# Note-Taking/Chapter 4

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CHAPTER IV SPECIAL PROBLEMS IN NOTE-TAKING
It has been assumed thus far that the problem of taking notes is to condense within convenient compass the substance of an exposition, whether printed or spoken, so as to preserve its most important ideas, and to indicate the relation that these ideas bear to one another. And that is, indeed, the purpose generally served in the actual process of note-taking. But occasions not infrequently arise calling for some special kind of notes, and we are required to adapt our practice accordingly. It then becomes useful to consider definitely some of the conditions we are likely to meet with, and the methods whereby we may, when required, solve the new problem with which they present us. Since some of these problems arise in preserving material gathered from printed sources, and others in reporting the substance of spoken address, it will be convenient to group them under these heads. In dealing with them, we shall take up each separately, as a single problem complete in itself.
REPORTS FROM PRINTED MATERIAL
Summaries of Articles.—Condensation is of course a matter of degree. A sentence may stand for a single paragraph, or for several, or for a whole article. For ​general purposes of note-taking, as we have seen, it is best to retain in the condensed statement not only the substance, but something of the form of the original article. Yet sometimes, when lesser details are not of the utmost importance, it is desirable to condense within very small compass the general purport of an article. If a friend should ask us to sum up for him in a few words the gist of an article we had read, we should need to prepare just such a "summary"—as we may conveniently call it. Perhaps we might wish to preserve for our own use a briefer abstract than would be contained in a set of analytical notes. In either case, the ends to be reached would call for a method of procedure specially adapted to the conditions.
In order that we may think of the conditions as real, rather than merely theoretical, let us assume that we wish to summarize the essay on Robert Louis Stevenson, by Mr. J. J. Chapman, included in his volume entitled Emerson and Other Essays. It is too long an essay to reproduce in full, but a brief analysis of it will be sufficient to indicate the progress of the argument. The following abstract, then, has been prepared for this present purpose, but it will serve as well to indicate roughly the scope and form of "reading notes."
Robert Louis Stevenson
Stevenson's great popularity in the early eighties was due to these circumstances:
    (1) his sole object was to entertain;
    (2) his personality was attractive;
    (3) his heroic fight against disease was admired. ​Noteworthy among his works are:
    (1) The Child's Garden of Verses, unique in its originality and genuine understanding of children; and
    (2) Studies in biography, written with penetration and courage.
Stevenson's lightness and sureness of touch is due to his brilliant ability to mimic the styles of his predecessors. He consciously imitated others' styles in early life, but in maturity, instead of outgrowing his masters, he retained the youthful attitude of mind (for a boy thinks of style as something added to substance, not as an inseparable part of what an author has to say).
This conscious interest in the question of how his artistic strokes will tell results in a kind of literary insincerity. An artist who thus subordinates the expression of his own mind to the object of giving pleasure to others lowers his art, and tends to bring it into disrepute.
In Stevenson's work there is
    (1) an important division of imitative stories:
Treasure Island, imitated from Robinson Crusoe; The Sieur de Maletroit's Door, imitated from a French one-act play;
The Isle of Voices, imitated from the Arabian Nights; Etc. (Yet imitation is unconscious, and not an attempt to appropriate.) Also there are
    (2) a body of ( arabesques fanciful works that attract a tired mind:
New Arabian Nights—burlesque, in genuine spirit of fun, and
    (3) certain special books (Weir of Hermiston, Kidnapped, The Merry Men), which prove to be too perfect—all intention and calculation—unlike the natural buoyancy of Scott's novels.
Examples of Stevenson's natural style and some of his imitative styles.
In spite of the fact that Stevenson has no clear place in ​the history of literature, being rather "a succession of flavors," he is held in high regard, because of
    (1) the genuine desire for culture on the part of people not yet capable of distinguishing the real from the imitation;
    (2) his playfulness of spirit, making serions criticism inappropriate; and
    (3) his courage and lovable spirit, winning for him admiration and personal affection.
Now the essential difference between such an abstract as this and a summary is that, whereas in the former we start with the complete essay and try to represent each part in the compressed form, in the latter we begin with the single idea which is the germ of the whole, and expand it only so far as is necessary to do justice to the intention of the author. In this case the central idea might be expressed baldly in some such statement as this: "Stevenson's writings as a whole lack the maturity and sincerity of purpose that are required of genuinely significant literature." But so condensed a statement is manifestly unjust, not alone because it leaves unexpressed the element of appreciation in Mr. Chapman's estimate of Stevenson, but also because it does not leave a clear idea as to what is meant by this lack of maturity and sincerity. An interested reader might well ask a series of pertinent questions: Are the shortcomings merely negative, qualities that might be found but are not; or are they positive defects, whose presence mars the works wherein they appear? Do all of Stevenson's writings fall under this criticism? If not, which of them are excepted, and why? In order to anticipate these questions it is necessary to ​expand our summary into a short paragraph, somewhat as follows:
A true estimate of Stevenson takes account of the varied and delightful entertainment that his works afford, recognizes the noble courage and the lovable personality shown in his life, and appreciates the penetration of certain eritical essays as well as the originality and genuine value of The Child's Garden of Verses. Yet it is also true that in modelling the styles of his principal works upon the writings of various predecessors, Stevenson failed to outgrow an essentially boyish artistic attitude. His concern for the effect of each artistic stroke is incompatible with the highest artistic sincerity, for the true artist puts the expression of his own mind above all considerations of pleasing the reader. Consequently Stevenson's writings as a whole, valuable though they may be for many readers, amount to little more than pleasant diversions, and lack (with the exceptions noted above) permanent literary significance.
On comparing this summary with the analytical abstract, we observe that there has been no attempt to condense the latter by selecting its more significant phrases. Nor does the summary retain accurately the order in which the ideas are expressed in the original essay. The qualities desired are brevity and accuracy; aud every freedom of method is readily allowed that will result in bringing out the true meaning, properly qualified and emphasized.
The term that we use so readily, the right "shade" of meaning, indicates the delicacy that often distinguishes the accurate from the inaccurate summary; and the more condensed the summary, the greater is the need for careful discrimination. Just as it makes a great difference at the end of a day's sailing whether ​a mariner has laid out his course northeast or north-east-by-east, so it is with us when we aim at an idea: we can afford no inaccuracy in the direction indicated by our words. It is, for example, not enough to be able to say merely that a thing is or is not so; we need to pick out the more precise direction from some such compass-card as this:
In like manner we can distinguish between the implications of single words. Thus, between the extremes of hoping and fearing, certain stages are clearly marked—to anticipate, to expect, and to apprehend. And it makes considerable difference whether we say that a course of action is right, expedient, convenient, desirable, or acceptable. In a summary, then, it is all-important that the shade of meaning be exact. Restrictions of form or method reduce themselves to a minimum, but this very freedom is a stimulating challenge to us that our grasp of thought be firm and our phrasing clear.
Topical Outlines.—Very different from the summary is the form of report that we may call the "topical outline." Its purpose is the same as that of the table of ​contents of a book,—to indicate in their order the subjects with which an article deals. It is useful chiefly for reference, in cases where there is no need of indicating precisely what is said upon the various topics treated. The method is therefore the same as that of the analytical outline, with the exception that headings alone, not complete statements, are sufficient. An outline of Mr. Chapman's essay on Stevenson might take this form:
Reasons for Stevenson's popularity. Stevenson's original works. The "imitative" quality in Stevenson's writing. Sincerity vs. insincerity in art. Classification of Stevenson's works, with examples of imitated styles. Estimate of Stevenson's significance in literature.
Selected Quotations.—Oftentimes it is useful to preserve the most significant parts of an article in the words of the author himself, by means of selected quotations. It might seem at first the easiest method of condensing; as a matter of fact, it is one of the most difficult. The reason is that we are tempted to pick out the most striking passages, only to find, on reflection, that they are not really the most significant. And even if the significant passages are chosen, it sometimes happens that the writer's own words, taken out of their context, do not do justice to the intent of the whole article. Thus, it is striking to hear Mr. Chapman say that "His essay on Burns is the most comprehensible word ever said of Burns." But that statement has nothing to do with the aspect of Stevenson's work with which the essay as a whole has to do. It is more to the ​point when we read, on a later page, "It is not to be expected that posterity will take much interest in him, for his point and meaning are impressional. He is ephemeral, a shadow, a reflection." Yet if we should read these words apart from others in the essay, it would be manifestly unfair to the spirit of the entire criticism. We should hardly know, for one thing, how to reconcile them with others that might be quoted, such as these: "It is not impossible that a man who met certain needs of the times so fully, and whom large classes of people sprang forward to welcome, may in some particulars give a clew to the age." There is need of a longer quotation if we are to give the essential idea of the essay in its integrity. Perhaps the following selection, comprising one complete paragraph and parts of two others, would be best to choose:
That Stevenson's doctrines tend to produce imitative work is obvious. If the artist is a fisher of men, then we must examine the works of those who have known how to bait their hooks: in fiction,—Defoe, Fielding, Walter Scott, Dumas, Balzac.
To a study of these men, Stevenson had, as we have seen, devoted the most plastic years of his life. The style and even the mannerisms of each of them, he had trained him- self to reproduce. One can almost write their names across the pages and assign each as a presiding genius over a share of his work. Not that Stevenson purloined or adopted in a mean spirit, and out of vanity. His enthusiasm was at the bottom of all he did. He was well-read in the belles-lettres of England and the romanticists of France. These books were his bible. He was steeped in the stage-land and cloud-land of sentimental literature. From time to time, he emerged, trailing clouds of glory and showering sparkles from his hands.
​ A close inspection shows his clouds and sparkles to be stage properties; but Stovenson did not know it. The public not only does not know it, but does not care whether it be so or not.
In order to safeguard us, then, from the manifest temptation of misrepresenting an author by quoting his own words, we may have recourse to two methods. One is to select carefully the right passage, even if it be longer than we might wish. In case such a passage contains repetitions or amplifications unnecessary to our purpose, it is permissible to omit them, so long as we indicate in our text the fact that we are doing so. Devices of punctuation that will enable us to do this will be given on a later page under the head of "Punctuation of Quotations." The other method is to introduce a quotation, or to link together a series of them, by words of our own, supplying in summary the necessary context. The relation that such a context may bear to the quotation may be illustrated in the following:
After explaining that a mature writer does not try to imitate another writer's manner because he realizes that an author's style is inseparable from his personality, a part of himself, Mr. Chapman goes on: "But Stevenson was not a man, he was a boy; or, to speak more accurately, the attitude of his mind towards his work remained unaltered from boyhood till death, though his practice and experiment gave him, as he grew older, a greater mastery over his materials."
REPORTS FROM ORAL MATERIAL
Newspaper Reports. Very different from the conditions that we have been considering are those that govern the practice of note-taking for newspaper reports. ​The subject of reporting as a whole lies, of course, outside the province of note-taking as we ordinarily conceive it; for the average newspaper "story" is concerned, not with recording ideas, but with chronicling facts and happenings. Yet there are occasions, as when called upon to report a public address, when the reporter is veritably a note-taker. He uses the larger principles of note-taking, but adapts them to the special conditions under which he works. An examination of these conditions will help explain the methods used in meeting them.
The central fact to grasp is that the reporter is writing not in his own interest, not in the speaker's, nor, it must be said, primarily in the interest of truth. He writes for the readers of his paper, and tells them what they want to know: he adapts his work at all times to the multitudinous audience known as "the public." And though this public differs in character somewhat with different papers, nevertheless it is essentially one in what it demands of the press.
The public desires that an account of a public address shall be truthful; but is less concerned that it be complete. It is probably safe to say that it prefers a report that takes account of only a few points. These can be read quickly and assimilated easily. The public then has the satisfaction of feeling that at a trifling outlay of effort it understands the whole matter perfectly. These few points, it naturally follows, are the ones that seem striking, not necessarily those that the speaker is anxious to stress. Should a speaker, for example, touch upon some matter attracting public attention at the time, or should he express some unusual opinion, the reporter is almost sure to seize upon it as a point of special interest ​to the public. And for the same reason he feels justified in omitting such other points as do not seem to have special interest to his readers. This is said with no intention of approving or condemning current newspaper practice, but merely of recording a fact. The reader who expects the report of an address to be correctly proportioned and emphasized is likely to be disappointed; he will be best satisfied when what seems important to the speaker is deemed by the reporter to be interesting to the public as well.
This question of emphasis calls for some special comment, for it is one of great importance to the reporter. He addresses a body of readers who have no intention of reading his "stories" unless they are promised some special interest in doing so; he competes, as it were, for the attention of his readers against all the rest of the day's news. It is consequently necessary for him to catch his readers' attention at the very beginning, if he is to get it at all. The method, of course, is to put the most striking feature of the report first, where it will most readily catch the eye. If the reader then becomes interested, he will go on to read the entire account. Now it may be, is in fact most likely, that the point of chief importance in an address comes toward the end; but that does not affect the principle of emphasis in the newspaper report. The climax comes first; the rest follows, to be read or skipped at pleasure. True as this is of the main text of a report, it is yet more true when the headlines are taken into account; for these still further condense and emphasize the most striking feature of the address and hold it out as a bait to the casual glance of the reader.
​In the actual writing of the newspaper report there are some special points to observe. The time and place of the address, its occasion, and the nature of the audience, are generally brought in incidentally before the article is well under way. But though this is true of the more important facts, it does not necessarily apply to details, such as the names of those occupying the platform, mention of other less important speakers, estimate of the number present, and so on. Such facts as these are as a rule grouped in a paragraph at the end of the report. The ideas of the address itself are expressed for the most part in indirect discourse. But it is not uncommon to put certain points of special emphasis in the speaker's own words, indicated by quotation marks. These, accordingly, the reporter jots down as near as may be word for word. If he does not take shorthand notes, or have access to the manuscript copy of the text, it is likely that such quotations will not be strictly accurate; but if a fair idea of the sense is brought out, it is considered, under the circumstances, sufficient. Incidental mention of the speaker, in such phrases as "Mr.—— went on to say," is often resorted to in linking together parts of an address and breaking up the continuity of the discourse.
All this may be illustrated by making use of Mr. Chapman's essay on Stevenson, the substance of which has been given on a previous page. It might easily be imagined that Mr. Chapman had delivered an address on the subject before some appropriate society or club. The reporter would at once seize on the fact that the speaker put a lower estimate on Stevenson's work than that held by many of his admirers, and he would there​fore stress, as the most striking feature of the criticism, that part which explains the creative immaturity of Stevenson's writings. Leaving out of account the headlines, then, as belonging to the province of the editor rather than of the reporter, we should be likely to read in the morning paper some such account as follows:
In a well-attended meeting of the Cosmos Club, yesterday evening, Mr. J. J. Chapman, of New York, delivered an address on Robert Louis Stevenson, in which he said that that writer's stories and essays lacked the genuine touch of genius that would make them live in literature. He characterized the author's work as essentially imitative, the expression of a boyish and immature literary spirit. Stevenson, he said, never grew up. He consciously adopted in early life the practice of modelling his style upon the works of his notable literary predecessors, and as he grew older, instead of developing a style distinctively his own, he went on making his brilliant experiments in imitation. "Stevenson was a magician," Mr. Chapman declared, "who came trailing clouds and scattering sparkles; but his clouds and sparkles were stage properties. Stevenson himself did not know this, and his readers did not care, so thoroughly were they under the spell of his wizard-like art." This fact, the speaker went on to say, results in an effect of insincerity that grows upon us as we read, and distinguishes the work of a versatile craftsman, like Stevenson, from the really great works of the giants in fiction—Walter Scott, Dumas, Balzac. Each of these writers Stevenson has in turn used as a model, as well as many others, from which examples were liberally quoted by the speaker.
Mr. Chapman paid a tribute to Stevenson's personal qualities, which have made him widely loved as a man and an author, and expressed the belief that much of the regard in which Stevenson is held is due to public knowledge of the ​courageous fight he waged against physical weakness and disease.
An informal talk by the president of the Cosmos Club, Mr. Albright, upon the future work of the club, followed the main address. Judge Prince, of the Superior Court, was announced as the speaker for the next open meeting, to be held on May 20. His topic will be "The Future of the Juvenile Court."
Newspaper Interviews.—So widely do newspaper interviews differ from one another in purpose, that it is impossible to lay down principles of reporting them that will apply to all cases. They tend to fall into two classes: those which interest the public because they deal with some important or timely subject, and those which deal primarily with the personality of some one in the public eye.
Interviews of this latter kind cover a wide range of subjects, generally connected with the special interests of the individual in question; they take their direction from the queries or suggestions of the interviewer; and they pass freely from subject to subject, after the manner of natural conversation. The report is likely to be chatty in style, interspersed with descriptive touches, informal comments, bits of narrative. Since all this requires a special kind of skill on the part of the interviewer, this branch of reporting is generally intrusted to those who have shown themselves specially qualified for it. The faculties demanded are a quick, accurate memory, as well as self-possession and readiness of address. So wide is the scope for personal adroitness, that there is but little need for general guiding principles. For all these reasons the personal newspaper ​interview is related to the larger subject of note-taking rather in name than in actual method, and so has no large place in our present inquiry.
It is otherwise with the impersonal interview. Since its purpose is to lay before the reader a definite body of facts or opinions, it calls for systematic method, looking to accuracy and reliability of results. It may be assumed that there is always some special reason why the interview is desired,—the timeliness of the subject, the eminence of the one interviewed, his special knowledge of some interesting situation. If the report is to be successful, then, it is necessary not only that the one interviewed be reported accurately, but also that he speak directly upon the desired subject. It is harder to meet these conditions than might seem, at first; but most of the difficulties, we find upon deliberation, resolve themselves into one, and the key to this solves all.
What is this key? Simply the fact that half of the work of interviewing is done before the reporter sends up his card. It is not enough that he be generally conversant with the subject in hand; he must know definitely upon just what aspect of it he wishes to ask questions, just what information he wishes to elicit. With his own purpose thus clearly in mind, he is not likely to find the talk wandering aimlessly away from important and significant issues.
But this definite preparation for an interview accomplishes more than giving clear direction to the talk; it enables the reporter to remember and to record accurately what is said. To the extent that a conversation tends to drift at its own sweet will, it is difficult later ​to recall definitely its shifting course. But if a reporter bas thought out carefully in advance just what he wishes to learn, and especially if he has considered the various opinions that might be held upon the subject he is investigating, by so much the more is he likely to recall definitely not only the substance but even the very words of an opinion expressed in his hearing. A reporter finds neither time nor opportunity, as a rule, to jot down at the moment the substance of what he hears; yet he is supposed to report it accurately in his public article. Clearly he is best in a position to do this, if he has a keen curiosity about the subject, a clear grasp of its various aspects, and a tentative theory as to what Mr. X will probably have to say upon it.
As soon as convenient after the interview is over it is wise to make accurate jottings of the talk, so far as possible in the words actually used. The mind will carry the general substance of an interview a long time, but the details, the little turns of speech that give naturalness and vivacity to the written account, soon fade, and so cannot be too quickly committed to paper. The final writing can then be done at leisure. In this process there is no need for a strict following of the order in which several topics may have come up in the actual conversation. In fact, there may be special reasons for changing the order, putting first, at the place of greatest emphasis, matter that came up comparatively late in the interview. As in the case of the reported lecture, the material may be presented either as a summary, in the reporter's words; or in the exact words of the speaker, indicated by quotation marks; or in a combination of the two; but the more free the use of direct ​quotations, the more vivid and interesting is the result generally found to be. In the interest of vividness, too, it is sometimes found useful to indicate the manner of the speaker, his expression or gestures.
Let us imagine, for the sake of example, that Mr. Huxley has aroused public interest in the subject of educational ideals by the lecture from which a quotation was made in the first chapter of this book, and a reporter has been sent to interview the speaker on the issues raised by his lecture. The report of the interview might come out in some such form as this:
When found at his rooms at The Brunswick yesterday morning, Mr. Huxley expressed amused surprise that his conception of a liberal education, as laid down in his recent lecture, had aroused special comment among his hearers. Seated comfortably in his chair, and smoking a favorite pipe, he chatted freely on the topic, which he declared had long been a hobby of his.
"Why should it seem strange," he asked, "to pattern our educational ideals on the methods that Nature herself has been using from the beginning of time? We may try, if we choose, to be uneducated, but Nature does not allow us wholly to succeed. Conceive a man suddenly placed in the world, as Adam is said to have been, and then left to do as best he might. Pleasure and pain would be at his elbow at once, telling him to do this, to avoid that. And the result would be an education, not very broad, perhaps, yet adequate to his circumstances, with no extras and very few accomplishments.
"But you ask me whether this sort of education necessarily stops with scientific study of the so-called Laws of Nature? By no means." And here he leaned forward, frowning in his earnestness. "That's the great mistake that shallow people are always making; they can't see that Nature means more than merely physical nature, that it in​cludes men, in all their relations with one another. And that being the case, of course it follows that a man must train himself to meet his obligations to his fellow-man, must train his passions at all times to obey his will, and his will to be ever obedient to conscience. A sense of beauty, reverence, high standards of personal conduct,—all these things are inevitably included in any education that is to be considered liberal.
"Of course," he went on, "Nature herself does not supply all of this directly. Man has to intervene to supplement Nature's methods, to anticipate her punishments and her rewards as well. This is what may be called artificial education, as opposed to the informal education that Nature forces on all of us. But the two, it must be remembered, are always in harmony, and Nature herself points out the end and suggests the means."
When asked how this idea might be carried out in practice, Mr. Huxley smiled quietly, as to an oft-repeated question. "That," he said, "is a larger matter than there's time to go into now. But certainly this is true that more recognition will be given in the future to training and investigation in the Natural Sciences than has thus far been given. However, I shall devote a lecture to that special question two weeks hence, and it may be best not to anticipate it now."
Mr. Huxley has been very busy during his stay in the city, and is considerably fatigued in consequence. After his lectures are over he plans to spend three weeks in complete rest at the country home that a friend has put at his disposal.
MECHANICAL PROCESSES
The Note-book.—The usefulness of good notes depends in no small degree upon the kind of note-book used. What that kind shall be rests, of course, largely with the convenience and taste of the one taking notes, and ​there is a wide range for individual choice. Wise method, however, will not be merely arbitrary or accidental, but will be based upon careful consideration of the special circumstances involved. The whole matter can best be explained in detail.
If the shape and size of the note-book depended wholly on the convenience of the writer in carrying about, it would be easy to select a page of small size, perhaps specially narrow, convenient for the pocket. But the narrower the note-book page, the less easy it is to organize notes upon it, with margins of varying depth. The larger the page, on the other hand, the more clearly does an outline form, with all its devices of organization, stand out clear to the eye, like a map. For elaborate notes, therefore, especially if they are to contain much in the way of diagrams or tables, the page of 8x10 inches is specially convenient. For ordinary purposes, however, the page of half the size (5x8 inches) has several distinct advantages; it is a standard size, easy to obtain; it is easy to carry with other books; and if desired, it can be used for correspondence, and folded once into a square envelope of standard size.
The choice between bound and loose-leaf note-books is one for individual decision, with certain obvious advantages in favor of the latter. Although loose-leaf note-books generally imply punched sheets with some device for holding them together, it is well to remember that unpunched sheets may be used, either in a folder or in a strong Manila envelope. The most obvious advantage of such a system is that sheets for several subjects can be carried in a single package, and then distributed at convenience. And it may be further ​noted that if sheets of medium size (say 5x8 inches) be fitted to a folder, a few sheets of double size can easily be folded in, ready for any occasion. When notes for several subjects are carried together, it is obviously better to write on one side of the sheet only; and if proper selection of paper be made, the difference in expense need be but slight.
However wide the range for individual choice in the selection of type of note-book, it is of the utmost importance to determine upon some system and then stick consistently to it. It not only simplifies the matter of writing notes, but makes the notes when written convenient and accessible.
Abbreviation of Words.—In the actual process of writing notes, it is very useful to be able to abbreviate words rapidly, yet clearly; and for this purpose a system is necessary. Each note-taker, of course, will employ a system suited to his own taste and personal needs, yet there are certain suggestions that may be of general service, especially for those who have not yet perfected their own individual systems.
In general, it is unwise to carry abbreviations so far that it becomes difficult in review to read what has been put down. Both speed in writing and legibility later are best attained when abbreviations are so systematized that the writer uses them consistently and instinctively, wasting no time in determining for each special case what to shorton and how to shorten it. Three Don'ts may here be suggested. (1) Don't abbreviate by leaving out letters in the middle of a word; as, alst for almost, hlth for health, prly for poorly. With the exception of a few standard abbreviations such as mase, hdkf, ​etc., such contracted forms lose far more in legibility than they gain in the ease of writing. (2) Don't use one abbreviation for more than one word; as, cl for cell and clearly, or fr for for and from. (3) Don't use ingenious forms that call up other associations; as, 2 for to,? for question, ex for from, etc.
In the following table is given a system of abbreviations that, when once mastered, will save many a pen stroke, and yet result in a manuscript perfectly easy to read. The chief advantage, however, of this or any other system, is not in the theory of it, but in familiar practice. Satisfaction comes when the pen writes the shorter form instinctively, and the eye re-translates it to its original form without effort.
I. Standard abbreviations: ex, example; exam, examination; ave, avenue; N. Y., New York; etc.
II. Special abbreviations for special subjects. Thus, for a history student: hist, history, -ical, -ian; econ, economy, -omic; const, constitution, -al; govt; rep; conserv; etc.
III. Simplified spelling tho, program, foto, etc.
IV. Common words (phonetic, as far as possible):
| are, r | is, z | that, tt | which, wh |
| be, b | not, n | the, e | with, w |
| from, fr | of, v | this, th | |
V. Signs and, &; but > ; therefore, ∴
An example of the system, applied, follows:
Yet no phenom z more amaz than tt v speech. Nor can any process b imag more complicated than it by wh e vocab v a highly devel lang, like Eng, comes into exist & fits itself to e multifar needs v civilized man in ​e utterance v thot & emotion. If to e process v oral speech we add e correl processes v read & writ we have a series phenom wh no thinking man can contempl wout a kind v awe.
Lang z e expression v thot by means v words: i.e., by means v signs va peculiar sort made w e vocal organs. Since e tong zone v e most import v these organs, & since we r habitu conse v using it in articulation, we often call our lang our 'tong,'—& e word 'lang' itself z derived, thro e Fr., fr lingua, e Lat. name for tt organ.
References and their Abbreviation.—There is frequent occasion in note-taking to refer to books and articles, and especially to certain passages in them; for which purpose a scholarly system of references is most valuable. Too great care cannot be exercised in indicating the source of all material gathered from printed documents, and in putting such references in accurate, consistent form. In the case of books it is customary to write first the name of the author (generally with initials following the surname), and then, after a colon, the title of the book, underscored to indicate italics. The name of the publisher and the date of publication, enclosed in parentheses, make it easier for librarian or bookseller to find and identify the volume. When the reference is to a particular passage, there is need for greater exactness. The name of the chapter is sometimes sufficient; but in some works the number of the volume, or part, requires mention as well. If the reference be by page, it is in all cases important to indicate the edition used, in order to prevent confusion with another edition in which the pagination may be ​different. For this purpose the name of the publisher and the date should be given, as well as such indication of volume or edition as may be needed.
References to magazine articles include the volume and page of the periodical, and often the date as well, enclosed in parentheses. It must be remembered that the files of a magazine are sometimes numbered in more than one series, in which case the words old or new series should be prefixed to the number of the volume.
Biblical references are indicated by book, chapter, and verse. Similarly, Roman and Arabic numerals in a series are used to identify a passage from a play; but in this case differences in individual texts make it all-important to indicate the edition used. The whole subject of references is illustrated in the following examples, which may be used as models for practical use: Channing, Edw.: History of the United States (Macm. 1908), vol. II, chap. X.
Ruskin, John: Modern Painters, vol. II, part III, sect. I, chap. V, § 16.
Harrison, F.: Culture: A Dialogue, from The Choice of Books, &c. (Macm. 1907).
Pepys, Samuel: Diary, ed. A. B. Wheatley (G. Bell & Sons, 1898), vol. III, p. 161.
Bruce, J. D.: ed. Le Morte Arthur, E.E.T.S., extra series, no. 88.
Crozier, J. B.: The Condition of England Question, Fortnightly Review, new series, 73:70 (Jan. '03). Shakespeare: The Tempest, I, ii, 396-404 (Cambr. ed.). 2 Chron. xxxii: 21.
Punctuation of Quotations.—It may be presumed, of course, that the rules for punctuating quotations are ​well understood in their ordinary application; but it may be useful, nevertheless, to review certain matters of usage in their special relation to note-taking. The mistake most commonly made is to put in quotation marks a passage that is not given in the exact words of the text. Thus, if we had before us the passage from Huxley on A Liberal Education, quoted in the first chapter of this book, we might be inclined to write as follows:
Huxley opens his discussion by making the supposition that "the life and fortune of every one of us depends upon his winning or losing a game of chess."
The sense is accurate, but the phrasing, if we look carefully, is not. The remedy is to include in quotation marks only such part of the text as may be quoted exactly; in this case, "his winning or losing a game of chess." It may be that only a word or a phrase is thus quoted; but it is enough to show that we are following the ideas of the author accurately, with an eye upon the actual words he uses.
If a sentence that we are quoting contains a pronoun without explanatory antecedent, the omission may be supplied in square brackets without pausing to make a break in the quotation, thus:
"Well, I know not what may be your conception upon this matter [the idea of a liberal education), but I will tell you mine, and I hope I shall find that our views are not very discrepant."
When we wish to quote in part from a passage, we may indicate omissions at any point, without pausing to repeat quotation marks, by the use of a series of periods. The same passage will serve for illustration:
​"And by way of a beginning, let us ask ourselves What is education? Above all things, what is our ideal of a thoroughly liberal education? . . .
"Well, what I mean by liberal education is . . . the instruction of the intellect in the laws of Nature, under which name I include not merely things and their forces, but men and their ways. . . . For me, education means neither more nor less than this. . . ."
EXERCISES FOR OUTSIDE WORK
1. Selecting three suitable paragraphs, each independent of the others, copy them, appending to each a condensed statement of the thought. (Assignments of copying give good opportunity to get practice in using a system of abbreviating words. Compare Exercise 11.)
2. Condense the successive paragraphs of a chapter or article, each in a single sentence, without attempting to organize the resulting notes. (It may be advisable sometimes to treat more than one paragraph as constituting a single unit.)
3. Condense as in the preceding exercise, and then go over the notes, underscoring the important items and putting subsidiary items in parentheses.
4. After being provided with a series of brief headings, indicating in outline form the chief divisions of an assigned chapter or article, expand this outline into a complete analysis, properly organized and indented.
5. Choosing some appropriate chapter or article, mark all transition phrases or sentences that introduce important divisions. With the help of these prepare a brief topical outline of the chapter or article, in the ​form of headings, enclosing in parentheses under each heading the transition that introduces it.
6. Take the best notes possible in some regular lecture course. With these as a basis, write up another set of notes outside of class, making as many improvements as possible, and hand in both versions for comparison.
7. Choosing some appropriate chapter or article, prepare an analytical outline of it, employing all useful devices for indicating plan.
8. Using as material a chapter or article for which an analytical outline has been prepared, write a brief summary of the subject and hand it in with the outline.
9. Selecting some magazine articles of public interest, mark the passages that seem specially important or significant. Prepare then an abbreviated version of the article, so far as convenient in the words of the text, introducing and connecting the quoted passages by means of explanatory sentences.
10. Condense the same article, first by means of selected quotations and then by means of a summary.
11. Using some passage that either is known by heart or is at least familiar, write it out according to an accepted system of abbreviation. (In this practice it is more helpful to write from memory or from dictation than to copy from the printed page, with the eye constantly on the text.)
12. From histories and books of reference collect a series of quotations about Queen Elizabeth, giving accurately the reference for each case.
FOR CLASS WORK
1. Read aloud from a passage that deals with an interesting, suggestive idea, while the class listens attentively; but stop before the idea is completed. Have the members of the class write down a question that they expect to find answered in the remaining part. Compare results, and then read the conclusion, observing how correctly the members have anticipated the expected point.
2. Read aloud a paragraph that deals with a single idea, directing the class to listen carefully but not to make jottings. Then give reasonable time (say five minutes) for the class members to formulate briefly the idea of the paragraph and write it down. Good and bad specimens of the resulting notes may be mimeographed and distributed later for criticism by the class.
3. Using a well-organized set of notes as material, have the items mimeographed in uniform succession, obliterating all evidence of organization. Distributing these copies to the class members, have them rewrite the notes, restoring the original organization so far as possible from the evidence of the text.
4. Read aloud a passage in which a main idea is supplemented by subordinate ideas and illustrative details, while the class makes such jottings as seem use​ful. Then give reasonable time for the class members to work up their jottings into good form, emphasizing the central idea and relating subsidiary material to it, perhaps by means of subordinate clauses or parenthetical additions.
5. Proceed as in the previous exercise, but have the class condense the passage in the best form possible while it is being read. Allow time later for such revision as seems desirable.
6. After selecting a passage of several paragraphs, provide the class with a series of brief headings, one for each paragraph. Then read the passage, while the members of the class expand the successive headings into complete, adequate statements.
7. Providing each member of the class with a syllabus on a given subject, read or deliver a lecture on the basis of the syllabus, while the class members expand the syllabus outline into complete analytical notes.
8. Have the class prepare analytical notes on a lecture without the help of a syllabus. Then distribute copies of a syllabus, directing the class to write up an improved set of notes outside of class, with the help of the syllabus.
9. Read aloud a passage from a well-organized lecture, while the class take analytical notes. Let the members then look over their notes, marking any imperfections of substance or organization that they observe. Then reread the passage, while the members of the class take a second set of notes that shall correct the imperfections of the first.
​10. Read or deliver a carefully prepared lecture, paying special attention to the transitions, and have the members of the class prepare analytical notes, employing all useful devices for indicating plan.
11. Deliver a lecture into which digressions have purposely been introduced, while the members of the class take notes. Call attention later to the difference between the material suitable for the note-book and that which may better be omitted.
12. Read or deliver an address such as might be delivered on some public occasion, informing the class of such circumstances of time, place, audience, and so on, as it may be useful to imagine. Have the members of the class make jottings in their note-books to be worked up later into "copy" suitable for newspaper use.
13. Invite the members of the class to "interview" the instructor, imagining him to be a certain public character in a given set of circumstances, as agreed upon. Then have the class write up the interview outside of class, in a form suitable for publication.