[28] Obwohl ich mich seit geraumer zeit mit der theorie der sprachen
beschäftige, hege ich noch heutzutage eine abneigung gegen die
systematischen sprachlehren.--_Auf anlass des volapüks._ Berlin, 1888,
p. 38.
[29] If the text-book itself does not recommend certain exercises for
each piece.
[30] On the whole teachers who read connected pieces with their pupils
in the thorough manner which I have suggested, will be surprised at
the strong powers of association produced by successiveness; one word
always recalls the whole context in which it has been learned. In one
of the exercises given by Walter, pupil A mentions one of the words
which the class has had and then the name of pupil B, who is thereupon
expected to give the whole sentence in which the word occurs. Of course
this can be done now and then by way of recreation; as a rule it is
not necessary. This new method of always learning and remembering the
words in their natural context may be compared to the newest methods in
natural history teaching, according to which the pupils must see the
animals and plants as they are at home in their natural surroundings,
acted upon by them and in turn acting upon them.
[31] Each phenomenon which is taken up should, however, be treated to
the end with as much thoroughness as is possible at _that_ standpoint.
Grammar ought not to be taken up during the lesson merely as a matter
of secondary importance, subordinated to other exercises, whose object
is to help the pupils to understand the text, or to develop their
practical skill in the language. If the teacher does not want to devote
a whole hour to the grammar, he can at least draw a sharp line between
these exercises in theory and the other exercises. One thing at a time,
and that done well!
[32] Or when a period is reached, he may give all the substantives
which he has found one at a time--the rest as above. The advantage of
this is that the connexion is kept intact.
[33] Dr. Sweet tries to throw ridicule on my suggestion as to
inventional grammar (_The Practical Study of Languages_, 1899, p.
115-116); he seems to forget the distinction between independent
grammatical research and teaching in schools; and when he speaks about
the boys having to sort “a hundredweight or so of slips,” I think his
exaggeration needs no further refutation than the above statements,
which are nothing but an amplification of what I wrote in 1886.
Fortunately, on p. 117, Dr. Sweet recommends practically the same
course as is outlined here, only carried out to a less extent.
[34] The French superlative is a purely syntactical, the comparative,
a mixed phenomenon.
[35] I have treated accidence and syntax together in my own little
English grammar (_Kortfattet engelsk grammatik for tale- og
skriftsproget_, Copenhagen, 1st edition 1885, 4th ed. 1903).
[36] With reference to grammatical systematization, I may refer to my
preliminary remarks in _Progress in Language_ (London, Sonnenschein
894), p. 138 ff.
[37] I am tempted here to enlarge upon Gouin’s method of teaching
languages, but I have neither the space, nor exactly the desire, to
do so since I have never seen it carried out in practice. I can refer
to R. Kron’s (certainly too enthusiastic) description (_Die neueren
sprachen_, III, also published separately), and to Brekke’s (for me
absolutely convincing) criticism: “Indberetning om en stipendierejse
til England for at studere Gouins metode for undervisning i sprog”
(Quousque Tandem No. = Norske univ. og skoleannaler, 1894).
X
Here, last but not least, comes the treatment of the _pronunciation_,
which for several reasons I have not taken up first, although the
questions which are here to be discussed necessarily play a part
already from the very first lesson in a foreign language. I have now
for many years advocated the use of phonetics--yes, even of phonetical
transcription, in the teaching of foreign languages, and have to
a large extent put my theories into practice both in dealing with
children of all ages and with grown persons. New things always frighten
people; they think with terror that here the pupils are to be burdened
with an entirely new and difficult science and with a new kind of
writing; we had trouble enough with the old kind, they say, and now we
are to be bothered with this new alphabet with its barbarous letters!
Every educator must see how objectionable it is; now we have learned
languages for so many years without such modern inventions, and the old
way ought to be good enough for us still.
That is about the run of the objections raised. This the answer:
Phonetics is a science, to be sure, and, like all other sciences, it is
not without its difficult and mooted points. Yet the fact that large
volumes can be written about botany does not frighten us from teaching
our children _some_ botany. In mathematics there are many things which
are beyond the comprehension of ordinary school-children, but yet they
have to learn _some_ mathematics. Phonetics is not a new study that we
want to add to the school curriculum; we only want to take as much of
the science as will really be a positive help in learning something
which has to be learned _anyway_. We must remember what science is,
and what part it plays. Of course in our days every science collects
more and more material and requires more and more specialization, so
that parts of it become quite inaccessible for all persons except the
specialists themselves; but the whole idea of science is that it shall
be _unified knowledge_ (Spencer), a summing up of all the numerous
details of reality under large, comprehensive points of view, the
establishing of great, general laws, which apply to all single cases.
That is also why science can be termed “ökonomie des denkens,” and
that is why science can suggest means of facilitating thought and the
acquirement of knowledge. We want to have some phonetics introduced
into our schools, because theory has convinced us, and experiment has
proved to us, that by means of this science we can, with decidedly
greater certainty, and in an essentially easier way, give an absolutely
better pronunciation in a much shorter space of time than would be
possible without phonetics.
And as for that hobgoblin called phonetical transcription--well, it is
no “new alphabet,” not even as new as the Gothic (German) letters are,
and much less so than the Greek alphabet, with which the pupils are
burdened (without their being of the slightest use[38]), to say nothing
of the new names for the letters. In learning Greek the pupils have to
operate with thirty odd new symbols; in our phonetical transcription
for school use, we do not need more than from five to eight new symbols
for each language; otherwise it consists of the ordinary letters, and
every letter in it retains one of its familiar values, which is used
consistently everywhere, the new symbols being mostly modifications of
the known letters; ʃ reminds us of s, ʒ of z, ɛ and ə of e, ŋ of n. The
whole thing is no worse than that.
If you refer to your experience in opposition to these new ways of
teaching, you only invite the answer: Yes, your experience shows how a
_poor_ pronunciation may be learned!
Why must we learn how to pronounce the foreign languages at all? Well,
in the first place, it must be because there is the possibility that
we may meet natives some time later. Otherwise we might, perhaps,
be satisfied with _reading_ the foreign words according to English
principles of pronunciation, French _pain_ like English “pain,”
Werther as “worth her,” etc. I have known old parsons who have taught
themselves English so as to be able to read novels, and who read
English with Danish vowels, pronounced the _k_ in _knight_, etc. For
a superficial “getting the gist” of shilling shockers and penny
dreadfuls, this is sufficient perhaps, but I maintain that for a
penetrating, delicate comprehension of real works of literature this
manner of reading is not enough. Language cannot be separated from
sound, and that is the sum of the matter; only he who hears the foreign
language within himself in exactly or approximately the same way as a
native hears it can really appreciate and enjoy not only poetry, where
phonetic effects must needs always play an important part, but also
all the higher forms of prose. Then there is the mnemonic benefit of
a correct pronunciation. It helps the pupil to keep foreign languages
distinct from each other; for instance, he will never be misled to
think that _jeune_ means “pretty” on account of its resemblance to
_schön_, and he will not be apt to confuse French _joli_, _journée_,
_nouvelle_ with English _jolly_, _journey_, _novel_. In the second
place, Madvig is right--and this applies to the living languages
too--when he writes: “Finally there is scarcely any doubt that progress
in the dead languages would become more rapid if, so far as possible,
for instance, through reading and pronouncing distinctly and through
memorizing new expressions, the language came not only through the eye,
but more through the ear than it does in most places now.”
Our pronunciation according to the old school is extremely poor,
indeed, much more frightful than most people imagine. It has among
others these two disadvantages, that we do not understand the natives,
and that we are not understood by them.
The very first lesson in a foreign language ought to be devoted to
initiating the pupils into the world of sounds; if the class has
already had such an elementary course in sounds, either in connection
with the study of their mother tongue (something we ought to come to in
the course of time at any rate), or in connection with another foreign
language, it can of course be made briefer; it is scarcely safe to omit
it entirely. The conversation may be formed as simply as the following
one, where all scientific terms are avoided; not even the word “organ”
is necessary. (Of course the answers will not always be as prompt and
decided as here, and much will need to be repeated several times with
different pupils.)
Teacher: John, can you say _papa_? Papa.--How do you go about it?
Say it once more.--_Papa._ First, I open my mouth, and then I open
it once again.--Yes, and in the meantime you must, of course, have
closed it. Look at me, all of you, and see if I too go about it in
that way--_Papa_. What did I do, William?--First you opened your
mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.--What did I close it
with?--With the lips.--Now, when I say _op_, _ap_, _ep_, what do I
do?--Close the lips every time, and then open them again.--Then I do
that every time I say _p_. Robert, can you find any other sounds where
I also close my lips? No.--Try the word _mama_.--Yes, in _m_.--Now,
say _baby_ and _bib_.--Also in _b_.--Good; then we have three sounds
now where the lips are closed, _p_, _b_, _m_. Let us write them in
a row on the blackboard. Is it necessary to close the lips in all
sounds?--No.--What is your name?--John Gordon Hunter.--All of you look
at him while he says it. John Gordon Hunter.--Did he close his lips
at all? No.--Then all the sounds which are in the whole of his name
must be said with other parts of the mouth than the lips. What else
have we that we use to speak with?--The tongue.--Now, when we say _n_,
for instance, _John_, _Anna_, what do we do?--Close with the tongue
behind the teeth.--What part of the tongue?--The point.--Now try _t_
in _atta_.--There we also close with the point of the tongue behind
the teeth. And _d_ in _adda_.--Likewise.--Then we use the point of the
tongue for _t_, _d_, _n_. Let us write them down under _p_, _b_, _m_.
Now _k_ in _akka_?--Look into my mouth. What do I do?--You close with
the tongue farther back in the mouth.--Yes, we call that the back of
the tongue. Howard, look into Edward’s mouth while he says _akka_.
Now _g_ in _agga_ (the sound _g_, of course, not the name dʒi· of the
letter). Then we can write them down in a third row. _p_, _b_, _m_ were
what kind of sounds?--Lip-sounds.--And _t_, _d_, _n_, were what kind?
Point-of-the-tongue sounds.--And the third row?--Back-of-the-tongue
sounds.--Yes, we might also say simply point-sounds and back-sounds.
[Here some one will ask]: Why are there not three there?--Yes, there
are three sounds there too, but we have no letter for the third. Say
_tinker_, and then _tin-kettle_. Is there no difference? Yes, in
_tin-kettle_ we have a pure _n_, but not in _tinker_; here we have
another sound before _k_.--Now try _finger_.--There we have the same
before _g_.--And in _singer_?--The same without a real _g_.--Look
into my mouth when I say (s)_inger_ [without s]. We can make a letter
for this new sound by writing an _n_, with the last stroke lengthened
below the line and slightly curled, as in _g_: ŋ.--James, come up
here and write down the four words as they sound, making use of the
new letter.--(He writes first _tin-kettle_).--No, do you hear more
than one _t_? and can you hear any _e_ after _l_?--No.--What then?
_tinketl_. (It is not worth while at this stage to require greater
phonetical exactness than _tinketl_, _tiŋker_, _fiŋger_, _siŋer_,
passing over the fact that the final _er_ in the words does not really
sound like e + r). You see, if you were a Frenchman trying to learn
English, you would not know that _n_ in _tin-kettle_ and in the other
words were different sounds, and that the _e_ was silent, and you would
pronounce the words incorrectly; but if the one were written _tinketl_
and the other _tiŋker_, it would be much easier for you to learn how to
pronounce them. And then take _fringe_; it looks as if it were simply
_finger_ with the _r_ in another place, and yet it is quite a different
sound, so we see that the two letters _ng_ may stand for three entirely
different sounds. We also write _knight_, and say “nait”; we write
_busy_ and say “bizi.” Can you find any other words which we spell
differently from the way in which we pronounce them? [Various examples
are found and analyzed.] When we write the words exactly as they sound,
we call it _phonetical transcription_. Now, in the beginning, we shall
write all French words phonetically, so that you can more easily learn
how to pronounce them. But you saw in the case of _tinker_ that we
occasionally need a new symbol in this transcription, which we do
not use otherwise. You will learn a few more of them in the course
of time.... Then we have seen that in order to say different sounds,
we can use the lips and the point of the tongue and the back of the
tongue. Is there nothing else that we need to speak with?--The nose?
Yes, that is all right in a way, but--can you move your nose? Look
at my nose; do I move it when I speak?--No.--But is it not possible
to use it without moving it? Now, see if I use my nose when I say
a···· [very long drawn out].[39] Now, I suddenly hold my nose with two
fingers, and press the nostrils together. Does that make the sound
different?--No.--But now I say m in the same way m···· and pinch the
nostrils together in the same way. Did anything happen?--Yes, there was
no sound.--Now you can try it yourselves. First you, George; say a···,
and then the boy next to you can suddenly pinch your nose together with
two fingers. And then say m···, and let Fred pinch your nose again. Can
you say m while your nostrils are closed?--No, at any rate the sound
soon disappears. All of you try it; say a· just as long as I do, and
pinch the nose together several times with your fingers whenever you
see me do it; and now likewise with m. That is because the air has to
escape through the nose in order that the sound m may be made. It is
the soft palate that you use in order to open the inner entrance to the
nose, so that the air can escape through the nostrils. You can feel the
palate behind the teeth, there it is hard; but if you pass your fingers
farther back, you will soon feel that it becomes soft and flexible. See
how it can go up and down in my mouth. Look in the mirror[40], and see
how your own palate is. First try breathing in and out silently, and
then say _a_; then you will see how your soft palate suddenly jumps
up; that is because it has to close the entrance to the nose, so that
no air can get out that way. But when you say m it remains hanging
down, so that the air can come out through the nose, the passage
through the mouth being closed by the lips. [At this point, you might
make a rough sketch on the blackboard, showing a cross-section through
the mouth, with the soft palate in the two positions.] In producing n
and ŋ, you have the same position of the soft palate as in the case of
m. [Try to pinch the nose together.]
Now we have seen how we use the nose and the mouth when we speak,
but are they the only things that are necessary in speaking? [If the
pupils cannot think of “voice” of their own accord, the teacher may
put them on the track by saying: when someone speaks (or sings) very
well, we say that he has a good...]--Voice.--Where is the voice?--In
the vocal chords.--And where are they?--In Adam’s apple.--[Here it
might be a good thing not to despise the anecdote about the apple
which stuck in Adam’s throat.] Now we also call that the larynx. In
there, there are two vocal chords stretched parallel to each other, and
when they vibrate a tone is produced, and that is what we call voice.
It is just as when a string of a violin is brought into vibration
and gives forth a tone; or a bell or a wine-glass, which is made to
quiver violently. Now do we always use the voice when we speak? You
do not know; well, then we can experiment. [Whisper a sentence.] Did
I use my voice then?--No.--Now try first to say an a··· quite loudly
and forcibly (or sing it), and take firm hold of Adam’s apple with
your thumb and forefinger; then you will feel it quiver. Have you
never tried to touch a piano with your finger tips while someone was
playing on it? Then you will have felt the same kind of delicate,
rapid, quivering movements as you feel on touching the larynx while
the voice is in activity. In both cases you can _feel_ those movements
with your fingers which you _hear_ with your ear as a tone. But now
whisper an a··· and feel your larynx; do you feel anything?--No, there
are no vibrations.--And try to say s··· [by no means the name of the
letter, _es_, but the hissing sound itself.] Is there voice in that?
Do you feel any vibration?--No.--Then s is a _voiceless_ sound, but a
is a _voiced_ sound. Now, try m··· [not _em_!] Is it voiced? and n···?
Notice that you can sing the voiced sounds [test several of them], but
not the voiceless sounds.[41] That f··· is voiceless, and that v···
(with strong buzzing!) is voiced, is easily discovered. In the same
way, we have for every voiceless sound a corresponding voiced sound.
Say s···, and now produce the corresponding voiced sound with the
buzzing element. They are the sounds we have in _so_ and _zoo_, _seal_
and _zebra_. We have also a third corresponding pair ʃ and ʒ; ʃ is
the sound in _shilling_, _shall_, etc.; ʒ is the sound in _measure_,
_pleasure_, etc. Then we may write down:
f s ʃ voiceless
v z ʒ voiced.
Now pronounce each sound in chorus as I point to the letter, and
continue drawing it out until I take the chalk away from the
letter.[42] Thereupon the pupils may be tested singly, the teacher
skipping from one sound to the other. Exercises may also be given with
the consonants between two vowels: afffa, avvva, asssa, azzza; afa,
ava, asa, aza.
Now the pupils have already had a little course in elementary
phonetics; it interests them and contains nothing that they cannot
understand, and nothing that is not useful for them. Nor does it ever
really frighten the children; but the very thought of it has actually
frightened a number of older teachers, who apparently live in holy
terror of trespassing beyond the lines laid out for them in their
childhood, and who unfailingly think that everything new must be just
as useless, dry and pedantical as most of what they learned in their
own schooldays, so they are not inclined to have the bother of making
themselves familiar with anything new.[43] In the Danish original of
this book, I reprinted as a curiosity a description of the activity of
the organs of speech in the production of speech-sounds, which a boy
14 years old, who had never been told anything about the formation of
sounds, had written all by himself, without the least instruction or
help of any kind (which can easily be seen, among other things, from
the fact that he sticks to and analyzes the names of the letters);
it shows that this dreaded phonetical science is not so terribly far
beyond the horizon of ordinary children after all.
The children always “follow” the teacher so well in these phonetical
exercises that it is rather necessary to put a damper on their
eagerness to try to produce the sounds than to spur them on. Or, in
other words, the teacher has but to organize their natural impulse to
imitate the sounds by saying to them, when they begin to whistle and
hum: “You may say the sounds yourselves directly, just wait a moment,”
and thereupon, after the explanation has been given, by allowing them
ample opportunity to pronounce the sounds, both in chorus and singly.
Then, both during recess and at home, they will revel to their hearts’
content in the new sounds, and the whole new and amusing world that has
been opened to them.
After the introductory course which I have just sketched,[44] I
immediately begin with texts in the foreign language. If the teacher
will at this point read one or two pages aloud rapidly (or give a
little talk) in as characteristically a French or German manner as
possible, this is a very good way to give the pupils a preliminary
notion of the foreignness of the new language. This impression may be
further emphasized by means of a little trick which I may recommend.
The teacher practises an English sentence pronounced as a Frenchman (or
German respectively) would pronounce it, with French vowels, French
accent, etc. He may refer to this sentence now and then in speaking
of the single sounds, and it will serve to warn the students against
the kind of mistakes that they themselves are to avoid. Then I take
up the new sounds in the more accidental order in which they occur
in the selection for reading; I repeat every word, together with its
meaning, write it down on the blackboard in phonetical transcription,
and explain every symbol as it occurs, at the same time articulating
the corresponding sound _isolated_ (this is of great importance! also
the consonants alone without any vowel, either before or after), and
drawing it out very long.[45]
In not a few cases, the pupils will be able to imitate the sound with
sufficient exactness, when it has been produced isolated; at all
events, they do it far better than when they only hear it among other
sounds. But in many other cases their imitation is not successful,
or, at least, it is not sure enough to be quite satisfactory; then
it is necessary to resort to phonetics for help, on the basis of the
introductory course.
Of course, it is not easy for a Dane to give detailed directions for
phonetical instruction, as it is to be conducted when an English
teacher is teaching English children French or German. Therefore, the
following section is necessarily shorter than the corresponding section
in the Danish original, where I could treat the subject exhaustively
on the basis of my personal experience, as to how good results are
to be obtained. But some few remarks may perhaps serve to point out
the right way, and any teacher who has thoroughly mastered the first
principles of phonetics theoretically, and especially practically, will
himself be able to supplement my suggestions.
In the very first French or German sentence in the reader will probably
be found one of the sounds [y] (Fr. _sur_, Ger. _über_), or [ø] (Fr.
_veut_, Ger. _höhe_). It is best for these two sounds to be practised
together, and, in the beginning, in their long form. As experience
shows, it is not sufficient for the teacher merely to say these sounds;
they generally cause English people much trouble, and all imitations
based on the diphthong in Eng. _few_, etc., ought to be strictly
discountenanced from the very first lesson. That it is not impossible
to learn the correct sounds was brought home to me in a striking manner
a few years ago. These sounds are also found in Danish; an English
lady who had been in Denmark for some years had not been able, in
spite of unceasing efforts, to learn them by imitation. Then I made a
bet that I could teach her them in less than ten minutes, and I won
the bet through five minutes’ theoretical explanation of rounded and
unrounded vowels, and two minutes’ practical exercises. The directions
were about as follows: say [u·] (or [uw]) in _too_ very loudly, and
hold it as long as you can without taking breath. Once more: observe
in the hand-mirror the position of the lips. Then say _tea_ [ti·, tij]
in the same way; draw the vowel out until you can hold it no longer;
continue all the time to observe the position of the lips in the
mirror. Now [u···] again; then [i···]. The lips are rounded for some
vowels, slit-shaped for others. Try to pout them rather more than you
do usually. Pronounce [u···] a couple of times with the lips as rounded
and close to each other as possible, and concentrate your attention
on the lips. Then say [i···] a couple of times, paying attention to
the position of the tongue; you will feel that the sides of the tongue
touch the roof of the mouth or the teeth. Now look in the mirror; say
[i···] again, and now suddenly, taking care to keep the tongue in the
same position, let your lips take the rounded, pouted position they had
before. It may be that the pupil is still unable to produce any [y],
because, despite the teacher’s warning, he involuntarily shifts his
tongue-position back again to the familiar [u] position. In that case,
however, the teacher must not be discouraged, but pass on to the second
part of the experiment, which is surer, and which might therefore have
been taken first: place your lips in this pouted [u] position, without
producing any sound, look in the mirror, and be very careful that the
position of the lips remains unchanged, and then try to say [i···]. If
the tongue is placed in the correct [i···]-position, the result cannot
be anything but an [y]. This sound is retained and repeated until the
pupil is perfectly sure of both the articulation and acoustic effect.
Then the sound [ø] may be taken up. It may be produced with [y] as a
starting-point, the lower jaw being lowered so that both the underlip
and the tongue follow it, while the teacher takes care to stop the
downward movement in the right place. The result may be controlled by
starting with [e] and rounding the lips, that is, by going through a
process corresponding to the transition from [i···] to [y···].
One of the most unbecoming mistakes which Englishmen make in their
pronunciation of foreign languages is their diphthongizing of long
vowels, since long vowels,[46] in ordinary English, are pronounced
with an upward glide, so that the jaw and the tongue are raised higher
in the last part of the vowels in _see_, _two_, _hay_, _know_, for
instance, than in the first part. In vulgar London pronunciation, this
English peculiarity is carried further, the beginning of the sound
being lowered, at all events in the last two sounds mentioned, so that
_lace_ sounds like _lice_, and _pay_ like _pie_. But even if the best
pronunciation does not go to this extreme, yet the glide is there,
and this glide is for the native Frenchman or German one of the most
striking faults in the Englishman’s pronunciation of the respective
languages, so the Englishman had best be on his guard in this
particular. If the teacher, after a little theoretical explanation,
says the English [ei] and the German [e] alternately a number of
times, even the dullest pupils cannot help but get their ears trained
to detect this difference, but long and patient training is certainly
necessary, both with the class in chorus and with the pupils singly,
before this deeply rooted tendency to diphthongize can be checked.
Another difficulty is met with in the short (narrow) vowels. French
_été_ must be pronounced with two short closed e’s; Englishmen have a
tendency to pronounce two long or half-long glide-sounds, which begin
with a greater distance between the jaws than they ought to, and close
with a smaller distance between the jaws than the genuine French sounds
have. Anyone who has become accustomed to the undiphthongized long [e],
however, can use this as a starting-point for learning the correct
short sound, the best way being the frequent repetition of _tétété···_
Likewise the short sounds in _fini_, _dodo_, _froufrou_, etc.
Nor do the French nasal vowels occur in English; in phonetical
transcription, they are indicated by means of ~ over the vowel-symbol,
for instance [ɔ̃] in _son_, etc. Here the teacher must immediately make
every effort to check the tendency to say [ɔŋ] as in Eng. _long_, and
my experience with Danish pupils has been that it is not sufficient for
this purpose merely to let the pupils repeat the sound after me. It is
necessary to make it perfectly clear to them wherein the difference
consists. First the teacher draws out his [ɔ̃] and establishes (by
means of questions) that it is only one sound, the same from first to
last. Then one of the pupils is to try to draw out the sound [ɔŋ], and
it thus becomes clear that it is only the last of the two sounds that
is prolonged. On the basis of what has been previously learned (p.
149), the teacher shows the difference of effect caused in closing the
nostrils with the fingers, and explains that it is due to the fact that
in [ɔŋ] we have first a sound where the air escapes only through the
mouth, then another sound where the air only passes out through the
nose; but in [ɔ̃], both passages are open at the same time. If a pencil
is laid in the mouth so that it rests on the tongue (tolerably far
back), it will remain lying quietly when [ɔ̃] is pronounced, but not
in the case of [ɔŋ]. In connection with [ɔ̃], the pupils may practise
the [ɑ̃] sound in _tant_, [ɛ̃] or, more correctly, [æ̃], the sound in
_teint_ and the rounded sound in [œ̃], _un_. The sound [ɥ] in _tuer_
[tɥe], _lui_ [lɥi] is easily learned with sufficient exactness as a [y]
which is quickly passed over so that the main stress is allowed to fall
on the following sound, the relation between [w] and [u] being brought
in by way of comparison.
With respect to the consonants, care must be taken to pronounce
[t, d, n] in such a way that the point of the tongue touches the
upper teeth; it must, at all events, not be held as far back as in
English; the same applies to [l], where this difference is still more
important; the hollow sound of the English _l_ is also to be avoided
by keeping the whole tongue more flat and not hollowing it out like
a spoon. The voiceless sounds [r̥] and [l̥] in [fənɛ·tr̥] _fenêtre_
and [tabl̥] _table_ can easily be deduced from what has been learned
about the voice (p. 150-151); it is necessary to guard against making
[r̥] into the vowel found at the end of English words like _mister_,
etc. The pupils will easily understand that with the correct unvoiced
pronunciation, these sounds are apt to disappear in rapid speech.
Finally we take up the sound ɲ in [kãpaɲ] _campagne_; it is explained
as lying between [nj] and [ŋ]; it is best pronounced with the point
of the tongue resting in the lower part of the mouth behind the lower
teeth, but in using the word “best” I intend to hint that it is not
strictly necessary to require this method of formation; there are also
Frenchmen who (at all events before a vowel) pronounce it like English
[nj] in _onion_.
With respect to [p, t, k], it is well known that in French they have
not the aspiration that they have in English; since the difference is
not so great, however, the English sounds may perhaps be used unchanged
in the beginning. Then if one of the pupils notices the difference,
which he perhaps will express by saying that the teacher pronounces
[b] when there stands [p] in the book, or possibly by merely trying
to imitate the teacher’s sound by means of his own English [b], his
attention may be called to the little breath which there always is
between the opening of the English [p] and the vowel itself; this is
not found in French, where the vowel after [p, t, k] comes exactly at
the same moment as the opening takes place (either by the lips or the
tongue), and therefore they sound to us like [b, d, g] (_capitaine_ as
if it were gabidɛn). Try a [p] without a vowel after it, first with a
strong breath (somewhat like when you pooh-pooh something, but without
any voice), then without any breath like a man puffing at his pipe
(about the same sound as when soap bubbles burst); and then try to
place a vowel after it[47]; it must come immediately, just as quickly
as the movements of a soldier after the drill-master’s command. Then
[t] and [k] may be taken up in the same manner.
The French division into syllables (_il a_ =i | la, _chaque écolier_
= ʃa | ke | kɔ | lje, | etc.) is best learned by pure imitation,
likewise the distribution of stress (accent); by reciting or reading
connectedly to the pupils and by always requiring them to say _the
whole sentence together without any pause_, the teacher can counteract
their tendency to pronounce each word separately in that monotone which
is intolerable. Thus _il a été ici_ is said all together in one with
the vowels gliding over into each other, _a + é_ sounding somewhat
similar to [ai] in _lie_, and _é + i_ to [ei] in _lay_.
German sounds are somewhat easier for Englishmen than French sounds,
but yet there are several points to be noticed. In the case of some
sounds, any skilled teacher will be able to follow the suggestions
given for French, mutatis mutandis; in the case of others, like the
two _ch-_ sounds, he must in an analogous manner adapt his theoretical
knowledge in phonetics to the practical needs of teaching.
Some people have found it inconsistent that I have no partiality
for didactic theorizing in questions of grammar, but myself employ
theoretical explanations in questions of phonetics. The explanation is
not far to seek. Theoretical grammar, as it is generally studied, is
more abstract, it is difficult, it is very comprehensive, and still it
does not lead to the desired goal, which is grammatical correctness;
the theory of sound which we want introduced is more concrete and it is
easy, it is more limited, and it actually leads to the desired goal,
which is a good pronunciation. This last assertion is proved by the
experiences of numerous teachers in various lands.
Of late years, it has become more and more usual in schools to use a
sound-chart in connection with the instruction in languages. On this
chart, all the sounds of the language which is being studied are
arranged in systematic order, and are indicated with such large letters
that they can be seen by the whole class; various finesses are often
used, as for instance to give the voiced and voiceless sounds different
colours.[48] I myself have not used this contrivance, but I have heard
from several foreign teachers, and now from a couple of Danish teachers
too, that they are very well satisfied with it. The teacher points to
a letter and gets either the whole class or one of the pupils to say
the corresponding sound; or the teacher may let A mention some sound
or other, and B, who is standing at the blackboard, shows that he has
caught it by repeating it and at the same time pointing at the symbol;
or if C makes a mistake in the pronunciation of a word which he is
reading (or saying) D is to point, first to the symbol for the wrong
sound, and then to the right one, etc. In this way, much writing on the
blackboard, which would otherwise be necessary, is saved; and besides,
it may be of great benefit for the pupils always to have all the sounds
in a connected system before their eyes (even if the teacher of course
never intends to examine them in the whole phonetical system of the
language as such).
The _elements of phonetical transcription_ are learned, as we have
seen, together with the corresponding sounds themselves. Now what is
the use of the phonetical transcription itself? It seems to be commonly
supposed that its votaries claim by its help to have “given the pupils
a better comprehension of the single sounds and to have taught them
more easily to produce them;” its opponents attack this assertion and
strike it down with true Quixotic zeal without stopping to think that
it has never been set up by the advocates of phonetical transcription
at all. These advocates themselves know as well as anyone what is but
natural, namely, that a boy does not of his own accord pronounce a
French nasal correctly merely because he has been shown the symbol
[ɔ̃]. The pronunciation of the single sounds must be learned in other
ways, as has been shown above, and for that purpose alone, all writing
could very well be entirely dispensed with without resulting in any
essential change in the character of the instruction. When, however, we
use phonetical transcription already at the first stage, it is partly
on account of the excellent help which it will afford later for quite
a different purpose, which I shall come to immediately, partly because
it really is of some _help_ in the teaching of the sound-formation
proper. It saves the teacher a great deal of repetition, since instead
of always saying the sound himself, he can point to the symbol and
get one of the clever pupils to say it for the others; it makes the
pupils see more clearly how many different sounds there are for them
to pay attention to (while in exclusively oral instruction, perhaps
one pupil will be inclined to hear [ɑ̃] and [ɛ̃] as one sound, another
pupil, [ɑ̃] and [ɔ̃] as one sound); finally, the homogeneousness of the
symbols will help the pupils more easily to comprehend the nature of
the sounds themselves; when they have learned to pronounce [ɔ̃], they
will get the run of all the other nasal vowels more quickly when they
see the same flourish over them all; the double parallelism in the
four symbols
s ʃ
z ʒ
will aid them in learning the corresponding relations between the
sounds themselves.
However, in order to understand the greatest and the proper value of
phonetical transcription, it is necessary to have well in mind the
fact that there are two essentially different kinds of mistakes in
pronunciation--