International Review of Educational Cinematography (Jan-Dec 1932)

530 defends him from error. It predisposes the pupil to take the road that will lead him to the truth when he is able to understand it, and to good, when he has acquired the faculty of knowing and loving good (1). During the first years of the child's life, the most important thing is to lead it to a knowledge of things rather than of words : " It is a great disadvantage for it to have more words than ideas at its command, and to know how to say more than it can think ". It is only in adolescence that feelings can be gradually transformed into ideas, provided, explains Rousseau, " that the mind has always the senses as guide. No other book than the world, and no other instruction than facts. The child that reads does not think, does nothing but read ; and it does not become educated, because it learns nothing but words ". In the ideal education of Emile, Rousseau clings to the best, impracticable as it often is, neglecting the more easily followed good : " You want to teach geography to this boy, and you bring forward maps and globes and spheres. What a lot of apparatus ! Why all these representations ? Why not begin to show him the object itself, so that he may know what you are talking about ? " There is no doubt that the " object itself " is preferable to a representation of it, but when the teacher cannot bring forward the actual object, it is logical to have recourse to illustrations and images that reproduce it faithfully. Rousseau himself, who seems sometimes, in his fanaticism for things to forget this fact, ends by admitting it. " Don't substitute a sign for a thing, excep in cases where it is impossible to show the thing itself ". Those who have had ex penence of teaching, however limited, can testify how numerous and frequent these "cases'are, and how efficient, in such instances, are images, both static and dynamic. But Rousseau emphasizes still more explicitly the importance of visual education. " One of the errors of our era is that of making too great a use of pure reason, as if man were nothing but mind. By neglecting the language of signs that appeal to the imagination, we have lost our most forcible mode of expression. The impression made by words is invariably weak, and more is said by the eyes than by the tongue. Desiring to place the highest importance on reason, we have reduced our precepts into words and have put nothing into action . . . To apply reason to everything is the mania of small minds ; large minds have another language, which they use to persuade and incite to action. I notice that in these times men have no hold upon one another but force and interest, whereas in ancient times they acted largely by persuasion and through the feelings, because they did not neglect the language of signs. " "... What the ancients accomplished by eloquence is prodigious ; but their eloquence did not consist in fine speeches carefully prepared, and never had greater effect than when the orator spoke but few words. What was said most vividly was not explained in words but by signs : the thing was not said, but shown. The object exhibited seizes hold of the imagination, arouses curiosity, keeps the mind in expectation of what will be said ; and frequently, one single object will explain everything. "... What attention did the Romans pay to the language of signs ? Different garments according to age and condition : togas, sai, praetextae, seals, laticlavae, seats, lictors, fasces, axes, wreaths of gold and grass and leaves, triumphs ; with the Roman everything was parade, performance, ceremony, and everything made its impression on the mind of the citizen. It mattered to the State that the people should meet together in this place rather than in that, that they should or should not see the Capitol, that they should face the Senate or not, that they should take their resolutions on such or such a day. Persons under accusation changed the style of their garments, as did candidates likewise ; warriors did not boast of their feats, but exhibited their wounds. On the death of Caesar . . . Anthony, eloquent as he was, did not utter a word, but had the corpse presented before the crowd. (1) P. Monroe, op. cit.