which he does know? And who has not felt the difference when trying to
listen to one who talks, but whose words are not loaded with life?
You must have seen, acted, felt, if you would make your hearers see and
feel and act. Talk is cheap, especially borrowed talk. It is not the
story in the lesson quarterly that you can build into the lives of your
class; it is the story in you. It is the picture that has become a part
of your life, that will be most likely to be built into the fabric of
theirs.
_Order._
The way in which a subject lies in the mind of an ordinary,
unregenerate adult, one may be safe in saying, is just the wrong
way--the way in which it should not be presented to a child. The order
of exposition is in general the reverse of the order of acquisition.
The natural man who has forgotten how things look to the eyes of a
child has a tendency to put things wrong end to; word first, thing
last; precept first, example last; to plunge _in medias res_ without
introduction--in short, to put the mental or spiritual cart before the
horse. And it requires self-sacrifice to reverse the order, enter into
the limitations of a little child's mind, see with his eyes, think his
thoughts.
It is a favorite simile among writers on education that the mind is not
unlike a field, and that the steps of instruction answer to the
successive stages of the farmer's work. First there is the preparation
of the soil, then come the planting, the cultivating, and in due time
the harvest, the mill, and the market. Two of these steps, the
preparing and the applying, concern us here; the work of presenting and
elaborating is a theme by itself, and has been treated in a separate
chapter.
1. Preparing the ground: Approach.
The art of "getting a good ready" is an art worth mastering. In sermon
or Sunday-school lesson alike the beginning is the main concern. It is
a good plan to seem to waste time at the start. Nine tenths plowing,
harrowing, marking out, one tenth sowing, and (as we shall see) no
looking for a crop at all, is a just proportion for the most of our
lessons. We shall be always safe in counting upon a sufficient number
of stony-ground hearers to justify us in clearing the ground, and
making it mellow with interest and expectation. And even those who
would receive the word with gladness cannot take it in unless they have
something to grasp it with, cannot hear without something to hear with.
And this must be given them by the teacher.
We are here at the very heart of the science of teaching. A little
two-year-old child will serve us as an example. He is to be put in bed
in a strange room, and is to go to sleep alone. Spring the idea upon
him and he will reject it. Prepare him for it, by telling him a story
of a little boy who went to bed in a new room, a new bed, and all
alone, and he is eager for the hour of bed-time. When the time comes,
the picture already in his mind, of a little boy, a new room, a
peaceful going to bed, welcomes the actual experience, point for point.
The wise mother has made a nest for the experience.
So might a teacher prepare the minds of his pupils to receive the idea
of ninety millions of miles.
"If any one there in the sun fired off a cannon straight at you, what
should you do?"
"Get out of the way," would be the answer.
"No need of that," the teacher might reply. "You may quietly go to
sleep in your room, and get up again; you may learn a trade, and grow
as old as I am--then only will the cannon-ball be getting near, then
you may jump to one side! See, so great as that is the sun's distance!"
So writes a German teacher--explaining the law of apperception, of
making a nest for the idea.
We cannot understand--cannot even see or hear--the absolutely new.
Every new plan or way of looking at things, or doctrine, is received
into the mind on one condition only--that it be introduced by a comrade
already there. Then when the new idea calls from without, its fellow
answers from within, and an entrance is effected.
The bearing of this upon our theme is illustrated by the plan of a
school principal, recently described to me, to eradicate the plague of
stealing that had broken out in the school. He talked to the pupils of
giants, drew out the children's ideas, and by effective picture-work
made the creatures out to be an ugly, uncanny crew. He then was ready
to declare to the children that he had discovered a giant in the
school, and in due time told them his name--Selfishness, I think it
was--and then described his evil works. The moral of this story is that
the plan worked, and stealing disappeared from the school from that
day.
Who of us teachers might not be emulous of becoming thus skilful in
mellowing the soil and making it warm in the genial sunshine of true
picture-work?
2. Gathering the crop: Taste.
qIf deliberation is a virtue at the start, brevity and patience
are a necessity at the finish. When the teacher has planted an
interest-awakening picture in the minds of the children, his main work
is done. He may safely leave them to make the application. He has
supplied the cause; the effect will take care of itself. It is often
convenient and suggestive to remember that children are not fools. "A
child knows a thing or two," 'tis said, "before he knows much of
anything." And one of the very first things he knows is how to put his
finger on the moral in a story; and he can feel it long before he knows
it. But that is when he is left to himself. If you take the helm, ten
to one he'll know without feeling, which is the curse of us all.
Better, if we must choose, that he feel without knowing in terms, than
indulge in mere intellectual casuistry.
In your childish haste to have a crop or to see what was going on under
ground, did you ever unearth the newly-planted row of peas? And was
that row ever so green and straight and thick-standing as those that
had been let alone? But the plants of love to God and moral taste are
tenderer than these. They must be shined upon, warmed, and watered many
days before they are ready to give an account of themselves. Love is a
silent thing before it is outspoken. True feeling has few words, is not
self-conscious, likes not to be asked questions. In its own good time
it wells up and finds vent in deeds, and even in words.
The deepest thing a teacher does is to form taste. But all taste grows
slowly, by unconscious accretion. The Chinese money-changer sets his
apprentice at work handling good money only. For ten Years he touches
nothing else. He can then detect a counterfeit coin. How? Perhaps he
cannot tell how. His way is surer, deeper. He feels it. He has taste.
So with the building of the taste for good books, for pictures, for
nature. It is a slow process--many a book to be absorbed, picture seen
and loved, and mountain and flower and sunset gazed upon, before taste
is formed.
And the taste for godliness, for religion, is no exception. It is the
finest and rarest of all tastes, and hence is the slowest and quietest
of all in its development.
But did you ever see, in the hot house, shall we say, of the
Sunday-school, seed sown, harvest reaped, yes, and cakes taken from the
oven, within the limits of a single half hour? Does the figure halt, or
was it a miraculous quickening of the processes of nature, or was it in
truth a great mistake and a sin against natural spiritual growth?
There need be no fear, then, that the children will not feel, and in
time know, the meaning, for them, of their stories and pictures. And a
wise teacher well knows the ways of helping them: by questioning,
_not_ directly, and by hiding the moral so near the surface that
it will come forth of itself.
VII.
HOW TO LEARN HOW.
The foregoing chapters have dealt chiefly with the theory of
picture-work, answering the questions what and why. But practical
teachers will go a step further and ask where to find and how to use
materials, what to do first, what next, in becoming expert in using and
making pictures, stories, and illustrations; in short, how to learn
how. Those who are not of the practical sort should omit this chapter,
and no one should expect to enjoy or profit by it who has not the time
and the will to go through the exercises described.
_Models._ A study of some of the remarkable pictures of secular
literature will reveal many points in story-telling.
Mark how Chaucer made such a picture of his Canterbury pilgrims that
not only the color, the action, and the characters of the scene, but
also the very atmosphere of the jolly crowd has been clear and vivid
for more than four centuries.
Macaulay boasted that he would write a history which would supersede
the latest novel on the tables of the young ladies of the day. How did
he accomplish this? Read his "History of England" and learn the secret
of the power to picture.
Study George Eliot's "Silas Marner" to learn how to tell a story. The
interest never flags, the proper perspective is always maintained,
light and shade are in due proportion, and the lesson to be learned is
taken, not as a bitter dose, but as one drinks in the fresh air of a
clear May morning.
Study pictures of Bible scenes by great masters to see what aspect of
the scene--what moment of the event--the painter chose as the climax of
interest and meaning. Although the aim in Sunday-school work is
spiritual and not artistic, the heart will be reached more surely if
the eyes are appealed to and a subordinate artistic aim is kept always
in mind.
What is the favorite view-point in picturing Noah's ark (the
procession--a source of never-failing interest to old and young--is a
conspicuous feature); in Abraham's sacririfice (Andrea del Sarto seizes
the moment when Abraham is about to slay Isaac and the ram appears in
the thicket); in the early life of Moses? Note also the subjects in the
life of Christ oftenest chosen by the artist.
In what parables does Christ choose a definite locality well known to
his hearers, definite characters, a definite point and only one, a
definite purpose, and a clearly defined and applied moral? In the
presentation of which parables do we _not_ find simple language,
direct discourse, a dramatic style, and a question in order to drive
home the point?
Try the effect of substituting in any one of the parables indirect
discourse for direct, statements for questions.
Make a study of the Sermon on the Mount with a view of finding
opportunities for picture-work.
On how many and on what occasions did Jesus use objects in his
teaching? Might he not have gotten along without using the objects
themselves on those occasions? What seems to have been his purpose?
What was the result?
_Seeing._ Suppose that you were an artist searching in the Bible
for scenes to paint:
1. What picture would you find in Matthew VIII., verse 1? verse 2?
verse 3? verse 4? Can you see (and hear) each of these?
2. What is _the_ picture in the whole passage (verses 1-4)? How
many elements has it, in respect of number, form, color, sound,
atmosphere?
3. Which of these should be chosen in telling the story to children,
and in what order?
4. How many pictures are there in verses 5-13? What is the central
picture?
5. In verses 23-27. How many pictures are there in this passage? Which
is the central picture? How would you lead the pupils to see it? What
first? what next? what last?
6. In Matthew, chapters ix. and xiii. How many separate pictures are
there? Which are the most important to try to see? What objects,
pictures, drawings, maps, would you use in making it real to your
class?
_Construction._ In the previous chapter there was brought out the
need of adapting the stories of the Bible to the comprehension of
modern hearers. Suggestions were given both for cutting down and
filling in.
Choose a story, as of the brave Hebrew boys who stood by what they
thought was right even in captivity; the young king who asked God to
give him wisdom and whose way of ruling showed that his request had
been granted; the shepherd boy whom the Lord chose; or choose an
incident, or a period of a year of the life of Christ (as the "Year of
Beginnings," the "Year of Popularity," the "Year of Opposition").
Subdivide each of these into smaller stories or incidents (Daniel, for
instance, had three great tests, each complete in itself, and lived
under three kings), then combine into a whole, applying the principles
of story-telling and of adaptation.
Test your story by telling it to a child or a group of children. Tell
the same story not once but many times.
_Choice._ Do not pad. Avoid diffuseness. Put in only those details
that are salient--that leap out at you--that are necessary to the
picture and the meaning. Any one can put in everything. It is only the
born story-teller, or the one who will sit down by the side of a child
and patiently observe the points that the child sees and likes to hear,
that can be trusted to put in and to leave out just the right points.
Try writing out the story of Jonah, without the book. Compare your work
with the original. How might you have been less diffuse? What necessary
points did you omit? Did you use more or fewer general terms than the
original? Were your words and expressions so picturesque as those in
the text?
_Examples._ By way of illustrating the meaning of the foregoing points,
it may be interesting to note the difference in concreteness, _i.e._,
in the _picture_, to be found in the following paragraphs, all of
which are intended to mean practically the same thing.
(_a_) One bidden to obey and refusing, but afterward obeying, is a
better example of obedience than one who obeys in word but not in deed.
(_b_) Some one who was requested to do something refused in word, but
obeyed in deed; another complied, but only in word. Which was the
better example of obedience?
(_c_) If some one in authority should tell some one to do something and
he should refuse but afterward comply, and should tell another to do
something and he should say that he would without doing so, which of
these really would perform the will of the one who gave the command?
(_d_) A certain man had some children. One day he told one of them
to go and do some work that he wanted him to do. But the child said
that he wouldn't, etc.
(_e_) Compare with these the same thought clothed in the concrete
and picturesque words of our Lord himself:
"But what think ye? A certain man had two sons; and he came to the
first, and said, Son, go work to-day in my vineyard.
"He answered and said, I will not: but afterwards he repented, and
went.
"And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and
said, I go, sir: and went not.
"Whether of them twain did the will of his father?"
It would be equally possible to take the same clear-cut, dramatic
picture and load it down--smother it--with words. But this kind of
picture-work it is unnecessary to illustrate.
_Expression._ Read each of the parables of Jesus, picturing in your
mind everything that can be seen, heard, or felt. "Put yourself in his
place" regarding every one spoken of. When you have thus pictured the
story, and while you are picturing it, read aloud, or tell the story.
The expression will take care of itself--_if only you see and hear_. In
this simple principle is contained the whole art of expression, _i.e._,
of giving forth something which is within.
_Environment._ What kind of country was Palestine? If Palestine were
taken up from the shore of the Mediterranean and planted on your state,
where would Dan and Beersheba lie respectively? Wherein did its
divisions differ, in respect of people, surface, products, occupations?
The four routes of Christ's principal journeys are given as follows:
Bethlehem to Jerusalem, 6 miles north; Bethlehem to Egypt, 250 miles
southwest; Nazareth to Jericho, 60 miles southeast; Nazareth to
Jerusalem, 65 miles south. Trace these routes on a sand map and on the
blackboard. Describe the country passed through, the occupations of the
people, the mode of travel, the length of time required.
Account for the roughness of the road from Jerusalem to Jericho.
What kind of place was Cæsarea Philippi, and what kind of stream is the
Jordan at that point?
_Sketching._ The teacher should practice until he can make, with
the flat crayon, something that looks like a mountain, a road, a
tree--a scumble for the foliage and a stroke or two for the trunk, a
man--two strokes will do for him (some teachers prefer to cut out
pictures and pin them on the board). It must be admitted that this
method of trial and error is dangerous. But there are self-taught
teachers who do pretty well.
_Map-drawing._ To learn to sketch a map is a more hopeful task. Every
one should be able to follow on pad or blackboard a campaign, a flight
into Egypt, and a march up into Canaan; and to trace the journeys of
Jesus and of Paul.
The following directions will be found helpful in drawing, free-hand
and with only two construction lines, the map of Palestine:
Draw a horizontal line, and on it with the span of the hand, or with
any convenient unit, measure three units, indicating their extremities
by the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, from left to right. At the right extremity
of this line, which we designate 4, draw a vertical line five units in
length (4-9). From the upper extremity of this line draw to the left a
line parallel to 1-4, one unit in length (9-10). Join points 1 and 10
with an irregular line, thus indicating the coast. A perpendicular let
fall from 10 to 3 would indicate the course of the Jordan, the source
lying nearly opposite 8, the Sea of Galilee opposite 7, the Dead Sea
between 4 and 5; and Judæa, Samaria, Galilee, and Phoenicia will
each occupy, roughly speaking, one and a half units. The principal
mountains, cities, routes, may be indicated by initials, signs, or in
any other appropriate ways. Each unit being 40 miles in length, the
dimensions of Palestine and its parts may be derived. This same system
may, of course, be used in drawing any map.
Miss Lucy Wheelock says that "the most satisfactory map is one which
the teacher makes herself, drawing the outlines with a blue marking
crayon on a sheet of white silesia, or finished cotton cloth, and
putting in thin strips of wood or rollers at top and bottom, so that it
will hang easily."
_The sand table_, especially with work for younger children, is
indispensable. This every one can learn to make and manage and can fit
out with the needed materials. Let no one shrink from the simple task
of getting together the equipment and learning to model a map of
Palestine.
The following description of the way of making a sand map of Palestine
has been kindly furnished by Miss Juliet E. Dimock of Elizabeth, N.J.,
whose theory and practice in primary classes are alike admirable:
"Any carpenter will make for you a board, four feet six inches long,
and two feet six inches wide, with a raised edge of one and one half
inches. Paint the surface a bright blue, to represent the waters of the
Mediterranean. Procure about fifty pounds of molders' sand from a stove
foundry. The new sand is preferable to that which has been used for
casting, owing to its lighter color. Study a good map of Palestine
until you have a clear idea of the coast-line, the sea-coast plain, the
mountain region, with its principal peaks, the Jordan valley, and the
eastern table land."
(A relief map is desirable as a guide. The relative heights of
mountains are given in Hurlbut's "Bible Geography." A cross-section of
Palestine showing relief is given in the "Bible Study Union Lessons,"
Old Testament History, Progressive Grade, First Quarter, Appendix pp.
(V.), (VI.). The Bible Study Publishing Co., 21 Bromfield Street,
Boston, Mass.)
"Cut a paper pattern of the rivers and have them cut out of tin by a
tinsmith. Use mirrors for the waters of Merom, the Dead Sea, and the
Sea of Galilee, and white cord for the roads.
"When you are ready to go to work, place the board on a table and empty
upon it your box of sand, which should be dampened until it can easily
be molded by the hand. Raise the head of the board, until the children
can see your work; if the sand is damp enough to keep its place, it can
be inclined at an angle of forty-five degrees. At first the children
will be interested in seeing you form the map; the coast-line, with its
"camel's hump" for Mt. Carmel, the mountains, with snow-capped Hermon
towering above them all, the seas, rivers, roads, and finally the white
paper boats on the Mediterranean.
"Take five minutes every Sunday for a supplemental lesson on the
history of the land, beginning with the first settlement of the country
by the Canaanites, the family of Noah's grandson. Use the map also,
whenever it is possible, to illustrate the lesson for the day; either
as a map, or by building up the sand into a city, a garden, a temple,
or a palace. The supplemental course might begin with the Garden of
Eden, with as great a variety of trees, flowers, and animals, as may be
easily obtained. And by turning the board around, the map of the
ancient world may be made, and the stories of Noah, Babel, and Abram's
journey from Ur of the Chaldees. Use small objects to make the places
on the map, and replace them with initial blocks when the children are
sufficiently familiar with the story to tell it to you. A very little
ingenuity on the part of the teacher will suggest the objects to be
used, which can be readily cut out of colored card-board.
"After school, return the sand to its box and pour at least a quart of
water over it. It will then be in good condition for next Sunday's
use."
_Specifics._ True picture-work has, as we have seen, a true bearing
upon the question, How to help children conquer their faults. "Don't,"
even "Please don't," is ineffectual and unpedagogical. So is every
means that is direct and negative instead of indirect and constructive.
It is a thousand times easier to empty a tumbler of air by filling it
with water than by the use of the air pump.
And so, just as we know that singing has a marvelous power to sweeten
and calm the spirit of a young child, so a story is often the shortest
and the most effective means to bring him to himself. A story is a
specific. The right story will heal its proper disorder. There is
danger here, 'tis true; "the intent to teach," as Herbart writes,
spoils it all. Stories should be given as food rather than as medicine.
There is all the greater need, therefore, for practice.
Find, adapt, make up stories to meet the needs of a child who is idle;
of one who is mean, lacks self-control, is slovenly, careless,
untruthful, etc.
_Texts._ On the other hand, it is just as necessary that illustrations
attach themselves to their proper principles, as that principles find
the concrete key that will serve as their open sesame into the child's
mind.
Mr. Barrie tells of a newspaper writer who never conversed five minutes
with a friend without getting a suggestion for a leader or a "story."
The teacher ought to be no less fertile in finding texts, and in
pressing everything he meets--whether in books, in newspapers, or on
the street--into the service of the Sunday-school lesson.
For example, the street car on which you ride to school or to business
in the morning suddenly stops. It stands still three, five, fifteen
minutes. You are late. Twenty others are late. Reason, a careless
truck-driver has driven an inch too near the track. What does this
illustrate?
A pound of cotton, worth a few cents, may be made into yarn and become
worth more; into chintz and be worth still more, etc. What is the truth
hidden in this fact?
A thoughtful teacher, in reply to the question, "What stories have you
found especially helpful?" contained in the blank on story-telling
(Chapter X.), gave the following:
"Cato's words, 'Carthage must be destroyed' (the power of words);
Hercules at the parting of the ways (the necessity of choice);
Macbeth's 'I have lived long enough' (the end of a wasted life); The
Ancient Mariner--'He prayeth best' (the secret of prayer); the parable
of the wicked husbandmen (irreverence)."
VIII.
BOOKS, PICTURES, AND ILLUSTRATIVE MATERIAL.