The Principles of Language-Study

by Harold E. Palmer

Another case. Six lessons are given. Each lesson is divided into six periods of ten minutes. Each period is devoted to a different type of mechanical work or drill-work. The net result is six moderately interesting lessons.

Not that any lesson should consist exclusively of drill-work or mechanical work; there is a place in every lesson for listening to the living language in actual use; there is a place in every lesson for interesting explanations and for the factor of human interest, for the use of devices which usually engage the keenest attention of the students. If, however, there are forms of work which generally appear less popular or less vivacious, if the repeating of word-lists and the reciting of groups of sentences do tend towards dullness, then we can compensate for this temporary lack of vivacity by introducing an extra dose of variety.

A change of work is in itself a factor of interest even if the work should not be particularly interesting; variety will relieve any tedium which may possibly be associated with mechanical work. Let us suppose that on one or more occasions we do find it necessary for some particular purpose to introduce an unpopular form of exercise; we can sandwich that exercise between two popular forms of work, and the evil ten minutes will pass unnoticed.

This point will be treated incidentally when we come to examine principle 9 (the multiple line of approach); we shall see what bearing this theory has on the question of variety and the interest engendered thereby.

CHAPTER XIV
A RATIONAL ORDER OF PROGRESSION

One of the greatest differences between the old-fashioned manner of teaching languages and the new manner towards which we are feeling our way is a difference in what we call ‘order of progression.’ This term and the principle which is involved therein cannot, at the present stage of our knowledge, be defined in very categoric terms; its connotation is somewhat loose, for it may be applied to the general programme of study and also to any particular item of study. In some ways the principle seems to have a close connexion with gradation, and yet on the whole it appears to cover other ground, for we can imagine entirely different orders of progression, and each may be well or badly graded.

Under this particular heading we have to consider the order in which the various aspects and branches of a language may be dealt with. We may conceivably work from the written to the spoken or vice versa; we may start with systematic ear-training and articulation exercises or leave these to a later stage; we may advise or we may reject the use of a phonetic alphabet; we may teach or we may leave intonation; we may proceed from the word towards the sentence or we may take the sentence as our starting-point; we may exclude irregularities during the early stages or we may include them; we may insist on a slow and distinct pronunciation at the outset and leave abbreviations and shortened forms to a later stage. In all these matters, and in other cases as well, we have to consider very seriously two alternatives; we have to weigh the respective advantages and disadvantages, remembering always that our object is to secure rapid but permanent progress. Each of the pairs of alternatives enumerated above has been and still is the subject of discussion and controversy; there is much to be said on both sides, and an argument in favour of the one side may seem conclusive—until we have heard the argument for the other. Let us examine each of the points we have mentioned and place the opposing views in parallel columns; for the sake of convenience we will in each case place the arguments of the older school on the left-hand side and the modern answer on the right.

Written or spoken first?

The most stable form of speech is written speech; it does not vary from one person to another or from one region to another as spoken language always does. In the written form we find the essence of a language and its treasure-house. Spoken language is a faint and attenuated counterpart, generally more or less debased and altered by slang, dialect, and slovenly habits of utterance.	The only true form of speech is spoken speech; it constitutes the living language itself. All languages were spoken long before they were written. Orthographies are comparatively recent inventions, and have no more claim to being the essence of language than shorthand. The written aspect of language is artificial; the spoken aspect alone is pursuing the normal course of evolution, and is always freeing itself from archaic and useless encumbrances. The spoken language is a token of life, for dead languages are those which exist but in written form.
An unwritten language is almost a contradiction in terms, for a language without a literature is but a barbarous jargon, primitive in its structure, weak in vocabulary and in means of expression.	The facts are all wrong. Most, if not all, unwritten languages so far investigated prove to be of a remarkable richness. The Bantu group, to quote one example, has an inflexional system rivalling and excelling those of Latin and Greek, and possesses wonderfully rich syntactical and semantic systems.
When a child goes to school, he starts learning his language on its written basis. He starts at the A B C.	In the meantime he has already become an expert user of the spoken language, including the complete phonetic system unconsidered in written speech and a most complex and beautiful system of intonation unknown to orthographies.
Grammar only exists in written language.	If the grammar of the written language only exists in the written language, the grammar of the spoken language only exists in the spoken language.
It is easier to learn a written word than a spoken word, for the written word remains before the eyes, whereas the spoken word is intangible and evanescent.	Consequently if we learn the written word we are unable to understand what is said to us and to express ourselves orally.
It is easy to convert eye-knowledge into ear-knowledge. Once we know how a word is written we easily learn how to pronounce it.	The facts are all wrong again. The most difficult thing in language-study is to convert eye-knowledge into ear-knowledge. Once we know how a word is pronounced we can recognize and reproduce its written form with the greatest ease.