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.