International Language

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.

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.

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.)

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

Take	the	Esperanto	suffix -in-,	which	denotes	the	feminine.
"	"	"	prefix mal-	"	"	"	opposite.
"	"	"	suffix -ig-	"	"	causative action.