| | | | We shall say nothing of the utility of studying languages: the | practical necessity presses on too many. Hence there is never | like to be a lack of students in this department; hence there has | always been also a plentiful supply of solemn, pedagogic | drill-masters on the one hand, and loose rattling quacks on the | other, to Ciceronize the traveller in the several provinces of so | wide a kingdom. The present writer, though no professed | linguist, having, from particular circumstances, had no small | traffic with various famous languages, both ancient and | modern, has bethought himself that he may possible do a | small service to some honest student in some corner, ~~ | perhaps even furnish the educational Reformer with some | useful hint, ~~ by setting down shortly in print what he | considers to be the most sure and easy methods of overcoming | the difficulties commonly encountered in linguistical study. | For, truly, if in any department of intellectual activity a few | encouraging words at the outset of the expedition are | profitable, they are necessary here; it being plain to a skilful | observer in these matters, that, while of those who begin to | study languages and end where they began, the one half stop | because they never had any serious intention of going on, the | other half have been driven back from the lack, not so much | of an earnest purpose, as of a healthy confidence; both | imagining many fearful difficulties which never existed, and | stumbling confusedly upon those which do exist, without | either a pioneer to prepare their path, or a general to lead their | progress. | Now, in order to see our way clearly through the manifold | perplexities and perversities of this path ~~ (simple enough, | however, all the while, if people would only train themselves | to take their knowledge direct from Nature, leave big | blundering books upon their shelves, and look at pompous | prejudice without its stilts) ~~ the first thing to be done is to | set clearly down, and consistently hold fast this proposition, | that ~~ The study of a language is not the | study of a science, but the study of an art; and that it must | accordingly be prosecuted, not by the method of abstract | principles, but by the assiduous exercise of familiar practices. | Manifest as the proposition appears, it is one against | which all teachers, especially the scholastic teachers of the | ancient languages, have been very apt to offend. It is | necessary, therefore, to fix it clearly in the mind, before we | proceed to deduce the practical rules for the conduct of study, | in which it is fruitful. No doubt there is a Science of language | ~~ and that a very grand and very profound one ~~ so, at | least, as Humboldt, and other continental scholars, have | recently prosecuted it on a large scale. There is also a science | of each individual language, as there is an anatomy of each | individual man: but you must have the man before you can | anatomise him; and you must know | the language (vulgarly speaking) before you can make a | science of it. What people would have when they set | themselves to learn a language, is not the minute knowledge | of all the nerves and sinews, all the bones and processes of | bones, joints, and ligatures of the vocal frame-work, ~~ much | less the pretenceful and often barbarous jargon wherewith | scientific men are wont to designate the same; but what they | desire is to create in their minds the familiar association and | close concatenation of a certain system of ideas, old and new, | with a certain system of new sounds; and this achievement is | an art, and to be attained mainly by practice, just as a man | learns to cobble a shoe, to play a pipe, or to turn a rhyme | dexterously. We shall take this, therefore, for granted ~~ The | knowledge of a language is the acquirement of an art to be | maintained mainly by practice. ~~ Mainly, we say, but not | exclusively; for, no doubt, a professor of anatomy may teach a | fair woman a fine carriage as well on osteological principles, | as a drill-sergeant can by military practice. Science, indeed, | id, in all matters, the perfecter of practice: but as many famous | actors have trod the stage properly without having been | minutely instructed in the machinery of the tibial and femoral | bone; so many an eloquent mouth has learnt to speak | powerfully in divers languages without any aid from grammar | or syntax rules, and without the help of any dictionary also, | perhaps, other than that which Don Juan had when he learned | Greek from Hiadee. A living dictionary, indeed, is always the | best; and a grammar may always be dispensed with. For a | grammar is, as we have said, neither more nor less than the | anatomy of the thing; and as there is no question but you can | walk, run, leap, dance, march, fight, and beat Napoleon, | without anatomy, so you can as certainly learn a language | without a grammar; and their own language, in fact, most | people do so learn, and many who both speak and write very | properly. But with regard to foreign languages, and especially | the dead languages, a notion has prevailed that a portentous | preparatory scaffolding of grammar is absolutely necessary | towards any solid and lasting superstructure; a notion | altogether false, and in practice most pernicious. Grammar is | not useless to a student of language; nay, it is very useful | when wisely used: but as mere mineralogical descriptions | without minerals, can never teach a man mineralogy; so a | system of rules about words, ~~ without a | previous stock of words to which these rules may be | applied, ~~ can never teach a man language. In all practical | arts, while to evolve principles from the facts as the facts | gradually become known, is natural and pleasant, ~~ to learn | the principles without the facts is unnatural and hard: | unnatural, because these principles have no real existence | independent of the facts or matter with which they are in | living nature embodied and interwoven; hard, because every | unnatural application of the mind is hard and harsh, as many a | grammar-school boy can testify. | Languages are to be learned mainly by practice. ~~ | | This principle being fixed, the next step is to ascertain what is | the practice of Nature in the matter. How do little children | learn languages? By what mystery do the innocent lips that at | first found enough ado to suck as healthy children ought, learn | to articulate Mamma and Papa, and to apply certainly these | full-lipped and broad-throated vocal enunciations, to certain | familiar and fixed persons of a pleasing aspect, by whose | presence they are daily and hourly environed? | it is a very | simple matter; but a matter, like all the great primal truths of | existence, the neglect of which, in the study of languages, has | puzzled many a hopeful scholar, and perplexed many a | famous pedagogue. It is by the continual | and persevering repetition of a certain sound, in plain, | palpable, and direct connexion with a certain known and | familiar object, that a child learns both to understand first one | word of a language and then another when spoken, and to | speak them with understanding. These two processes in | the art of learning a language are cotemporaneous on the part | of the child; first, the continual hearing of a certain sound | pronounced in connexion with a certain known object; and | then the continual imitation or echoing of that sound, in | self-perfecting phrase, by its own organ. The same process may be | observed in persons of advanced years; as when a young | midshipman enters a ship, he learns the slang or peculiar | language of the sailors by hearing it continually repeated, and | continually echoing what he hears; so a student at the | University learns the University slang; and a student of | theology the theological slang, Puseyite or Presbyterian as the | chance may be; so a lawyer learns the legal slang, which is | very bad; a newsmonger the newspaper slang, which is worse; | and a writer in critical Reviews the critical slang, which is the | worst of all. By the institution of Nature, therefore, it appears, | that to learn a language easily and profitably, a person must be | put into an echo-chamber, so to speak, of constantly repeated | sounds, and remain in that atmosphere for a certain | considerable period, more or less according to his capacity of | perception and imitation, till these sounds, in connexion with | the things of which they are the symbols, have become a | habitual and customary part of his associations; and every | artificial or imitative system of teaching languages must be | good or bad, according as its machinery approaches to or | recedes from this original norm which Nature has set up. | These principles being premised, we may proceed to state, in | detail, the practical rules of teaching which they necessarily | beget. ~~ | In the first place, then, one thing is plain, that if we would | follow the method of Nature in her practice, we must begin | our study of a language at a point where many people think | we ought to end, and whereto many great linguists never | attain, ~~ that is to say, with talking it ~~ and talking just as | children do when they begin to speak, first one word and then | another, not grammatically at all, but blundering straight on, | not without frequent tripping and stumbling, as we best can, | and helping ourselves with signs to complement the | deficiency that will for some time characterize our | vocabulary. Many persons, especially those who have been | accustomed to move only with much labour where the | grammar has made a trigonometrical survey before them, will | not understand this precipitous procedure, and will, wisely as | they deem, be afraid to venture a step on such a head-long | path, for fear of breaking their shins; but it is, nevertheless, | both the surest and the speediest way, and the way commonly | practised by all who learn language as it is naturally learned | from living masters and among living men ~~ not from dead | grammars and dusty dictionaries. Get, | therefore, someone to | talk with ~~ a native, or at least a person naturalized in the | country ~~ and make him tell you the names of all the | common things you see, and give you a small capital to begin | with, of the most common and necessary phrases of everyday | life ~~ as for instance, (supposing you are studying German,) | ~~ wine; | ~~ water; ~~ a | glass; gibe ~~ give. | ~~ give me a | glass of wine. These phrases repeat as often as you possibly | can, holding imaginary conversations where real ones fail ~~ | just as children are taught to say mamma | and papa twenty times a day or | more, till they are perfect ~~ and in the course of a few weeks | you will find you have made astonishing progress in the art of | conversing, on common subjects, in the strange tongue. And | this too, be borne in mind, even though you are as rude of | letters in all respects, and as ignorant of books as a mere child; | for it is by the ear that language properly comes, and not by | the eye; as the example of many a Betty or Sarah who has | gone to Carlsbad or Baden, with master and mistress, | | sufficiently shows. For, while masters and mistress hear | nothing but French and English from the fashionable society | that frequent the baths and return from their German tour as | guiltless of a Teutonic guttural as the most native cockney of | Cockaigne, Betty, on the other hand, has heard the native | dialect from the mouths of native grooms and chambermaids, | and has, with very little perceptible trouble, in three months, | acquired a more practical command of a language of which | she knows not a single printed letter, than many a famous | scholar has done by solitary study in three years. So easy and | profitable always is it to follow the plan of Nature in all our | proceedings. But what shall honest people do, who are not | servants to great travelling lords and ladies, and who have no | pence to carry them to Hamburg, or Berlin? A young | merchant, for instance, living in Liverpool or Dundee, and | ambitious to acquire the dialects of the Teuts. We say what we | said before, let him get a person and talk with him ~~ and let | him get a good phrase-book to save his master, or his foreign | friend, trouble, and to enrich the vocabulary. This, you | perceive, is a step beyond that simple plan of Nature in | teaching children, which we sketched: for here we have got | not only talking men to imitate, but written books, not spoken | sounds merely, but visible sounds ~~ so miraculous and | sense-transmuting is the wit of man; ~~ as by | | a similar transmuting power we have now at length got | tangible sounds also, and bibles which the blind man literally | reads! ~~ But still books or visible sounds, wonderful as they | are, and like seeds which bear increase a hundred-fold to the | sower, are yet only of secondary use in the acquirement of | language, and can never render the hearing ear, and the | speaking tongue dispensable; much less can they pretend to | stand alone. A man may, by the help of books, learn a | language well enough, in a fashion, to the effect of reading | written books; but not to the effect of knowing, in its vital | fullness, in its blood, bone, muscle, and play of healthy | colour, any language that has a life in it. A dead language, | accordingly, learned only from books, can never be | thoroughly learned. A living master, | therefore, by the natural method of teaching languages, we | hold to be indispensable; and to masters, accordingly, most | people betake themselves. It is only lamentable to see how, | from vain self-sufficiency on the one hand, and our want of | normal schools on the other, so many people undertake to | instruct youth in the elements of strange tongues, who are | utterly unable to do that for which a master is in the first | place, and the second place, and the in the third place | desirable ~~ namely, to talk | the language. For a good master of | languages ought daily, and hourly if possible, to be to his | pupils that which papa and mamma are to the child, when they | are supplying it with its first and most indispensable stock of | enunciated ideas. And this remark applies not merely to | teachers of the living languages ~~ in whom inability to talk | the tongue they profess is less excusable and less common ~~ | but in an especial manner to teachers of what are, or are | called, the dead languages. The time | was ~~ scarce one hundred years ago, we guess, in this | country ~~ when the Latin language was taught in the natural | and proper way, by talking and discoursing as well as by | reading; and to the present day it is so taught, we believe, in | well-ordered Catholic colleges. But for the most part, in this | nineteenth century, Latin, and Greek also (which latter is | certainly anything but a dead language) are taught in a most | painful and perverse manner, by grammars and dictionaries | and books only, to the utter neglect of the natural method; | according to which, as we have shown, the knowledge of | language comes by the ear, not by the eye. No wonder, | therefore, that with such mighty preparation, and blowing of | classical trumpets, we produce such insignificantly small | results. They labour for ten years, in England, to produce a | Greek scholar; and when, out of every fifty seedlings, they | succeed in rearing one of some respectable altitude, they | present you with a creature who, that he may be able curiously | to nibble at the shell of the past, has altogether disused his | natural stomach to digest the substantial kernel of the present; | and who, with that superstitious prostration of soul which | characterizes the student of the mere letter, finds nothing | better to do with his Greek, when he has it, than, out of the | fond drivel of some doting old father, to plaster up a bastard | Christianity of priestly pedigrees ~~ a sweet-smelling savour | in the nostrils of modern bishops. Now this, we say, is a pitiful | result; but it is just such a result as might have been expected | from the pedantic system of which it is the off-spring. If a | sensible man wants good Greek, let him go to Athens for it, | and not to Oxford. Let him make acquaintance there with | intelligent natives, read native newspapers, and hear native | talk of all kinds daily and hourly. We pledge ourselves to the | result. With tolerable application, he will make a better Greek | scholar, by this natural method, in ten months, (and at a less | expense too,) than the scholastic method of grammars and | dictionaries, practised in our British schools and universities, | will make him in ten years. The fact is, Greek is not worth the | pains at present bestowed upon it, when studies scholastically | and as a dead language. If a man cannot go to Athens for his | Greek, in the way we suggest, or bring over an intelligent | native to this country to talk with, (which, we guess, he could | do at a much less expense than an English university | education entails,) then, unless some strong practical necessity | presses him, we say, he had better let Greek alone. One may | be a very good Christian, and a very wise philosopher, without | breaking his shins obliquely over a Dochmiac strophe in | Aeschylus, or knowing any more about Homer than what he | can learn faithfully from Cowper of John Henry Voss. | The idea of learning Greek and Latin in the natural way, by | talking them, and by frequent oral discourses, will no doubt | appear preposterous to some in principle, and to many, who | may agree with the principle, in practice impossible. With the | first set of objectors we shall not argue, but leave them to | settle the matter for themselves with that all wise system of | Nature against whose established rule they rebel. To the | second set of objectors we say, that so long as there are no | normal schools for language-masters in this country, and | nothing has been done to train the great part of our classical | scholars to any practical dexterity in the natural system of | teaching what are called the dead languages ~~ so long it is | not lawful for a man, with muscle in his arm, to talk of | impossibilities. For ourselves, we believe most firmly, that | with masters trained to speak Greek and Latin fluently in a | well organised normal school, our young men would learn a | practical command of these languages in six months, such as | they now seldom attain in six years. And this, above all things, | we insist on, that GREEK IS A LIVING AND NOT A DEAD | LANGUAGE; and that to acquire it with the lumbering | laboriosity of dead grammars and dictionaries only, according | to the present practice, is a procedure more perverse in | principle, and more pernicious in practical results, than | anything that the records of pedagogy exhibit. As to Latin, if | you call that a dead language, you | speak certainly with more propriety than when you apply that | designation to the language of Homer and Corai, which are | one; but, philosophically speaking, Latin is not a dead | language in the same sense that old Phoenician language and | the old Etruscan are dead languages; for these languages, were | they known to us now as well as Latin and Greek are, would | be languages which, in the history of the | | world, had undergone a total practical | extinction; whereas Latin was at no time altogether | extinct in history, but remained in practical activity for | ecclesiastical, and for public and scientific purposes, | contemporaneously with the other languages, commonly | called the languages of Modern Europe, which gradually | superseded it for popular purposes. Latin became a dead | language only the other day in Hungary, when the National | Diet passed an act, allowing the Magyar to be used for | parliamentary purposes; and in the church of Rome, Latin has | always lived, and lives at the present hour certainly, and will | live unquestionably in no dry old age, as long as the Pope | lives, and the Puseyites. What hinders us, then, to teach Latin | to-day, in as fluent, vigorous, and practical a style, as they did | in the days of George Buchanan and Hugo Grotius? ~~ | Nothing but bookish pedantry, we say, and slothful prejudice, | and that which hinders all grand educational progress in this | country ~~ Want of soul, and Want of System. Our system of | classical education, altogether, is like an old watch that has | been allowed to go nine minutes slow every day, and an hour | every week, and more than two days at the end of the year, | and at the end of ten years more than twenty days, and so on; | till, after a century is past, the conservative old time-seller is | months behind the date. In proportion as the facilities of | learning Latin in a natural manner, without the walls of | schools and colleges, decreased, the machinery within should | have increased, both in intensity of power and in wise | application of that power; but the professors, and the tutors, | and the schoolmasters, were no miracle-workers; and there | being no normal schools, such as were absolutely necessary to | set the thing in a proper train, the fluent and ready use of the | Latin tongue, even within the walls of universities, and in the | lecture-rooms of professed teachers of that language, was lost. | No attempt was made to institute, much less to maintain, in | vigorous and healthy action, a familiar Echo-Chamber of | learned sounds, such as the natural system points out; and | boys were set, and are set, in solitary | corners, with grammar and dictionary in hand, painfully to | feel and finger their way through classical darkness by erudite | commentary made visible; and there they sit with most | commendable diligence certainly ~~ (poor fellows!) ~~ | through much tribulation of pen, ink, and paper, tallow | candles and blinking eyes, acquiring to themselves the name | of scholars with the small solatium of bursaries and | fellowships glimmering indistinctly in the distance. No | wonder that out of twenty hopeful youths that set out on this | classical progress, nineteen stick fast for a while in the slough | of despond, and then make their best way back again, from | Caesar and Cicero to the profane and pleasant paths of the | circulating library and the last new novel. No wonder that | learning is hated in this country, and classicality odious, when | you give an ingenuous youth literally stones to eat for bread; | and, tying his feet up in a pair of scholastic skates, send him | off pitifully to hash his way through snow and slush, while the | Queen's highway is at hand, and one may walk to better | purpose there with a pair of common shoes. Oh, that Milton | would stand up now from the grave, and preach loudly against | these things, as he did two hundred years ago! | The perversity of the present system of teaching the dead | languages ~~ by the eye only, that is to say, and not by the ear | ~~ will be made more abundantly manifest by an example | from the detail of modern practice. The reader knows that one | main characteristic of these languages, as distinguished from | the modern, lies in the intimate connexion in which they stand | to music; insomuch that, while the most sublime and solemn | passages in Shakespeare must, according to the laws of | English speech, be pronounced with something of the rapid | run which belongs to familiar colloquy, the most common and | conversational parts of Aeschylus have something in them of | that measured and stately character which belongs to the | highest genus of cathedral chant. In other words, the quantity | of syllables as long or short, and the structure of poetical | rhythm in strict and marked accordance therewith, is a main | matter in ancient poetry; in modern poetry only secondary. ~~ | Now, what follows from this as a necessary difference in the | methods of teaching the ancient and modern languages? | Plainly this ~~ that if it would mar the effect of many a good | verse and many a good rhyme to teach an English boy to | pronounce praise short, as if it were | written press, it must substantially | annihilate the rhythmical principle on which all ancient poetry | is constructed, if we allow a boy to say | or | | instead of | which is unquestionably the true | pronunciation of the Latin | the accent being on the | first syllable, but the quantitative extension on the second, as | in the English word umpire. | Nevertheless, the classical masters of this country (many of | them at least) teach Latin in this way, making no perceptible | difference of pronunciation between | ~~ of a sheep, | ~~ and | with eggs, ~~ though the one has the | quantity of two quavers, and the other that of two crotchets. | But the absurdity does not stop here; this rather is merely a | bad habit: the perversity is yet to be mentioned. Will it be | believed? ~~ after allowing the ear to educate itself altogether | to a false habit, (for the English analogy will almost | universally lead to a mispronunciation of Latin,) they force the | eye and the understanding by a system of painfully barbarous | grammar rules, to take up the right habit; and thus, instead of | helping the one sense to assist the other, (as the Greeks did so | admirably when they invented a different character for the | long O) they set the eye to undo daily what the ear is daily, | and hourly, and yearly dong; and after fighting this most | unnatural of all battles stoutly for several years, the combatant | becomes a learned Prosodian! Was anything so monstrous | ever heard? Every boy hates Prosody; and, in hating it | heartily, shows a great deal more sense than his master does in | teaching it. For the pronunciation of a language is not to be | learned by dry abstract rules, but by the living habit of sound; | and it is one of the main uses of a master of language to watch | narrowly, and never to allow a false pronunciation | | once made to be repeated, and thus grow up into a practice | which it will be difficult to unlearn. Where the pronunciation | of a language can be reduced to rules, it is a profitable thing, | certainly, for the teacher to make a system of such rules; but it | is most impertinent in him to give these merely written rules | to the learner, instead of his own living example, which ought | to be much more vivid and effectual; and which, if he knows | his tread, will, in fact, be sufficient of itself to form the ear of | the common scholar, leaving the whole cumbrous lore of the | Prosodians from Hephaestion down to the last edition of | Carey, as a matter of occasional reference merely to the | classical laity, and of curious and recondite study to the | academical clergy. Most certain it is, that as our best English | speakers are often those who have made the least use of | Walker, who have acquired a correct pronunciation, by | practice merely, ~~ so Prosody, which is now the most | difficult, might be made the most easy department of | scholarship, if the classical master would merely act upon that | simplest proposition with which we set out ~~ | namely, that the | learning of a language is an art to be acquired by the training | of the ear, not a science to be understood by the indoctrination | of the understanding. | So much for the ancient languages. We shall now make some | remarks on the conduct of linguistical study, with a view to | show how the general system which we have pointed out may | be best carried out in practical detail. First then, it is clear, that | pronunciation is a leading thing in the natural method of | acquiring languages; and that, accordingly, if a fellow goes | through the country with sounding advertisements and letters | of recommendation, boasting to give a complete course of | German instruction in six lessons, that man is a quack. He | may, indeed, in six lessons, or in three, if he please, raise up a | complete scaffolding of the principal abstract schemes and | rules of grammar: but practically he will do almost nothing; | for in attending to rules, neither he nor his scholars will have | any leisure left for that continuous and long continued | practice, by which alone the living sounds of language can be | made familiar to the ear. Let the teacher, therefore, on the very | first day, commence reading before his scholars, and teaching | them even the shape and power of the letters of the alphabet | by living example; for he is not | entitled (as is too often done) to throw all the labour off his | own shoulders, and say at once to the scholar, "Go to your | grammar, at such and such a page, and get such and such a | rule by heart, and then come and repeat it to me." The master | must act, in the first place, exegetically as a living, speaking, | and incarnated grammar; and the scholar must not be | discouraged in the outset, by being sent into a corner to learn | from a dumb book in an abstract shape, what it is the very | proper business of the master to present to him in the totality | of its living completeness, and clad with all the freshness of its | natural hues. The master must speak and read from the very | first ~~ and not only so, but because what he speaks and reads | (beginning, of course, with the most short, easy, and familiar | sentences) to be got by heart on the spot, and boldly re-echoed | back by his scholars, ~~ so that they shall learn the art of | using the language in some measure the | very first day; even before they are | perfectly familiar with the written characters, if these be | different from those used in their native tongue. We say the | scholar must be taught boldly and without hesitation to echo | back on the spot what he hears; for if | he does not begin at first with a certain broad, bold, | blundering confidence, he may twirl grammar rules about his | fingers for months, and make no satisfactory progress. Mark | well the words ~~ a broad, bold, blundering | confidence. Blundering; for in the urgent practical | movements of the human being, the man who begins with | being too proud to stumble, will end in being too stiff to | move. And this is a point on which we insist with peculiar | emphasis ~~ from having found in practice no greater | impediment to the speedy acquirement of a foreign language, | than that want of confidence, which may be nervousness or an | ingenuous timidity in many cases; but in as many, certainly, is | only a specious name for pride. You will not begin by | speaking the language, because you are afraid of making a | blunder, and committing an unpardonable sin against some | solemn grammar rule, with whose requirements you are not | yet acquainted. And then you are afraid some skilful person | may laugh at your incompetency. Pshaw! ~~ Who expects you | to march like an old Roman senator, when you are only | learning to stand, and must help yourself by creeping? And if | impudent people will laugh at you, learn you to laugh at them | again. It is one of the most useful and necessary lessons of | life. It is, in fact, with the element of speech, as with that of | water; not weight, but fear, sinks the swimmer. Blunder on, | therefore, we repeat it, with a broad confidence; and learn to | stand as the child does practically, by learning not to fall. And | to encourage your early attempts, we would prescribe an | exercise from the first, in which you cannot possibly blunder. | Let your master read to you every day some pretty rhyme or | other, containing a striking image, a beautiful sentiment, or a | profound thought; and let him, at the same time, tell you the | meaning of the whole and of every word: then repeat it | yourself after him, once and again, till you have perfectly | mastered its pronunciation and cadence. Then get the stanza | by heart to-day, and repeat it to-morrow, reciting it with as | much fullness of tone and propriety of emphasis as you can | manage. And so on for six months at least without remission; | for without great and continuous labour Jove gave nothing to | mortals, least of all, the knowledge of languages. | But where have we left the grammar ad the dictionary all this | while? Are we really so insane aw to dream that doctor or | disciple can get on without them? Or are we, perhaps, | Hamiltonian in our notions, and would advise the use of an | interlinear translation. No; ~~ neither Hamiltonian nor | Oxonian, nor any other name of the pedantic or empirical | extreme, which, with one half of a great truth, runs away and | rides to the devil, while the | | other half is left behind, like the poor Samaritan, where no | Pharisee will help it, in the ditch. Honour be to all makers of | grammars and dictionaries, (the most laborious species of | much-labouring men,) if they would only make the one in | some cases more concise, and the other in all cases more | complete! Let us state, therefore, shortly here, how the master | and scholar are to use them. Now, in regard to these great | implements of language-learning it will be evident, from the | scope of the preceding remarks, that we consider the two great | practical blunders in the use of them to be, FIRST, the | substitution of these dead repositories altogether, as of | primary importance, into the place of that of which they are | merely the imperfect and stereotyped echo; and SECOND, the | sending the unaided pupil to grope and grabble his way by the | help of them only, at a period of his progress when he can use | them but with small profit and much tribulation. We would | say, therefore, let only the most necessary forms and | paradigms of noun, verb, and pronoun be learned by heart | from the grammar in the outset; and let the pupil not be left | (as is too often the case, by the indolence or perversity of the | master) to impress these necessary forms upon his memory | from the grammar only, as an independent and separate | business; but let the master commence with the reading of the | first lessons, and, along with a correct pronunciation, take | special care to bring before the pupil, in living examples, as | they occur, the most common forms of noun and verb and | pronoun; and, while he does this, let him never remit, | according to a hint already given, to cause the pupil to repeat | some short sentence, involving some single grammatical form, | with a clear voice, on the spot. By pursuing this system for | some time, the grammar will in fact be | practically educed by the teacher from the living body of the | language, and forced upon the scholar by the daily echoing of | living sounds, differing from the body of sounds with | which the spoken intercourse of life brings us into connexion, | only in this, ~~ that the sounds are made to bear upon the | memory of the scholar in a certain convenient succession | wisely calculated by a scientific teacher. With regard to the | other matters which grammars usually contain beyond the | most necessary forms of declension and conjugation, they | ought certainly to be let alone, till a period when the scholar | has attained considerable progress both in reading the | language, and in understanding it when read; and then, haply, | he will find that he has now learned, insensibly, by practice, | all that is essentially useful of that which the most laborious | systematic study precious to the practice | would have failed to hammer into his mind. | Let us illustrate this by an example: ~~ It is a common thing | to hear students of German complain of the exceeding | difficulty of what, according to the common arrangement of | the grammar certainly, are some of the most elementary parts | of that language. They complain that there is no rule for the | gender of the nouns, that Noehden's four declensions bring | only an apparent order into the | multifarious perplexity of the variations of case and number, | and that the four forms of the adjective, as standing singly, | coupled with a noun, with a definite, or with an indefinite | article (a thing unheard of in any other language) are, to say | the least of them, extremely tantalizing to a beginner. Let this | be so. All these things are very | tantalizing to a beginner. But what | necessity is there that a beginner should have anything to do | with them at all? They stand there, indeed, in front of the | grammar, most formidable, seeming to speak to the trembling | disciple in the language of sheer despair, like the inscription | which Dante read on Hell-gate ~~ | | ~~ and many boys at famous classical | schools have, no doubt, at an early period despaired of | Latinity, by having been prematurely plagued with things of a | like nature. But the learner of the language, under the | direction of a sensible teacher, has nothing whatever to do | cramming himself in an abstract shape with a preparatory | doze of matters, which the smooth and agreeable course of | practice will afterwards shuffle into his hands abundantly, | whether he will or no. If you know, for example, that | Band in German means a volume, you | have got the main thing, you have got the word for the idea; | get as many of these radical words as you can, and as speedily | as possible; but don't encumber your first outset with the | anxious concern whether it be Band | or Band, masculine or | neuter in gender, and whether the plural be | or or | You can use a master, and use a dictionary, and use your | tongue also, in a manner, without having previously learned a | minute accuracy, in all points, of gender and declension. Don't | vex yourselves with grammar rules, but blunder on, as we said | before. Ox. Oxes? Well, that is an | error! It should be Oxen! ~~ but you | don't require to learn this before | reading or speaking the language; but by | reading it. | Thus much for the use of the grammar. A word now on | dictionaries, and private reading, and on the Hamiltonian | system ~~ for all these things hang together. As for | dictionaries, though we have all along protested against a lazy | or pedantic teacher leaving his scholar to quarry out his stock | of vocables from them merely or mainly; yet there is no doubt | they are of infinite use in the very first motions of the scholar, | and for the prosecution of private reading altogether | indispensable. The master, therefore, so soon as he perceives | that the memory has got a substantial hold of the main forms | of noun and verb, should instruct the pupil minutely in the art | of using the dictionary; that is to say, should make him | familiar with the common forms of prefix and affix, whereby | the root is modified; and at the same time put in his hand, for | frequent private repetition, a convenient list of such irregular | forms of flection as the dictionary does not present in | alphabetical order. So instructed, let the student gird himself | lustily to the task (for a task it will be at first) of private | reading; and for this purpose let him choose a book that he can | read with interest and pleasure; and read, day after day, | without intermission, two or three hours at least, continuously. | The more the | | young scholar reads, and the more incessantly the better. | Every day intermitted is two days lost. In the study of | language, as in many other studies, to halt is to go backward. | Why do the boys who study Latin and Greek in our schools | and colleges make such pitiful progress? Not only because, as | we have already shown, they are not made to receive those | languages by the natural inlet of the ear by means of speech | and discourse, but because, at that early age, they are | incapable of carrying on a continued course of attractive | reading in the languages which they are set to acquire. And | this leads us to conclude, that the present system of teaching | Greek and Latin to mere BOYS, as practised in the English | schools, and in the Scottish schools and universities, is | altogether a mistake. Young people of a very tender age may | take up a foreign language very readily, when they have a | person near them continually to repeat the foreign phrase, and | to help them on with some pleasing reading suited to their | capacity; but boys who are set to learn Latin and Greek | according to the present system, both want a master that can | so teach, and a book that can so be read. We are of opinion, | therefore, that the study of the learned languages ought | (except in a few peculiar cases) not to be commenced till the | higher functions of fancy and feeling begin to stir, and a taste | for literature and reading begins to bud in the soul. Such a | stimulus only will spur a man on cheerfully to encounter and | manfully to overcome those obstacles, which, as pedagogy is | not present constituted, stands in the way of all knowledge of | the dead languages which is not there spelling of words and | poising of syllables. | On the Hamiltonian system, and the method of interlinear | translations, much need not be said. If it could be proved that | the interlinear translations enabled the student, within a | certain time, to master a greater number of words thoroughly, | then of course the use of such translations were to be | recommended. But it is plain, that the meaning of many words | cannot be fully learned from the sense in which they occur in | one particular place of a writing. Some explanation will, in | most cases, be necessary to bring before the student the | primary idea of the word, of which idea its use in any | particular passage is a mere modification. Now, if this | explanation must be given, why should you prefer giving it in | a note which only serves one special passage, to giving it in a | book of convenient reference, which contains that word in all | its varieties, and every other word of the language ~~ is in fact | a collected system of notes for all the books in the language? | ~~ It must not be forgotten, moreover, that the consulting of | the dictionary is a continual and most useful practical exercise | in the forms and flections of all words, but especially of the | numerous sort of derivative and compound words that make | up the bulk of a language. Besides, does not the human mind | require to stir up its energy, and formally gird itself to any | great undertaking! And is the Hamiltonian system no rather | apt to set the student asleep? ~~ On the other hand, it is plain, | that boys in grammar schools, are often set to handle | dictionaries from which it is practically impossible for | their capacity to fish out the proper meaning of words. For | persons of a tender age a special vocabulary for each book, | and a set of wisely selected notes, seem absolutely necessary. | We say, therefore, that to talk of dispensing with a dictionary | is a dream, and the dream of a very superficial person. But in | order that the pupil may, in as speedy a way as possible, get | the command of a fair number of vocables, we go back to our | living machinery of an ECHO-CHAMBER, and suggest that | the master should, at an early period of the course, commence | reading to his pupils a series of short discourses or lectures in | the language to be acquired. Of these it will be necessary for | the teacher, for the first week or two, to give a previous | explanation in English to the student: but afterwards it will be | sufficient to furnish him with a list of the more difficult words | and their meanings on the day previous to the lecture; and the | student having carefully committed these to memory, will find | himself in a condition to follow the whole discourse, at first | with difficulty, but after a few trials, with the most perfect | ease. This plan, viewed as a means of lightening the labour of | consulting the dictionary, will be found infinitely more natural | and efficacious than the Hamiltonian system; for while it puts | into the hand of the student directly (without the necessity of | laborious quarrying and pioneering on his part) a number of | the most common words of the language in their most | common acceptation, it at the same time exercises his ear in | the art of following the spoken tongue; a matter of the first | practical importance, though in scholastic methods of teaching | often the last thing attended to, and in not a few cases | altogether neglected. | We have said nothing hitherto of written exercises; and we | have placed them last for a plain reason, (not always | sufficiently considered, however,) that in | natural acquisition of language FLUENCY | comes first and ACCURACY | afterwards. ~~ Now, it is manifest that | the end proposed to be achieved by written exercises is the | attainment of accuracy; and if so, it is equally manifest that | the nails must be there to pare before a man can pare them. To | commence with written exercises, therefore, seems altogether | a preposterous method, and tends merely to produce | prematurely in the mind of the student a minute and nice | anxiety about grammatical points more likely to hinder his | progress than to advance it. It is a gross waste of time, | moreover, to make a separate and distinct business of learning | by the painful tentative iteration of the pen, those things which | will flow into the ear spontaneously, by the assiduous use of a | practical course such as we have recommended. Let the main | thing, therefore, be, for six months to read as much of the | written, and to hear as much of the spoken language as | possible; and then writing will have some materials to work | on, some model on which it may be formed; for to set boys to | write Latin themes or "versions" by the help of grammars and | dictionaries merely, is the most fruitless of all scholastic | laboriosities. The only proper way to write a language is from | direct imitation of a | | written model, as we learn to speak by imitation of a speaking | model. The master may accordingly proceed, as his pupils | advance, after the delivery of a short lecture, to request them | to put into their own language, and read or speak on the spot | an epitome of what they have heard; and this practice, if | wisely superintended by an assiduous teacher, will in a very | short time be observed to have produced miracles, ~~ not | accuracy merely in the scholar, but what is of much greater | importance, a firm practical hold, and a dexterous command | of the tongue. Of course, in all these observations we premise, | both that the pupil is determined to learn, and that the master | is one who has learned the practical art of swimming in the | language which he professes; for if he can only set stones with | much preparation, and cross the stream at a shallow places, | the student must even betake himself to the toilsome but sure | method of private study. READ! READ! READ! There is | nothing else for it ~~ read whatever you appetite affects, but | especially poetry; for ancient verse, besides the meaning, | teaches the quantity, as modern rhyme does both the | accentuation and the pronunciation of a language. | We now conclude. If the reader has recognised any truth in the | above remarks, he will be disposed to think with the writer, | that the learning even of the most difficult languages is, or | may be made, a much more easy and ready matter than many | are apt to suppose. It requires no peculiar bump of the | cranium, or intellectual idiosyncrasy, as some persons | imagine. Any man who is not incurable lazy, or morbidly | timid, may be taught to learn a foreign tongue just as he has | learned his own. At the same time, let no mere talker deceive | himself. Language is something more than a game: it is a | building of words; and to build requires labour. No man can | expect to make himself seriously to work; taking the outposts | of the position by storm, so to speak. The road being clearly | known, and the purpose seriously taken to make a journey, | three things are necessary to achieve it: Confidence to begin, | perseverance to go on, and determination to finish. Have these | three: and while the most obvious language will not be learned | without considerable labour, the most remote will present | nothing that, to a man of ordinary diligence, shall appear a | DIFFICULTY.