The misunderstanding was natural enough; logicians would quote it as an example of the fallacy of the False Cause. The process of grammatical construction was carried out by means of a vicious form of translation exercise, and the result was utterly bad. Two important reforms might have been effected: in the first place, the vicious form of translation might have been replaced by a beneficial form; and secondly, new and more worthy uses of translation might have been found. But the act of translation itself (nay, the mere use of the mother-tongue) was made the scapegoat and so paid the penalty. It is now time for a second band of reformers to attack and to destroy the original cause of unsuccessful language-study, viz. grammatical construction, or at any rate to limit it to special cases and to appropriate occasions. It is time, too, to rehabilitate in some measure the character of the comparatively innocent process of translation, and to remove the stigma attached to those who still use the mother-tongue as a vehicular language, and by so doing proceed naturally enough from the known to the unknown.

These are no reactionary suggestions; they are made in the spirit of the nine essential principles treated in the previous chapters, and are not in contradiction to the urgent plea set forth in these pages for the recognition and fostering of our ‘spontaneous’ capacities for language-study. We can afford to ignore no necessary tool in our efforts to teach well and to produce perfect results, and translation is often a necessary tool, especially during the process of deriving constructed from memorized matter.

We suggest for the moment no tenth principle based on these considerations; we submit the problem and we more than hint at a solution. It is now time for experimental work on ‘ergonic’ lines, and the data to be obtained thereby will enable us to form our conclusions and to embody them among the principles of language-study.

INDEX

FOOTNOTES

[1] It will be preferable for these to be ‘nonsense words,’ that is to say, artificial words with no meaning, for if real known words are articulated to us we may possibly write down not the sounds that we really hear but some sort of ingenious phonetic transliteration of the orthographic form of the word.

[2] Victor Egger, La Parole intérieure: “Souvent ce que nous appelons entendre comprend un commencement d’articulation silencieuse, des mouvements faibles, ébauchés, dans l’appareil vocal” (Ribot).

[3] A typical example has just been noticed by the writer: a Dutch student’s pronunciation of ‘know it’ was almost unintelligible, but when advised to replace this rendering by the Dutch word nooit he produced a very close approximation to the English pronunciation.