THE STUDY OF PICTURES
Children delight in pictures. Every child-lover knows how intently and
with what delight the baby’s eyes gaze upon the pages of the beloved
picture book, long before the words which describe the picture can be
spoken or even understood by the young student. The childish chatter
is an attempt to express the delight in the treasure and the thoughts
suggested by the picture.
As the child grows older, pictures continue to be a source of pleasure.
He names the familiar objects, talks about them, asks questions about
them. Thus he unconsciously grows in the power to see and to tell what he
sees, taught by the many willing helpers who turn the pages of his book
and interpret its pictures.
Many a new idea creeps into the child’s mind by the path of the picture
book. Many an object which would be entirely foreign to his experience
otherwise, becomes familiar through its pages. Every new book put into
his hands is first challenged by him to discover whether it contains
pictures, and it is the pictures that first excite his desire to learn to
read the story which they illustrate.
We cannot estimate the contribution which such books make to both
knowledge and vocabulary. Most of us can think of scenes which we know
only through their pictured semblances, yet seem to know well. We can
remember our first glimpses of scenes that pictures had made familiar.
How friendly, how well known they seemed! How we were _used_ to them!
Niagara, Westminster Abbey, the Pyramids, the Alps, are known to many of
us only through pictures. Are we entirely ignorant, then, of their beauty
or their grandeur? When our eyes first look upon them, shall we not greet
them as already a part of our possession?
We have been slow, in our school work, to follow the teaching of
children’s experience. Although we have always known and always
recognized the child’s interest in pictures, we have not used them in the
school-room to the extent that they might have been used, nor in such a
manner as to yield the greatest advantage.
The writer remembers a class of children in whose hands were placed
some new readers beautifully illustrated with full-page pictures. The
new books, which had just been brought into the room, were given to the
children with the brief direction, “Turn to page 85 and begin reading at
the top of the page.”
“Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs not to make reply.”
The obedient fingers turned to the page indicated, and the curious eyes
were allowed no moment to linger over the pages which tempted them with
their fascinating pictures. Yet here was the “Delectable Land,” which
might have been opened to them to their lasting advantage. Here the
children’s interest was assured, and no artificial incentive needed to be
presented.
Another class, under similar conditions, had a different experience.
“Here are new books,” the teacher said to the children. “You will enjoy
reading these stories, I know. But you will find pictures in them as well
as stories. Before we read let us look at the pictures and enjoy them.”
The children eagerly opened the books. They found, as a frontispiece, a
copy of Rosa Bonheur’s “Norman Sire.”
The children talked about the picture, compared the horse with horses
that they knew, admired the noble head, the fine eyes. As they turned
the pages of their books they found other pictures of animals, “The
Lions at Home” and “Coming from the Fair.” Their comments were free,
their questions ready. Nobody thought of the picture as a picture. The
conversation centred about lions and horses only, and expressed the
children’s interest in animals.
It was the teacher who called the attention of the children to the
name written underneath the first picture, “Rosa Bonheur.” This, they
inferred, must be the name of the one who made the picture.
The teacher then explained that the pictures in the book were copied from
photographs of the original pictures which the artist painted. If the
children were to see the painting they would find it colored and much
larger than the copies.
Looking again and with a new interest at the other pictures, the children
discovered the same name written below them. “Did Rosa Bonheur paint
this picture, too?” “And this?” “Did she paint any others?” “Does she
paint now?” These questions answered, the children asked, “Who painted
the picture of the little girl tending the baby?” “Is this the painter’s
name under the picture?” “Yes, Meyer von Bremen. On this page you will
find another picture of his.” The children found the picture of “The Pet
Canary,” and talked earnestly about it. “I like that picture. I wonder
if this is the same little girl.” “What queer chairs!” “What a funny
window!” “This girl has been knitting, too.”
The teacher threw some light upon the German interior, explaining that
this was a picture of a home in the country where the artist lived. Then
she questioned, “What did Meyer von Bremen paint for you?” “Children,”
was the ready response. “And what did Rosa Bonheur paint?” “Animals,”
came quite as readily. “Do the pictures tell you anything about the
artists?” The children hesitated. “You remember ‘The Children’s Hour’?”
suggested the teacher. “You thought that Mr. Longfellow wrote about
children”—“Because he loved children,” volunteered a child, as the
teacher paused. “I should think Meyer von Bremen liked children, too,”
observed another, thoughtfully. “And Rosa Bonheur must like animals,”
added a third.
They turned again to the pictures, and decided, after some discussion,
that Rosa Bonheur not only loved animals, but was able to make us love
them better by her painting.
The books were closed and carefully put away till time could be given
for the reading, which the children now so earnestly desired. The lesson
had been a simple one. To some casual observers it might have seemed no
lesson at all. “Just looking at pictures!” But it opened to the pupils
a new line of thought, and served to illuminate both picture and text.
When the children read, the pictures, now made to interpret the text,
themselves became teachers.
Though seemingly incidental, the lesson pointed toward such study of
pictures as should obtain in every school. One of the greatest pleasures
of life is the delight in art, the creations of minds that enjoy the
beautiful, and know how to make the world beautiful for others. We have
learned to give to young children the poems which the world treasures.
They commit these to memory. They learn to sing the hymns which the
greatest of musicians have composed. In poetry, in music, we have begun
to learn how to teach. But should we not teach the children to know and
to love good pictures, as well as good poems and good music?
In too many of our homes the picture is a stranger. Such teaching as
tends to interest the children in the picture gallery or the art museum
opens another avenue of pleasure and profit, adds one more resource to
the lives which must often be hindered and bound. By all means, let us
begin it, and learn how to use the wealth of material which lies at our
hand.
In a Boston school the teacher has established a loan collection of
pictures. The children have the privilege of keeping for a week the
framed pictures which they choose to carry home. They learn to enjoy the
pictures, and, so to speak, to read them. They look with new interest at
all other pictures which come in their way, comparing them with the ones
they have come to know. They visit the art museum and study the original
from which their pictures are copied. Their lives are enriched by such
teaching, their minds are furnished with pleasant memories, and their
love of the beautiful is set growing.
Such study has a legitimate place in the school curriculum. Happily, it
is now emphasized in some degree in the Drawing. It should also appear
in connection with the Reading. The picture is intended to throw light
upon the lesson which is illustrated. The children should be taught to
read the picture as well as to read the story.
Geography, as it is presented in good schools of the present day,
well illustrates the necessity. The picture is often a photographic
reproduction of the mountain, the cascade, the geyser, the surf. The text
describes, as clearly as words can describe, but the picture is far more
faithful. It brings the scene before the eyes of the child, while words,
misapplied or misunderstood, often build a wall between the pupil and the
scene which they attempt to portray. If the children learn to see all
that the picture contains, they are helped in their study of the text. It
is the part of wisdom, from the teacher’s point of view, to make much of
these aids, even if knowledge getting is the one goal in sight. It can
hardly be doubted, however, that all teachers will recognize the greater
need which is satisfied by such instruction. To know and to love these
things so well worth knowing and loving is quite as worthy of achievement
as the mastery of equations or the demonstration of a theorem.
If the Drawing does not admit of the teaching suggested, the Language
Lesson, ever hospitably inclined, may be extended to include the study
of the picture. Every teacher knows best what pictures she desires to
present to her class, but, from common experience, a few inferences may
be made.
Certainly the picture chosen for initial study should be one whose
subject is interesting to the children, a picture which represents action
or suggests a story. Such pictures are Schreyer’s “Imperial Courier,”
Meyer von Bremen’s “Little Nurse,” Millet’s “Angelus,” Landseer’s
“Saved.” After the children have become interested in the picture they
will wish to learn who painted it, just as they desire to know about the
poet, after they have come to enjoy the poem. Then they are ready to look
at the reprints of the other works of the artist, regardless of subject,
and to ask questions about the artist and his works. So the interest
deepens and the study grows, following this natural order.
Fortunately the abundance of cheap good reprints, and the careful
illustration of text-books, place the means for such study within the
reach of every teacher and pupil. It will not be long before the picture
will take its proper place with the song and the poem as a factor in
elementary education.
_He that loveth a book will never want a faithful friend,
a wholesome counsellor, a cheerful companion, an effectual
comforter. By study, by reading, by thinking, one may
innocently divert and pleasantly entertain himself, as in all
weathers, so in all fortunes._
—_ISAAC BURROWS._
[Illustration]