THE STUDENT AND HIS AIM
What is the best method of language-study? This fundamental question is
one which is continually asked by all those who are seriously engaged
in teaching or in learning a foreign language. We say ‘seriously’ and
lay stress on the word, for among teachers and students there are many,
unfortunately, who are not disposed to take their work seriously, who
see no necessity for any earnest consideration of the ways and means
to be adopted. They are content to teach as they themselves have
been taught, or to learn as others have learnt before them, without
inquiring whether the plan or the programme is a sound one, without
even inquiring whether the method is one which is likely to produce any
good results whatever. But the serious teacher or student, who wishes
to perform efficient work, must of necessity ask himself whether the
path he has chosen is one which will lead anywhere near the desired
end or ends. He may experiment with various methods and try a number
of different systems in order to ascertain which of these secures the
best results, and after many such trials he may either hit upon what
seems to be an ideal type of work and stick to it, or, dissatisfied
with everything he has tried, he may once again seek counsel and ask
once more the old and hackneyed question: What is the best method of
language-study?
The first answer which suggests itself is: “The best method is that
which adopts the best means to the required end,” and indeed this is
perhaps the only concise answer which can be furnished off-hand. But
the answer is not satisfactory; it is too general, and so true that
it ranks as a truism; it is resented as being a facetious manner of
shelving the question. The inquirer has every right to return to the
charge and to put the supplementary question: “What is the method which
adopts the best means to the required end?”
In the present book we shall endeavour to find the best answer or the
best series of answers to this most legitimate question. In doing so
we shall set forth, with as much precision as is consistent with the
claims of conciseness, the conclusions arrived at by those who have
specialized in the subject and have obtained positive evidence bearing
on it.
Fundamental as the question appears, there is yet a previous question
of which we must dispose before going further, for we cannot determine
“what is the best method adopting the best means towards the required
end” until we know more precisely what _is_ the required end.
For there are many possible ends, and many categories of students, each
with a particular aim before him.
Many desire a knowledge of the written language only; they wish to be
able to read and write, not to understand the spoken language nor to
speak. Some may limit their attainment to a capacity for reading the
language; they wish to have direct access to technical or other books.
Others conceivably may wish solely to become able to write letters
in the language. Many are only concerned with spoken language; they
wish to be able to speak and to understand what they hear. Some wish
to possess an ‘understanding’ knowledge only, while others are content
merely to make themselves understood.
The student may limit his requirements to a very superficial knowledge
of some pidgin form of the language, and will be perfectly happy if
he just succeeds in making himself understood by using some atrocious
caricature of the language which he is supposed to be learning. Or
he may be more ambitious and set out in earnest to become master of
the living language just as it is spoken and written by the natives
themselves. The phonetician will wish to attain absolute perfection in
the pronunciation of the language; the etymologist will concentrate on
the historical aspect; the philologist will not be happy unless he is
comparing the structure with that of cognate languages; the grammarian
will specialize in grammar, and the lexicologist or semantician will
study the meanings.
The clerk or merchant will specialize in the commercial language
and learn how to draw up bills of lading or to conduct business
correspondence. The hotel-keeper or waiter will concentrate on hotel
colloquial, as also will the tourist or tripper. The _littérateur_ will
aim straight at the literature and disdain any of the non-æsthetic
aspects or branches. Every calling or profession will seek its own
particular line, and for each there will be a particular aim.
Many students have as their sole aim the passing of a given
examination. Whether they come to know the language or not is a matter
of comparative indifference to them; their business is to obtain as
many marks as possible with the least amount of effort, and what does
not lead directly to this aim is not of interest. It is the duty of
many or most teachers to coach or to cram their pupils in order that
satisfactory examination results may be obtained; they cannot afford to
do anything else, nor have they any desire to do so. If the examination
includes questions on phonetic theory, the pupil will be crammed with
phonetic theory; if it includes a test in conversation, the pupil will
be crammed with conversational tags; if it requires the capacity of
translating, the pupil will duly be coached in the art of translating;
if it requires a knowledge of a given text or series of texts, these
will be the subject of study. If the pupil or his teacher knows
something of the particular examiner, special efforts will be made to
please that particular examiner. But this has little or nothing to do
with the serious study of languages.
Some people are professional translators or interpreters; it is their
business to render a faithful account of a speech or a sentence
uttered in another language or to interpret the thoughts of some
foreign writer. This work requires very special qualifications and
necessitates a very special study, so much so that those who are
perfectly bilingual experience a great difficulty every time that
they are called upon to render a faithful translation of any document
or a faithful interpretation of any oral communication. The task of
the translator is quite distinct from that of the ordinary student
of language, and is to be dealt with as such. Generally speaking,
however, the language-learner will have comparatively little to do
with the profession of interpreter or translator, and even in the
exceptional cases he will do well to leave this particular branch
until he has attained a certain proficiency in using the foreign
language independently of any other. We have already alluded to the
special requirements of the technician; we have seen that some require
a knowledge of the structure or of certain aspects of one or more
languages.
Such people, having entirely different aims, require entirely different
methods; they must be furnished with everything that will facilitate
their work of analysis or synthesis, and we may omit from their
programme everything which does not lead directly towards the limited
and special end they have in view.
Yet another factor is present and must be considered before we can
draw up any definite programme of study. Are we giving a three
months’ course or a three years’ course? If we are to obtain concrete
and definite results in a limited space of time, our course must
necessarily be an intensive one; we shall have to make a generous
use of studial methods; we shall not be able to afford anything like
an adequate period of preparation; we shall be forced to take short
cuts and we shall reluctantly be compelled to sacrifice a certain
measure of soundness to the requirements of speed. If, however, at the
end of the short course to which circumstances limit our student’s
opportunity, he has a chance to continue his studies by himself or to
reside in the country where the language is spoken, we may devote the
whole of our time to preparatory work. We may give him an intensive
course of ear-training, articulation, or fluency exercises, cause him
to memorize a certain number of key-sentences, and drill him into good
habits of language-study. If we adopted this plan we should be laying
the foundations upon which the student would build later by his own
initiative, but the drawback would be that the student would have made
but small progress in the actual process of assimilating vocabulary; he
would be well prepared, but would have little to show as a result of
his two or three months’ work.
If, on the other hand, we know that we have a clear period of two
or more years before us, our task will be much easier. Instead of
proceeding at a breathless rate to produce immediate concrete results,
we may go to work in a more leisurely and more natural way. We may sow,
and be assured that the harvest will be reaped in due time; the natural
powers of language-study work surely but not rapidly; nature takes
her time but yields a generous interest. With a long period in front
of us, we may afford adequate intervals for ‘incubation’; it will not
be necessary for us to accelerate the normal process of assimilation,
but merely to let it develop in a gradual but ever-increasing and
cumulative ratio. At the end of, let us say, the first year, our
student will easily outstrip those whose initial progress seemed more
satisfactory.
Evidently it will not be possible to draw up a programme of study
which will be suitable for all the diverse requirements we have set
forth. Nor will it be possible for every teacher to consider the
individual requirements of each one of his pupils. We cannot have
a specially printed course, nor even a manuscript one, for every
student; but in the case of private lessons or of self-instruction
we may certainly give a large amount of consideration to individual
needs. The bad pronouncer will concentrate on phonetic work, the bad
speller on orthographic work, the bad listener on devices leading
towards immediate comprehension; the clerk will work with texts of a
commercial nature, the tourist will specialize on hotel colloquial,
etc. No student will ever be expected to work with one book only; each
will gradually acquire a miniature library, and this library need not
be the same for everybody.
In the case of collective courses and class teaching, individual
requirements will be less observed, but in drawing up the programme
the teacher will aim at the average result desired by or considered
desirable for the average member of the class. As we shall see later,
it is quite feasible to design lessons suitable for a class containing
pupils of different capacities; we can arrange that some shall take an
active part while others are assimilating more or less passively.
We see, in short, that when starting a new course under new conditions
the teacher must draw up a programme. This programme will be divided
into so many periods or stages, and for each period certain forms
of work will be specified, these being designed to lead in the most
efficient way to whatever the aim may happen to be. Without such a
programme the teacher will never know exactly where his class stands,
the work will be too much of a hand-to-mouth nature, and there will be
loose ends. This programme may of course be more or less experimental
or tentative; it may be modified in accordance with the teacher’s
experience and with the results he has so far obtained. The idea of
a hard-and-fast programme does not commend itself; it should, on the
contrary, be more or less elastic in order that it may be expanded or
contracted according to circumstances. Anything in the nature of a
‘patent method’ (guaranteed to work within so many lessons) suggests
quackery. Our programme should be something other than a rigid
procedure based on any one particular principle, however logical that
principle may seem to be. There are many logical principles, and we
must strive to incorporate all of them into whatever programme we
design. We shall treat of these in the next chapters.