal error which a poet can possibly commit in the management of his machinery, is that of attempting to philosophize too much. Milton has been often censured for ascribing to spirits many iunctions of which spirits must be incapable. But, these objections though sanctioned by eminent names, originate, we venture to say, in pro- found ignorance of the art of poetry. What is spirit? What are our own minds, the portion of spirit with which we are best acquainted? We observe certain phenomena. We can- not explain them into material causes. We therefore infer that there exists something which is not material. But of this something we have no idea. We can define it only by negatives. We can reason about it only by symbols. We use the word; but we have no image of the thing; and the business of poetry is with images, and not with words. The poet uses words indeed; but they are merely the instruments of his art, not its objects. They are the materials which he is to dispose in such a manner as to present a picture to the mental eye. And if they are not so disposed, they, are no more entitled to be called poetry than a table of canvas and a box of colors to be called a painting. , Logicians may reason about abstractions. But the great mass of men must have images. The strong tendency of the multitude in all ages and nations to idolatry can be explained by no other principle. The first in- habitants of Greece, there is reason to believe, worshipped one invisible Deity. But the necessity of having something more definite to adore pro- 19 duced, in a few centuries, the innumerable crowd of -god's,' an tf goddesses. In like manner the ancient Persians thought it impious to exhibit tfiie Creator under a human form. Yet even these transferred to the sun the worship which in speculation, they considered due only to the Supreme Mind. (Students who wish to read the remainder of the essay may find it in the works of the author in the Essay on Milton.) NOTES ON MILTON AND DANTE Contrast between Milton and Dante — their Poetry. A. Poetry of Milton is to Dante's as hieroglyphics of Egypt to pic- ture writing of Mexico. (a) Milton's valuable for suggestion (b) Dante's too detailed, in color, shape, sound, smell and taste. B. Compared in detail. (a) Satan of Milton left to imagination for size. (b) Nimrod of Dante measured by earthly standards. (c) Lazar-house of Milton, loathsome details avoided, has refuge in indistinct but solemn and tremendous imagery. (d) Lazar-house repulsive in carnal details, horror, pain, stench, etc. C. Each incomparable in particular field. (a) Dante is eye-witness and ear-witness; personal narrative. (b) Milton differs here as Amadis from Gulliver. (c) Milton succeeds best of all poets in supernatural, better than Dante. (d) Milton censured for ascribing functions to spirits they are not capable of; this wrong. 1. What is spirit? 2. Mass of people require imagery, attested to by history. (a) First Greeks. (b) Ancient Persians. (c) Jews. (d) Spread of Christianity. 3. Milton lived in age of philosophers, hence spirit clothed ira material form — not possible to take neutral ground. D. Picturesqueness. (a) Dante very picturesque but lacking mystery. Ghosts and demons do not excite awe. Devils spiteful, ugly executioners. Dead nun mere living men under strange situations. Beatrice a woman suitable for streets of Florence. (b) Milton's spirits unique. Fiends not wicked men nor ugly beasts, but huge shadowy outlines of gigantic men. E. Milton more comparable to Aeschus. (a) Aeschylus rugged, barbaric, colossal. Prometheus half fiend, half redeemer, friend of man, sullen and implacable enemy of heaven but talks too much of his chains. (b) Satan of Milton similar — same ferocity, same unconquerable pride, more superhuman, a creature of a larger sphere. 20 F. Character affecting moral qualities of each — personal but not ego- tistical. (a) Milton, loftiness of spirit. (b) Dante, intensity of feeling. B. TRANSPORTATION OF COAL BY FLUME. The unusual geological conditions existing in the Cinnabar coal field have been responsible for the development of several unique methods of transporting the coal from the mines in the mountains to the coking plants located on the railway lines in the valleys. Perhaps the most interesting is a flume, one and three-quarter miles in length, conveying washed coal from the mines at Aldbridge to the bunkers at Electric, a description of which is given by Mr. Robert M. Magraw in Mines and Minerals for November. The flume is economical both in construction and in operation. It consists simply of a rectangular open-top box lined with sheet iron, con- structed of 2-inch planking, with inside dimensions 10 by 10 inches. The lining is No. 26 gauge black sheet iron, shaped at the shops of the company to conform to the section of the flume. In laying, the iron is lapped a few inches in favor of the grade, and if kept in reasonable repair it is practi- cally water tight. The flume is about 9,000 feet in length, the first 3,000 feet having a grade of about 4 feet per hundred. For the next 3,500 feet, the grade var- ies from 15 to 35 degrees. The grade in the remaining section gradually decreases until it again becomes 4 feet per hundred. "All minor gulches are crossed on trestles constructed of 2 by 4 inch lumber, but where, any marked degree of expense would have been entailed by trestling, the flume is curved to conform with the topography of the ground. No trouble was experienced with the curves or changes of grade, but when changing from a steep to a lighter pitch the flume area had to be enlarged for some little distance to allow for the swelling of volume due to the decrease of velo- city." The elevation to be given on curves was easily determined by leav- ing the flume unnailed to stringers on all curves; after the water was turn- ed on it was a small matter to key up the outer edge to the proper eleva- tion. About 50,000 feet of lumber were required per mile of flume and the cost of lumber and erection amounted to about $1,500 per mile. The cost of the iron lining per mile was about $415.80, and shaping and laying, about $75. The total cost of the flume per mile for material and construction was under $2,000, a very good showing in comparison with the cost of a surface tram road over the same ground. "The cost of operation of the flume is practically nil during the warmer months, but during the winter it requires the services of two men for about an hour in the morning to patrol from each end and clean out any masses of snow or slush ice which may have collected after the turn- ing on of the water. The washer is not started during this season until the flume is reported clear. No water is allowed to flow through the flume during the winter months after the washer is shut down for the day, as experience has shown that it freezes from the sides and bottom, and will close the entire flume area in a very short time. The scouring effect of the coal prevents this trouble during the shift. "The cost of maintenance is not great, the principal item being the cost of the sheet iron. The life of the iron used will average about 2 years. 21 Experiments contemplated for the near future are expected to determine the relative efficiency of various weights of iron, as it is thought that a heavier iron, although higher in first cost, will last proportionately longer, thereby decreasing the maintenance account an appreciable degree. It is also intended to equip a section with galvanized iron, and another section with iron of a semi-cylindrical shape." The life of the flume with very little repair, is estimated at 14 years. Taking first cost into consideration, the item of maintenance of the flume is, of course, governed by the volume and velocity of the water. Experience has shown that a flow of 1.58 miners' inches, will transport safely from 35 to 45 tons per hour on a minimum grade of 4 feet to the hundred, and this at practically no cost for operation. No accurate data are at hand showing the varying amounts of coal carried per pound of water for given grades, but the above can be taken as the maximum amount it is safe to transport with this volume of water. It would not be deemed advisable to construct a flume for the pur- pose of coal transportation on less than a 4 per cent grade." NOTES ON TRANSPORTATION OF COAL BY FLUME Paragraph 1 — Transporting coal by flume from the mines at Aldridge to the bunkers at Electric, (a) Most interesting of several methods for transporting coal in the Cinnabar coal fields of Montana, from the mines in the mountains to the coking plants in the valleys. Par. 2 — Flume economical in construction and operation. Construction of flume. 1. Material of flume. (a) Rectangular open-top box lined with sheet iron — 2-inch plank- ing — inside dimensions 10 by 10. (b) Lining is No. 26 gauge black sheet iron. (c) In laying, iron is lapped a few inches, with reasonable repair, practically tight. Par. 3— 2. Laying of flume. (a) 9,000 ft. long — grade varying from 4 ft. per 100 to 35 degrees. (b) Flume usually conforms to topography of ground. (c) Had to be enlarged when changing from a steep to a lighter pitch. (d) Elevation of curves determined by leaving the flume unnailed to stringers. Outer edge keyed up after water was turned on. Par. 4 — Cost of Flume. 1. Material. (a) 50,000 ft. lumber per mile — cost $1,500 per mile. (b) Iron lining and shaping and laying $490.80 per mile. Par. 5— 2. Operation. (a) Practically nil during warmer months; during winter, two men needed to clean out. Par. 6— 3. Maintenance. (a)- Principal item is sheet iron; life is about 2 years. . (b) Life of flume about 14 years. 2 o Par, 7 — Capacity of Flume. (a) Governed by volume and velocity of water. Flow of 1.58 cu. ft. per sec, will transport 35 to 45 tons per hour on minimum grade with practically no cost for operation. III. PLAYS. In taking notes on a play there are no limits which can be set. Here again much will depend upon the requirements of the course. If one is expected to be familiar with the complete works of certain authors or with the works of all authors in a certain period it might be too much to require one to recall the less important details. Often-times the plot is all that is necessary to remember. It is always an advantage to have the cast of characters written down for reference. Perhaps they alone will suffice for notes on certain plays. We give below an example of rather general notes. If you have read the play and need some landmarks to distinguish it from out the great mass which you may have read, these might answer. lee's rival queens Cast of Characters. Alexander the Great Clytus, Master of horse Lysimachus, Prince of blood Hepistion, Alexandria's favorite Cassandra, Son of Antipater Polyperchon, Commander of phalanx Phillip, Brother of Cassandra Thessalus, the Median Aristunder, a Soothsayer Lysigambis, A's mother Statiro, A's wife, daughter of Darius Roxana,,A's first wife Parisatis, Sister to Statira PLOT IN BRIEF STATIRA- LYSIGAMBIS I -ALEXANDER- -ROXANA Parisatis — Lysimachus Statira jealous of Roxana, resolves to retire to convent and never see Alexander again. A. very much disturbed lest she carry threat into execu- tion. He promises fidelity and banishment for Roxana, if she will return to him. She consents. Roxana then very angry from jealousy, goes to Statira's chamber where S. is awaiting the return of A. from a feast, and murders her. As A. arrives the dying S. begs him to spare R's. life. R. also makes appeal because of an unborn babe of which A. is the father. This is the way one student outlined two plays parallel in plot. Mrs. Behn's "The Town Fop" was based on Wilkins' "Forced Marriage." Note how the diagrammatic outline brought out the difference. 23 1. — THE FORCED MARRIAGE, BY WILKINS. his inclination; forced by uncle to marry I I Clare Harcop William Scarborough Kathenne kills herself (grows colder from year to year) I utmost misery I united by parson Happiness 2. — THE TOWN FOP, BY MRS. BEHN. 1 2 —Vows faith-^ ^Marries— \ 3 Celinda Belmorar Diana Friend-love When news of marriage reaches refuses her, disguises herself, disap pears. "Hence no domestic tragedy to have anything to do with wife. Uncle finally relents, marriage annulled (helps alienate B.) Marriage with Celina- If for special reasons detail is required, the following notes on the opening scene of Shakespeare's King Lear might answer. Act I, Scene I, King Lear's Palace. Enter Kent. Gloster, and Edmund Kent and Gloster converse — bring out fact that Lear is impartial to either of the sons in law, Dukes Albany and Cornwall, in proposed disposi- tion of Kingdom; also that Edmund is illegitimate son of Gloster just returned from study abroad. Enter Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Goneri', Began, Cordelia, attendants Lear divides Kingdom in three parts and in order to see which daugh- ter shall get the largest share he questions each regarding her love for him. Goneril claims a love which holds him "dearer than eye-sight, space and liberty"; Regan claims yet more: "to be an enemy to all other joys which the most precious square of sense possesses"; Cordelia, partly because hon- est, partly because her love is "more ponderous than my tongue" cannot please the childish, unreasonable Lear who disowns her. The King of Navarre alone of three suitors for C's. hand is willing to accept her with- out dowry. Kent banished because he tries to get L. to reconsider deci- sion. Exit of C. and K. of N., other suitors. Kingdom divided into equal parts, given to other daughters; L. to retain his title and his bodyguard. 24 Exit all but Regan and Goneril, who comment on the infirmity of L., which may be a menace to them. They form a compact to stand together against this danger. IV. POEMS. Poems are of two kinds, Lyric and Narrative. The lyric poem is short and, properly, expresses a single theme such as love, joy, sorrow, hope, etc. There is no story except as one may be conceived by the imagination. It is simple, short and effective. Many students neglect it in their notes because of its shortness, and simplicity. This is a mistake, especially when there are a great many to be read in the course. One needs something to distinguish them individually later. You should at least record the name of the particular poem, together with the author. Then read the poem carefully at least three times. Your impressions should resolve themselves into one thought. "What is the one theme of the poem?" you should ask yourself. When you are sure that you have it, write it down, together with the conditions under which you infer the thought was sung or spoken. If the meter and rhyme are unusual better make a note of them also. The narrative poem is almost as old as history. It is the early form which comes down to us from a time even before writing existed, when folklore, deeds of war and valor, were hanced down from generation to generation and thus preserved. It is the story in verse, and not unlike other narratives. You should note every point with an eye to detail to the same extent as you do in the play, the essay, or the novel. The following notes from the first five books of Milton's Paradise Lost will, we think, be sufficient to show what may be useful to record. NOTES ON MILTON'S PARADISE I,OST. Book I. Satan and host writhing in burning lake. Beelzebub, the next in rank, regards him and makes comparison of his fallen fortunes with what he had lost. Satan makes the best of a bad matter: "Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven." Beelzebub feels power of S.'s personality and predicts the effect upon the host. Satan gets up and calls to his men. They obey, glad to find their leader not in despair. Army assembles on the plain. Satan addresses them, incites them to war. Defiance expressed by Cheru- bim in flaming swords. Mammon leads hosts to a hill. Mine gold with which to build a temple — Mulciber the architect. Then all enter by com- mand the capitol, Pandemonium to hold council. A miracle performed in order that all the host can enter the palace. Book II. . Satan sits on throne in temple. Moloch speaks: Open war; to arm themselves with hell-flames and fury, and charge Heaven. If not victory, revenge. Belial: Ignoble ease and peaceful sloth in hopes that God will relent. Mammon: Build up Hell to rival Heaven in magnificence. (Great applause from multitude). Beelzebub: Recommends an investigation of newly created earth to see if inhabitants can be made to join forces with them to revenge God. (All vote to do this). Question: Whom shall be sent? Satan volunteers. All begin exploring the region. Geography of Hell: 4 rivers empty into burning lake; Styx (Hate), Acheron (Sorrow), Cocytus (Lamentation), Phlegethon (Rage), Lethe 25 (Oblivion), bound land, beyond a frozen region of perpetual storms. Satan sets out on journey, arrives at gates of 3-fold brass, iron, & rock, guarded by Goblin who opposes S. They fight. His old mistress Sin interferes. Their son Death stands by. She unlocks gate for S. Book III. God looks down with joy on the two first parents. Sees Satan about to enter the Earth, tells what will be the consequence but predicts that man can be saved if someone is willing to be a ransom. The Son of God offers Himself. Accepted and advised. Meanwhile Satan alights on Limbo of Vanity. Then comes to Gate of Heaven. Stairs lead down to Earth. S. changes into a cherub, meets Uriel, asks way to man's habitation. U. points to Paradise. Book IV. S. despairs as he sees man so well provided for, and realizes his own fate. His emotions disfigure features of the cherub he pretends to be, and betray him to Uriel. S. goes into Paradise. Sees Adam and Eve innocent, beautiful and happy. Is jealous. Goes away to plan man's undoing. Meanwhile Uriel descends and warns Gabriel. Two strong angels ap- pointed as guards. Satan found at the ear of Eve as she lies asleep. Taken before Gabriel. He defies them and flies away. Book V. Adam awakes before Eve. She looks as if she had not slept well. He wakes her. Morning prayers. God speaks to Raphael. Raphael comes down to them, wearing three pairs wings. Adam and Eve at mid-day meal. Adam welcomes him. R. tells them of their good fortune, enjoins them to make most of it; "If ye be found obedient". Adam asks what he means. G. te^s of the enemy, warns them, teils events of Satan's fall. First was Chaos, then Heaven. Satan incensed through jealousy of Son whom God placed next to Him in power. Gets legions together to attack God. All follow save Abdiel who first tries to dissuade S. then forsakes him. AFTERWORD A note as to the preparation of this Bulletin should be added here. Realizing the inability of most of our students to take satisfactory notes on lectures and outside reading, I asked Mr. Maxfleld to assemble some examples oi good notes and add to these whatever practical suggestions might occur to him. At the time of the writing of this Bulletin (Mid- winter 1909-1910), there was nothing on the market, so far as I know, in the way of an adequate discussion of this important matter of note taking. Quite recently, however, an excellent pamphlet, prepared by Professor Seward, was issued by Allyn and Bacon. Students will find it profitable to read this book in connection with the present work. W. O. SYPHERD. UHlWElWTVOFIIJLW^^Jf, 3 0112110180806