THE PRINCIPLES OF
LANGUAGE-STUDY
BY
HAROLD E. PALMER
ASSISTANT IN THE PHONETICS DEPARTMENT UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LONDON
LECTURER ON LINGUISTICS AT THE SCHOOL OF ORIENTAL STUDIES LONDON
AUTHOR OF “THE SCIENTIFIC STUDY AND TEACHING OF LANGUAGES” “A
FIRST COURSE OF ENGLISH PHONETICS” “100 SUBSTITUTION TABLES” ETC.
YONKERS-ON-HUDSON, NEW YORK
WORLD BOOK COMPANY
1921
PRINTED BY NEILL AND CO LTD., EDINBURGH, GREAT BRITAIN
PRÉFACE DÉDICATOIRE
A MON VIEIL AMI LE COMMANDANT CHARLES LEMAIRE, ACTUELLEMENT DIRECTEUR
DE L’INSTITUT SUPÉRIEUR COLONIAL À ANVERS
MON CHER COMMANDANT,
Vous souvenez-vous encore de la visite que je vous fis l’été dernier
aux Sources Fraîches, après les cinq années tragiques que nous avons
vécues?
Je m’en souviens encore comme si c’était hier. Vous étiez souffrant;
je vous ai trouvé étendu, accablé, affaibli, et je ressens encore la
peine profonde que j’éprouvai à cette minute précise où le contraste
s’imposait à mon esprit entre l’état dans lequel je vous avais quitté
en 1914 et celui dans lequel je vous retrouvais.
Mais cette impression première, dont je garderai toujours un souvenir
ému, fut brève. Vous me parliez de votre nouvel ouvrage, traitant de
l’enseignement rationnel, et développiez la conception qui en forme
la base. A mesure que vous avanciez, vous vous laissiez emporter par
votre sujet et, redressé, vous parliez avec l’ardeur et le feu que je
vous ai toujours connus, scandant vos phrases de gestes énergiques et
puissants. Je retrouvais en vous le soldat d’avant-garde enthousiaste
et fort, tout vibrant de foi et de conviction, que vous n’avez jamais
cessé d’être.
La nature, disiez-vous, est une source féconde d’enseignement et de
méthode; elle est la seule institutrice des noirs. Ceux-ci, dans
les matières se rapportant à la vie primitive--et dont une partie
correspond à celles que l’on enseigne aux blancs--sont, mieux que nous,
naturellement dans le vrai, dans le vrai expérimental. Longuement vous
développiez votre thèse, l’appuyant de nombreuses constatations de
faits récoltées pendant vos longues années d’observation en plein cœur
de l’Afrique.
Je vous ai écouté longuement et, en vous quittant, je me suis retrouvé
dans ce décor que vous avez choisi pour y concentrer votre attention
sur les problèmes auxquels vous avez voulu trouver une solution; je me
suis retrouvé dans cette Fagne immense et admirable, au milieu de ces
bruyères aux colorations chaudes, sur cette terre aux vastes horizons
frangés de sapinières, et, seul en face de la nature, de cette source
éternelle dont vous m’aviez parlé avec tant d’enthousiasme, j’entendais
vos dernières paroles résonner encore à mes oreilles....
* * * * *
Le jour même j’écrivis le premier chapitre de ce livre. Vous y
retrouverez vos propres paroles et l’écho qu’elles ont éveillé en moi.
La nature doit-elle être notre guide? Oui, sans aucun doute. Doit-elle
être notre seul guide? Sans aucun doute encore, non. La nature
doit, disiez-vous, être notre inspiratrice; nous devons, grâce à
nos capacités acquises, appliquer les leçons qu’elle nous donne en
utilisant les forces qui sont inhérentes à l’être humain.
Comment passer du principe à son application? Dans quelle mesure
faut-il puiser à la source naturelle, faire agir l’intelligence humaine
et se servir de ses forces ‘subconscientes’?
C’était le point de départ du livre que voici....
* * * * *
J’ai écrit, il y a quelques années, un livre, _The Scientific Study
and Teaching of Languages_, auquel j’avais donné la forme d’une étude
soulevant des questions nouvelles, sujettes à controverse et montrant
qu’en réalité la science de l’étude des langues n’existait pas et
qu’il était grand temps de rassembler les matériaux et les études
permettant de lui donner un point de départ sérieux. Ce livre traitait
de la nature du langage et du processus de l’acquisition des langues
ainsi que des divers types d’étudiants et de leurs buts respectifs;
il posait des principes et présentait un ‘programme-type idéal’ avec
des modèles de leçons et un catalogue complet des méthodes de travail;
il examinait longuement les programmes spéciaux, les fonctions du
professeur; il envisageait les problèmes au point de vue de l’élève et,
après cet ensemble d’études, il concluait par un appel à l’unité et à
la coopération de tous.
Cet appel n’est pas resté sans réponse, et je suis heureux d’exprimer
ici ma satisfaction pour les avis et les encouragements que m’a valus
mon travail. Il m’a gagné de nombreux amis et collaborateurs; il m’a
mis en contact avec des ‘samideani’ (s’il m’est permis de me servir
d’un des mots les plus connus des langues artificielles) et m’a ainsi
montré d’où pourra venir l’aide prochaine.
Je suis heureux du secours que ce livre a apporté à ceux qui en
sentaient le besoin, et c’est pour moi un précieux encouragement de
savoir qu’il en est beaucoup qui travaillent dans la voie qui vient
d’être ouverte.
Le livre que je présente aujourd’hui ne couvre pas le même champ que
le précédent. Ce n’est ni une étude, ni une série de problèmes avec
leurs solutions. C’est un exposé de faits, présumant que le lecteur
admet, comme je les ai admis moi-même, les principes fondamentaux du
langage et de l’étude des langues. Ce nouvel ouvrage se borne à exposer
les principes essentiels que sont tenus d’observer ceux qui veulent
enseigner--ou étudier--avec succès.
Il est vrai que dans _The Scientific Study and Teaching of Languages_
j’ai consacré soixante pages à l’examen de certains principes, mais
quelques années ont passé depuis que j’ai écrit ces lignes, et pas
mal de choses qui semblaient vagues à cette époque se sont précisées
et développées. Si je n’ai rien, ou peu de chose, à retrancher de ce
travail, j’ai par contre beaucoup à ajouter et à revoir.
J’ai voulu présenter la matière de mon nouvel ouvrage dans un ordre
plus rigoureux que celui de l’étude précédente, bien qu’en lui-même
le nouveau livre soit moins technique et que la terminologie en soit
moins spéciale. En réalité, le sujet traité, comme tous les sujets
d’ailleurs, se présente plus simplement après une période de réflexion
et d’incubation, et la forme actuelle a pour but précisément de
réaliser une présentation populaire.
Certains, j’en suis sûr, estimeront que mon ouvrage n’est pas assez
technique. Plusieurs amis m’ont suggéré avec insistance de présenter
le sujet au seul point de vue de la psychologie, d’autres de me servir
exclusivement de termes scientifiques. Mais je n’ai pas pu me rallier à
aucune de ces propositions parce que j’ai dû tenir compte de ce que mes
lecteurs ne sont pas tous versés dans “la terminologie psychologique.”
Au surplus, je sens que le sujet n’est pas mûr pour subir une analyse
détaillée envisagée sous l’angle de la psychologie pure. De plus
compétents que moi la tenteront peut-être quand le moment sera venu.
Pour l’instant, cette étude n’apporterait pas l’aide pratique et
immédiate que j’espère avoir réalisée dans les pages qui suivent,
et dont le besoin se fait sentir chez tous ceux qui s’occupent de
l’enseignement des langues.
* * * * *
Je tiens à exprimer aussi ma reconnaissance à ceux qui m’ont aidé
dans la préparation de ce travail. La collaboration de M. Morris
Ginsberg (de University College, Londres) concernant “la formation
et l’adaptation des habitudes” a été si précieuse que je ne puis
m’empêcher de la souligner tout spécialement; j’espère qu’il approuvera
la présentation de ce sujet particulier. Les vues de M. H. Perera (de
University College, Londres) sur la “parole intérieure” m’ont également
été fort utiles. Je dois des remerciements à Mrs Powers (Kingsmead
Training Institution for Missionary Candidates), qui s’est chargée
d’examiner le manuscrit phrase par phrase au point de vue de la clarté
et de la précision.
A présent, mon cher Commandant, permettez-moi de conclure: une idée que
vous avez exprimée à un moment propice a déclanché chez moi un ordre de
pensées qui m’a conduit à écrire l’ouvrage que je présente aujourd’hui,
et que je suis heureux de vous dédier.
HAROLD E. PALMER
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
PRÉFACE DÉDICATOIRE 5
SYNOPSIS 13
I. OUR SPONTANEOUS CAPACITIES FOR ACQUIRING SPEECH 33
II. OUR STUDIAL CAPACITIES AND HOW TO USE THEM 47
III. WHY WE MUST USE OUR STUDIAL CAPACITIES 52
IV. THE STUDENT AND HIS AIM 60
V. THE SUPREME IMPORTANCE OF THE ELEMENTARY STAGE 68
VI. THE PRINCIPLES OF LANGUAGE-TEACHING 75
VII. INITIAL PREPARATION 82
VIII. HABIT-FORMING AND HABIT-ADAPTING 98
IX. ACCURACY 106
X. GRADATION 113
XI. PROPORTION 123
XII. CONCRETENESS 129
XIII. INTEREST 136
XIV. A RATIONAL ORDER OF PROGRESSION 148
XV. THE MULTIPLE LINE OF APPROACH 161
XVI. ‘MEMORIZED MATTER’ AND ‘CONSTRUCTED MATTER’ 170
INDEX 183
SYNOPSIS
1. WE POSSESS NATURAL OR SPONTANEOUS CAPACITIES FOR ACQUIRING SPEECH
In order to become proficient in most arts, we are assumed to study,
_i.e._ to make conscious efforts persistently and perseveringly; we
are assumed to use our intelligence. There is, however, one complex
art in which all of us have become proficient without any such process
and without using our intelligence consciously, viz. _the art of
speech_, _i.e._ of using the spoken form of a language as actually
used in everyday life. We are endowed by nature with capacities for
assimilating speech. Each of us is a living testimony to this fact, for
each of us has successfully acquired that form of our mother-tongue
with which we have been in contact. These capacities are not limited to
the acquiring of our mother-tongue, but are also available for one or
more languages in addition. The young child possesses these capacities
in an active state; consequently he picks up a second or a third
language in the same manner as he does the first. The adult possesses
these same capacities, but generally in a latent state; by disuse he
has allowed them to lapse. If he wishes, he may re-educate these powers
and raise them to the active state; he will then by this means become
as capable as the child of assimilating foreign languages. Those adults
who have maintained these powers in an active state are said to have a
gift for languages.
2. OUR STUDIAL CAPACITIES AND HOW TO USE THEM
In addition to certain _spontaneous_ capacities, we possess what
we may term ‘_studial_’ capacities for language-acquisition. These
must be utilized when we learn how to _read_ and _write_ a language,
and also when we wish to learn forms of language not actually used
in everyday speech (_i.e._ the literary, oratorical, or ceremonious
forms). The methods by which we utilize these capacities are generally
characterized by _conscious_ work (such as analysis and synthesis)
and by conversion, _i.e._ converting written into spoken (reading
aloud), converting spoken into written (dictation), converting from one
language into another (translation), or converting one grammatical form
into another (conjugation, declension, etc.). All exercises requiring
the use of the eyes and the hand are of the studial order, as are also
those connected with accidence and derivation.
Most of those forms of work by which we utilize or adapt habits which
we acquired previously while learning some other language (generally
the mother-tongue) are more or less studial forms of work.
Most language-learners at the present day are found to make an almost
exclusive use of their studial capacities, and in doing so use methods
which are more or less unnatural.
3. WHY WE MUST USE OUR STUDIAL CAPACITIES
We must not conclude from the foregoing that methods involving the use
of our capacities for study are necessarily bad, nor that those based
on our spontaneous capacities are necessarily always to be used.
In certain cases and for certain purposes we shall be forced to use
the former. Nature alone will not teach us how to read or write; for
these purposes we must use our studial capacities. We shall, however,
refrain from reading or writing any given material until we have
learnt to use the spoken form. Nature will not teach us how to use
forms of language which are not currently used in everyday speech; in
order to acquire these we must have recourse to our powers of study;
thus we shall use these powers when learning literary composition,
the language of ceremony, etc. Moreover, the studial powers must be
utilized for the purposes for which a _corrective course_ is designed.
What has been badly assimilated must be eliminated consciously; bad
habits can only be replaced by good habits through processes unknown
to the language-teaching forces of nature. Even those who have not
been previously spoiled by defective study require a certain amount of
corrective work in order that they may react against the tendency to
import into the new language some of the characteristic features of the
previously acquired language or languages.
Some students have no desire to _use_ the foreign language, but merely
wish to learn about it, to know something of its structure. In such
cases no attempt whatever need be made to develop or to utilize their
spontaneous language-learning capacities; they may work exclusively by
the methods of study.
4. THE STUDENT AND HIS AIM
We cannot design a language course until we know something about the
students for whom the course is intended, for a programme of study
depends on the aim or aims of the students. All we can say in advance
is that we must endeavour to utilize the most appropriate means
to attain the desired end. A course which is suitable in one case
may prove unsuitable in another. Some students may require only a
knowledge of the written language, others are concerned with the spoken
language, others desire to become conversant with both aspects. Some
students only require a superficial knowledge, while others aim at
a perfect knowledge. Special categories of learners (_e.g._ clerks,
hotel-keepers, tourists, grammarians) wish to specialize. The sole aim
of some students is to pass a given examination; others wish to become
proficient as translators or interpreters.
The length of the course or programme is a most important determining
factor; a two months’ course will differ fundamentally from one which
is designed to last two years; the former will be a preparatory course,
the latter will be highly developed.
It will not be possible for us to design a special course for each
individual, still less to write a special text-book for him; we can,
however, broadly group our students into types, and recommend for each
type the most appropriate forms of work. In any case, the teacher is
bound to draw up some sort of programme in advance and to divide this
into stages appropriately graded. This programme must not be of the
rigid type, the same for all requirements; it should be designed on
an elastic basis and should be in accordance with known pedagogical
principles.
5. THE SUPREME IMPORTANCE OF THE ELEMENTARY STAGE
The reader of this book may notice, perhaps with some surprise, how
much we have to say concerning the work of the beginner, and how
little we say about the more advanced work; he may be puzzled at the
amount of attention we pay to (what he may consider) crude elementary
work compared with the amount we give to (what he may consider) the
more complex and interesting work connected with the higher stages. It
will therefore be useful, at this point, to anticipate what will be
more fully dealt with under the heading of gradation (Chapter X), and
insist here already on the supreme importance of the elementary stage.
Language-study is essentially a habit-forming process, and the
important stage in habit-forming is the elementary stage. If we do not
secure habits of accurate observation, reproduction, and imitation
during the first stage, it is doubtful whether we shall ever secure
them subsequently. It is more difficult to unlearn a thing than to
learn it. If the elementary stage is gone through without due regard
to the principles of study, the student will be caused to do things
which he must subsequently undo; he will acquire habits which will
have to be eradicated. If his ear-training is neglected during the
elementary stage, he will replace foreign sounds by native ones and
insert intrusive sounds into the words of the language he is learning;
he will become unable to receive any but eye-impressions, and so
will become the dupe of unphonetic orthographies. If he has not
been trained during the elementary stage to cultivate his powers of
unconscious assimilation and reproduction, he will attempt the hopeless
task of passing all the language-matter through the channel of full
consciousness. If during the elementary stage he forms the ‘isolating
habit,’ he will not be able to use or to build accurate sentences.
An abuse of translation during the elementary stage will cause the
student to translate mentally everything he hears, reads, says, or
writes. Bad habits of articulation will cause him to use language of an
artificialized type.
The function of the elementary stage is to inculcate good habits, and
once this work is done there is little or no fear of the student going
astray in his later work. If we take care of the elementary stage, the
advanced stage will take care of itself.
6. THE PRINCIPLES OF LANGUAGE-TEACHING
The art of designing a language course appears to be in its infancy.
Those arts which have achieved maturity have gradually evolved from a
number of distinct primitive efforts which, by a process of gradual
convergence towards each other, have resulted in the ideal type. So
will it be in the art of composing language courses: the present
diverse types will gradually be replaced by more general types, and
in the end the ideal type will be evolved. This will come about as a
result of a system of collaboration in which each worker will profit
by that which has been done in the past and that which is being done
by other workers in the present. Unsound methods will gradually be
eliminated and will make room for methods which are being evolved
slowly and experimentally and which will pass the tests of experience.
By this time a series of essential principles will have been
discovered, and these will be recognized as standard principles by all
whose work is to design language courses.
The following list would seem to embody some of these, and probably
represents principles on which there is general agreement among those
who have made a study of the subject:
(1) The initial preparation of the student by the training of his
spontaneous capacities for assimilating spoken language.
(2) The forming of new and appropriate habits and the utilization of
previously formed habits.
(3) Accuracy in work in order to prevent the acquiring of bad habits.
(4) Gradation of the work in such a way as to ensure an ever-increasing
rate of progress.
(5) Due proportion in the treatment of the various aspects and branches
of the subject.
(6) The presentation of language-material in a concrete rather than in
an abstract way.
(7) The securing and maintaining of the student’s interest in order to
accelerate his progress.
(8) A logical order of progression in accordance with principles of
speech-psychology.
(9) The approaching of the subject simultaneously from different sides
by means of different and appropriate devices.
7. INITIAL PREPARATION
We must realize that language-learning is an art, not a science. We
may acquire proficiency in an art in two ways: by learning the theory,
or by a process of imitation. This latter process is often termed the
method of _trial and error_, but as the term may be misinterpreted it
is better to consider it as the method of _practice_. The method of
practice is a natural one, the method of theory is not. We may acquire
proficiency in two ways: by forming appropriate new habits, or by
utilizing and adapting appropriate old habits (_i.e._ habits already
acquired). The natural process is the former, the latter being more
or less artificial. Language-study is essentially a habit-forming
process, so we must learn to form habits. By the natural or spontaneous
method we learn unconsciously; we must therefore train ourselves or our
students to form habits unconsciously.
The adult whose natural capacities for unconscious habit-forming have
been dormant may reawaken them by means of appropriate exercises. These
are notably:
(_a_) _Ear-training exercises_, by means of which he may learn to
perceive correctly what he hears.
(_b_) _Articulation exercises_, by means of which he may cause his
vocal organs to make the right sort of muscular efforts.
(_c_) _Exercises in mimicry_, by means of which he will become able to
imitate and reproduce successfully any word or string of words uttered
by the native whose speech serves as model.
(The combination of the three foregoing types of exercise will result
in the capacity for reproducing at first hearing a string of syllables,
such as a sentence. The student will thereby become enabled to memorize
unconsciously the _form_ of speech.)
(_d_) _Exercises in immediate comprehension_, by means of which he will
come to grasp without mental translation or analysis the general sense
of what he hears.
(_e_) _Exercises in forming the right associations between words and
their meanings_, by means of which he will become able to express his
thoughts.
The combination of these five types of exercise will develop the
student’s capacity to use spoken language.
8. HABIT-FORMING AND HABIT-ADAPTING
Language-study is essentially a habit-forming process. We speak and
understand automatically as the result of perfectly formed habits.
No foreign word or sentence is really ‘known’ until the student can
produce it automatically (_i.e._ without hesitation or conscious
calculation). No one can understand by any process of calculation
(_e.g._ translation or analysis) the language as spoken normally by
the native. Few people (if any) have ever succeeded in speaking the
language by a series of mental gymnastics; our progress is to be
measured only by the quantity of language-material which we can use
automatically. Adult students generally dislike the work of acquiring
new habits, and seek to replace it by forms of study dependent upon
the intellect, striving to justify their abstention from mechanical
work on educational grounds. This fear of tediousness is really
groundless; automatism is certainly acquired by repetition, but this
need not be of the monotonous, parrot-like type, for there exist many
psychologically sound repetition devices and varied drills intended to
ensure automatism and interest.
Most of the time spent by the teacher in demonstrating _why_ a foreign
sentence is constructed in a particular way is time wasted; it is
generally enough for the student to learn to do things without learning
why he must do them (due exception being made in special cases, notably
that of corrective courses).
The student should not only be caused to form new habits; he should
also be helped, when expedient, to utilize some of his existing habits;
it is even part of the teacher’s duties to aid the student to select
from his previously acquired habits those which are likely to be of
service to him.
9. ACCURACY
Accuracy means _conformity with a given model or standard_, whatever
that model or standard may happen to be. If we choose to take
colloquial French or colloquial English as our standard, the forms
pertaining to classical French or English (_i.e._ traditionally correct
forms) are to be rejected as inaccurate. There are two types of
inaccuracy: that in which a colloquial form is replaced by a classical
form and _vice versa_, and that in which a native form is replaced by a
pidgin form. In both cases the teacher’s duty is to react against the
tendency towards inaccuracy.
Appropriate drills and exercises exist which ensure accuracy in
sounds, stress, intonation, fluency, spelling, sentence-building and
-compounding, inflexions, and meanings.
The principle of accuracy requires that _the student shall have no
opportunities for making mistakes until he has arrived at the stage at
which accurate work is reasonably to be expected_.
If we compel a student to utter foreign words before he has learnt
how to make the requisite foreign sounds, if we compel him to write
a composition in a foreign language before he has become reasonably
proficient in sentence-building, or if we compel him to talk to us in
the foreign language before he has done the necessary drill-work, we
are compelling him to use the pidgin form of the language.
In addition to specific exercises and devices which ensure accuracy in
special points, we should observe certain general rules which will be
described and treated under the heading of gradation.
10. GRADATION
Gradation means passing from the known to the unknown by easy stages,
each of which serves as a preparation for the next. If a course or
a lesson is insufficiently graded, or graded on a wrong basis, the
student’s work will be marked by an excessive degree of inaccuracy. If
a course is well graded, the student’s rate of progress will increase
in proportion as he advances.
In the ideally graded course the student is caused to assimilate
perfectly a relatively small but exceedingly important vocabulary; when
perfectly assimilated, this nucleus will develop and grow in the manner
of a snowball.
Care should be taken to distinguish between false grading and
sound grading. The following applications of this principle are
psychologically sound:
(_a_) _Ears before Eyes._--The student to be given ample opportunities,
at appropriate intervals, of hearing a sound, a word, or a group of
words before seeing them in their written form (phonetic or other).
(_b_) _Reception before Reproduction._--The student to be given ample
opportunities, with appropriate intervals, of hearing a sound or
combination of sounds, a word, or a group of words before being called
upon to imitate what he hears.
(_c_) _Oral Repetition before Reading._--The student to be given ample
opportunities of repeating matter after the teacher before being called
upon to read the same matter.
(_d_) _Immediate Memory before Prolonged Memory._--The student should
not be required to reproduce matter heard a long time previously until
he has become proficient in reproducing what he has just heard.
(_e_) _Chorus-work before Individual Work._--In the case of classes,
new material should be repeated by the whole of the students together
before each student is called upon to repeat individually. This will
tend to ensure confidence.
(_f_) _Drill-work before Free Work._--The student should not be
given opportunities for free conversation, free composition, or free
translation until he has acquired a reasonable proficiency in the
corresponding forms of drill-work.
Each individual item in the teaching should be graded, and in addition
the whole course may be graded by dividing it into appropriate stages
or phases, which will succeed each other _en échelon_.
11. PROPORTION
The ultimate aim of most students is fourfold:
(_a_) To understand what is said in the foreign language when it is
spoken rapidly by natives.
(_b_) To speak the foreign language in the manner of natives.
(_c_) To understand the language as written by natives.
(_d_) To write the language in the manner of natives.
We observe the principle of proportion when we pay the right amount
of attention to each of these four aspects, without exaggerating the
importance of any of them.
There are five chief branches of practical linguistics:
(_a_) _Phonetics_, which teaches us to recognize and to reproduce
sounds and tones.
(_b_) _Orthography_, which teaches us to spell what we have already
learnt by ear.
(_c_) _Accidence and etymology_, which teaches us the nature of
inflected forms and derivatives, and also how to use them.
(_d_) _Syntax and analysis_, which teaches us how to build up sentences
from their components.
(_e_) _Semantics_, which teaches us the meanings of words and forms.
We observe the principle of proportion when we pay the right amount
of attention to each of these five branches, without exaggerating the
importance of any of them.
In choosing the units of our vocabulary we may be guided by several
considerations, such as intrinsic utility, sentence-forming utility,
grammatical function, regularity, facility, concreteness, or
completeness. We observe the principle of proportion when we select the
material of our vocabularies in such a way that due attention is paid
to all such desiderata, and without exaggerating the importance of any
of them.
We also observe the principle of proportion when we give the right
amount of drill-work or free work, of translation-work or ‘direct’
work, of intensive reading or extensive reading. A well-proportioned
course, like a well-graded course, ensures a steady and ever-increasing
rate of progress.
12. CONCRETENESS
We are enjoined by the principle of concreteness to teach more by
example than by precept. When we give explanations we should illustrate
these by striking and vivid examples embodying the point of theory
which is the subject of our explanation. One example is generally not
enough; it is by furnishing several examples bearing on the same point
that we cause the student to grasp that which is common to them all.
But this is not enough: the examples themselves may vary in
concreteness; therefore we should select for our purpose those which
demonstrate in the clearest possible way the point we are teaching
and which tend to form the closest semantic associations. We should
utilize as far as possible the actual environment of the student: the
grammar of the noun is best understood when we talk of books, pencils,
and chairs; the grammar of the verb is best grasped when we choose
as examples verbs which can be ‘acted’; _black_, _white_, _round_,
_square_ are more concrete adjectives than _rich_, _poor_, _idle_,
_diligent_.
There are four ways of teaching the meanings of words or forms:
(1) _By immediate association_, as when we point to the object
represented by a noun.
(2) _By translation_, as when we give the student the nearest native
equivalent.
(3) _By definition_, as when we describe the unit by means of a
synonymous expression.
(4) _By context_, as when we embody the word or expression in a
sentence which will make its meaning clear.
These four manners are given here in what is generally their order
of concreteness; it is interesting to note in this connexion that
translation is not nearly so ‘indirect’ or ‘unconcrete’ as the extreme
‘direct methodists’ have led us to suppose.
It is for the teacher to judge under what conditions each of these four
manners of teaching meanings may be appropriately used.
13. INTEREST
No work is likely to be successfully accomplished if the student is
not interested in what he is doing, but in our efforts to interest
the pupil we must take care that the quality of the teaching does
not suffer. Habit-forming work has the reputation of being dull and
tedious. The remedy, however, would not be to abandon it in favour of
work which in itself is or seems more interesting (such as reading,
composition, and translation exercises), for by so doing we should
merely be leaving undone work which must be done. The true remedy is to
devise a number of varied and appropriate exercises in order to make
the habit-forming work itself interesting.
The most ingenious and interesting arithmetical problems alone will
not assist the student in memorizing the multiplication table, and the
most ingenious and interesting sentence-building devices alone will
not cause the student to obtain the necessary automatic command of the
fundamental material of the language.
There are notably six factors making for interest (and the observing
of these will not in any appreciable degree violate the eight other
principles involved), viz.:
(1) _The Elimination of Bewilderment._--Difficulty is one thing:
bewilderment is another. The student must, in the ordinary course of
events, be confronted with difficulties, but he should never be faced
with hopeless puzzles. Rational explanations and good grading will
eliminate bewilderment and, in so doing, will tend to make the course
interesting.
(2) _The Sense of Progress achieved._--When the student feels that he
is making progress, he will rarely fail to be interested in his work.
(3) _Competition._--The spirit of emulation adds zest to all study.
(4) _Game-like Exercises._--Many forms of exercise so resemble games
of skill that they are often considered as interesting as chess and
similar pastimes.
(5) _The Relation between Teacher and Student._--The right attitude
of the teacher towards his pupils will contribute largely towards the
interest taken in the work.
(6) _Variety._--Change of work generally adds interest: an alternation
of different sorts of monotonous work makes the whole work less
monotonous. Spells of drill-work, however, should be relieved by
intervals devoted to work of a less monotonous character.
14. A RATIONAL ORDER OF PROGRESSION
Apart from all questions of grading, we may observe in most of the
branches of language-work different orders of progression. We may
proceed from the spoken to the written or from the written to the
spoken: we may start with ear-training and articulation exercises or
leave them to a later stage: we may treat intonation as a fundamental
or leave it to the final stage: we may proceed from the sentence to the
word or _vice versa_: irregularities may be included or excluded during
the first part of the course: we may proceed from rapid and fluent to
slow utterance or _vice versa_.
Modern pedagogy tends to favour the former of each of these
alternatives: whereas the teachers of the past generations generally
pronounced in favour of the latter. The ancient school said: First
learn how to form words, then learn how to form sentences, then pay
attention to the ‘idiomatic’ phenomena, and lastly learn how to
pronounce and to speak. The modern school says: First learn to form
sounds, then memorize sentences, then learn systematically how to form
sentences, and lastly learn how to form words.
The two orders of progression, it will be seen, are almost directly
opposite to each other. We who have carefully examined and analysed the
arguments on either side are forced to conclude that the modern order
is the rational order, and psychologists will confirm our conclusion.
The old order stands for cramming and for an erratic and weak curve of
progress: the modern order stands for results which are both immediate
and of a permanent nature. The old order teaches us much about the
language and its theory: the modern order teaches us how to _use_ a
language.
15. THE MULTIPLE LINE OF APPROACH
This ninth and last of the essential principles of language-study
welds the eight others into a consistent whole; it harmonizes any
seeming contradictions and enables us to observe in a perfectly
rational manner all of the precepts set forth under their respective
headings; it answers once for all most of those perplexing questions
which have engaged the attention of so many language-teachers and
controversialists for such a long time.
If this principle is in contradiction to the spirit of partisanship,
it is equally opposed to the spirit of compromise; it suggests a third
and better course, that of accepting any two or more rival expedients
and of embodying them boldly as separate items in the programme, in
order that each may fulfil its function in a well-proportioned and
well-organized whole.
The term ‘multiple line of approach’ implies that we are to proceed
simultaneously from many different starting-points towards one and
the same end; we use each and every method, process, exercise, drill,
or device which may further us in our immediate purpose and bring us
nearer to our ultimate goal; we adopt every good idea and leave the
door open for all future developments; we reject nothing except useless
and harmful forms of work. The multiple line of approach embodies
the eclectic principle (using the term in its general and favourable
sense), for it enjoins us to select judiciously and without prejudice
all that is likely to help us in our work. Whether our purpose is the
complete mastery of the language in all its aspects and branches, or
whether our purpose is a more special one, the principle holds good: we
adopt the best and most appropriate means towards the required end.
16. ‘MEMORIZED MATTER’ AND ‘CONSTRUCTED MATTER’
When more is known about speech-psychology and the ultimate processes
of language-study, it will be possible to embody as one of the
fundamental principles the following considerations:
The whole of our speech-material is possessed by us either as
‘memorized matter’ or as ‘constructed matter.’
_Memorized matter_ includes everything which we have memorized
integrally, whether syllables, words, word-groups, sentences, or whole
passages.
_Constructed matter_ includes everything not so memorized, _i.e._
matter which we compose as we go on, matter which we build up unit
by unit from our stock of memorized matter while we are speaking or
writing.
There are three manners of producing constructed matter from memorized
matter; we may term these respectively _grammatical construction_,
_ergonic construction_, and _conversion_.
_Grammatical Construction._--In this process, our memorized matter
consists of ‘_dictionary words_’ (_i.e._ uninflected and unmodified
root-like words). By learning the theories of accidence, syntax,
derivation, and composition we become (or hope to become) able to
produce constructed matter at will.
_Ergonic Construction._--In this process, our memorized matter
consists of two elements: _more or less complete sentences_ and
‘_working words_’ (units of speech ready inflected, ready modified,
ready derived, or ready compounded), which units may be termed
‘ergons.’ By means of appropriate tables and drill-like forms of work,
from this memorized matter we produce more or less spontaneously the
requisite constructed matter.
_Conversion._--In this process, our memorized matter consists of
classified series of sentences which are to be converted into other
forms by means of appropriate exercises of various kinds.
In the opinion of many, the greatest evil in present-day methods lies
in the fact that an almost exclusive use is made of the first of these
processes as a method of producing constructed matter. Instead of
concentrating their efforts on condemning this process as a vicious
and unnatural one, the reformers of thirty years ago merely advocated
what has been termed the ‘direct method,’ the chief features of which
are the abolition of translation exercises and of the use of the
mother-tongue as a vehicle of instruction.
THE PRINCIPLES OF LANGUAGE-STUDY
CHAPTER I
OUR SPONTANEOUS CAPACITIES FOR ACQUIRING SPEECH
What do we do in order to become skilful in the exercise of an art?
If we wish to become proficient in performing an unlimited series of
complicated acts, what course do we adopt in order to obtain such
proficiency? The first answer which suggests itself is to the effect
that such skill or proficiency is acquired by a process called _study_
or _learning_. We learn to do it; we _study_ the art; we follow a
course and all that the course implies; we attend lectures, we take
lessons, we read the text-book containing the principles (rudimentary
or otherwise) which embody the precepts relating to that art, we
perform exercises; in short, we become _students_. Very well; let
us accept the answer for what it is worth and proceed to formulate
a series of supplementary questions: What are the qualities which
mark the successful student? What sort of people are likely to study
with success? Of what people can we predict failure or incapacity for
making progress? Most people will answer: The student must possess
intelligence, assiduity, and perseverance; if at the same time he
should be ‘gifted,’ his progress will be much greater than the progress
of one who possesses no ‘natural talents’ for learning the art in
question.
This answer, on the face of it, seems a reasonable one and a right one;
it gives us the impression of being in accordance with the traditions
and maxims of the pedagogic world, and with our experience, either
as teachers or as learners. We think of our efforts (successful or
unsuccessful) to learn shorthand, piano-playing, violin-playing,
singing, chess, typewriting, dancing, drawing, painting, modelling,
carpentering, and a host of similar subjects; we remember the intensive
acts of analysis and synthesis, the efforts of attention, the strain of
comprehending, the striving to retain; we remember the hours of solid
labour, the exercises, the drills, the spade-work; we consider the
period of time covered by these continuous efforts, and we realize the
cost at which we have acquired our present proficiency.
And yet there exists an art, we are told, in which every one of us
has become proficient, an art in which every man, woman, and child
throughout the world is a skilful adept, an art which has been acquired
without any process resembling study, without lectures or lessons or
text-books or theory, without the exercise of our powers of conscious
or critical reflection, or analysis, or synthesis, or generalization,
without the giving of our conscious attention, without deliberate
effort or striving.
This art, we are told, requires no intelligence on the part of the one
who is learning it; on the contrary, the least intelligent often prove
to be among the most successful adepts, notably very young children,
idiots, or barbarians of the lowest scale.
This statement seems so strange on the face of it, so paradoxical and
so contrary to our preconceived notions concerning the acquiring of
knowledge, that we immediately suspect some ‘catch’; we are inclined
to treat as a joker the one who has so gravely made the statement. The
‘art’ in question is probably something of an absurdly rudimentary
character, something of such a simple nature that it neither admits of
analysis or synthesis nor requires any form of logical or co-ordinated
thought. But no, the art in question is one involving at least three
distinct sciences, each of which is so complex and so vast that the
learned world has not yet succeeded in unravelling it or in sounding
its depths.
Convinced by now that we are the object of some form of ingenious
witticism, we ask: What, then, is this strange art in which the dunce
excels, this art which requires of its adepts neither brains, industry,
nor patience?
The answer is: _The art of using the spoken and everyday form of any
given language_. Show me the child of three years of age, the madman,
or the savage, who is not an expert at it!
Let us make sure that we have understood this answer, in order that
we may not misinterpret it, in order that we may not read into it a
meaning which is not there. In the first place, there is no question
here of _reading_ or _writing_ the language, but of _understanding what
is said_, and of _expressing what we wish to say by speaking_; and
the art in question has nothing to do with alphabets, with letters,
with spelling, with calligraphy, which are artificial developments
deliberately invented by man. Nor is there any question of _literary
composition_ in prose or poetry; we are not dealing with any æsthetic
form, but merely with the ‘everyday’ form, the colloquial form, the
sort of speech we use on ordinary occasions in order to express our
usual thoughts. Let there be no mistake on this point: the higher
forms of language, the artistic developments, eloquence or literature,
may interest us, may interest us intensely, but the particular art of
which we are now speaking is far removed from these heights; we are
considering language as manifested by the normal colloquial form as
used by the average speaker in ordinary circumstances.
Now there is no doubt whatever that proficiency in this particular
sort of human activity is possessed by every human being who is not
congenitally deaf or dumb; we are all able to say what we want to
say, we are all able to understand what is said to us provided that
the communication concerns things which are within the limits of our
knowledge. We have acquired this proficiency not by a course of study
as we understand the term in its ordinary use; we have not learnt it
as a result of lectures or lessons; it has not come as a consequence
of deliberate effort and concentration. Some of us, in exceptional
circumstances, may have availed ourselves of our intelligence; but in
general our intelligence, our reasoning powers, our capacities for
deduction, for analysis and synthesis, have counted for nothing in the
process.
Might we not then call it a ‘gift’? Did we not mention specifically
that those who have a gift for a particular art can to a certain extent
dispense with the qualities of intelligence, assiduity, perseverance?
There is no objection against using the term ‘gift,’ provided that it
is clear to our minds that everybody possesses the gift in question.
Usually, however, we understand by ‘gift’ something ‘given’ to
certain individuals only; consequently we are not in the habit of
speaking about the gift of sight, of hearing, or of locomotion. It
would be safer to avoid the term and to speak rather of our natural,
spontaneous, and universal _capacity_ for using spoken language.
But are we right as to our facts? Is it true that we acquire speech
by some capacity other than our intelligence, our reasoning powers?
Let our answer be based on objective and easily proven evidence.
A child of two or three years of age can use the spoken language
appropriate to his age, but what does that child know of reasoning?
And what is its standard of intelligence? Not enough to cause it to
realize or understand that two and two make four. And yet that child
observes with a marvellous degree of accuracy most of the complicated
laws governing his mother-tongue. And the savage. By definition he
is unintelligent, he has never learnt to think logically, he has no
power of abstraction, he is probably unaware that such a thing as
language exists; but he will faithfully observe to the finest details
the complexities (phonetic, grammatical, and semantic) of his ‘savage’
language. He will use the right vowel or tone in the right place; he
will not confuse any of the dozen or so genders with which his language
is endowed; a ‘savage’ language (with an accidence so rich that Latin
is by comparison a language of simple structure) will to him be an
instrument on which he plays in the manner of an artist, a master: and
we are speaking of a savage, mark you, whose intelligence is of so low
an order that for him that which is not concrete has no existence!
In English we have a tone-system so complicated that no one has so far
discovered its laws, but little English children observe each nicety
of tone with marvellous precision; a learned specialist in ‘tonetics’
(or whatever the science of tones will come to be called) may make
an error, but the little child will not. The grammatical system of
the Bantu languages depends largely on fine shades of intonation; the
dropping of the voice a semitone at certain points in the sentence, for
instance, is an essential feature of their syntax, while the highly
complex system of tone-mutation serves as a basis of their conjugation
and declension; but no Bechuana or Matabele native, illiterate as he
may be, will ever commit the slightest error in the use of his tones.
When, therefore, we find that a person has become expert in a difficult
and complex subject, the theory of which has not yet been worked out,
nor yet been discovered, it is manifest that his expertness has been
acquired otherwise than by the study of the theory.
Let us furthermore examine what passes in our mind when we are speaking
our own language, and endeavour to ascertain whether we form our
sentences in unconscious obedience to some rules unknown to us, or
whether we are consciously applying rules we have learnt. Do you say _I
go always there_ or _I always go there_? You certainly use the latter
form. Why? Have you ever been told that a certain class of adverbs
(among them the word _always_) is placed before and not after the verb?
Have you been told that there are twenty-three exceptions to the rule,
and have you ever learnt these exceptions? It is most probable that you
have never had your attention called to the rule or to its exceptions.
You put _always_ in front of all verbs except the twenty-three
exceptional verb-forms for the very reason for which the African native
puts the right tone on the right syllable in the right case. In what
cases do you replace the word _far_ by the expression _a long way_?
What are the precise laws governing the respective uses of _went_ and
_did go_? Which are the English ‘postpositions,’ if any? In what cases
do we use nouns unpreceded by any article or other determinative word?
What is the exact difference between _had you_ and _did you have_?
These are a few odd examples chosen at random out of the thousands of
items the sum of which constitutes the theory of the structure of the
English colloquial language. Most of them are not contained in any
manual of English grammar nor ever taught as a school subject.
We are forced to conclude that we have become proficient in the use of
our mother-tongue by some process other than that of learning by dint
of conscious efforts of reasoning and synthesis.
While granting the above conclusion and recognizing its validity,
some may object that the process of unconscious assimilation is
_not_ sufficient to ensure skill and proficiency in the use of the
language. This objection may be supported by proofs to the effect that
the English of young children (not to mention adults) is frequently
‘incorrect’ or ‘ungrammatical.’ Can this process of nature be said
to have succeeded when it produces such results as “Any bloke what
don’t do it proper didn’t ought to come”? Certainly the process has
succeeded; most certainly the natural forces have operated with
perfect success! The only trouble is that users of such sentences have
succeeded in learning a dialect which most of us agree to consider a
deplorable one; this dialect is to our ears an ugly and a repelling
one, but in itself it is probably no easier to learn than the educated
colloquial. An educated person to whom this dialect is foreign would
probably have to pass a long period of study should he wish, for
any particular purpose, to become expert in its use. It is quite a
fallacy to suppose that a debased or vulgar form of speech is of easier
acquisition than the more elevated forms. The language, dialect,
patois, or form of speech taught by nature to the child (or adult) is
that form which he hears spoken by those about him during the period of
acquisition, be it the stilted speech of the pedant or the jargon of
the slums.
Let us accept the thesis as so far proven; let us agree that this
spontaneous capacity exists, that every child does become expert in
this art, and that his expertness has been gained by the exercise of
some powers other than those of conscious reflection or reasoning. But
does not this relate solely to the acquisition of one’s mother-tongue?
In the definition of the art in question the term ‘any given language’
was used. Do we conclude that this given language is the _first_
language, or are we assuming that the same process holds good for any
_foreign_ or _subsequently learnt_ language?
The question is a legitimate one; we may well ask ourselves whether
the forces which were operative in the case of our first language
are available for the acquisition of a second, third, or fourth
language. Let us, as before, go to the actual facts and collect
objective evidence on the point. What evidence is afforded by bilingual
children, that is to say, by children who have learnt two languages
simultaneously, children of mixed parentage, children whose care has
been entrusted to foreign nurses, children who live abroad with their
parents? In nearly all the cases of which we have any record it would
appear that the two languages have been acquired simultaneously without
mutual detriment; there has been practically no confusion between the
two, and the one has had little or no influence on the other. Both have
been acquired by the natural language-teaching forces which are at
present engaging our attention.
The next evidence will consist of the testimony afforded by children
who started their second language after the first had already been
acquired as a going concern. We find almost invariably that the second
language is picked up with the same facility and accuracy as the first.
Thousands of Belgian refugee children returned to their country in
possession of an English speech hardly to be distinguished from the
speech of English children of their own age. Their first language had
interfered in no way with their power of acquiring the second. There
were, however, exceptions; in some instances the possession of the
first language did interfere with the proper acquiring of the second.
What was the determining factor? To what was due this differentiation?
We find that in most cases the child was of a riper age, he had arrived
at the age of intelligence, and had been forced to use his rudimentary
intelligence as a means towards learning English. He was old enough
and clever enough to receive eye-impressions side by side with
ear-impressions. He was old enough to pay attention, he was intelligent
enough to concentrate, he was skilful enough to analyse and to compare
the second language with his first, he was able to translate. These
things had a harmful influence on his work; they interfered with the
processes by which nature causes us to assimilate and to remember,
and the quality of his English suffered; it was to a certain extent
‘foreigner’s’ English, whereas his younger brothers spoke ‘English’
English.
And what happens in the case of the adult, of one who starts his second
language from fifteen to twenty years after he has acquired the first?
The same thing generally happens as in the last instance quoted, but
in a more marked degree. The same interference takes place; the use of
the eyes inhibits the use of the ears; the utilization of his conscious
and focused attention militates against the proper functioning of the
natural capacities of assimilation. Moreover, he is encouraged and
trained to use the non-natural methods, he is directed by his teacher
to pay attention to everything, to use his eyes, to memorize spellings
(generally non-phonetic); his books show him how to analyse, they
provide him with exercises calculated to make him concentrate on the
detail, and in so doing to miss the synthetic whole. Examine the adult
who is supposed to have ‘learnt’ a foreign language; in the majority of
cases you will find that his speech is pidgin-speech, that his sounds
are wrong and wrongly distributed, that his inflexions are inaccurate,
that his sentences are constructed on the model of his native language,
that he uses foreign words in a way unknown to the native users of
these same words. Inquire in each case how the person acquired his
knowledge, and you will find that he acquired it by dint of exercising
his capacities for study.
And the minority? We find a minority (alas, a small minority!) who
have come to possess the foreign language as if it were their first.
Their sounds are right, the distribution is right, the inflexions are
accurate, their sentences are constructed on the model of those used by
the native speakers, they use foreign words as the natives themselves
use them, they are as accurate and as fluent in the foreign language
as in their own. They do not interrupt the speaker of the language
with requests to speak more slowly, to speak more distinctly, to spell
or to write the words; in short, they use the second language as they
use their first. Inquire in each case how the person acquired his
knowledge, and you will find that he acquired it by methods making no
call on his capacities for reasoning, for concentrating, for analysing,
or for theorizing. Instead of selecting and adapting previously
acquired habits connected with his first language, he was able to form
new habits.
To sum up our inquiry, we find that there are people who have been able
to use their spontaneous capacities of assimilation in order to acquire
a second or a third language; we find that young children nearly always
do so, that certain adults sometimes do so.
But we must make quite sure of our ground before proceeding farther.
We must ascertain definitely whether all adults possess what we are
calling this spontaneous capacity for assimilation, or whether this
is a ‘gift’ in the usual acceptation of the term, that is, whether
it is a capacity given to some but withheld by nature from others.
Some maintain that from the age of reason onwards none but the gifted
possess the capacity in question, and that those who do not possess it
are bound to use what we shall call the _studial_ processes. Others,
on the contrary, maintain that all possess the capacity either in
an active or in a latent state, that most adults deliberately but
innocently inhibit their power, or that, unaware that these powers
exist, they fail to take the necessary steps to awaken them from their
latent into their active state.
Which of these two is the correct view?
Let us endeavour to answer this all-important question by examining
those who undoubtedly do possess this ‘gift’ or natural capacity. We
first inquire whether they were encouraged or disposed to resist the
temptation to receive their impressions through the eyes, to resist the
temptation to rely on spellings, whether they did consent to use their
ears as the receptive medium. In each case we learn that they were so
disposed; they did resist the temptation towards eye-work and did allow
the ears to perform the work for which they were intended.
We next inquire whether the conditions were such as prohibited them
from focusing their consciousness, from paying an exaggerated attention
to detail, from submitting the language-matter to a form of analysis,
from comparing each foreign word or form with some word or form of
their native language. In each case we are informed that such _were_
the conditions.
Our next inquiry is directed towards ascertaining whether, in the
earlier stages, the conditions afforded them full and constant
opportunities of hearing the language used, _without being under the
necessity of speaking it themselves_. In each instance we are informed
that those were precisely the conditions.
This is almost conclusive; we have ascertained that each successful
acquirer of the foreign language was working precisely under the
conditions enjoyed by the young child (and we remember that the young
child is invariably a successful acquirer of foreign languages). It
is, however, not conclusive enough; we have yet to inquire under what
conditions the other type of adult (the supposedly non-gifted one) had
been working. We ask the same three sets of questions, and in answer we
learn:
(_a_) That he was encouraged by his teachers to learn by the medium of
his eyes, to base his knowledge on spellings (generally non-phonetic),
and in so doing to inhibit his ears from fulfilling their natural
function.
(_b_) That he generally focused his consciousness, that he paid
attention to detail, that he studied rules and practised analysis, that
he constantly established comparisons between the foreign word and the
nearest native equivalent.
(_c_) That conditions were such that he had few or no opportunities of
hearing the language used, while he was obliged to use the language
himself, to forge out sentences as best he might, neglectful of
accuracy and heedless of their conformity or non-conformity with
authentic models.
This is conclusive; there is no doubt about it now. Those who seemingly
do not possess the spontaneous capacity for assimilating _foreign_
languages are precisely those who were unwilling to avail themselves
of it, or who were precluded from availing themselves of it. And by
developing their studial powers they simply inhibited the spontaneous
powers and effectively prevented them from working.
No reasonable doubt remains: we are all endowed by nature with certain
capacities which enable each of us, without the exercise of our powers
of study, to assimilate and to use the spoken form of any colloquial
language, whether native or foreign. We may avail ourselves of these
powers by training ourselves deliberately to utilize them, or, having
more confidence in our studial efforts, or for some reason of special
expediency, we may choose to leave our spontaneous capacities in their
latent state and make no use of them. We cannot, however, afford to
ignore them, and it would be foolish to deny their existence.
We shall see later what steps we must take if we wish to rouse these
powers from their latent state, what we must do if we wish to enlist
them and have them at our disposal for the purpose of learning or of
teaching a foreign language.