THE ART OF QUESTIONING.

Marlborough Express, Volume XLII, Issue 231, 29 September 1908, Page 2

THE ART OF QUESTIONING.

LECTURE BY DR INNES.

• Last evening a lecture was given in Wesley Hall by Dr Times, Rector of the Marlborough High School, on "The Art of Questioning." The lecture was the third of a series which is being delivered by prominent educationalists to the Sunday school toachers of Blenheim. The Rev. C. Penney occupied the chair, and there v.as a good attendance. At the conclusion of the address, Dr Innes answered questions, which were asked by members of the audience. The lecture which, follow^ is given in extensor — ! THE ART OF QUESTIONING. The title of this paper, suggested to me by Mr Paine, reminded me of a familiar story about the poet Pope. Once, in his company, a military officer spoke of a "note of interrogation." "And pray, sir," asked Pope, who was four feet nothing in height, and a hunchback, "pray, sir, what is a 'note of Interrogation'?" The reply came quickly, "A little crooked thing that asks questions." Every teacher has to spend much of his time in performing the same function as those "little crooked things," in asking questions. To ask them is usually easy; to answer them, often hard, and yet sometimes to ask is not so easy as one would think, i.e., to ask in the "best way. There is a better way and a worse; there are ways of approach that it is well to avoid, ways that it is well to seek. In this, as in so many other cases, one's mother-wit, and experience are the main factors, the wit to see what is good and what bad, experience in dealing with children, and. the mental alertness to profit by experience; yet a few suggestions may be helpful by directing observation in the right channels'. Let us approach the topic with a question. Why do we ask questions? For many reasons; for mere purposes of oratorical force, sometimes to gain information, more usually to impart information, and, to. measure the extent of a, pupil's knowledge and capacity, or, as we commonly /say, to examine him. Our questions and his answers may be oral, or they may be written. Each ( of these aspects will call for some consideration. The aim of the orator's interrogation is to arrest attention, to stimulate the hearer, to arouse a flagging interest, to awaken curiosity. Sometimes he answers his question himself ; sometimes- he leaves the hearer to supply it mentally. Many examples of this will occur to you. "Who is my mother P And who are my .brethren ? Behold, my mother and my brethren!" "Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" "Why take yet thought for raiment? Consider the lilies how they grow." With this rhetorical form of question the teacher has little to do, though even for him it occasionally has its uses.

That other use of the question, the commonest in ordinary usage, to gain information, is also foreign to our function. Not that the teacher is omniscient; he cannot kno.w everything, nor can he even, as is sometimes expected of the educated man, know "a little of everything and everything of something." So of necessity we must at times confess ignorance, and such open and candid admission is honester and more whole-

some than a pretence to knowledge that we have not. Sometimes then, both being in darkness, teacher and pupil may go hand in hand in search of light; it is not inconceivable that 'the teacher may learn from the pupils. "Don't pretend you know everything under the sun, though your school days are ended, and theirs but begun, but honestly say. when the case is so: This thing, my dear children, I do not know," For they really must learn either slower or speedier, That you're not a walking Encyclo-. psedia.

On one point, however, we do require to ask for information, and that is, the state of knowledge or .opinion of those with whom we liave to deal. Investigation on this point is essential when we are dealing with a pupil for the first time. We must ascertain on what foundation we are to build.

For our purpose, however^ the 7 most' important objects of questioning are to instruct and to examine, to "ques-' jfcion it in," and "question it out. By .asking questions, one directs the mind forcibly to what is to be observed, insists on exactness and closeness of observation, stimulates. awakens trains, of thought, directs the working of the mind into logical channels. Suppose you listen to a. sermon or a lecture; at the end of it, how much do you know of what was said? Perhaps, very little. It does not therefore follow that you have not benefited. No thought enters the mind without having some effect, however minute, on the subsequent workings of that mind, and its attitude to things in general, and so an impression, fleeting though it may seem, is not wholly lost and void of effect. But how much greater the effect if you could go over that address agajn. and have its points "questioned into' you! Herein is one of the great advantages of the written wojd over the spoken,; with the written you may go over tho ground again and again. Few people, however, read properly. The majority are content to let a stream or words flow through tneir I minds, without leaving any trace of the fine gold of thought behind. If there is any deposit it is, maybe, only 'of the watery mud. The flow must be checked; there must be pauses in the reading, stops to the current, so that there may be opportunity for the golden thought stamped from the rock by the battery of the author's genius, to find a lodgment in the mind. Let a pupil read a paragraph of, say, a history' book; Ask him what the paragraph is about. The effort to grasp the general' theme of a paragraph is a beneficial one. The pupil may give a satisfactory answer; he wili probably give a defective one, and must be ledito see that it is de-

fective arid to aiiiend it. He may be content to echo the last words that ring in ; his memory, and; must be questioned to see that he urider-

stands the thought they express. He may mention some merely subordinate detail; a "why?" or a ''when? 3' may lead him to see for himself that it is

' subordinate, and may guide him to the central thought, and the various details may in like manner be brought within his grip. Do not tell him what he can be led to discover for himself. The value of an incident or of a description depends greatly upon the details, and few readers take cognisance of those details. Having ears they hear not, having eyes, they see not. Suppose our subject is "The Prodigal Son." Our first aim would be to get a clear grasp of the facts of the story. We should bring out its human interest, and afterwards try to arrive at its spiritual significance. "We would Ijpgin by reading the parable. So beautiful a passage would be spoilt by b?.ing broken up into fragments, and

one voice, preferably the teacher s, should read the whole uninterruptedly. Then would come questions and explanations to elucidate the facts. The pupils "would have their books open before them. How many persons, (we would proceed) are concern«jd in this story? Who were they? f , What of the mother? What request did one of them make? Which of them was it ? When the younger son asked this, what did the father do? When he had received his share, what did the Y ounger son do? Why was he unwilling to stay at home? What use did he make of his money? What happened when it was all gone ? What ■ work did he get to do? Why was j that particular kind of .work distasteful to a Jew? What food was he glad to eat? What had become of the comrades who had helped him to I spend his money? What thoughts came into his mind while'he looked j after the' swine in the fields? What j resolve did he make? What did he : then do? What feelings do you think I he must have had "as he approached j his old home? Who was the first to ! see him when "he was yet a great i way off" ? What was the old father's feeling? What did he do? Why did he "run"? Finding himself so lovingly "welcomed, the son might have changed, his purpose, and given up his intention to confess his wrong- ' doing, and his humble submissiveness; | did he do. so? What was the father's ' reply 'to him? Where was the elder , brother meanwhile? What was he do- ] ing in the fields? As he approached , the house, what sounds did he hear? When the servant told him what they meant, how did he feel ? How did his anger make him behave?. Who tried ;to persuade him to join in the festive welcome? What protest did he ! make to Ms father? and whatJ was the father's reply? What dal You think of the conduct of the elder brother? Why was the old father so different? After a course of questions kjse^jishis fe^f details would have without'^ tyiv^Ass.oil! ?~ iM * direction ; would be diverted by the answers, and ■' herei ,aii&s there ■ attention would have'ito1 foe! drawn '-tp, points too fine for question. Even ma Sunday school lesson it would not jje amiss to notice the beautiful simplicity and rhythm of -the language used, the subtle charm in the repetitions, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son; make me as one of thy,'hired . servants" ; and again, "For this my son," "For this thy brother/'-^ Was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found," and the pathetic suggestiveness of that "When he was yet a great way off." We might well ask a senior class to picture to themselves the lonely, wifeless old man out in the fields yearning for his wandering boy, now long unheard of, as the aged Jacob yearned, for tlie lost Joseph, and wondering if his grey hairs would go down in sorrow to the graye, or if he, too, would be able like Jacob to say, "It is enough; my son is yet alive; I will see him before I die"; and then lifting up his" eyes and beholding the ragged, hunger-worn figure, "Yet a great way off." When the story was thoroughly "questioned in" we might ask,one pupil to re-tell it to us inTiisi own words. Then we should have v to , make clear the spiritual meaning. We might begin by asking in general terms what the spiritual meaning was, and develop the .answer received. We might ask whom the father repre-. sented, of whom the two sons-respec-tively were types. This would necessitate a reference to the accusation that gave rise to the parable, "This i man receiyeth tinners and eateth | with them," and to the companion parables of the lost coin, and of the J©st sheep. The greater part of this portion of our lesson would be exposition on the part of the teacher. He would take care not to press the de-i tails too closely, for to do so would spoil the effect for children. The; story for its human i interest and only' the broad spiritual meaning would; suffice. :

I was led to deal with this parable? for the purpose of illustrating the manner in which the points of what has been read may be brought home to the mind. In many cases a lack of grip of the thought comes from familiarity with the words. -This evil is apt, I think ; to appear in an exaggerated form in scripture lessons. In our deep anxiety to make our children familiar with Holy Writ, we are apt to teach them its words so early and so thoroughly that the words become like dead matter in their minds, not absolutely dead, for at some later day, reflection, some event that hap-; pens, or some word that is heard, may galvanise the inert mass into life. But meanwhile, who does- not know from his own experience that for years Words may run in the mind without their meaning being realised ? I have even read of a bishop who confessed that he had often preached from a text whose full significance he did not feel till a sermon preached by another flashed light upon it. This: then, is a danger to be' guarded against. We must not familiarise children with sets of words that have no meaning to them. Our treatment, again, will vary with the age and attainments of the child. A child's range is limited; its knowledge is scanty; its appetite for facts is enormous, and if the, facts are facts of the imagination, so much the more are they welcome. In framing questions therefore w© must ever have in mind the mental state of our child. This is where many people fail. They cannot project themselves in the child's mind; cannot forget that their own knowledge and experience are wider than his; cannot put themselves in his place, imagine his difficulty, and smooth it away. A child is perplexed, bewildered, but from lack of knowledge is rarely able to realise the

nature of his difficulty, far less to express it. It is for the teacher, with sympathetic insight, to peer into the corners of the child's min^L to discover for him what the difficulty is. Speaking generally, women have this sympathetic insight to a greater extent than men^ and that is why women are more successful with younger children. It is, however, rather an intellectual, imaginative, than an emotional sympathy, and is innate. The teacher, like the poet, is born, not made, yet this innate quality is capable of being developed by experience. A consideration of the child's mental development will also guide us as to the form of our questions. In any case, questions must be short. A child, or an adult, for that matter, soon loses the point of a question put in too many words. We shall avoid a question that is vague, and one that admits of several different answers. The question should be put simply, in easy words, and lucid form, one question at a time. And in general it should be one that admits of a fairly short answer, for the answer, though not necessarily in a formally complete sentence, should be grammatical in form, and should tally with the question. If I ask, "What is meant by a parable?" I shall be told "A parable is when," and so on, instead o\ something like this, "A parable is a short story, in which" and so on. Nor should one be content with hackneyedf expressions, however glibly, they trip from the tongue. When I have had occasion to ask, "What is an allegory?" I have not seldom been told, "An allegory is an earthly story with a heavenly meaning," as if, that settled the whole" matter; but when I< have asked, "What do :you mean "by an earthly story? and what by a heavenly meaning?" my victim has been puzzled to explain. I would then ask for an example of an allegory, and would perhaps,, but not certainly (for the book is nowadays not so much read by children as talked about by grown-ups) have the Pilgrim's Progress mentioned. Then someone who had read it would tell something of the "earthly story," and a few interrogations would extract some of the "heavenly meaning,", or this would be told, and then we should try to construct our own definition, or rather our description, for precise definition is in many instances not to be exacted from children. Answers that are evidently learnt by heart are to be regarded with suspicion. Of course, if the pupil really understands what he says,' all is well, but one must probe into his mind and make sure of the fact. An inaccurate or fragmentary answer, the result of a pupil's own observation or thinking, is worth a hundred times, more than one that he has learnt by heart unintelligeritly. "An Unfavored thing," said Shakespeare's clown Touchstone, when he wedded the rustic Audray, "an ill-favored thing, but mine own. And that is.-the best attitude to adopt to a pupils-answer. "An ill-favored thing" it may be, but if it is his own there is hopjs; It shows his mind is working, and it gives you something to go on. Never scorn a wrong; answer. Even if it is grossly wrong,, treat it with respect, if it is given sincerely lead Jboy little by little to see why it is wrong, and to substitute something better. What seemb a stupid answer, sometimes when carefully investigated displays a surprising amount of ingenuity. Sometimes a pupil answers the< question asked, but his answer is rejected because the questioner meant something other than he said. The question has been asked, "What is dew?" and the answer given "Dew is little drops of wator." This, though incomplete is correct. What the teacher meant to ask was, "How is dew formed?" (To be Continued.)