reach, if we will put forth our hands to take them. Besides photographic prints, there are all sorts of so-called process pictures, photogravures, half-tones, and so on, ranging in price from several dollars to one cent each. The reproductions are in delicately shaded grays and browns, some even in facsimile colors, interpreting the original beauty of the pictures with wonderful accuracy. With such treasures at our command, the coming generation ought to become as familiar with good pictures as with good books, and should be able to discriminate as correctly in artistic as in literary matters. Educators and parents are striving towards this end.
A child’s pleasure in a picture is greatly increased by the sympathetic companionship of an older person. Though his imagination is keener than his elder’s, his powers of observation are presumably less developed. His natural impatience to turn the page of a book, or hurry on to the next room of a gallery, can be restrained by pointing out the details of the composition. In forming habits of observation, the memory is trained to retain distinct images of the pictures worth knowing. It is surprising how vague our ideas are of many supposedly familiar things. The Sistine Madonna, for instance, is probably one of the best known pictures in the world, but if one were called upon to describe it fully, how many recall the foreshortened hand of the Pope, the crossed legs of the Child, the Virgin’s bare feet, and other similar details? A clear memory image of a masterpiece is a sort of touchstone to carry about as a test for other pictures.
