SOME VITAL CHARACTERISTICS OF GOOD STORIES-religious

Avoid moralizing, for if a story is ,good enough to tell it will do its own teaching. — Carnegie Library, Pittsburg.

A story should move with directness and force, like an arrow to its mark. — Gardiner, Kittredge, and Arnold.

The normal boy would rather read of a good boy than of a bad one, if the good one will only do something. He will have action, good or bad. — Warren F. Gregory.

Explanation and moralizing are mostly sheer clutter. Every epithet or adjective beyond what is needed to give the image is a five-barred gate in the path of the eager mind traveling to a climax. — Sara Cone Bryant.

The true artist never thrusts his purpose upon you in awkward fashion, but it pervades his whole work as the soul does the body. — E. F. Andrews. The chief reason why some people cannot tell stories is because they have no story to tell. — Anna Buckland.

Merely to string a series of incidents together is not to tell a story. Much of the effect of the story depends upon the group¬ing of the incidents; the setting of the telling points in strong light and duly subordinating minor details. — Marvin R. Vincent.

climax

The climax must not be missed, for without it there is no story. Whatever tends to obscure it or weaken its force lessens the story's power. Usually it is more impressive if there is something of surprise involved; with the humorous story this is absolutely essential. If the story is to leave a moral impression, the moral lesson must depend upon the climax itself.

Important as the climax is, if one has the moral aim in view the way in which the story is to end needs careful consideration. First of all it should appear that the story has really arrived at the stopping place. Thus far event has succeeded event, and the outcome has been in doubt. Until the final issue of a course of conduct appears, no effective moral lesson can be based upon it. Again, while the attention is centered on an unsolved problem there can be no meditation on what has gone before. The nickel novel that closes with the hero cling¬ing to a snapping branch that extends over a precipice two hundred feet in height does not defeat its purpose, for the aim is to sell another book; but if one would have a story teach a lesson, the mind must be left at rest, ready to turn back and think again of the deeper meaning of the tale. This ending of a story, however, must not be confused with the appending of a " moral ": that would serve to put an end to the interest of the hearer rather than to the action of the tale.

Every good model enforces the rule that is indicated above. The fairy-tale ends with the classic phrase, "And they lived happily ever after." In the average novel it is when the villain dies and the hero wins his bride that the story ends. True, there may be a strenuous life awaiting the wedded pair, but" that is another story."

CAREFUL study of good models is one of the best guides to success in the story-teller's art. A few hints may serve to aid the student to discover the sources of their strength. The more clearly these are defined the more easily will he make the method of their authors serve him in his work before his class. Among the qualities that give value to stories that of suggestiveness or meaning is among the most important. It is surely legitimate to tell stories simply to entertain, but when we test them from the point of view of the teacher of morals this is invariably the prime requisite. If we depend upon the story method in our teaching we must be sure that the story has a message for the learner and one that cannot be missed. It is not enough that it be capable of such an explanation or interpretation that a truth may be implied; the moral must be embedded —or better still, embodied—in the story itself. In the best stories the narrative and the lesson are so fully one that it is impossible to eliminate the last with- a out destroying the story itself. It is because of this that some stories have had such power to influence many gen¬erations of men, and this explains how a single phrase serves to call up their whole significance. The words "sour grapes," "dog in the manger," "Damon and Pythias," and "the cross" would not be so laden with meaning if the teachings of the stories which they bring up had been only incidental, instead of the very essence of the stories themselves. Louise Seymour Houghton calls attention to the great superiority of moral influence in the stories of Genesis as compared with those of Judges, and explains it by showing that in the Pentateuch the old traditions have been so worked over that the moral lessons are a part of the stories themselves, while the author of Judges merely gave them a didactic setting. Henry van Dyke's prayer that he may never tag a moral to a tale or tell a story without a meaning may well be adopted by the teacher. To add a moral application to a story is as complete a confession of failure as to append an explanation to a joke. This statement is, of course, not true where the aim is to reveal truth to some and conceal it from others, as in some of the parables of Jesus, or where the story is purely illustrative, being designed simply to aid the intellect to grasp an idea. If a good story is well told moralizing is not necessary; but that is not all. It has been clearly demonstrated that it weakens the moral influence. Psychologists have for¬mulated the law that the power of normal suggestion varies inversely with the extent to which its purpose is definitely revealed. The mother who says to a child, "Why don't you go out on the lawn and see how many dandelions you can pick ?" is likely to secure a period of privacy, but if she adds, "so that I can be alone for a little while," the result will not be the same. Children resent the old-fashioned Sunday-school stories with their too obvious moral purpose, but are strongly influenced by transcripts of life in which the same duties are clearly implied, but not explicitly stated. So adults are often more strongly influenced by a play like The Servant in the House than by many sermons.

Usually the story's lesson should be of positive type — that is, it should set forth what one wishes the hearer to do; still stories of warning have their place and many of the old favorites are of that kind. The familiar story of The Little Half-Chick is an excellent illustration of the type. It is entirely legitimate that the story should represent the violation of the precept that one would enforce, provided it chiefly emphasizes the fact that the wrong-doing meets a punishment which far overbalances the pleasure gained. The story still has its unmistakable moral meaning. Some painful stories are saved from immorality by the sad ending. Admitting the supreme importance of the story's moral implications, one realizes that much otherwise attractive material must be rejected by the teacher. A considerable number of the old fairy-and folk-tales in which success follows dishonesty or unjustifiable selfishness at once come to mind. As in the case of the classic myths some of these can be so edited as to remove the objectionable features. In some cases the effort is unsuccessful, as it leaves the story so weakened that it is no longer of value. No teacher need waste time in such a fruitless attempt. A simple test will at once reveal whether such editing is possible or not. If the immoral element is essential to the climax of the story, the case is hopeless. If, on the other hand, it has to do with one of the less essential steps which lead up to or down from the vital turning- point of the tale, we may confidently hope to reconstruct that step without lessening the story's power. Thus we have here only the negative statement of the rule already affirmed, that the moral lesson should be the very es¬sence of the story itself. Next in importance to the quality of suggestiveness is that of unity. Every good story exemplifies it. It im¬plies limitation to one set of related events, the exclusion of unnecessary characters and incidents, emphasis upon one moral lesson, and usually, if the story is brief, the stirring of one kind of feeling. The story should be a logical unit and should be treated as such. Here the hand of a master is especially revealed. Some¬times in the early chapters of an extended novel characters are introduced in a bewildering succession. They move in varying social strata, different lines of action appear in widely separated countries. The reader wonders how they can be brought into any relationship with each other, but as the plot unfolds the lines steadily converge, and when the end comes he finds that each person and each event has a natural and an essential place. With such a masterpiece compare a book like David Harum, which may be used for illustration because it was so 'widely read not long ago. It really consists of a few ex¬ceptionally good short stories which, in the attempt to convert them into a novel, are bound together by a thread of romance too weak to bear their weight. We all remember David Harum and the horse trade, and almost as many of us have forgotten the lay figure who passes for a hero, and his inconsequential love affair. But it is in the short story that the importance of unity most clearly appears. The novice tends to wandering and diffuseness, and labors with useless details. He fears that to cut out incidents, though they are not really essential, would lessen the interest of the tale; but the study of the best models reveals the contrary result. In them there is, indeed, no lack of incident, but here all is significant. Even the choice of a synonym, the turn of a phrase, the rhythm of a sentence is part of an artistic whole. Such beautiful examples as the charming alle¬gorical stories of Laura Richards, in using which one is almost constrained to memorize lest he change a word, were not achieved by chance. They must be the result of patient and faithful effort after the choice of a definite aim and the selection of a consistent plan which has been .o loyally followed that every smallest detail contributes to the one impression. The parables of Jesus are splendid illustrations. Almost without exception they are marvels of unity and condensation. The story of the Prodigal Son is excep¬tional in that it carries a double lesson, but in our use of it we commonly ignore the lesser one. Who thinks of the elder brother when the story is mentioned ? An especially good example is found in the story of the rich man in Luke 12:16-20, which is not too long to quote in full. "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully: and he reasoned within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have not where to bestow my fruits ? And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, be merry. But God said unto him, Thou foolish one, this night is thy soul required of thee; and the things which thou hast prepared, whose shall they be ?" It would be difficult to omit a single word; nor would it be easier to expand it without loss of effect. In its unity and conciseness its strength largely lies. The Bible stories generally, the fables of iEsop, and indeed most of the old classics, as well as the best modern examples, show the same characteristic. It is a safe rule which declares that what does not further the story's specific aim really lessens its power. Some apparent exceptions will upon careful study be found to enforce the rule. Uninteresting characters are introduced that the hero's qualities may be more effectively set forth. Descriptions of natural scenery not only give a local setting to the events, but may also be used to stir the feelings which forecast an approach¬ing climax. Trivial happenings may reveal motives upon which the whole plot of the story turns. That this second principle reenforces the first is clearly apparent. If a story really has a meaning, the more closely the principle of unity is followed the less will be the tendency to supplement ineffective story-telling by moralizing. "Do not make the story taper toward a single point, the moral point," says Felix Adler, but without doubt it is the moralizing habit that he has in mind. Really the principle of unity implies just that, though it is not to be advertised or revealed in advance. It is the clumsy and mechanical way in which it is often done that we must avoid. Given certain characters and certain situa¬tions, the outcome is practically sure. In life the moral is always present; the story should simply present such facts as will permit it to appear. A third important characteristic of the effective story is action. It has been said that the story is a transcript of life, and in real life it is the things that are done that count. It is true that thought and feeling are the virgin ore, but they do not pass current until they have been coined into deeds. Words at best stand in the relation of a paper currency, and too often one that is unduly inflated. We distrust the sincerity of the man who talks much about his feelings. Tell us what he does and we can draw our own conclusions. So the story is most effective which presents life in the concrete and permits the hearer to make his own interpretation. Miss Vostrovsky's suggestive study shows that in young children the interest in what was done leads all others, and that they put several times as much emphasis upon action as upon moral qualities, sentiment, feeling, esthetic details and dress combined, while the thoughts of the actors received no mention at all. It is well known that adolescent boys demand "something doing" in their books, and in adults interest in action has hardly decreased. Again the best models reveal appreciation of these facts. A single example must suffice. Dr. Hervey has called attention to this in connection with one of the parables of Jesus. The one quoted above is a still better example. Of its one hundred and seven words, thirty- three are verbs. Its movement compels our interest. Miss Vostrovsky's study does not show that children do not respond to moral instruction, but that if the lessons are to be effective they must be put in terms of life. It is not otherwise with men. Ages ago the law said, This do, and thou shalt live, and men broke the law and paid its penalty. Then came Jesus, living a life, and saying, Follow me; and what the law could not do because it was weak, the story of the gospel has accomplished. It takes life to influence life, and life is action.

1.	Suggestiveness. a. Its vital relation to the story's climax. 6. The danger of pointing the moral. c. The positive and the negative forms. 2.	Unity. a.	Its meaning. b.	How attained. c. The parables as illustrations. 3. Action. a.	The source of its influence. b.	Its place in good models. c. It is life that is influential.