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International Language, Past, Present & Future

Front matter (continued 3)

Reading edition

VI

the newest languages: a neo-latin group—gropings towards a "pan-european" amalgamated scheme

A perusal of the list of schemes proposed shows that the last few years have produced quite a crop of artificial languages. Now that the main principles necessary to success are coming to be recognized, the points of difference between the rival schemes are narrowing down, and, as mentioned in the last chapter, there is a family likeness between many of the newer projects. The chief of these are: Idiom Neutral; Pan-Roman or Universal, by Dr. Molenaar; Latino sine flexione, by Prof. Peano; Mundolingue; Nuove-Roman; and Lingua Komun.

These have been grouped together by certain adversaries as "Neo-Roman"; but their partisans seem to prefer the collective term "Neo-Latin." There are more or less vague hopes that out of them may be evolved a final form of international language, for which the names Pan-European and Union-Ling have been suggested. Dr. Molenaar has declared his willingness to keep to his original title, Pan-Roman, for his own language, if the composite one should prefer to be called Universal. Prof. Peano says, in the course of an article (written in his own language, of course), "any fresh solution in the future can only differ from Idiom Neutral, as two medical or mathematical treatises dealing with the same subject."

The only definite scheme for common action put forth up to now seems to be that proposed by Dr. Molenaar. In January 1907 he sent round a circular written in French, in which he makes the following propositions:

All authors and notable partisans of Neo-Latin universal languages shall meet in a special academy, which will elaborate a compromise-language.

As regards the programme, the three fundamental principles shall be:

1. Internationality and comprehensibility. 2. Simplicity and regularity. 3. Homogeneity and euphony.

Of these principles, No. 1 is to take precedence of No. 2, and No. 2 of No. 3.

The order of discussion is to be:

I. Grammar

(a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f) Alphabet. Articles (necessary or not?). Declension. Plural (-s or -i?). Adjective (invariable or not?). Adverb, etc.

II. Vocabulary

The number of collaborators is to be limited to about twenty, and the chairman is to be a non-partisan.

Such, in outline, is the proposal of Dr. Molenaar. An obvious criticism is that it falls back into the old mistake of putting grammar before vocabulary.

From a practical point of view such a composite scheme is not likely to meet with acceptance. It will be very hard for authors of languages to be impartial and sacrifice their favourite devices to the common opinion. M. Bollack, author of the Langue bleue, has already refused the chairmanship. He does not see the use of founding a fresh academy, and thinks Dr. Molenaar would do better to join forces with the Neutralists.

There exists indeed already an "Akademi International de Lingu Universal," which has produced Idiom Neutral, and of which Mr. Holmes is still director, now in his second term (see preceding chapter). This academy is said to be too one-sided in its composition, and not scientific. But it is hard to see how it will abdicate in favour of a new one.

Meantime, the victorious Esperantists, at present in possession of the field, poke fun at these new-fangled schemes. A parody in Esperanto verse, entitled Lingvo de Molenaar, and sung to the tune of the American song Riding down from Bangor, narrates the fickleness of Pan-Roman and how it changed into Universal. It is said that a group of Continental Esperantists, at a convivial sitting, burnt the apostate Idiom Neutral in effigy by making a bonfire of Neutral literature. On the other side amenities are not wanting. It is now the fashion to sling mud at a rival language by calling it "arbitrary" and "fantastic"; and these epithets are freely applied to Esperanto. Strong in their cause, the Esperantists are peacefully preparing the Congress of Cambridge.

VII

history of esperanto

Happy is the nation that has no history,—still happier the international language; for a policy of "pacific penetration" offers few picturesque incidents to furnish forth a readable narrative. In the case of Esperanto there have been no splits or factions; no narrow ring of oligarchs has cornered the language for its own purposes, or insisted upon its aristocratic and non-popular side in the supposed interests of culture or literary taste; consequently there has been no secession of the plebs. In the early days of Esperanto there was indeed an attempt to found an Esperanto league; but when it was seen that the league did little beyond suggest alterations, it was wisely dissolved in 1894. Since then Esperanto has been run purely on its merits as a language, and has expressly dissociated itself from any political, pacifist, or other propaganda. Its story is one of quiet progress—at first very slow, but within the last five years wonderfully rapid, and still accelerating. The most sensational episode in this peaceful advance was the prohibition of the principal Esperantist organ by the Russian censorship, so that there is little to do, save record one or two leading facts and dates.

The inventor of Esperanto is a Polish doctor, Ludwig Lazarus Zamenhof, now living in Warsaw. He was born in 1859 at Bielostock, a town which has lately become notorious as the scene of one of the terrible Russian pogroms, or interracial butcheries. This tragedy was only the culmination of a chronic state of misunderstanding, which long ago so impressed the young Zamenhof that, when still quite a boy, he resolved to labour for the removal of one cause of it by facilitating mutual intercourse. He has practically devoted his life first to the elaboration of his language, and of later years to the vast amount of business that its extension involves. And it has been a labour of love. Zamenhof is an idealist. His action, in all that concerns Esperanto, has been characterized throughout by a generosity and self-effacement that well correspond to the humanitarian nature of the inspiration that produced it. He has renounced all personal rights in and control of the Esperanto language, and kept studiously in the background till the first International Congress two years ago forced him into the open, when he emerged from his retirement to take his rightful place before the eyes of the peoples whom his invention had brought together.

But he is not merely an idealist: he is a practical idealist. This is shown by his self-restraint and practical wisdom in guiding events. One of the symptoms of "catching Esperanto" is a desire to introduce improvements. This morbid propensity to jejune amateur tinkering, a kind of measles of the mind (morbus linguificus1) attacks the immature in years or judgment. A riper acquaintance with the history and practical aims of international language purges it from the system. We have all been through it. For the inventor of Esperanto, accustomed for so many years to retouch, modify, and revise, it must require no ordinary degree of self-control to keep his hands off, and leave the fate of his offspring to others. It grew with his growth, developing with his experience, and he best knows where the shoe pinches and what might yet be done. But he has the fate of Volapük before his eyes. He knows that, having wrought speech for the people, he must leave it to the people, if he wishes them to use and keep using it.

1An expressive (homoeopathic) name for this malady may be coined in Esperanto: malsano lingvotrudema = officious or intrusive disease, consisting in an itch for coining language.

Contrast the uncompromising attitude of the inventor of Volapük, Bishop Schleyer. It will be remembered how he let Volapük run upon the rocks rather than relinquish the helm. He has been nicknamed "the Volapükist Pope"—and indeed he made the great and fatal bull of believing in his own infallibility. Zamenhof has never pretended to this. When he first published his language, he made no claim to finality on its behalf. He called for criticisms, and contemplated completing and modifying his scheme in accordance with them. He even offered to make over this task to a duly constituted academy, if people would come forward and throw themselves into the work. Again, some years later, in a pamphlet, Choix d'une langue Internationale, he proposed a scheme for obtaining a competent impartial verdict, and declared his willingness to submit to it. At one time he thought of something in the nature of a plebiscite. Later, his renunciation of the last vestige of control, in giving up the aprobo, or official sanction of books; his attitude at the international congresses; his refusal to accept the presidency; his reluctance to name or influence the selection of the members of the body charged with the control of the language; his declaration that his own works have no legislative power, but are merely those of an Esperantist; finally, his sane conception of the scope and method of future development of the language to meet new needs, and of the limits within which it is possible—all this bespeaks the man who has a clear idea of what he is aiming at, and a shrewd grasp of the conditions necessary to ensure success.

The word Esperanto is the present participle of the verb esperi—"to hope," used substantially. It was under the pseudonym of Dr. Esperanto that Zamenhof published his scheme in 1887 at Warsaw, and the name has stuck to the language. Before publication it had been cast and recast many times in the mind of its author, and it is curious to note that in the course of its evolution he had himself been through the principal stages exhibited in the history of artificial language projects for the last three hundred years. That is to say, he began with the idea of an a priori language with made-up words and arbitrary grammar, and gradually advanced to the conception of an a posteriori language, borrowing its vocabulary from the roots common to several existing languages and presenting in its grammar a simplification of Indo-European grammar.

He began to learn English at a comparatively advanced stage of his education, and the simplicity of its grammar and syntax was a revelation to him. It had a powerful influence in helping him to frame his grammar, which underwent a new transformation. Specimens of the language as Zamenhof used to speak it with his school and student friends show a wide divergence from its present form. He seems to have had cruel disappointments, and was disillusioned by the falling away of youthful comrades who had promised to fight the battles of the language they practised with enthusiasm at school. During long years of depression work at the language seems to have been almost his one resource. Its absolute simplicity is deceptive as to the immense labour it must have cost a single man to work it out. This is only fully to be appreciated by one who has some knowledge of former attempts. Zamenhof himself admits that, if he had known earlier of the existence of Volapük, he would never have had the courage to continue his task, though he was conscious of the superiority of his own solution. When, after long hesitation, he made up his mind to try his luck and give his language to the world, Volapük was strong, but already involved in internal strife.

Zamenhof's book appeared first in Russian, and the same year (1887) French and German editions appeared at Warsaw. The first instruction book in English appeared in the following year. The only name on the title-page is "St. J.," and it passed quite unnoticed.

Progress was at first very slow. The first Esperanto society was founded in St. Petersburg, 1892, under the name of La Espero. As early as 1889 the pioneer Esperanto newspaper, La Esperantisto1 conducted chiefly by Russians and circulated mainly in Russia, began to appear in Nuremberg, where there was already a distinguished Volapük club, afterwards converted to Esperanto. Since then Nuremberg has continued to be a centre of light in the movement for an international language. The other pioneer newspapers were L'Espirantiste, founded in 1898 at Epernay by the Marquis de Beaufront, and La Lumo of Montreal.

1Afterwards prohibited in Russia, owing to the collaboration of Count Tolstoi, and transferred to Upsala under the name Lingvo Internacia. Since 1902 it has been published in Paris.

In Germany in the early days of Esperanto the great apostles were Einstein and Trompeter, and it was owing to the liberality of the latter that the Nuremberg venture was rendered possible.

Somewhat later began in France the activity of the greatest and most fervent of all the apostles of Esperanto, the Marquis de Beaufront. By an extraordinary coincidence he had ready for the press a grammar and complete dictionary of a language of his own, named Adjuvanto. When he became acquainted with Esperanto, he recognized that it was in certain points superior to his own language, though the two were remarkably similar. He suppressed his own scheme altogether, and threw himself heart and soul into the work of spreading Esperanto. In a series of grammars, commentaries, and dictionaries he expounded the language and made it accessible to numbers who, without his energy and zeal, would never have been interested in it. Among other well-known French leaders are General Sebert, of the French Institute, M. Boirac, Rector of the Dijon University, and M. Gaston Moch, editor of the Indépendance Belge.

In England the pioneer was Mr. Joseph Rhodes, who, with Mr. Ellis, founded the first English group at Keighley in November 1902.1 Just a year later appeared the first English Esperanto journal, The Esperantist, edited by Mr. H. Bolingbroke Mudie, London. Since 1905 it has been incorporated with The British Esperantist, the official organ of the British Esperanto Association. The association was founded in October 1904.

1The foundation of the London Esperanto Club took place at practically the same time, and the club became the headquarters of the movement in Great Britain.

The first international congress was held at Boulogne in August 1905. It was organized almost entirely by the president of the local group, M. Michaux, a leading barrister and brilliant lecturer and propagandist. It was an immense success, and inaugurated a series of annual congresses, which are doing great work in disseminating the idea of international language. The second was held in Geneva, August 1906; and the third will be held at Cambridge, August 10–17, 1907. It is unnecessary to describe the congresses here, as an account has been given in an early chapter.

Within the last three or four years Esperanto has spread all over the world, and fresh societies and newspapers are springing up on every side. Since the convincing demonstration afforded by the Geneva Congress, Switzerland is beginning to take the movement seriously. Many classes and lectures have been held, and the university is also now lending its aid. In the present year (1907) an International Esperantist Scientific Office has been founded in Geneva, with M. René de Saussure as director, and amongst the members of the auxiliary committee are seventeen professors and eight privat-docents (lecturers) of the Geneva University.

Its object is to secure the recognition of Esperanto for scientific purposes, and to practically facilitate its use. To this end the office carries on the work of collecting technical vocabularies of Esperanto, with the aid of all scientists whose assistance it may receive. This is perhaps the most practical step yet taken towards the standardization of technical terms, which is so badly needed in all branches of science. A universal language offers the best solution of the vexed question, because it starts with a clean sheet. Once a term has been admitted, by the competent committee for a particular branch of science, into the technical Esperanto vocabulary of that science, it becomes universal, because it has no pre-existent rivals; and its universal recognition in the auxiliary language will react upon writers' usage in their own language.

The Geneva office will also aid in editing scientific Esperantist reviews; and the chief existing one, the Internacia Scienca Revuo, will henceforth be published in Geneva instead of in Paris, as hitherto.

The two principal objects of the Esperantist Scientific Association are:

1. Scientists should always use Esperanto during their international congresses.

2. Scientific periodicals should accept articles written in Esperanto (as they now do in the case of English, French, German, and Italian), and should publish in Esperanto a brief summary of every article written in a national language.

A few weeks after the Geneva Congress there was a controversy on the subject of Esperanto between two of the best known and most widely read Swiss and French newspapers—the Paris Figaro and the Journal de Geneve. The respective champions were the Comte d'Haussonville, of the Académie Française, and M. de Saussure, a member of a highly distinguished Swiss scientific family; and the matter caused a good deal of interest on the Continent. France was, in this case, reactionary and ancien régime: the smaller Republic backed Esperanto and progress. M. de Saussure brought forward facts, and the count served up the old arguments about Esperanto being unpatriotic and the prejudice it would inflict upon literature. The whole thing was a good illustration of a fact that is already becoming prominent in the history of the auxiliary language movement—the scientists are much more favourable than the literary men. As regards educational reform, the conservative attitude of the classicists is well known, though there are many exceptions, especially among real teachers. But it is somewhat remarkable that, when the proposed reform deals with language, those whose business it is to know about languages should not take the trouble to examine the scheme properly, before giving an opinion one way or the other.

As this question of the attitude of literary men has, and will have, a vital bearing upon the prospects of international language, and consequently upon its history, this is perhaps the place to remove a misunderstanding. A distinguished literary man objected to the foregoing passage as a stricture upon men of letters. His point was: "Of course literary men care less for Esperanto than scientific men do: it must be so, because they need it less." Now this is quite true: there is little doubt that to-day science is, perhaps inevitably, more cosmopolitan than letters, whatever people may say about "the world-wide republic of letters." But it does not meet the point. Esperantists do not complain because men of letters are not interested in Esperanto. They have their own interests and occupations, and nobody would be so absurd as to make it a grievance that they will not submit to have thrust upon them a language for which they have no taste or use. What Esperantists do very strongly object to is that some literary men lend the weight of their name and position to irresponsible criticism. Let them take or leave Esperanto as seems good to them. Their responsible opinions, based upon due study of the question, are always eagerly welcomed. But do not let them misrepresent Esperanto to the public, thereby unfairly prejudicing its judgment. Such action is unworthy of serious men. When a man puts forward criticisms of Esperanto based upon elementary errors of fact, or complains that Esperantists will not listen to reason because they ignore proposals for change, which have long ago been threshed out and found wanting, or are obviously unpractical, he is merely showing that he has not studied the question. A fair analogy would be the case of a chemist or engineer who had recently begun to dabble in Greek in his spare moments, and who should undertake to emend the text of Sophocles. His suggestions would show that he knew no Greek, that he had never heard of Sir Richard Jebb, and that he was ignorant of all the results of scientific textual criticism. But here comes in the difference. Such a critic would be laughed out of court, and told to mind his own business, or else learn Greek before he undertook to emend it. But as international language is a novelty to most people, it is thought that any one can make, mend, or criticise it. It is not, like Greek, yet recognized as a serious subject, and therefore irresponsible criticism is too apt to be taken at its face value, merely on the ipse dixit of the critic, especially if he happens to be an influential man in some other line. Nobody bothers about his qualifications in international language; nobody either knows or cares whether he has any claim to be heard on the subject at all.

The fact is that international language now has a considerable history behind it. A large amount of experience has been amassed, and is now available for any one who is willing and competent to go into the question. But, in order to do fruitful work in this field, it is just as necessary as in any other to be properly equipped, and to know where others have left off, before you begin.

At the first international congress at Boulogne the history of Esperanto was well summed up in a thoughtful speech by Dr. Bein, of Poland, himself a considerable Esperantist author, using the nom de guerre "Kabe." He pointed out that we are still in the first or propaganda stage of international language, in which it is necessary to hold congresses, and the language is treated as an end in itself. There is good hope that the second stage may soon be reached, in which the language may be sufficiently recognized to take its proper place as a means.

Meantime, the first stage of Esperanto has been marked by three phases or periods—the Russian period, the French period, and the international period. Each has left its mark upon the language.

The Russian period is associated with the names of Kofman, Grabowski, Silesnjov, Gernet, Zinovjev, and many other writers of considerable literary power. Being the pioneers, they had to prove the capabilities of the language to the world, and in doing so they took off some of the rough of the world's indifference and scepticism. The language benefited by the fact that the first authors were Slavs. The simplicity of the Slav syntax, the logical arrangement of the sentences, the perfectly free and natural order of the words, passed unconsciously from their native language to the new one in the hands of these writers, and have been imitated by their successors.

The French period is associated chiefly with the name of M. de Beaufront. In Russia, side by side with the good points named above, certain less desirable Slavisms were creeping in; also there were hitherto no scientific dictionaries or explanation of syntax. As Dr. Bein says, de Beaufront may be called "the codifier of Esperanto." A goodly band of French writers now took the language in hand, and by their natural power of expression and exposition, which seems inborn in a Frenchman, and by their national passion for lucidity, they have no doubt strengthened the impulse of Esperanto towards clear-cut, vigorous style.

Possibly theorizing has been overdone in France; for, after all, the strong point of Esperanto syntax is that there is none to speak of, common sense being the guide. It is a pity to set up rules where none are necessary, or to do anything that can produce an impression in the minds of the uninitiated that learning Esperanto means anything approaching the memory drudgery necessary in grasping the rules and constructions of national languages.

The third period began soon after the turn of the century, and is still in full force. Take up any chance number of any Esperanto gazette out of the numbers that are published all over the world; you will hardly be able to draw any conclusion as to the nationality of the writer of the article you light upon, save perhaps for an occasional turn of an unpractised hand. Esperanto now has its style; it is—lucidity based upon common sense and the rudiments of a minimized grammar.

This chapter would not be complete without some account of the constitution of Esperanto, and the means which have been adopted to safeguard the purity of the language. It will be well to quote in full the Declaration adopted at Boulogne, in which its aim is set forth, and which forms, as it were, its written constitution. For the convenience of readers the Esperanto text and English translation are printed in parallel columns.

Deklaracio Declaration

Ĉar pri la esenco de Esperantismo multaj havas tre malveran ideon, tial ni subskribintoj, reprezentantoj de la Esperantismo en diversaj landoj de la mondo, kunvenintaj al la Internacia Kongreso Esperantista en Boulogne-sur-Mer, trovis necesa, laŭ la propono de la aŭtoro de la lingvo Esperanto, doni la sekvantan klarigon: Because many have a very false idea of the nature of Esperanto, therefore we, the undersigned, representing the cause of Esperanto in different countries of the world, having met together at the International Esperanto Congress in Boulogne-sur-Mer, have thought

1. La Esperantismo estas penado disvastigi en la tuta mondo la uzadon de lingvo neŭtrale homa, kiu, "ne entrudante sin en la internan vivon de la popoloj kaj neniom celante elpuŝi la ekzistantajn lingvojn naciajn," donus al la homoj de malsamaj nacioj la eblon kompreniĝadi inter si, kiu povus servi kiel paciga lingvo de publikaj institucioj en tiuj landoj kie diversaj nacioj batalas inter si pri la lingvo, kaj en kiu povus esti publikigataj tiuj verkoj kiuj havas egalan intereson por ĉiuj popoloj. 1. Esperanto in its essence is an attempt to diffuse over the whole world a language belonging to mankind without distinction, which, "not intruding upon the internal life of the peoples and in nowise aiming to drive out the existing national languages," should give to men of different nations the possibility of becoming mutually comprehensible, which might serve as a peace-making language for public institutions in those lands where different nations are involved in strife about their language, and in which might be published those works which possess an equal interest for all peoples.

Ĉiu alia ideo aŭ espero kiun tiu aŭ alia Esperantisto ligas kun la Esperantismo estos lia afero pure privata, por kiu la Esperantismo ne respondas. Any other idea or hope which this or that Esperantist associates with Esperanto will be his purely personal business, for which Esperanto is not responsible.

2. Ĉar en la nuna tempo neniu esploranto en la tuta mondo jam dubas pri tio, ke lingvo internacia povas esti nur lingvo arta, kaj ĉar, el ĉiuj multegaj provoj faritaj en la daŭro de la lastaj du centjaroj, ĉiuj prezentas nur teoriajn projektojn, kaj lingvo efektive finita, ĉiuflanke elprovita, perfekte vivipova, kaj en ĉiuj rilatoj pleje taŭga montriĝis nur unu sola lingvo, Esperanto, tial la amikoj de la ideo de lingvo internacia, konsciante ke teoria disputado kondukos al nenio kaj ke la celo povas esti atingita nur per laborado praktika, jam de longe ĉiuj grupiĝis ĉirkaŭ la sola lingvo, Esperanto, kaj laboras por ĝia disvastigado kaj riĉigado de ĝia literaturo. 2. Because at the present time no one who looks out over the whole world any longer doubts that an international language can only be an artificial

3. Ĉar la aŭtoro de la lingvo Esperanto tuj en la komenco rifuzis, unu fojon por ĉiam, ĉiujn personajn rajtojn kaj privilegiojn rilate tiun lingvon, tial Esperanto estas "nenies propraĵo," nek en rilato materiala, nek en rilato morala. 3. Because the author of the Esperanto language from the very beginning refused, once for all, all personal rights and privileges connected with that language, therefore Esperanto is "the property of no one," either from a material or moral point of view.

Materiala mastro de tiu ĉi lingvo estas la tuta mondo, kaj ĉiu deziranto povas eldonadi en aŭ pri tiu ĉi lingvo ĉiajn verkojn kiajn li deziras, kaj uzadi la lingvon por ĉiaj eblaj celoj kiel spiritaj mastroj de tiu ĉi lingvo estos ĉiam rigardataj tiuj personoj kiuj de la mondo Esperantista estos konfesataj kiel la plej bonaj kaj la plej talentaj verkistoj de tiu ĉi lingvo. Materially speaking, the whole world is master of this language, and any one who wishes can publish in or about this language works of any kind he wishes,

4. Esperanto havas neniun personan leĝdonanton kaj dependas de neniu aparta homo. Ĉiuj opinioj kaj verkoj de la kreinto de Esperanto havas, simile al la opinioj kaj verkoj de ĉiu alia Esperantisto, karakteron absolute privatan kaj por neniu devigan. La sola, unu fojon por ĉiam deviga por ĉiuj Esperantistoj, fundamento de la lingvo Esperanto estas la verketo Fundamento de Esperanto, en kiu neniu havas la rajton fari ŝanĝon. Se iu dekliniĝas de la reguloj kaj modeloj donitaj en la dirita verko, li neniam povas pravigi sin per la vortoj "tiel deziras aŭ konsilas la aŭtoro de Esperanto." Ĉiun ideon, kiu ne povas esti oportune esprimata per tiu materialo kiu troviĝas en la Fundamento de Esperanto, ĉiu havas la rajton esprimi en tia maniero kiun li trovas la plej ĝusta, tiel same kiel estas farate en ĉiu alia lingvo. Sed pro plena unueco de la lingvo, al ĉiuj Esperantistoj estas rekomendate imitadi kiel eble plej multe tiun stilon kiu troviĝas en la verkoj de la kreinto de Esperanto, kiu la plej multe laboris por kaj en Esperanto, kaj la plej bone konas ĝian spiriton. 4. Esperanto has no personal law-giver and depends upon no particular person. All opinions and works of the creator of Esperanto have, like the opinions and works of any other Esperantist, an absolutely private character, and are binding upon nobody. The sole foundation of the Esperanto language, which is once for all binding upon all Esperantists, is the little work Fundamento de Esperanto, in which no one has the right to make any change. If any one departs from the rules and models given in the said work, he can never justify himself with the words "such is the wish or advice of the author of Esperanto." In the case of any idea which cannot be conveniently expressed by means of that material which is contained in the Fundamento de Esperanto, every Esperantist

5. Esperantisto estas nomata ĉiu persono kiu scias kaj uzas la lingvon Esperanto, tute egale por kiaj celoj li ĝin uzas. Apartenado al ia aktiva societo Esperantista por ĉiu Esperantisto estas rekomendinda, sed ne deviga. 5. The name of Esperantist is given to every person who knows and uses the Esperanto language, no matter for what ends he uses it. Membership of some active Esperanto society is to be recommended for every Esperantist, but this is not compulsory.

By the wise provision of Article 4, that the entire grammar and framework of Esperanto, as contained within one small book of a few pages, is absolutely unchangeable, the future of the language is secured. The Fundamento also contains enough root words to express all ordinary ideas. Henceforth the worst thing that can happen to Esperanto by way of adulteration is that some authors may use too many foreign words. The only practical check upon this, of course, is the penalty of becoming incomprehensible. But as men are on the whole reasonable, and as the only object of writing in Esperanto presumably is to appeal to an Esperantist international public, this check should be sufficient to prevent the use of any word that usage is not tending to consecrate. A certain latitude of expansion must be allowed to every language, to enable it to move with the times; but beyond this, surely few would have any interest in foisting into their discourse words which their hearers or readers would not be likely to understand, and those few would probably belong to the class who do the same thing in using their mother-tongue. No special legislation is needed to meet their case.

For a few years (1901–1905) the publishing house of Hachette had the monopoly of official Esperanto publications, and no work published elsewhere could find place in the "Kolekto Esperanto aprobita de D-ro Zamenhof." But at the first congress Zamenhof announced that he had given up even this control, and Esperanto is now a free language.

The official authority, which deals with all matters relating to the language itself, is the Lingvo Komitato (Language Committee). It was instituted at the first congress, and consists of persons appointed for their special competence in linguistic matters. The original members numbered ninety-nine, and represented the following twenty-eight countries: Austria, Belgium, Brazil, Bulgaria, Canada, Chili, Denmark, Finland, France, Germany, Great Britain, Greece, Holland, Hungary, Iceland, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Norway, Persia, Peru, Poland, Portugal, Russia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, and the United States.

This committee decides upon its own organization and procedure. In practice it selects from among the points submitted to it by Esperantists those worthy of consideration, and propounds them to its members by means of circulars. It then appoints a competent person or small committee to report upon the answers received. Decisions are made upon the result of the voting in the members' replies to the circulars, as analyzed and tabulated in the report. The functions of the committee do not include the making of any alteration whatever in the Esperanto part of the Fundamento de Esperanto, which is equally sacrosanct for it and for all Esperantists. But there is much to be done in correcting certain faulty translations of the fundamental Esperanto roots into national languages, in defining their exact meaning and giving their authorized equivalent in fresh languages, into which they were not originally translated. Also the constantly growing output of grammars and instruction books of all kinds in every country, to say nothing of dictionaries, which are very important, has to be carefully watched, in order that errors may be pointed out and corrected before they have time to take root.

Thus the Lingva Komitato is in no sense an academy or legislative body, having for object to change or improve the language; it is the duly constituted and widely representative authority, which watches the spread and development of the language, maintaining its purity, and helping with judicious guidance.

From this sketch it ought to be clear that Esperanto is no wild-cat scheme of enthusiasts or faddists, but a wisely organized attempt to wipe out the world's linguistic arrears. Its aim is to bring progress in oral and written communication into line with the progress of material means of communication and of science.

VIII

present state of esperanto: (a) general; (b) in england

(a) General

The first question usually asked is, "How many Esperantists are there?" The answer is, "Nobody knows." The most diverse estimates have been made, but none are based on any reliable method of computation. In the Histoire de la langue universelle, which appeared in 1903 and is written throughout in an impartial and scientific spirit, 50,000 was tentatively given as a fairly safe estimate. That was before the days of the international congresses, and since then the cause has been advancing by leaps and bounds. Not a month passes without its crop of new clubs and classes, and the pace is becoming fast and furious.

A marked change has been noticeable of late in the press of the leading countries. It is becoming a rare thing now to see Esperanto treated as a form of madness, and the days of contemptuous silence are passing away. Esperanto doings are now fairly, fully, and accurately reported. The tone of criticism is sometimes favourable, sometimes patronizing, sometimes hostile; but it is generally serious. It is coming to be recognized that Esperanto is a force to be reckoned with; it cannot be laughed off. One or two rivals, indeed, are getting a little noisy. They are mostly one-man (not to say one-horse) shows, and they do not like to see Esperanto going ahead like steam. High on the mountain-side they sit in cold isolation, and gaze over the rich fertile plains of Esperanto, rapidly becoming populous as the immigrants rush in and stake out their claims in the fair "no-man's land."1 And it makes them feel bad, these others! "Jeshurun waxed fat," they cry; "pride goes before a fall, remember Volapük!" The Esperantists remember Volapük, close their ranks, and sweep on.

1"Nenies propraĵo." Esp. Deklaracio, Art. 3.

Another good criterion besides the press is the sale of books. Large editions are going off everywhere, especially, it would seem, in America, where the folk have a habit, once they have struck a business proposition, of running it for all it is worth. "Let her go! give her hell!" is the word, and "the boys" are just now getting next to Esperanto to beat the band.

The British Esperanto Association's accounts show a very steady increase in the sale of literature. Considering that it sells books at trade prices, that hardly any of them are priced at more than a few pence, and none above a shilling or two, the sums realized from sale of books in some months are astonishing, and represent a large and increasing spread of interest among the public. Owing to the low prices, the profit on books is of course not great; but, such as it is, it all goes to help the cause. The association is now registered as a non-profit-making society under the law of 1867, with no share capital and no dividends.

As regards official recognition, good progress is being made in England (see below); but if the language is anywhere adopted universally in government schools, it will certainly be first in France. (For an account of the present state of this question, which is at present before the French Permanent Educational Commission, see Part I., chap. vi.). Dr. Zamenhof has been decorated by the French Government, and Esperanto is already taught in many French schools. For purposes of education France is divided into districts, called ressorts d'Académie, within each of which there is a complete educational ladder from the primary schools to the university which is the culmination of each. The official head of an important district is Rector Boirac, head of the Dijon University. He is one of the most distinguished of the Esperantists, and is the leading spirit at the congresses and on the Lingva Komitato. He has done much for Esperanto in the schools of his district, and under the guidance of men of his calibre Esperanto is making serious progress in France. (For lists of university professors favourable to an international language, see Part I., chap. vi.).

In Germany one of the foremost men of science of his time, Prof. Ostwald, of Leipzig, is an ardent advocate of the international language. He recently was lent for a time to Harvard University, U.S.A., and while there gave a great impetus to the study of Esperanto. He also spoke in its favour at Aberdeen last year, on the occasion of the opening of the new University buildings.

Apropos of the interchange between different countries of professors and other teachers, which has to some extent been already tried between America and Germany, it is curious to note the attitude of Prof. Hermann Diels, Rector of the Berlin University. He is a great supporter of the extension of this interchange, which also has the approbation of the Kaiser, who attended formally the inaugural lecture of one of the American professors, to mark his approbation. Prof. Diels commented on the fact that diversity of language was a grave obstacle; but though he seems before to have been a champion of popularized Latin, he now declares himself strongly against any artificial language,1 and advocates the use of English, French, and German. This is a modified form of the old Max Müller proposal, that all serious scientific work should be published in one of six languages. It does not seem a very convincing attitude to take up, because it ignores the facts: (1) that the actual trend of the world is the other way—towards inclusion of fresh national languages among the Kultursprachen, not towards accentuation of the predominance of these three; (2) that the increase of specialization and new studies at universities is leaving less and less time for mastering several difficult languages merely as means to other branches of study. Why should everybody have to learn English, French, and German?

1Herr Diels quaintly finds that Esperanto has only one gender—the feminine! Surely an ultra-Shavian obsession of femininity. It is perhaps some distinction to out-Shaw Bernard Shaw in any line.

For the rest, Esperanto is now beginning to take hold in Germany. The Germans have, as a general rule, open minds for this kind of problem, and are trained to take objective views in linguistic matters on the scientific merits of the case. The reason why they have been somewhat backward hitherto in the Esperanto movement is no doubt their disappointment at the failure of Volapük, which they had done much to promote. But now that, in spite of this special drawback, the first steps have been made, and clubs and papers are beginning to spring up again, everything points to powerful co-operation from Germany in the future.

In Switzerland progress has been enormous since the Geneva Congress of 1906. Many clubs and classes are already formed or in process of formation, and university men are supporting the movement. In one respect the Swiss are now in the van of the Esperantist world: they have just started a newspaper, Esperanto, the prospectus of which declares that it will no longer treat the language as an end in itself, or make propaganda; it will run on the lines of an ordinary weekly, merely using Esperanto as a means, inasmuch as it is the language of the paper.

The well-known Swiss veteran philosopher Ernst Naville wrote to the Geneva Congress that for thirty years he had regarded the introduction of an international language as a necessity, owing to the advance of civilization, and the day of realization of this object would be one of the greatest dates of history.

It is impossible to go through all the countries of Europe in detail. It is probable that the greatest numbers of Esperantists are still to be found among the Slav peoples. The language first took root in their midst, and was spread far and wide by a distinguished group of Slav writers.

Outside Europe, Esperanto is making great strides in the British Empire, Japan, and America. There are now Esperantist clubs in various parts of India, New Zealand, Australia, Canada, in Malta, Singapore, etc. Dr. Pollen, C.I.E., President of the British Esperanto Association, has just been touring in India, in the interests of the language. Among many satisfactory results is the guarantee of handsome sums towards the guarantee fund of the coming Cambridge Congress by several native rulers, among others the Mir of Khairpur, the Raja of Lunawada, the Nawab of Radhanpur, and the Diwan of Palanpur.

In New Zealand, an enterprising pioneer country in many departments, the Prime Minister, Sir Joseph Ward, is favourable. Not long ago he made a speech advocating the introduction of Esperanto into the public schools of the colony.

In America big Esperantist societies and classes have sprung up with amazing rapidity during the last year. Several universities now hold Esperanto classes; the Boston Massachusetts Institute of Technology has more than 100 students in its Esperanto class, and, among schools, the famous Latin School of Roxbury has led the way with over fifty pupils under Prof. Lowell. The press is devoting a large amount of attention to Esperanto, and many journals of good standing are favourable. The North American Review has taken up the language. It printed articles in December and January by Dr. Zamenhof and Prof. Macloskie of Princeton, and followed them up by courses of lessons. It supplies Esperanto literature to its readers at cost price, and reports that evidences of interest "have been many and multiply daily."

Among university supporters are Profs. Huntington and Morse of Harvard, Prof. Viles, Ohio State University, Prof. Borgerhoff, Western Reserve University, Prof. Macloskie of Princeton, etc. On the other hand, Prof. Hugo Munsterberg of Harvard is attacking Esperanto. His is a good example of the literary man's uninformed criticism of the universal language project, because it is based upon an old criticism by a German professor (Prof. Hamel) of the defunct Volapük. Why Esperanto should be condemned for the sins of Volapük is not obvious.

One other useful aspect of Esperanto remains to be mentioned—the establishment of consulships to give linguistic and other assistance. Many towns have already their Esperanto consuls, and in a few years there ought to be a haven of refuge for Esperantists abroad nearly everywhere.

The following list of principal Esperanto organs will give some idea of the diffusion of the language. The list makes no pretence of being complete.

Principal general reviews:

Internacia Scienca Revuo.

La Revuo (which enjoys the constant collaboration of Dr. Zamenhof).

Tra la Mondo. (This review has recently held, by the collaboration of its readers, an international inquiry into education in all countries. The report is appearing in the February number and following. This is a good example of the sort of international work which can be done for and by readers in every corner of the globe.)

Other organs:

The British Esperantist.

Lingvo Internacia (the doyen of Esperanto journals).

L' Espérantiste (France).

Germana Esperantisto.

Eĥo (Germany).

Svisa Espero.

Esperanto (Switzerland).

Juna Esperantisto (Switzerland).

Esperanto (Hungary).

Helpa Lingvo (Denmark).

La Suno Hispana (Spain).

Idealo (Sicily).

La Alĝera Stelo (Algiers: has recently ceased to appear).

La Belga Sonorilo (Belgium).

Ruslanda Esperantisto (Russia).

Pola Esperantisto (Poland).

Bulgara Esperantisto (Bulgaria).

Lorena Esperantisto.

Esperantisten (Sweden).

Časopis Českych Esperantista (Bohemia).

L'Amerika Esperantisto (central American organ, supported by groups in New York, Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia, Seattle, Los Angeles).

La Lumo (Montreal).

Antaŭen Esperantistoj (Peru).

Brazila Revuo Esperantista (Brazil).

La Japana Esperantisto (Japan).

La Pioniro (India).

Espero Katolika.

Foto Revuo.

Socia Revuo.

Unua Paŝo.

Espero Pacifista.

Eksport Ĵurnalo.

Esperanta Ligilo (for the blind—in Braille).

The New International Review (Oxford) recently presented a four-page Esperanto supplement to its subscribers for some months.

(b) Present State of Esperanto in England

The most practical way of spreading Esperanto is to get it taught in the schools, so it will be best to state first what has been done so far in this matter.

Esperanto has been officially accepted by the local educational authorities in London, Liverpool, Manchester, and other provincial towns; that is to say, it has been recognized as a subject to be taught in evening classes, if there is sufficient demand. At present there are classes under the London County Council at the following schools: Queen's Road, Dalston (Commercial Centre); Blackheath Road (Commercial Centre); Plough Road, Clapham Junction (Commercial Centre); Rutland Street, Mile End (Commercial Centre); Myrdle Street, Commercial Road; and Hugh Myddleton School, Clerkenwell. Other classes held in London are at the Northern Polytechnic, Holloway Road; St. Bride's Institute, Bride Lane; City of London College, White Street; Co-operative Institute, Plumstead; Working Men's College, St. Pancras; Stepney Library, Mile End Road; and a large class for teachers is held at the Cusack Institute, Moorfields.

At Keighley, Yorks, the Board of Education has recognized the language as a grant-earning subject. Various local authorities give facilities, some paying the teacher, others supplying a room. Among these are Kingston-on-Thames (Technical Institute), Rochdale, Ipswich (Technical School), Grimsby, etc.

It does not appear that Esperanto is yet taught in any public elementary school; educational officials, inspectors, etc., have yet to learn about the language. Many private schools now teach it, and at least one private girls' school of the best type teaches it as a regular subject, alongside French and German. It has been impossible to get any return or figures as to the extent to which it has penetrated into private and proprietary schools. The Northern Institute of Languages, perhaps the most important commercial school in the North of England, held an Esperanto class with sixty-three students.

Two large examining bodies—the London Chamber of Commerce and the Examination Board of the National Union of Teachers—have included Esperanto in their subjects for commercial certificates. At the London Chamber of Commerce examination in May 1906 the candidates were as follows:

Entries. Passes.

Teacher's diploma 6 1

Senior 15 15

Junior 109 67

130 83

There is now a Teachers' Section of the British Esperanto Association with an Education Committee, which is carrying on active work in promoting Esperanto in the schools.

At an official reception of French teachers in London last year by the Board of Education, Mr. Lough, speaking on behalf of the Board, made a sympathetic reference to Esperanto. The incident is amusingly told in Esperanto by M. Boirac, Rector of Dijon University and a noted Esperantist, who was amongst the French professors. Not understanding English, he was growing rather sleepy during a long speech, when the word "Esperanto" gave him a sudden shock. He thought the English official was poking fun at him, but was relieved to hear that the allusion had been sympathetic.

At this year's meeting of the Modern Language Society at Durham, the Warden of Durham University, Dean Kitchin, in welcoming the society to the town and university, gave considerable prominence in his speech to Esperanto, remarking that, to judge by its rapid growth and the sanity of its reformed grammar, one might easily believe that it will win general use.1 Such references in high places illustrate the tendency to admit that there may be something in this international language scheme.

1He continued: "To me it seems that Esperanto in vocabulary and grammar is a miracle of simplicity."

There are now (May 1907) seventy local Esperanto societies in Great Britain on the list of societies affiliated to the British Esperanto Association, and often several new ones are formed in a month. The first were Keighley and London, founded 1902. Seven more were formed in 1903; and since the beginning of 1906 no less than thirty-six. Besides the members of these there are a great many learners in classes and individual Esperantists who belong to no affiliated group. Every month one reads lists of lectures given in the most diverse places, very often with the note that a local club or class resulted, or that a large sale of Esperanto literature took place. Sometimes the immediate number of converts is surprising: e.g. on April 22, 1907, after a lecture on Esperanto at the Technical College, Darlington, seventy-eight students entered their names for a week's course of lessons to be held in the college three times a day.

There are now Esperanto consuls in the following towns: Bradford, Chester, Edinburgh, Harrogate, Hull, Hunslet, Keighley, Leeds, Liverpool, Nottingham, Oakworth, Plymouth, Rhos, Southampton, and St. Helens. Birmingham has within the last few months taken up the cause with its usual energy, and now has a large class.

In England the universities have been slow to show interest in Esperanto; but now that Cambridge has been selected as the seat of the Congress in 1907, the university is granting every facility, as also is the town council, in use of rooms and the like, and some professors and other members of the university are cordially co-operating. Last October Prof. Skeat, one of the fathers of English philology, took the chair at a preliminary meeting, and made a speech very favourable to Esperanto. He said, "I think Esperanto is a very good movement, and I hope it will succeed." The subject of Esperanto is being well put before the teachers of Cambridgeshire, and the railway companies all over the country and abroad are granting special fares for the congress.1 It is probable that the overwhelming demonstration of the possibilities of this international language will open the eyes of many who have hitherto been indifferent, and that the movement will enter on a new phase of expansion in England, and through the example of England, which is closely watched abroad, in the world at large.

1It is a striking fact that six weeks before the opening of the congress 700 members have already secured their tickets.

IX

lessons to be drawn from the foregoing history

The extent to which more or less artificial languages are already used in various parts of the world for the transaction of interracial business, and the persistent preoccupation of thinkers with the idea for the last 200 years, culminating in the production of a great number of schemes in our own times, show that there is a demand for an international language, more perfect than has yet been available and universally valid. The list of languages proposed (see Part II., chap. ii.) by no means represents all that has been written and thought upon the subject. Many more have proposed solutions of the question, beginning with such men as Becher (1661), Kirchner (1665), Porele (1667), Upperdorf (1679), Müller (1681), Lobkowitz (1687), Besuier (1684), Solbrig (1725), Taboltzafo (1772), and continuing down to the present day. The striking success of Volapük and Esperanto in gaining, within a few years of publication, many thousands of ardent supporters has also been a revelation. It has proved most conclusively that there is a demand. If so many people in all lands have been willing to give up time and money to learning and promoting a language from which they could not expect to reap anything like full benefit for many years, what must be its value when ripened to yield full profits, i.e. when universally adopted?

There are two main obstacles to universal adoption. The first is common to all projects of reform—the force of inertia. It is hard to win practical support for a new thing, even when assent is freely given in theory to its utility. The second is peculiar to Esperanto, and consists in the discrediting of the cause of international language through the failure of Volapük. Good examples of its operation are afforded by the slowness of Germany to recognize Esperanto, and by the criticism of Prof. Münsterberg (formerly of Freiburg, Germany) in America, based as it is on an old German criticism of Volapük, and transferred at second-hand to Esperanto.

Hence every effort should be made to induce critics of Esperanto to examine the language before pronouncing judgment—to criticise the real thing, instead of some bogy of their imagination.

One bogy which has caused much misdirected criticism is raised by misunderstanding of the word "universal" in the phrase universal language. It is necessary to insist upon the fact that "universal" means universally adopted and everywhere current as an auxiliary to the mother-tongue for purposes of international communication. It does not mean a universal language for home consumption as a substitute for national language. In Baconian language, this bogy may be called an "idol of the market-place," since it rests upon confusion of terms.

Pursuing the Baconian classification of error, we may call the literary man's nightmare of the invasion of literature by the universal language an "idol of the theatre." The lesson of experience is, that it is well not to alienate the powerful literary interest justly concerned in upholding the dignity and purity of national speech by making extravagant claims on behalf of the auxiliary language. It is capable of conveying matter or content in any department of human activity with great nicety; but where it is a question of reproducing by actual translation the form or manner of some masterpiece of national literature, it will not, by nature of its very virtues, give a full idea of the rich play of varied synonymic in the original.

The great practical lesson of Volapük is, that alteration brings dissension, and dissension brings death. A universal language must be in essentials, like Esperanto, inviolable. If ever the time comes for modification in any essential point, it will be after official international recognition in the schools. Gradual reforms could then, if necessary, be introduced by authority, as in the case of the recent French "Tolérations," or the German reforms in orthography.

So long as the world is divided among rival great powers, no national language can be recognized as universal by them all. It is therefore a choice between an artificial language or nothing. As regards the structure of the artificial language itself, history shows clearly that it must be a posteriori, not a priori. It must select its constituent roots and its spoken sounds on the principle of maximum of internationality, and its grammar must be a simplification of natural existing grammar. On the other hand, a recent tendency to brand as "arbitrary" and a priori everything that makes for regularity, if it is not directly borrowed, is to be resisted. It is possible to overdo even the best of rules by slavish and unintelligent application. Thus it is urged by extremists that some of the neatest labour-saving devices of Esperanto are arbitrary, and therefore to be condemned.

Take the Esperanto suffix -in-, which denotes the feminine.

" " " prefix mal- " " " opposite.

" " " suffix -ig- " " causative action.

Given the roots bov- (ox); fort- (strong); grand- (big): Esperanto forms bovino (cow); malforta (weak); grandigi (to augment); malgrandigi (to diminish).

These words are arbitrary, because not borrowed from national language. Let the public decide for itself whether it prefers a language which insists (in order not to be "arbitrary") upon borrowing fresh roots to express these ideas. Let any one who has learnt Latin, French, and German try how long it takes him to think of the masculine of vacca, vache, Kuh; the opposite of fortis, fort, stark; the Latin, French, and German ways of expressing "to make big" and "to make small." The issue is hardly doubtful.

Again, the languages upon whose vocabulary and grammar the international language is to be based must be Aryan (Indo-European). This is a practical point. The non-European peoples will consent to learn "simplified Aryan" just as they are adopting Aryan civilization; but the converse is not true. The Europeans will go without an international language rather than learn one based to some extent upon Japanese or Mongolian. The only prescription for securing a large field is—greatest ease for greatest number, with a handicap in favour of Europeans, to induce them to enter.

PART III

THE CLAIMS OF ESPERANTO TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY: CONSIDERATIONS BASED ON THE STRUCTURE OF THE LANGUAGE ITSELF

I

esperanto is scientifically constructed, and fulfils the natural tendency in evolution of language

All national languages are full of redundant and overlapping grammatical devices for expressing what could be equally well expressed by a single uniform device. They bristle with irregularities and exceptions. Their forms and phrases are largely the result of chance and partial survival, arbitrary usage, and false analogy. It is obvious that a perfectly regular artificial language is far easier to learn. But the point to be insisted on here is, that artificial simplification of language is no fantastic craze, but merely a perfect realization of a natural tendency, which the history of language shows to exist.

At first sight this may seem to conflict with what was said in Part I., chap. x. But there is no real inconsistency. As pointed out there, there is no reason to think that Nature, left to herself, would ever produce a universal language, or that a simpler language would win, in a struggle with more complex ones, on account of its simplicity. But this does not prevent there being a real natural tendency to simplification—though in natural languages this tendency is constantly thwarted, and can never produce its full effect.

How, then, is this tendency to simplification shown in the history of Aryan (Indo-European) languages? For it must be emphasized that for the purposes of this discussion history of language means history of Aryan language.

The Aryan group of languages includes Sanskrit and its descendants in the East, Greek, Latin, all modern Romance languages (French, Italian, Spanish, etc.), all Germanic languages (English, German, Scandinavian, etc.), all Slav languages (Russian, Polish, etc.)—in fact, all the principal languages of Europe, except Hungarian, Basque, and Finnish. The main tendency of this group of languages has been, technically speaking, to become analytic instead of synthetic—that is, to abandon complex systems of inflection by means of case and verbal endings, and to substitute prepositions and auxiliaries. Thus, taking Latin as the type of old synthetic Aryan language, its declension of nouns and conjugation of verbs present an enormously greater complexity of forms than are employed by English, the most advanced of the modern analytical languages, to express the same grammatical relations. For example:

Nom. mensă = a table. mensae = tables.

Acc. mensam = a table. mensas = tables.

Gen. mensae = of a table. mensarum = of tables.

Dat. mensae = to or for a table. mensis = to or for tables.

Abl. mensā = by, with, or from a table. mensis = by, with, or from tables.

By the time you have learnt these various Latin case endings (-ă, -am, -ae, -ae, -ā; -ae, -as, -arum, -is, -is), you have only learnt one out of many types of declension. Passing on to the second Latin type or declension, e.g. dominus = master, you have to learn a whole fresh set of case endings (-us, -um, -i, -o, -o; -i, -os, -orum, -is, -is) to express the same grammatical relations; whereas in English you apply the same set of prepositions to the word "master" without change, except for a uniform -s in the plural. As there are a great many types of Latin noun, the simplification in English, effected by using invariable prepositions without inflection, is very great. It is just the same with the verb. Take the English regular verb "to love": the four forms love, loves, loving, loved, about exhaust the number of forms to be learned (omitting the second person singular, which is practically dead); the rest is done by auxiliaries, which are the same for each verb. Latin, on the other hand, possesses very numerous forms of the verb, and the whole set of numerous forms varies for each type of verb. In the aggregate the simplification in English is enormous. This process of simplification is common to all the modern Aryan languages, but they have not all made equal progress in carrying it out.

Now, it is a remarkable fact, and a very suggestive one for those who seek to trace the connexion between the course of a nation's language and its history, that the degree of progress made by the languages of Europe along their common line of evolution does on the whole, as a matter of historical fact, correspond with the respective degree of material, social, and economic advancement attained by the nations that use them. Take this question of case endings. Russia has retained a high degree of inflection in her language, having seven cases with distinct endings. These seven cases are common to the Slav languages in general; two of them (Sorbish and Slovenish) have, like Gothic and Greek, a dual number, a feature which has long passed away from the languages of Western Europe. Again, the Slav tongues decline many more of the numerals than most Aryan languages. Germany, which, until the recent formation of the German Empire, was undoubtedly a century slow by West European time, still has four cases; or, in view of the moribund dative, should we rather say three and a half? France and England manage their affairs in a universal nominative1 (if one can give any name to a universal case), as far as nouns, adjectives, and articles are concerned. Their pronouns offer the sole survival of declension by case endings. Here France, the runner-up, is a trifle slow in the possession of a real, live dative case of the pronoun (acc. le, la, les; dat. lui, leur). England wins by a neck with one universal oblique case (him, her, them). This insidious suggestion is not meant to endanger the entente cordiale; even perfidious Albion would not convict the French nation of arrested development on the side-issue of pronominal atavism. Mark Twain says he paid double for a German dog, because he bought it in the dative case; but no nation need be damned for a dative. We have no use for the coup de Jarnac.

1Though historically, of course, the Low Latin universal case, from which many French, and therefore English, words are derived, was the accusative.

But consider the article. Here, if anywhere, is a test of the power of a language to move with the times. For some reason or other (the real underlying causes of these changes in language needs are obscure) modern life has need of the article, though the highly civilized Romans did very well without it. So strong is this need that, in the middle ages, when Latin was used as an international language by the learned, a definite article (hic or τό) was foisted into the language. How is it with the modern world? The Slavs have remained in this matter at the point of view of the ancient world. They are articleless. Germany has a cumbrous three-gender, four-case article; France rejoices in a two-gender, one-case article with a distinct form for the plural. The ripe product of tendency, the infant heir of the eloquent ages, to whose birth the law of Aryan evolution groaned and travailed until but now, the most useful, if not the "mightiest," monosyllable "ever moulded by the lips of man," the "the," one and indeclinable, was born in the Anglo-Saxon mouth, and sublimed to its unique simplicity by Anglo-Saxon progress.

The general law of progress in language could be illustrated equally well from the history of genders as exhibited in various languages. We are here only dealing with Aryan languages, but, merely by way of illustration, it may be mentioned that a primitive African language offers seven "genders," or grammatical categories requiring the same kind of concords as genders. In Europe we pass westward from the three genders of Germany, curving through feminine and masculine France (place aux dames!) to monogendric Britain. Only linguistic arbitrary gender is here referred to; this has nothing to do with suffragettes or "defeminization."

Again, take agreement of adjectives. In the ancient world, whether Greek, Latin, Gothic, or Anglo-Saxon, adjectives had to follow nouns through all the mazes of case and number inflection, and had also to agree in gender. In this matter German has gone ahead of French, in that its adjectives do not submit to change of form in order to indicate agreement, when they are used predicatively (e.g. "ein guter Mann"; "der gute Mann"; but "der Mann ist gut"). But English has distanced the field, and was alone in at the death of the old concords, which moistened our childhood's dry Latin with tears.

Whatever test be applied, the common tendency towards simplification, from synthesis to analysis, is there; and in its every manifestation English has gone farthest among the great literary languages. It is necessary to add this qualification—"among the great literary languages"—because, in this process of simplification, English has a very curious rival, and possibly a superior, in the Taal of South Africa. The curious thing is that a local dialect should have shown itself so progressive, seeing that the distinctive note of most dialects is conservatism, their chief characteristics being local survivals.1 It is probable that the advanced degree of simplification attained by the Taal is the result of deliberate and conscious adaptation of their language by the original settlers to the needs of the natives. Just as Englishmen speak Pidgin-English to coolies in the East, so the old trekkers must have removed irregularities and concords from their Dutch, so that the Kaffirs could understand it. If this is so, it is another illustration of the essential feature that an international language must possess. Even the Boer farmers, under the stress of practical necessity, grasped the need of simplification.

1Of course a difference must be expected between a dialect spoken by a miscellaneous set of settlers in a foreign land and one in use as an indigenous growth from father to son. But the habitants, as the French settlers in Quebec are called, who, like the Boers, are mainly a pastoral and primitive people, have retained an antiquated form of French, with no simplification.

The natural tendency towards elimination of exceptions is also strongly marked in the speech of the uneducated. Miss Loane, who has had life-long experience of nursing work among the poorest classes in England, tabulates (The Queen's Poor, p. 112) the points in which at the present day the language of the poor differs from that of the middle and upper classes. Under the heading of grammar she singles out specially superabundance of negatives, and then proceeds: "Other grammatical errors. These are nearly all on the lines of simplification. It is correct to say 'myself, herself, yourself, ourselves.' Very well: let us complete the list with 'hisself' and 'theirselves.' Most verbs are regular: why not all? Let us say 'comed' and 'goed,' 'seed' and 'bringed' and 'teached.'" Miss Loane probably exaggerates with her "nearly all." For instance, as regards the uneducated form of the past tense of "to come," surely "come" is a commoner form than "comed." Similarly the illiterate for "I did" is "I done," not "I doed," which would be the regular simplification. But the natural tendency is certainly there, and it is strong.

Precisely the same tendency is observable in the present development of literary languages. They have all inherited many irregular verbal conjugations from the past as part of their national property, and these, by the nature of the case, comprise most of the commonest words in the language, because the most used is the most subject to abbreviation and modification. But these irregular types of inflection have long been dead, in the sense that they are fossilized survivals, incapable of propagating their kind. When a new word is admitted into the language, it is conjugated regularly. Thus, though we still say "I go—I went; I run—I ran," because we cannot help ourselves, when we are free to choose we say, "I cycle—I cycled; I wire—I wired"; just as the French say "télégraphier," and not "télégraphir," -oir, or -re.

Considering the strength of this stream of natural tendency, it seems a most natural thing to start again, for international purposes, with a form of simplified Aryan language, and, being free from the dead hand of the past, to set up the simplest forms of conjugation, etc., and make every word in the language conform to them.

Indeed, this question of artificial simplification of language has of late years emerged from the scholar's study and become a matter of practical politics, even as regards the leading national languages. Within the last few years there have been official edicts in France and Germany, embodying reforms either in spelling or grammar, with the sole object of simplifying. The latest attempt at linguistic jerrymandering has been the somewhat autocratic document of President Roosevelt. He has found that there are limits to what the American people will stand even from him, and it seems likely to remain a dead letter. But there is not the smallest doubt that the English language is heavily handicapped by its eccentric vowel pronunciation and its spelling that has failed to keep pace with the development of the language. The same is true, though in a lesser degree, of the spelling and pronunciation of French. Since the whole theory of spelling—and, until a few hundred years ago, its practice too—consisted in nothing else but an attempt to represent simply and accurately the spoken word, most unprejudiced people would admit that simplification is in principle advisable. But the practical difficulties in the way of simplification of a national language are almost prohibitive. It is hard to see that there are any such obstacles in the way of the adoption of a simple and perfectly phonetic international artificial language. We dislike change because it is change, and new things because they are new. We go on suffering from a movable Easter, which most practically inconveniences great numbers of people and interests, and seems to benefit no one at all, simply because it is no one's business to change it. If once the public could be got to examine seriously the case for an artificial international language, they could hardly fail to recognize what an easy, simple, and natural thing it is, and how soon it would pay off all capital sunk in its universal adoption, and be pure profit.

Note

This seems the best place to deal with a criticism of Esperanto which has an air of plausibility. It is urged that Esperanto does not carry the process of simplification far enough, and that in two important points it shows a retrograde tendency to revert to a more primitive stage of language, already left behind by the most advanced natural languages. These points are:

(1) The possession of an accusative case. (2) The agreement of adjectives.

Now, it must be borne in mind that the business of a universal language is, not to adhere pedantically to any philological theory, not to make a fetish of principle, not to strive after any theoretical perfection in the observance of certain laws of construction, but—simply to be easy. The principle of simplification is an admirable one, because it furthers this end, and for this reason only. The moment it ceases to do so, it must give way before a higher canon, which demands that an international language shall offer the greatest ease, combined with efficiency, for the greatest number. The fact that a scientific study of language reveals a strong natural tendency towards simplification, and that this tendency has in certain languages assumed certain forms, is not in itself a proof that an artificial language is bound to follow the historical lines of evolution in every detail. It will follow them just so far as, and no farther than, they conduce to its paramount end—greatest ease for greatest number, plus maximum of efficiency. In constructing an international language, the question then becomes, in each case that comes up for decision: How far does the proposed simplification conduce to ease without sacrificing efficiency? Does the cost of retention (reckoned in terms of sacrifice of ease) of the unsimplified form outweigh the advantages (reckoned in terms of efficiency) it confers, and which would be lost if it was simplified out of existence? Let us then examine briefly the two points criticised, remembering that the main function of the argument from history of language is, not to deduce therefrom hard-and-fast rules for the construction of international language, but to remove the unreasoning prejudice of numerous objectors, who cannot pardon the international language for being "artificial," i.e. consciously simplified.

(1) The Accusative Case

This is formed in Esperanto by adding the letter -n. This one form is universal for nouns, adjectives, and pronouns singular and plural. Ex.:

Nom. bona patro (good father), plural, bonaj patroj.

Acc. bonan patron " bonajn patrojn.

Suppose one were to suppress this -n.

(a) Cost of retention of unsimplified form: Remembering to add this -n.

(b) Advantages of retention: The flexibility of the language is enormously increased; the words can be put in any order without obscuring or changing the sense. Ex.:

La patro amas sian filon = the father loves his son. Sian filon amas la patro (in English "his son loves the father" has a different sense). Amas la patro sian filon (= the father loves his son, but...). La patro sian filon amas. Sian filon la patro amas (= it is his son that the father loves).

In every case the Esperanto sentence is perfectly clear, the meaning is the same, but great scope is afforded for emphasis and shades of gradation. Further, every nation is enabled to arrange the words as suits it best, without becoming less intelligible to other nations. Readers of Greek and Latin know the enormous advantage of free word order. For purposes of rendering the spirit and swing of national works of literature in Esperanto, and for facilitating the writing of verse, the accusative is a priceless boon. Is the price too high?

N.B.—Those people who are most apt to omit the -n of the accusative, having no accusative in their own language, generally make their meaning perfectly clear without it, because they are accustomed to indicate the objective case by the order in which they place their words. They make a mistake of Esperanto by omitting the -n, but they are understood, which is the essential.

(2) The Agreement of Adjectives

Adjectives in Esperanto agree with their substantives in number and case. Ex.: bona patro, bonan patron, bonaj patroj, bonajn patrojn.

Suppose one were to suppress agreement of adjectives.

(a) Cost of retention of agreement: Remembering to add -j for the plural and -n for the accusative.

(b) Advantages of retention: Greater clearness; conformity with the usage of the majority of languages; euphony.

Esperanto has wisely adopted full, vocalic, syllabic endings for words. Contrast Esp. bon‑o with French bon, Eng. good, Germ. gut. By this means Esperanto is not only rendered slower, more harmonious, and easier of comprehension; it is also able to denote the parts of speech clearly to eye and ear by their form. Thus final -o bespeaks a noun; -a, an adjective; -e, an adverb; -i, an infinitive, etc.

Now, since all adjectives end in syllabic -a, it is much harder to keep them uninflected than if they ended with a consonant like the Eng. "good." To talk about bona patroj would not only seem a hideous barbarism to all Latin peoples, whose languages Esperanto most resembles, but it would also offend the bulk of Northerners. After a very little practice it is really easier to say bonaj patroj than bona patroj. The assimilation of termination tempts the ear and tongue.

The grammar is also simplified. For if adjectives agreeing with nouns and pronouns expressed were invariable, it would probably be necessary to introduce special rules to meet the case of adjectives standing as nouns, or where the qualified word was suppressed.

Again, is the price too high compared to the advantages?

II

esperanto from an educational point of view—it will aid the learning of other languages and stimulate intelligence

(1) Esperanto takes a natural place at the beginning of the sequence of languages, upon which is founded the scheme of language-teaching in the Reform Schools of Germany, and in some of the more progressive English schools.

The principle involved in this scheme is that of orderly progression from the easier to the more difficult. Only one foreign language is begun at a time. The easiest language in the school curriculum is begun first. Enough hours per week are devoted to this language to allow of decent progress being made. When the pupils have a fair grip of the elements of one language, another is begun. The bulk of the school language-teaching hours are now devoted to the new language, and sufficient weekly hours are given to the language already learnt to avoid backsliding at least. Thus in a German school of the new type the linguistic hours are devoted in the lowest classes to the mother-tongue. When the pupils have some idea what language means, and have acquired some notion of grammar, they are given a school year or two of French. After this Latin is begun in the upper part of the school, and Greek at a corresponding interval after Latin.

Now, it is one of the commonest complaints of teachers in our secondary schools that they have to begin teaching Latin or French to boys who have no knowledge whatever of grammar. Fancy the hopelessness of trying to teach an English boy the construction of a Latin or French sentence when he does not know what a relative or demonstrative pronoun means! This is the fate of so many a master that quite a number of them resign themselves to giving up a good part of their French or Latin hour to endeavouring to imbue their flock with some notions of grammar in general. They naturally try to appeal to their boys through the medium of their own language. But those who have incautiously upset their class from the frying-pan of qui, quae, quod, into the fire of English demonstrative and relative pronouns get a foretaste of the fire that dieth not. Facilis descensus Averni. Happy if they do not lose heart, and step downward from the fire to ashes—reinforced with sackcloth.

"I contend that that 'that' that that gentleman said was right." This is the "abstract and brief chronicle" of their woes—sometimes, indeed, the epitaph of their pedagogical career, if they are too sickened of the Sisiphean task of trying to teach grammar on insufficient basis. And this use, or abuse, of the hardworked word "that" is only an extreme case which illustrates the difficulty of teaching grammar to babes, through the medium of a language honeycombed with synonyms, homonyms, exceptions, and other pitfalls (can you be honeycombed with a pitfall?)—a language which seems to take a perverse delight in breaking all its own rules and generally scoring off the beginner. And for the dull beginner, what language does not seem to conform to this type? Answer: Esperanto.

In other words, it would seem that, for the grinding of grammar and the advancement of sound learning in the initial stage, there is nothing like an absolutely uniform and regular language,1 a type tongue, something that corresponds in the linguistic hierarchy to Euclid or the first rules of arithmetic in the mathematical, something clear, consistent, self-evident, and of universal application.

1Cf. Sir Oliver Lodge: "It would certainly appear that for this purpose [i.e. educative language-learning for children] the fully inflected ancient languages are best and most satisfactory; if they were still more complete and regular, like Esperanto, they would be better still to begin with" (School Teaching and School Reform, p. 21: chapter on Curricula and Methods).

Take our sentence again: "I contend that that 'that' that that gentleman said was right." If our beginner has imbibed his first notions of grammar through the medium of a type language, in which a noun is always a noun, and is stamped as such by its form (this, by the way, is an enormous aid in making the thing clear to children); in which an adjective is always an adjective, and is stamped as such by its form; and so on through all the other parts of speech,—when the teacher comes to analyse the sentence given, he will be able to explain it by reference to the known forms of the regular key-language. He will point out that of the "thats": the first is the Esperanto ke (which is final, because ke never means anything else); the second is tiu (at once revealed by its form to be a demonstrative), the fourth kiu, and so on. As for the third "that," which is rather hard for a child to grasp, he will be able to make it into a noun in form by merely adding -o to the Esperanto equivalent for any "that" required. He will not be doing violence to the language; for Esperanto consists of roots, which habitually do duty as noun, verb, adjective, etc., according to the termination added. Those who know the value of the concrete and tangible in dealing with children will grasp the significance of the new possibilities that are thus for the first time opened up to language-teachers.

To sum up: Natural languages are all hard, and the beginner can never go far enough to get a rule fixed soundly in his mind without meeting exceptions which puzzle and confuse him. Esperanto is as clear, logical, and consistent as arithmetic, and, like arithmetic, depends more upon intelligence than upon memory work. If Esperanto were adopted as the first foreign language to be taught in schools, and all grammatical teaching were postponed until Esperanto had been begun, and then given entirely through the medium of Esperanto until a sound notion of grammatical rules and categories had been instilled, it would probably be found that the subsequent task of learning natural languages would be facilitated and abridged. From the very start it would be possible to prevent certain common errors and confusions, that tend to become engrained in juvenile minds by the fluctuating or contradictory usage of their own language, to their great let and hindrance in the subsequent stages of language-learning. The skeleton outline of grammatical theory with concrete examples afforded by Esperanto would shield against vitiating initial mistakes, in much the same way as the use of a scientific phonetic alphabet, when a foreign language is presented for the first time to the English beginner in written form, shields him against carrying over his native mixed vowel system to languages which use the same letters as English, but give quite a different value to them. In both cases1 the essentials of the new instrument of learning are the same—that it be of universal application, that it be sufficiently different from the mother-tongue or alphabet to prevent confusion by association of ideas, that each of the new forms or letters convey only one idea or sound respectively, and that this idea or sound be always and only conveyed by that form or letter.

1i.e. scientific regular type grammar and scientific regular phonetic alphabet.

(2) From a psychological point of view Esperanto would be a rewarding subject of study for children.

The above remarks on sequence of languages show that, by placing Esperanto first in the language curriculum, justice is done to the psychological maxim: from the easier to the harder, from the regular to the exceptional. It may further be argued (a) that Esperanto is educative in the real sense of the word, i.e. suitable for drawing out and developing the reasoning powers; (b) that it would act as a stimulus, and by its ease set a higher standard of attainment in language-learning.

(a) Amidst all the discussion of "educationists" about methods, curricula, sequence of studies, and the rest, one fundamental fact continues to face the teacher when he gets down to business; and that is, that he has got to make the taught think for themselves. In proportion as his teaching makes them contribute their share of effort will it be fruitful. This is, of course, the merest truism, sometimes dignified in the current pedagogical slang by the name of "self-activity," or the like. But whatever new bottles the theorists, and their extreme left wing the faddists, may choose to serve up our old wine in, the fact is there: children have got to be made to use their own brains. The eternal question that faces the teacher is, how to provide problems that children really can work out by using their own brains. The trouble about history, geography, English literature, and such subjects is that the subject-matter of the problems they offer for solution lies beyond the experience of the young, and to a large extent beyond their reasoning powers. In teaching all such subjects there is accordingly the perpetual danger that the real work done may degenerate into mere memory work, or parrot-like cramming of notes or dates.

The same difficulty is encountered in science teaching. Heuristic methods have been devised to meet the difficulty. Though they are no doubt psychologically sound, they tend to be very slow in results; hence the common jibe that a boy may learn as much by them in five years as he could learn out of a shilling text-book in a term.

The old argument that "mental gymnastics" are best supplied by Latin is sound to the extent that Latin really does furnish a perpetual series of small problems that have to be solved by the aid of grammar and dictionary, but which do involve real mental effort, since mere mechanical looking out of words does not suffice for their elucidation. But for various reasons, such as the remoteness of the ancient world in time, place, modes of thought, etc., Latin tends to be too hard and not interesting enough for the average boy. He gets discouraged, and develops a habit of only working enough to keep out of trouble with the school authorities, and is apt to leave school with an unintelligent attitude towards intellectual things in general. This is the result of early drudging at a subject in which progress is very slow, and which by its nature is uncongenial. The great desideratum is a linguistic subject which shall at once inculcate a feeling for language (German Sprachgefühl), and yet be easy enough to admit of rapid progress. Nothing keeps alive the quickening zest that makes learning fruitful like the consciousness of making rapid progress.

Hitherto arithmetic and Euclid have been the ideal subjects for providing the kind of problem required—one that can be worked out with certainty by the aid of rule and use of brain, without calling for knowledge or experience that the child cannot have. The facts are self-evident, and follow from principles, without involving any extraneous acquaintance with life or literature, and no deadening memory work is required. If only there were some analogous subject on the literary side, to give a general grip of principles, uncomplicated by any arbitrary element, what a boon it would be! and what a sound preparation for real and more advanced linguistic study for those who showed aptitude for this line! Arithmetic and Euclid both really depend upon common sense; but partly owing to their abstract nature, and partly because they are always classed as "mathematics," they seem to contain something repellent to many literary or linguistic types of mind.

With the invention of a perfectly regular and logically constructed language, a concrete embodiment of the chief principles of language structure, we have offered us for the first time the hitherto missing linguistic equivalent of arithmetic or Euclid. In a regular language, just because everything goes by rule, problems can be set and worked out analogous to sums in arithmetic and riders in Euclid. Given the necessary roots and rules, the learner can manufacture the necessary vocabulary and produce the answer with the same logical inevitability; and he has to use his brains to apply his rules, instead of merely copying words out of a dictionary, or depending upon his memory for them.

In this way all that part of language-study which tends to be dead weight in teaching the young is got rid of in one fell swoop, and this though the language taught and learnt is a highly developed instrument for reading, writing, speaking, and literary expression. This dead weight includes most of the unintelligent memorizing, all exceptions, all complicated systems of declension and conjugation, all irregular comparison of adjectives and adverbs, all syntactical subtleties (cf. the sequence of tenses, oratio obliqua, the syntax of subordinate clauses, in Latin; and the famous conditional sentences, with the no less notorious ου and μη in Greek), all conflicting and illogical uses of auxiliaries (cf. être and avoir in French, and sein and haben in German), besides a host of other old enemies. Some of these things of course are not wholly memory work, especially the syntax, which involves a real feeling for language. But these would be much better postponed until one easy foreign language has been learnt thoroughly. Every multilinguist knows that each foreign language is easier to learn than the last. With a perfectly regular artificial language you can make so much progress in a short time that you can use it freely for practical purposes. Yet it does not come of itself, like the mother-tongue. This free manipulation of a consciously acquired language is the very best training for forming a feeling for language—far better than weary stumbling over the baby stages of a hard language. When you can read, write, and speak one very easy artificial language, which you have had to learn as a foreign one, then is the time when you can profitably tackle the difficulties of natural language, appreciating the niceties of syntax, and realizing, by comparison with your normal key-language, in what points natural languages are merely arbitrary and have to be learnt by heart. Those who have early conquered the grammar and syntax of any foreign language, but have had to put in years of hard (largely memory) work before they could write or speak, e.g., Latin Latin, French French, or German German, will realize the saving effected, when they are told that Esperanto has no idiom, no arbitrary usage. The combination of words is not governed, as in natural languages, by tradition (which tradition has to be assimilated in the sweat of the brow), but is free, the only limits being common sense, common grammar, and lucidity.

To those who do not know Esperanto it may seem a dark saying that language riders can be worked out in the same way as geometrical ones. To understand this some knowledge of the language is necessary (for sample problems see Appendix A). But for the sake of making the argument intelligible it may here be stated that one of the labour-saving, vocabulary-saving devices of Esperanto is the employment of a number of suffixes with fixed meaning, that can be added to any root. Thus:

The suffix -ej- denotes place.

" " -il- " instrument.

" " -ig- " causation.

Final -o denotes a noun.

Given this and the root san- (cf. Lat. sanus), containing the idea of health, form words for "to heal" (san‑ig‑i = to cause to be well); "medicine" (san‑ig‑il‑o = instrument of healing); "hospital" (san‑ig‑ej‑o = place of healing), etc.

This is merely an example. The combinations and permutations are infinite; they give a healthy knowledge of word-building, and can be used in putting whole pages of carefully prepared idiomatic English into Esperanto. Practical experience shows that, given the necessary crude roots, the necessary suffixes, and a one-page grammar of the Esperanto language, an intelligent person can produce in Esperanto a translation of a page of idiomatic English, not Ollendorfian phrases, without having learnt Esperanto.

(b) Experience also shows that the intelligent one thoroughly enjoys himself while doing so; and having done so, experiences a thrill of exhilaration almost amounting to awe at having made a better translation into a language he has never learnt than he could make into a national language that he has learnt for years, e.g. Latin, French, or German.

And what is exhilaration in the dry tree may be sustained working keenness in the green. The stimulus to the young mind of progress swift and sure is immense. A child who has learnt to read, write, and speak Esperanto in six months, as is very possible within the natural limits of power of expression imposed by his age, not only has a sound working knowledge of grammatical categories and forms, which will stand him in good stead in subsequent language-learning; he has also a quite different attitude of mind—une tout autre mentalité, to use recent jargon—towards foreign languages. His only experience of learning one has been that he did so with the object and result of being able to read, write, and speak it within a reasonable time. "By so much the greater and more resounding the slump into actuality," you will say, "when he comes to grapple with his next." Perhaps. But even so, the habit of acquiring fresh words and forms for immediate use must surely tell—not to mention that he will incidentally have acquired a very useful Romance vocabulary, and a wholly admirable French lucidity of construction.

(3) And this question of lucidity brings us to the third great educational advantage of Esperanto. Its opponents—without having ever learnt it to see—have urged that its preciseness will debauch the literary sense. Surely the exact opposite is the fact. Le style c'est l'homme, and the essence of true style is that a man should give accurate expression to his thoughts. The French wit, satirizing vapid fine writing, said that language was given to man to enable him to conceal his thought. There is no more potent instrument for obscuring or concealing thought than the ready-made phrase. Take up many a piece of journalese or other slipshod writing, and note how often the conventional phrase or word slips from under the pen, meaning nothing in particular. The very conventionality disguises from writer and reader the confusion or absolute lack of idea it serves to cloak. Both are lulled by the familiar sound of the set phrase or word and glide easily over them. On the other hand, in using a language in which you construct a good deal of your vocabulary according to logical rule tout en marchant, it is impossible to avoid thinking, at each moment, exactly what you do mean. Where there is no idiom, no arbitrary usage, no ready-made phrase, there is also far less danger of yielding to a fatal facility.

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