between any two regions. Even so it is a matter largely of pronunciation and inflection. The writer who would suggest the twangs and drawls, and indicate the r's that are rolled or ignored, and the h's insecure in position, has hard work with tortured spelling to accomplish his end. To the art of printing and all the publishing, useful and otherwise, it has made possible; to popular education and the reading it stimulates, we owe a uniform written language. Had the colonists gone forth and builded their nations prior to the days of type and presses and cheap books, the Kansan and Tasmanian might have been to-day as linguistically remote from each other as both are now from the Anglo-Saxons of Bede's days. Instead, though they may "labor" or "labour" according to fancy, and each have his preference about going to "jail" or to "gaol," they are able to pool their literatures and draw from a common fund. To increasingly comfortable and rapid means of transportation, whether of the tourist, the British bagman or American drummer or the job hunter, we are indebted for our homogeneous speech. And in that common speech lies possibly the strongest tie between Pan-Angles and the one that makes all others potent.

Every Pan-Angle is in instant communication with every other Pan-Angle wherever he may meet him. Through books, newspapers, and magazines written in his mother tongue, he may be in constant touch with the doings of the whole Pan-Angle world. American youths study Geikie's Geology in their schools; New Zealanders buy {32} and read the Atlantic Monthly; and the Century Dictionary is in use at Oxford. Men like Lord Bryce and Admiral Mahan write on matters vital to the existence of Pan-Angle civilization; and attention and esteem are theirs from every thoughtful English-speaking man. Through the pulpit, the lecture platform, and the stage, the people of each nation daily form first-hand acquaintance with the representatives of each of the other six—no bar of translation or interpretation standing between. Of the popular authors and novelists, one-half of their readers probably hardly know which are American, which Britannic. Thus our common language produces a continuous interchange of thought which makes for mental unity and keeps us one people.

Through this world-wide interchange of thought we see not only each other, but ourselves, from the point of view of each other. Family criticism is often harsh when most friendly; and among ourselves we speak our minds freely, whether it be tolls, boundaries, or table manners under discussion. Frank opinions are sometimes resented. "I do not talk through my nose," says the American. "Nor do I use my a's like a cockney," retorts the Australian. "I have no accent," rejoins the Englander with an unmistakable drawl. "Look at your police and your yellow press," say six of us, and the American stands ashamed. "Look at the abject misery of your poor and the waste of your fertile lands," and the Englander winces. "Look at your defenceless condition," and Newfoundlanders, Canadians, New Zealanders, Australians, and South Africans all admit the indictment. {33} Mutual criticism is accordingly not without profit. In each other's virtues and failings we find models and warnings, for our ideals are in the main the same, and to no foreign opinion are we so sensitive as to the opinion of other members of our own family.

In Pan-Angle nations there are to-day more people speaking English than have ever before in the world's history spoken one tongue.[33-1] But even outside of those seven nations, English ranks as the world language, the one most useful for commerce, travel, or education. Some maintain that it is the richest language known. On a computation of words that may perhaps be so.[33-2] Others claim it is easy to learn. No one calls it easy to spell. Some say English-speaking people cannot learn other languages; others say they will not. The story is {34} told of a man for many years the only British resident on 1500 miles of Arabian coast. He knew less than a dozen words of Arabic. "How do you carry on your trade?" someone asked. "Oh," he replied, "the beggars have got to learn English."[34-1] Similar is Mr. Dooley's promise to the Filipinos: "An' we'll larn ye our language, because 'tis aisier to larn ye ours than to larn oursilves yours."

That the wide knowledge of its language is a source of advantage to a nation, Benjamin Franklin pointed out in a letter to Noah Webster in 1789: "The Latin language, long the vehicle used in distributing knowledge among the different nations of Europe, is daily more and more neglected; and one of the modern tongues, viz. the French, seems in point of universality to have supplied its place. It is spoken in all the courts of Europe; and most of the literati, those even who do not speak it, have acquired knowledge enough of it to enable them easily to read the books that are written in it. This gives a considerable advantage to that nation; it enables its authors to inculcate and spread throughout other nations such sentiments and opinions on important points as are most conducive to its interests, or which may contribute to its reputation by promoting the common interests of mankind. It is perhaps owing to its being written in French, that Voltaire's treatise on 'Toleration' has had so sudden and so great an effect on the bigotry of Europe, as almost entirely to disarm it. The general use of the French language has likewise a very advantageous effect on the profits of {35} the bookselling branch of commerce, . . . And at present there is no capital town in Europe without a French bookseller's shop corresponding with Paris.

"Our English bids fair to obtain the second place. The great body of excellent printed sermons in our language, and the freedom of our writings on political subjects, have induced a number of divines of differents sects and nations, as well as gentlemen concerned in public affairs, to study it; so far at least as to read it. And if we were to endeavor the facilitating its progress, the study of our tongue might become much more general."[35-1]

By 1856 the use of our language had progressed so that Emerson thought it "destined to be the universal language of men."[35-2]

That we who talk English go about with an assumption of superiority, there is abundant testimony. In 1676 an English ship visited Mauritius, then a possession of Holland. A modern historian quotes from the records of the Dutch Governor: "This breed imagine the Hollanders are of a lower stock, naturally inferior, who ought always to be humbly and servilely at their disposal."[35-3] A Bostonian, who sailed from his home port for Liverpool on news of the ratification of the treaty of Ghent, mentions a British army officer with whom he chatted in London in 1815: "The colonel complimented the American troops in a curious manner by observing that they were brave {36} and it was not to be wondered at since they were 'descendants of Englishmen.' It required all my gravity to make an acknowledging bow for this compliment I frequently found that the bravery displayed by the Americans in the last war was accounted for from this source."[36-1] "They [the Scots] are bumptious, very bumptious," says Goldwin Smith. "They try to force their Burns down our throats."[36-2] "Do not, above all things," counsels an official circular addressed to British emigrants to Canada, "try to impress on your Canadian employer how much better we do things in England, for it will only make him dislike you and perhaps not care to keep you in his employ. Canadians, too, often resent criticism of their country or its methods, but you should remember that they have been working in Canada long before you were born, and that they are more likely than a stranger like yourself to know what suits that country best."[36-3] The American Ambassador, speaking in London in 1913, said "he was asked almost every day by the kindly people whom he met—and he could