I need not here point out the considerable importance to humanity of an international language ——— a language unconditionally accepted by everyone, and the common property of the whole world. How much time and labour we spend in learning foreign tongues, and yet when travelling in foreign countries, we are, as a rule, unable to converse with other human beings in their own language. How much time, labour, and money are wasted in translating the literary productions of one nation into the language of another, and yet, if we rely on translations alone, we can become acquainted with but a tithe of foreign literature.

     Were there but an international language, all translations would be made into it alone, as into a tongue intelligible to all, and works of an international character would be written in it in the first instance.

     The Chinese wall dividing literatures would disappear, and the works of other nations would be as readily intelligible to us as those of our own authors. Books being the same for everyone, education, ideals, convictions, aims, would be the same too, and all nations would be united in a common brotherhood. Being compelled, as we now are, to devote our time to the study of several different languages, we cannot study any of them sufficiently well, and there are but few persons who can even boast a complete mastery of their mother-tongue; on the other hand, languages cannot progress towards perfection, and we are often obliged, even in speaking our own language, to borrow words and expressions from foreigners, or to express our thoughts inexactly.

How different would the case be, had we but two languages to learn; we should know them infinitely better, and the languages themselves would grow richer, and reach a higher degrees of perfection than is found in any of those now existing. And yet, though language is the prime motor of civilisation, and to it alone we owe the having raised ourselves above the level of other animals, difference of speech is a cause of antipathy, nay even of hatred, between people, as being the first thing to strike us on meeting. Not being understood we keep aloof, and the first notion that occurs to our minds is, not to find out whether the others are of our own political opinions, or whence their ancestors came from thousands of years ago, but to dislike the strange sound of their language. Any one, who has lived for a length of time in a commercial city, whose inhabitants were of different unfriendly nations, will easily understand what a boon would be conferred on mankind by the adoption of an international idiom, which, without interfering with domestic affairs or the private-life of nations, would play the part of an official and commercial dialect, at any rate in countries inhabited by people of different nationalities.

     The immense importance, which it may well be imagined, an international language would acquire in science, commerce, etc., I will not here expatiate on: whoever has but once bestowed a thought on the subject will surely acknowledge that no sacrifice would be too great, if by it we could obtain a universal tongue. It is, therefore, imperative that the slightest effort in that direction should be attended to. The best years of my life have been devoted to the momentous cause which I am now bringing before the public, and I hope that, on account of the importance of the subject, my readers will peruse this pamphlet attentively to the end.

     I shall not here enter upon an analysis of the various attempts already made to give the public a universal language, but will content myself with remarking that these efforts have amounted, either to a short system of mutually-intelligible signs, or to a natural simplification of the grammar of existing modern languages, with a change of their words into arbitrarily-formed ones. The attempts of the first category were quickly seen to be too complicated for practical use, and so faded into oblivion; those of the second were, perhaps, entitled to the name of “languages”, but certainly not “international” languages. The inventors called their tongues “universal”, I know not why, possibly, because no one in the whole world except themselves could understand a single word, written or spoken in any of them. If a language, in order to become universal, has but to be named so, then, forsooth, the wish of any single individual can frame out of any existing dialect a universal tongue. As these authors naively imagined that their essays would be enthusiastically welcomed and taken up by the whole world, and as this unanimous welcome is precisely what the cold and indifferent world declines to give, when there is no chance of realising any immediate benefit, it is not much to be marvelled at, if these brilliant attempts came to nothing. The greater part of the world was not in the slightest degree interested in the prospect of a new language, and the persons who really cared about the matter thought it scarcely worth while to learn a tongue which none but the inventor could understand. When the whole world, said they, has learnt this language, or at least several million people, we will do the same. And so a scheme, which had it but been able to number some thousands of adepts before its appearance in public, would have been enthusiastically hailed, came into the world an utter fiasco. If the “Volapük”, one of the latest attempts at a universal tongue, has indeed its adepts, it owes its popularity solely to the idea of its being a “universal language”, and that idea has in itself something so attractive and sublime, that true enthusiasts, leaders in every new discovery, are ready to devote their time, in the hope that they may, perchance, win the cause. -->

     But the number of enthusiasts, after having risen to a certain number, will remain stationary (*3) and as the unfeeling and indifferent world will never consent to take any pains in order to speak with the few, this attempt will, like its predecessors, disappear without having achieved any practical victory.

     I have always been interested in the question of a universal language, but as I did not feel myself better qualified for the work than the authors of so many other fruitless attempts, I did not risk running into print, and merely occupied myself with imaginary schemes and a minute study of the problem. At length, however, some happy ideas, the fruits of my reflections, incited me to further work, and induced me to essay the systematic conquest of the many obstacles, which beset the path of the inventor of a new rational universal language. As it appears to me that I have almost succeeded in my undertaking, I am now venturing to lay before the critical public, the results of my long and assiduous labours.

     Amongst the numberless projects submitted at various times to the public, often under the high-sounding but unaccountable name of “universal languages”, no has solved at once more than one of the above-mentioned problems, and even that but partially. (Many other problems, of course, presented themselves, in addition to those here noticed, but these, as being of but secondary importance, I shall not in this place discuss.)

     Before proceeding to enlighten the reader as to the means employed for the solution of the problems, I would ask of him to reconsider the exact significance of each separately, so that he may not be inclined to carp at my methods of solution, merely because they may appear to him perhaps too simple. I do this, because I am well aware that the majority of mankind feel disposed to bestow their consideration on any subject the more carefully, in proportion as it is enigmatical and incomprehensible. Such persons, at the sight of so short a grammar, with rules so simple, and so readily intelligible, will be ready to regard it with a contemptuous glance, never considering the fact—of which a little further reflection would convince them—that this simplification and bringing of each detail out of its original complicated form into the simplest and easiest conceivable, was, in fact, the most insuperable obstacle to be coped with.

I

     In the same manner are employed many other affixes—some fifty in all—which the reader will find in the vocabulary at end of this tractate. (*4) Moreover, as I have laid it down as a general rule, that every word already regarded as international—the so-called “foreign” words, for example—undergoes no change in my language, except such as may be necessary to bring it into conformity with the international orthography (**5) , innumerable words become superfluous, 例, “locomotive”, “telegraph”, “nerve”, “temperature”, “centre”, “form”, “public”, “platinum”, “figure”, “waggon”, “comedy”, and hundreds more.

     By the help of these rules, and others, which will be found in the grammar, the language is rendered so exceedingly simple that the whole labour in learning consists in committing to memory some 900 words—which number includes all the grammatical inflexions, prefixes, etc. With the assistance of the rules given in the grammar, any one of ordinary intellectual capacity, may form for himself all the words, expressions, and idioms in ordinary use. Even these 900 words, as will be shown directly, are so chosen that the learning them offers no difficulty to a well-educated person.

     Thus the acquirement of this rich, mellifluous, universally-comprehensible language, is not a matter of years of laborious study, but the mere light amusement of a few days.

II

     The solution of the second problem was effected thus:

     1) I introduced a complete dismemberment of ideas into independent words, so that the whole language consists, not of words in different states of grammatical inflexion, but of unchangeable words. If the reader will turn to one of the pages of this book written in my language, he will perceive that each word always retains its original unalterable form—namely, that under which it appears in the vocabulary.

The various grammatical inflexions, the reciprocal relations of the members of a sentence, are expressed by the junction of immutable syllables. But the structure of such a synthetic language being altogether strange to the chief European nations, and consequently difficult for them to become accustomed to, I have adapted this principle of dismemberment to the spirit of the European languages, in such a manner that anyone learning my tongue from grammar alone, without having previously read this introduction—which is quite unnecessary for the learner—will never perceive that the structure of the language differs in any respect from that of his mother-tongue. So, for example, the derivation of frat'in'o, which is in reality a compound of frat “child of the same parents as one’s self”, in “female”, o “an entity”, “that which exists”, i.e., “that which exists as a female child of the same parents as one’s self” = “a sister”—is explained by the grammar thus: the root for “brother” is frat, the termination of substantives in the nominative case is o, hence frat'o is the equivalent of “brother”; the feminine gender is formed by the suffix in, hence frat'in'o = “sister”. (The little strokes, between certain letters, are added in accordance with a rule of the grammar, which requires their insertion between each component part of every complete word). Thus the learner experiences no difficulty, and never even imagines that what he calls terminations, suffixes, etc.,—are complete and independent words, which always keep their own proper significations, whether placed at the beginning or end of a word, in the middle, or alone. The result of this construction of the language is, that everything written in it can be immediately and perfectly understood by the help of the vocabulary—or even almost without it—by anyone who has not only not learnt the language before, but even has never heard of its very existence. Let me illustrate this by an example: I am amongst Englishmen, and have not the slightest knowledge of the English language; I am absolutely in need of making myself understood, and write in the international tongue, maybe, as follows:

     Mi ne sci'as ki'e mi las'is la baston'o'n; ĉu vi ĝi'n ne vid'is?

     

I hold out to one of the strangers an International – English vocabulary (**6), and point to the title, where the following sentence appears in large letters: “Everything written in the international language can be translated by the help of this vocabulary. If several words together express but a single idea, they are written as one word, but separated by [apostrophes]; 例, frat'in'o, though a single idea is yet composed of three words which must be looked for separately in the vocabulary”. If my companion has never heard of the international language he will probably favour me at first with a vacant stare, will then take the paper offered to him, and searching for the words in the vocabulary, as directed, will make out something of this kind:

     “Ich weiss nicht wo ich den Stock gelassen habe; haben Sie ihn nicht gesehen?”

     Anyone who did not speak or understand German, after searching for each word separately in a dictionary, would produce the following farrago of nonsense:

     “I; white; not; where; I; — ; stick; dispassionate; property; to have; she, they, you; — ; not; — ?”

     I need scarcely point out that a lexicon of a modern language is usually a tome of a certain bulk, and the search for any number of words one by one is in itself a most laborious undertaking, not to speak of the different significations attaching to the same word amongst which there is but a bare possibility of the student selecting the right one.

     The international vocabulary, owing to the highly synthetic structure of the language, is a mere leaflet, which one might carry in one’s note-book, or the waistcoat-pocket.

     Granted that we had a language with a grammar simplified to the utmost, and whose every word had a definite fixed meaning, the person addressed would require not only to have beforehand some knowledge of the grammar, to be able, even with the vocabulary at hand, to understand anything addressed to him, but would also need some previous acquaintance with the vocabulary itself, in order to be able to distinguish between the primitive word and its grammatically-altered derivatives. The utility, again, of such a language would wholly depend upon the number of its adepts, for when sitting, for instance, in a railway-carriage, and wishing to ask a fellow-traveller, “How long do we stop at —?”, it is scarcely to be expected that he will undertake to learn the grammar of the language before replying! By using, on the other hand, the international language, we are set in possibility of communicating directly with a person of any nationality, even though he may never have heard of the existence of the language before.

     Anything whatever, written in the international tongue, can be translated, without difficulty, by means of the vocabulary alone, no previous study being requisite. The reader may easily convince himself of the truth of this assertion, by experimenting for himself with the specimens of the language appended to this pamphlet. A person of good education will seldom need to refer to the vocabulary; a linguist, scarcely at all.

     Let us suppose that you have to write to a Spaniard, who neither knows your language nor you his. You think that probably he has never heard of the international tongue— No matter, write boldly to him in that language, and be sure he will understand you perfectly. The complete vocabulary required for everyday use, being but a single sheet of paper, can be bought for a few pence, in any language you please, easily enclosed in the smallest envelope, and forwarded with your letter. The person to whom it is addressed will without doubt understand what you have written, the vocabulary being not only a clue to, but a complete explanation of your letter. The wonderful power of combination possessed by the words of the international language renders this lilliputian lexicon amply sufficient for the expression of every want of daily life; but words seldom met with, technical terms, and foreign words familiar to all nations, as, “tobacco”, “theatre”, “fabric”, etc., are not included in it. If such words, therefore, are needed, and it is impossible to express them by some equivalent terms, the larger vocabulary must be consulted.

     2) It has now been shown how, by means of the peculiar structure of the international tongue, any one may enter into an intelligible correspondence with another person of a different nationality. The sole drawback, until the language becomes more widely known, is the necessity under which the writer is placed of waiting until the person addressed shall have analysed his thoughts. In order to remove this obstacle, as far as practicable, at least for persons of education, recourse was had to the following expedient. Such words as are common to the languages of all civilised peoples, together with the so-called “foreign” words, and technical terms, were left unaltered. If a word has a different sound in different languages, that sound has been chosen which is common to at least two or three of the most important European tongues, or which, if found in one language only, has become familiar to other nations. When the required word has a different sound in every language, some word was sought for, having only a relative likeness in meaning to the other, or one which, though seldom used, is yet well-known to the leading nations, 例, the word for “near” is different in every European language, but if one consider for a moment the word “proximus” (nearest), it will be noticed that some modified form of the word is in use in all important tongues. If, then, I call “near”, proksim, the meaning will be apparent to every educated man. In other emergencies words were drawn from the Latin, as being a quasi-international language. Deviations from these rules were only made in exceptional cases, as for the avoidance of homonyms, simplicity of orthography, etc. In this manner, being in communication with a European of fair education, who has never learnt the international tongue, one may make sure of being immediately understood, without the person addressed having to refer continually to the vocabulary.

     In order that the reader may prove for himself the truth of all that has been set forth above, a few specimens of the international language are subjoined. (*8)

III

     I have now completed my analysis of the more remarkable features of my international language. I have shown the advantages to be derived from a study of it, and proved that its ultimate success is altogether independent of the opinions that may be formed as to its right to the title “international”. For even should the language never come into general use, it gives to every one who has learned it, the possibility of being understood by foreigners, if only they be able to read and write. But my tongue has yet another object; not content with internationality, it aims at universality, and aspires to being spoken by the majority of educated people. To count on the aid of the public in a scheme of this nature would indeed be to build on a tottering—nay, rather, an imaginary— foundation. The larger part of the public does not care to aid anyone, it prefers to have its wishes gratified without inconvenience to itself. On this account I made my best endeavours to discover some means of accomplishing my object, independently of the help of the public. One of my plans, of which I shall now speak more at large, is a kind of “universal vote”.

     If the reader consider all that has been said above, he must come to the conclusion that the study of the international language is practically useful, and completely remunerates the learner for the small amount of trouble he has to expend on it. For my own part, I am naturally wishful that the whole of mankind should take up my language, but I had rather be prepared for the worst, than form too sanguine anticipations. I suppose therefore, that, just at first, very few will consider my language worth the learning, so far as practical usefulness is concerned, and for abstract principles no one will lose even a single hour.

     Most of my readers will, either pay not the slightest attention to my proposition, or, doubting whether the language be of any use, never “screw up their courage to the sticking-point” of learning it, fearing that they may be dubbed “dreamers”, a sobriquet dreaded by most people more than fire. What, then, is to be done, to dispose this mass of indifferent and undecided beings to master the international language? Could we, in imagination, look for a moment into the mind of each of these indifferent ones, we should find their thoughts to be taking somewhat of the following form. In principle, no one has anything to oppose to the introduction of an international dialect; on the contrary, all would give it their fullest approval, but each wishes to see the greater part of the civilized world able to speak the language, and himself able to comprehend it, without any preliminary “wearisome bitterness of learning”, on his own part. Then, of course, even the most indifferent would set to work, because to shirk the small amount of labour necessary for learning a language possessed of such valuable qualities, and above all, considered “the thing” by all the educated, would be regarded as simple stupidity.

     In order to supply a language ready for immediate use, without any one having to initiate the study, and to see on every hand people either already proficient in the tongue, or having promised to take it up, we must proceed somewhat in the following manner. Doubtless this little book will be scattered through various countries, and fall into the hands of various readers. I do not ask any of my readers to spend time, labour, or money on the subject now brought to their notice. I merely beg of you, the present reader of the pamphlet, to take up your pen for a moment, fill in one of the appended “Promes'o'j” (below) and send it to me (Dr. Esperanto, c/o Dr. L. Samenhof, Warsaw, Poland). The “Promes'o” is to this effect:  

    “I, the undersigned, promise to learn the international language, proposed by Dr. Esperanto, if it shall be shown that ten million similar promises have been publicly given”.

     If you have any objections to make to the present form of the language, strike out the words of the promise, and write “kontraŭ” (against), beneath them. If you undertake to learn the language unconditionally, i.e., without reference to the number of other students, strike out the latter words of the “Promes'o”, and write “sen'kondiĉ'e”, (unconditionally). On the back of the promise write name and address. The signing of this promise lays no obligations upon the person signing, and does not bind him to the smallest sacrifice or work. It merely puts him under an obligation to study the language, when ten million other persons shall be doing the same. When that time arrives, there will be no talking about “sacrifice”, everyone will be ready to study the language, without having signed any promises.

     On the other hand, every person signing one of these “Promes'o'j”, will—without any greater inconvenience to himself than dipping a pen in ink—be hastening on the realization of the traditional ideal of mankind, the universal language. When the number of promises has reached ten millions, a list of the names of those who have signed will be published, and with it, the question of an international language—decided.

     Nothing actually prevents people from inducing their friends and acquaintances to sign a promise in any cause, yet how few, as a fact, ever do sign anything, be the object ever so important and advantageous to mankind. More especially, when, as in the present instance, the act of signing, while contributing to the realization of a sublime ideal, at the same time requires no moral nor material sacrifice, can one see no very clear grounds for a refusal.

Doubtless, no one has anything to say, in general, against the introduction of an international language; but, if anyone does not approve of the present form of the language, by all means let him send me, instead of his “Promise”, his “Protest”. For it is, manifestly, the duty of every person able to read and write, of every age, sex, or profession, to give his opinion in this great undertaking; the more so, as it requires no greater sacrifice than that of a few moments for filling in the promise, and a few pence for sending it to me.

     I would here beg of all editors of newspapers and magazines to make known the cause to their readers, and at the same time, I would request my readers to mention the subject to all their friends.

     I need not say any more. I am not so conceited as to suppose that my language is so perfect as to be incapable of improvement, but I make bold to think that I have satisfied all the conditions required in a language claiming to be styled “international”. It is only after having solved successfully all the problems I had proposed to myself—concerning the more important of which only, I have been able to speak above, owing to the small compass of this pamphlet—and after many years spent in a careful study of the subject that I venture to appear in public. I am but human; I may have erred, I may have committed unpardonable faults. I may even have omitted to give to my language the very thing most important to it. (**10) For these reasons, before printing complete vocabularies and bringing out books and magazines, I lay my work before the public, for the space of one year, addressing myself to the whole intelligent world with the earnest request to send me opinions on the proposed international language. I invite everyone to communicate with me as to the changes, corrections, etc., which he deems advisable. All such observations sent to me, I will gratefully make use of, if they appear really advantageous, and at the same time, not subversive of the fundamental principles of the structure of the language—that is to say, simplicity, and adaptability to international communication whether adopted universally or not.

     At the end of the alloted time, an abstract of the proposed changes will be published and the language will receive its final form. But if, even then, anyone should find the language not altogether satisfactory to himself, he should not forget that the language is by no means proof against all further changes, only that the right of alteration will be no longer the author’s personal privilege, but that of an academy of the tongue.

     It is no easy task to invent an international language, but it is a still less easy one to persuade the public to make use of it. Hence, it is of the utmost importance that every possible effort be made for its furtherance. When the form of the language has been decided, and the language itself has come into general use, a special academy can introduce—gradually and imperceptibly—all necessary changes, even should the result be a total alteration of the form of the language. On this account, I would pray those of my readers, who may be, for whatever reasons, dissatisfied with my language, to send in their protests only in the event of their having serious cause for it, such as the finding in the language objectionable features, unalterable in the future.

     This little work, which has cost much labour and health, I now commend to the kindly attention of the public, hoping that all, to whom the public weal is dear, will aid me to the best of their ability. Circumstances will show each one in what way he can be of use; I will only direct the attention of all friends of the international languge, to that most important object, towards which all eyes must be turned, the success of the voting. Let each do what he can, and in a short time we shall have, that which men have been dreaming of so long—“A Universal Tongue”.

Grammar

A. Alphabet

If it be found impracticable to print works with the diacritical signs ( ^ , ˘ ), the letter h may be substituted for the sign (^), and the sign ( ˘ ) may be altogether omitted ; but at the beginning of works so printed there should be this note: “NB: ch = ĉ; gh = ĝ; hh = ĥ; jh = ĵ; sh = ŝ.” (**11)

When it is necessary to make use of the “internal” sign ( , ), care should be taken that it cannot be mistaken for a comma. Instead of ( , ), may be printed ( ' ) or ( - ), Exanple. sign,et,o, sign'et'o, or sign-et-o. (**12)

B. Pronounciation

     The tens and hundreds are formed by simple junction of the numerals, 例, 533=kvin'cent tri'dek tri.

     Ordinals are formed by adding the adjectival a to the cardinals, 例, unu'a, “first”; du'a, “second”, etc.

     Multiplicatives (as “threefold”, “fourfold”, etc.) add obl, 例, tri'obl'a, “threefold”.

     Fractionals add on, as du'on'o, “a half”, kvar'on'o, “a quarter”. Collective numerals add op, as kvar'op'e, “four together”.

     Distributives prefix po, 例, po kvin, “five apiece”.

     Adverbials take e, 例, unu'e, “firstly”, etc.

C. General Rules