his audience to fury by showing them Caesar's wounds and holding before
them Caesar's mantle with its rents. Not always can the real object be
produced for these emotional effects, but the teacher can sometimes
bring into the class-room, for the benefit of young pupils, concrete
material such as pictures and work in manual training. He can also call
attention, at times, to the falling snow or the colour of the leaves or
the sky, by asking the pupils to look out of the class-room windows. But
in most cases, he has to be content with trying to recall the memory of
these natural things. This shows how valuable has been the excursion of
the boy into the country, and his experience on holidays by the river
and in the harvest field. The nature study lesson furnishes the material
for future enjoyment of poetry.

The pupils in our schools are very capable in realizing visual imagery.
They can see the visual image very readily with its colour, form, and
movement. They can arrange the objects in the picture with foreground,
background, light, and shade.

But it is quite a different matter when they try to realize auditory
imagery. In the poem _Waterloo_, Fourth Reader, p. 311, they can see the
picture in "bright the lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men". They
see the large ball-room with its glass chandeliers, the costumes of
handsome ladies, the scarlet uniforms and the decorations of the
officers and the nobility. But can they realize the next imagery, that
of sound, "and when music arose with its voluptuous swell"? Do they hear
the squeaking of one or two fiddles or do they hear the voluminous sound
of regimental bands? Do they notice the varying metre from the stately
iambic to the sudden "voluptuous swell" of the foot of three syllables
in waltz time?

These images of sight and sound picture the gaiety and magnificence of
this festive scene, in order to make more marked the contrast with the
fear and pathos of the farewells. This contrast is enforced by the two
auditory images:

And all went merry as a marriage bell;
But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

Can your pupils image the wedding-bells chiming from the cathedral some
afternoon in June, when suddenly the ear catches the sound of a
death-bell tolling from another church? Any reader who cannot realize
the sounds of those two bells with their discordant effects will miss
the intention of Byron.

The pupils, through the sti