The three chief classes of illustrative and supplementary material are: 

Maps, pictures, incidents—­actual, imaginary.

It is clear that in the lesson outlined on prayer, in chapter fourteen, we should have little occasion for the use of a map.  We can, however, in connection with that lesson, point out the force of pictures and incidents.

Maps naturally are of greatest service in lessons with historical and geographical background.  The journeyings of Israel mean so much more to us when we can follow them from place to place on a good map.  So the Book of Mormon account clears up if we are similarly guided.  Had we authentic maps of the lands named in the Book of Mormon, how much clearer and more interesting the history would become!  We would know the exact spot on our present-day maps where Lehi and his family landed from their heaven-directed barges; we would know where to find the land Bountiful; where may now be found the ancient site of the City of Zarahemla; where flows the River Sidon; what country is indicated by the “land northward”; the journeys of the Nephites as they were being driven; what states saw there continued struggles against their inveterate enemies, the Lamanites, and how they reached their final battle-ground near the Hill Cumorah.  To visit with Jesus in Palestine adds a charm to the New Testament that is really hard to evaluate, and surely the travels of our own pioneers call for the aid of a good map.  Thoroughly to appreciate all that they did requires that we travel over the wonderful trail they followed—­that being impossible, the next nearest approach is to see actually drawn out the magnitude of their achievement.  The appeal to the eye couples so forcefully with the appeal to the ear that no classroom ought to be without its maps.  Perhaps it is not beyond possibilities to conceive that at a not distant date we shall have made available films for class use to intensify the great lessons we draw from history.

Pictures make a wonderful appeal, particularly so to children.  It is impossible to measure the inspirational appeal that a single masterpiece exerts on a class of boys and girls.  A theological class in one of the Sunday Schools of Salt Lake County was once blessed with a most magnetic and powerful teacher.  Upon his death, the class had his picture framed and hung on the front wall of the room in which he had taught.  From that day to this the silent inspiration of that picture has stimulated scores of young men and women to the high ideals for which he stood.

More generally applicable and more easily available, of course, is the Incident.  The ability to tell a story is one of the finest attainments of the teacher—­particularly if he will take the pains to find vigorously wholesome and appropriate ones.  May we repeat the warning that stories ought not to be told merely to fill out the hour, nor to tickle the ears of the class, but to intensify and heighten the truths contained in our lessons.