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READINGS IN FRENCH.—I.

LE SAPEUR DE DIX ANS.
SECTION I.

5

Vous

COLLOQUIAL EXERCISE.

1. Quel était le jour du mois ?
2. Quel ordre le général avait-il
reçu ?

3. Où était la position?

4. Comment le ravin était-il dé-
fendu ?

5.

Que fallait-il faire pour arriver
à l'endroit désigné?

6. Où était alors le régiment de
Bilboquet ?

7. À quel endroit cette histoire
s'est-elle passée?

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8. Quel ordre apportait l'aide-de- 15. Qu'ajouta-t-il en parlant du
camp?
Petit Caporal ?

NOTES.

IL y avait (a) en mil huit cent douze au neuvième régiment de
ligne, un petit tambour qui n'avait que dix ans.2 C'était un
enfant de troupe (b) qui s'appelait Frolut de son véritable
nom,3 mais que les soldats avaient surnommé Bilboquet. En
effet, il avait un corps si long, si maigre et si fluet, surmonté
d'une si grosse tête, qu'il ressemblait assez à l'objet dont on
lui avait donné le nom;6 Frolut ou Bilboquet, comme
voudrez (c), n'était pas au reste (d) un garçon autrement re-
marquable. Le tambour-maître lui avait si souvent battu la
mesure sur les épaules avec sa grande canne de jonc, que l'har-
monie du ra et du fla avait fini par lui entrer dans la tête et
dans les mains. Voilà tout. Mais il ne portait pas le bonnet
de police suspendu sur l'oreille droite, comme les moindres
fifres le faisaient (e); il ne savait (f) pas marcher en se dandi-
nant, à l'exemple de ses supérieurs, et un jour de paie qu'il (c) Il y avait à parier, one might
avait voulu laisser pendre son sabre par devant, comme les
easily think; lit., one might
élégants du régiment, il s'était embarrassé les pieds en courant bet.
et était tombé sur son nez,1o qu'il s'était horriblement écorché," (d) Est-ce qu'il croit, does
10
à la grande joie de ses camarades. On riait (g) beaucoup de
lui,12 qui ne riait de personne.13 Aussi avait-il dans ses habi-
tudes un fond de sauvagerie et d'éloignement 14 bien rare à
son âge.15

9

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(d) Au reste, besides.

(g) From rire.

ses habi

commun
du petit

(h) Se coiffer, to put on his cap. SECTION II.

Un jour, c'était le vingt-sept juillet1 mil huit cent douze, le général reçoit (a) de l'Empereur l'ordre de s'emparer d'une position qui était de l'autre côté d'un énorme ravin.3 Ce ravin était défendu par une batterie de six pièces de canon, qui enlevait des files entières de soldats, et pour arriver à l'endroit qu'avait désigné l'Empereur, il fallait s'emparer de cette batterie. À ce moment, le régiment de Bilboquet était sur le bord de la Dwina;6 car l'histoire que je vous rapporte s'est passée dans la fameuse campagne de Russie.7 Tout à coup, on voit arriver au grand galop (b) un aide-de-camp du général, qui apportait l'ordre à deux compagnies de voltigeurs de s'emparer de cette batterie. C'était une opération hardie où il y avait à parier (c) que périraient plus des trois quarts de ceux que l'on y envoyait; aussi les voltigeurs, malgré leur intrépidité, se regardèrent-ils entre eux en secouant la tête et en haussant les épaules: on en entendit même quelques-uns et des plus anciens, qui dirent tout bas en grognant et en montrant les canons— "Est-ce qu'il croit (d), le général, que ces cadets-là (e) crachent (f) des pommes cuites ? 11 Ou bien est-ce qu'il a envie de nous servir en hachis aux Cosaques, qu'il nous envoie (g) deux cents contre cette redoute ?" 12

10

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Cependant il entrait (a) encore quelque hésitation dans la compagnie,' et déjà deux fois le capitaine qui commandait-avait donné l'ordre au tambour-maître de prendre deux tambours, de appuyé sur sa grande canne, hochant la tête et peu disposé à se mettre en avant, et de battre la charge. Celui-ci restait obéir. Pendant ce temps Bilboquet, à cheval (b) sur son tambour et les yeux levés sur son chef, sifflait un air de fifre et battait le pas accéléré avec ses doigts. Enfin l'ordre venait d'être (c) donné une troisième fois au tambour-maître, et il ne paraissait (d) pas disposé à obéir, lorsque tout à coup, Bilboquet se relève, accroche son tambour à son côté, prend ses baguettes,7 et passant sous le nez (e) du tambour-maître, il le toise avec orgueil, lui rend d'un seul mot toutes les injures qu'il avait sur le cœur, et luit dit, "Viens (f) donc, grand poltron!

12

8

Le tambour-maître veut (g) lever sa canne, mais déjà Bilboquet était à la tête des deux compagnies, 10 battant la charge comme un enragé (h). Les soldats, à cet aspect, s'avancent aprè lui et courent vers la terrible batterie."1 Elle décharge d'un seul coup ses six pièces de canon, et des rangs de nos braves voltigeurs s'abattent et ne se relèvent plus. La fumée, poussée par le vent, les enveloppe, le fracas du canon les étourdit; mais la fumée passe, le bruit cesse un instant, et ils voient (i) debout, à vingt pas devant eux, l'intrépide Bilboquet battant la charge, 13 et ils entendent son tambour,14 dont le bruit, tout faible qu'il soit, semble narguer tous ces gros canons qui viennent (j) de tirer. Les voltigeurs courent toujours, et toujours, 15 devant eux le tambour et son terrible rran rran les appelle; enfin une second décharge de la batterie éclate et perce d'une grèle de mitraille les débris acharnés des deux belles compagnies. 16 À ce moment, Bilboquet se retourne et voit qu'il reste à peine cinquante hommes des deux cents qui étaient partis, 17 et aussitôt, comme transporté d'une fureur de vengeance, il redouble de fracas:1 on eût dit (k) vingt tambours battant à la fois; jamais le tambour-maître n'avait si hardiment frappé une caisse. Les soldats s'élancent de nouveau et entrent dans la batterie,19 Bilboquet le pr mier, criant à tue-tête (1) aux Russes

"Les morceaux en sont bons, les voici; 20 attendez, attendez!" COLLOQUIAL EXERCISE.

1. Que remarquait-on néanmoins
dans la compagnie ?

2. Quel ordre le capitaine avait-
il donné au tambour-maitre ?

3. Que fit celui-ci après avoir
reçu cet ordre ?

4. Où était Bilboquet pendant ce
temps là ?

5. Que faisait-il ?

6. Le tambour-maître paraissait-
il disposé à obéir au troisième
ordre ?

7. Que fit alors le petit tam-
bour?

8. Comment apostropha-t-il le tambour-maître?

9. Que voulut faire le tambour-
maitre ?

10. Où était alors notre héros?
11. Que firent les soldats en voyant
son intrépidité P

12. Quel effet produisit la dé

charge des six pièces de canon? 13. Que virent les soldats quand la fumée fut dissipée ?

14. Qu'entendaient-ils malgré le bruit du canon?

15. Que firent alors nos voltigeurs?

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A tue-tête, with all his might. SECTION IV.

(e)

From revenir.

(n)

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Pendant ce temps, Napoléon monté sur un tertre, regardait exécuter cette prise héroïque. À chaque décharge, il tressaillait sur son cheval isabelle; puis, quand les soldats entrèrent dans la batterie, il baissa sa lorgnette en disant (a) tout bas: "Braves gens !"'2

Et dix mille hommes de la garde, qui étaient derrière lui, se mirent (b) à battre des mains et à applaudir en criant"Bravo, les voltigeurs! Et ils s'y connaissaient (c), je vous assure."

Aussitôt, sur l'ordre de Napoléon, un aide-de-camp courut (d) jusqu'à la batterie et revint (e) au galop.

"Combien sont-ils arrivés ?" 5 dit l'empereur.

66

64

Quarante," répondit l'aide-de-camp.

"Quarante croix demain," dit l'empereur en se retournant vers son major-général.

Véritablement, le lendemain, tout le régiment forma un grand cercle autour des restes des deux compagnies de voltigeurs, et on appela successivement le nom des quarante braves qui avaient pris (f) la batterie, et l'on remit (g) à chacun d'eux la eroix de la Légion-d'Honneur.9 La cérémonie était finie, et tout le monde allait se retirer, lorsqu'une voix sortit du rang et fit entendre (h) ces mots,10 prononcés avec un singulier accent (1) de surprise

"Et moi! moi! je n'ai donc rien?

Le général qui distribuait les croix, se retourna et vit planté (5) devant lui notre camarade Bilboquet, les joues rouges et l'œil presque en larmes.11

"Toi" lui dit-il, "que demandes-tu ?"

Mais, mon général, j'en étais" (k) dit Bilboquet presque en colère; 12 c'est moi qui battais (1) la charge en avant, c'est moi qui suis entré le premier."

"Que veux-tu (m), mon garçon ? on t'a oublié," répondit le général; "d'ailleurs, ajouta-t-il en considérant que c'était un enfant, tu es encore bien jeune, on te la donnera quand tu auras de la barbe au menton; 13 en attendant, (n) voilà de quoi te consoler."

En disant (o) ces paroles, le général tendit une pièce de vingt francs au pauvre Bilboquet, qui la regarda sans penser à la prendre. Il s'était fait (p) un grand silence autour de lui, et chacun le considérait attentivement; 16 lui, demeurait immobile devant le général et de grosses larmes roulaient dans ses yeux. Ceux qui s'étaient le plus moqués de lui paraissaient (q) attendris, 18 et peut-être allait-on élever une réclamation19 en sa faveur, lorsqu'il releva vivement la tête, comme s'il venait de prendre une grande résolution, et il dit au général—

"C'est bon, donnez toujours (7), ce sera pour une autre fois," 20

Et sans plus de façons, il mit la pièce dans sa poche et s'en retourna dans son rang en sifflant d'un air délibéré et satisfait.21

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(m) Que veux-tu, how can I help it, what can I do?

En attendant, meanwhile. (0) From dire.

(p) Il s'était fait, there was.

(q) From paraitre.

(r) Toujours, notwithstanding; lit., always.

KEY TO EXERCISES TO LESSONS IN FRENCH.
EXERCISE 61 (Vol. I., page 316).

1. Are you still writing the same lesson? 2. I no longer write the same, I write another. 3. Does your clerk write rapidly? 4. He writes very well, but he does not write quickly. 5. Have you not money enough to buy that estate? 6. I have money enough, but I intend to make a journey to France. 7. There is your book, do you want it? 8. I do not want it, I have another. 9. Do you still want my penknife? 10. I do not want it any more, I am going to return it to you. 11. Does our cousin live in the city? 12. He lives no longer in the city, he lives in the country. 13. Does he like to go hunting? 14. He does not like to go hunting. 15. He goes fishing every day.

16. Is our partner in Paris or in Rouen? 17. He is at Marseilles.

18. Where do you intend to conduct your son? 19. I am going to take him to Italy. 20. Do you live in Milan or in Florence? 21. I live neither in Milan nor in Florence, I live in Turin. 22. Does your friend live in Switzerland? 23. He lives no longer in Switzerland, he lives in Prussia. 24. Is your servant at church? 25. No, Sir, he is at school. EXERCISE 62 (Vol. I., page 316).

1. Votre commis écrit-il aussi bien que M. votre fils ? 2. Il écrit passablement bien, mais pas si bien que mon fils. 3. Avez-vous assez de livres dans votre bibliothèque ? 4. Je n'ai pas assez de livres, mais j'ai l'intention d'en acheter encore. 5. Voici la lettre de Mlle. votre sœur, voulez-vous la lire ? 6. J'ai l'intention de la lire. 7. M. votre fils aime-t-il à aller à la pêche ? 8. Il aime à aller à la pêche et à la chasse. 9. Quand aime-t-il à aller à la pêche ? 10. Quand je suis à la campagne. 11. Que faites-vous quand vous êtes à la ville ? 12. Quand je suis à la ville, je lis et j'apprends ma leçon. 13. Avez-vous l'intention d'aller en France cette année? 14. J'ai l'intention d'aller en Allemagne. 15. Voulez-vous aller à la ville, s'il pleut? 16. Quand il pleut, je reste toujours à la maison. 17. Combien d'amis avez-vous à la ville? 18. J'y ai beaucoup d'amis. 19. Y a-t-il beaucoup d'Anglais en France ? 20. Il y a beaucoup

28.

d'Anglais en France et en Italie. 21. Y a-t-il plus d'Anglais en Allemagne qu'en Italie ? 22. Il y a plus d'Anglais en Italie qu'en Allemagne. 23. Fait-il beau temps en Italie ? 24. Il y fait très-beau temps. 25. Y gèle-t-il souvent ? 26. Il y gèle quelquefois, mais pas souvent. 27. Cette demoiselle lit-elle aussi bien que sa sœur? Elle lit mieux que sa sœur, mais sa sœur lit mieux que moi. 29. Y a-t-il quelqu'un chez vous ? 30. Mon père est à la maison. 31. M. 33. Il n'y a personne à la maison aujourd'hui.

votre beau-frère est-il absent ? 32. Mon beau-frère est chez vous.

EXERCISE 63 (Vol. I., page 316).

1. Do they bring you money every day? 2. It is not brought to me every day. 3. Do they furnish you clothes when you want them? 4. They furnish me some every time that I want them. 5. Do we want money when we are sick? 6. When we are sick we want it much. 7. Have you heard from my son? 8. I have not heard from him. 9. Is it not said that he is in Africa? 10. They say that he is to go to Algiers. 11. When is he to commence his journey? 12. They say that he is to commence it next month. 13. Does that marriage take place to-day or to-morrow? 14. We are told that it is to take place this afternoon. 15. It will take place at half-past five. 16. Do you wish to come instead of your brother? 17. My brother is to come instead of our cousin. 18. Do you intend to tell him what he is to do? 19. He knows what he is to do. 20. Do you know anything new? 21. There is nothing new. 22. Is much gold found in California? 23. Much is found there. 24. Do they also find diamonds? 25. They do not find any, they find only gold. EXERCISE 64 (Vol. I., page 317).

1. Que dit-on de moi? 2. On dit que vous n'êtes pas trèsattentif à vos leçons. 3. Dit-on qu'on trouve beaucoup d'or en Afrique ? 4. On dit qu'on trouve beaucoup d'or en Californie. 5.

Vous apporte-t-on des livres tous les jours? 6. On m'apporte des livres tous les jours, mais je n'ai pas le temps de les lire. 7. Que doit-on faire quand on est malade? 8. On doit envoyer chercher un médecin. 9. Envoyez-vous chercher mon frère ? 10. Je dois l'en

voyer chercher ce matin. 11. Recevez-vous tous les jours des nouvelles de M. votre fils ? 12. Je reçois de ses nouvelles toutes les fois que M. votre frère vient. 13. La vente a-t-elle lieu aujourd'hui ? 14. Elle a lieu cette après-midi. 15. À quelle heure a-t-elle lieu ? 16. Elle a lieu à trois heures et demie. 17. J'ai envie d'y aller, mais mon frère est malade. 18. Que dois-je faire ? 19. Vous devez écrire à M. votre frère, qui, dit-on, est très-malade. 20. Doit-il partir pour l'Afrique? 21. Il doit partir pour Alger. 22. Venez-vous au lieu de M. votre père ? 23. Je dois écrire au lieu de lui. 24. Le concert a-t-il lieu ce matin? 25. Il doit avoir lieu cette après-midi. 26. Savez-vous à quelle heure ? 27. A cinq heures moins un quart.

LESSONS IN SHORTHAND.-I.

INTRODUCTION.

THE system of shorthand which we shall present to our readers for their study and practice is that invented by Mr. Isaac Pitman, of Bath. The merits and the justly earned popularity of this system are so great that we are convinced no other system would be accepted by our readers. The author holds copyright in it, and we have obtained his consent for its appear ance in the POPULAR EDUCATOR. Our first lesson will consist of a few preliminary observations on language in general, and its representation by alphabetic signs. In the next lesson we shall set our pupils to work in writing the shorthand characters. The editors of this work employ this style of writing, and thereby save much time. They can, therefore, with confidence recommend it to their readers.

An easy and distinct mode of communicating our thoughts and feelings to similarly constituted beings, is one of the first and most pressing wants of social life. Looks, signs, gestures, are not in all cases sufficiently expressive, and it would be difficult to imagine that two human beings, whose vocal organs were unimpaired, should pass any considerable length of time in each other's company without using articulate sounds as their medium of communication. Indeed, we never find a family of human beings without a common language. As long as intercourse between family and family remains difficult, each family has its own language. Facilitation of intercourse diminishes the number of dialects; and now that travelling is becoming so general, we may look forward with some degree of hope to a time when "the whole earth" shall again be "of one language and of one speech." But however great the facility of travelling may become, there will always exist a necessity for a means of communication independent of personal intercourse. To effect this, recourse must necessarily be had to durable, visible signs. The day may be far distant in which a universal language will be realised, but the means by which it will be expressed when it has grown into existence, and which, if previously prepared, may have great influence on its formation, may be already developed. The human organs of speech are the same in all the world, their mode of action is the same, and therefore the sounds which they are capable of producing are the same. From these sounds, which probably do not exceed one hundred for the expression of all the languages in the world, each group of families, called a nation, has adopted a comparatively small number to express its own ideas. But the first persons who struck out the noble idea of representing the sounds of speech, were not acquainted with any languages beyond their own; or, at most, beyond the group of languages to which their own belonged; and they consequently limited their signs to the expression of those elements only with which they were acquainted. Their success was various; but in one of the oldest systems of writing arranged on this principle, the Sanscrit, we have an example of the most perfect attempt at representing the elements of spoken sounds by visible signs that has yet been adopted by a whole nation as the dress of their literature.

The European languages, it is well known, are closely related to the Sanscrit, and a very slight modification of the Sanscrit characters would have fitted them for the representation of the elements of European sounds. But it was not to be. The Europeans probably left India before the invention of writing; and the idea of representing the elementary sounds of speech by visible signs, seems to have been conveyed to them from a totally different quarter. The languages known as the Semitic, namely,

the Hebrew, Syriac, and Arabic, contain sounds very dissimilar to the European, with, of course, some similar or identical; and the first imperfect attempt to represent these sounds in a kind of skeleton character, was brought by commerce from Phoenicia to Greece. The Greeks adopted the characters of the Phoenicians, and as their pronunciation of the Phoenician names for the first two characters in the scheme was alpha, béta, the term "alphabet" has descended to modern times as the name of any collection of symbols which represent the elements of spoken sounds. That this alphabet did not represent the Phoenician language with great accuracy, is more than probable; but it certainly represented the Greek language much worse. The Greeks contented themselves with rounding the forms of the letters, and adding one or two characters, chiefly contractions, and thus left the alphabet to come down to posterity. But the mischief of the original error still remains. The Romans adopted the Greek characters, with a few unimportant variations; notwithstanding which, it remained very inadequate to the representation of Latin; while the northern nations who came down like locusts upon the Roman empire, seized upon the Roman letters among the other spoils, and violently contorted them for the representation of languages which differed most remarkably from the Latin, both in the number and quality of the elementary sounds. Some few (the Sclavonic, for example) were happy enough to escape this second Babel, and rejoice in a convenient alphabet of their own. But each nation that did use the Roman alphabet, used it in its own fashion, and the variety of fashions thus introduced was, as may be supposed, very great. At length, out of a mixture of Saxon, Danish, French, Latin, and Greek elements, arose our own tongue, harsh and uncouth at first, but gradually winning its way, and now bidding fair, by its own inherent merits, by the richness of its literature, and by the extent of our commerce, to become, if not the universal language itself, its immediate progenitor. "The English language," observes the late eminent philologist, Professor Jacob Grimm, "possesses a power of expression such as was never, perhaps, attained by any human tongue. Its altogether intellectual and singularly happy foundation and development has arisen from a surprising alliance between the two noblest languages of antiquity-the German and the Romanesque-the relation of which to each other is well known to be such that the former supplies the material foundation, the latter the abstract notions. Yes, truly, the English language may with good reason call itself a universal language, and seems chosen, like the English people, to rule, in future times, in a still greater degree, in all the corners of the earth. In richness, sound reason, and flexibility, no modern tongue can be compared with it-not even the German, which must shake off many a weakness before it can enter the lists with the English."

But into this language, which grew up almost unawares, as a wild plant in a fertile soil, the mode of writing each word was (with, of course, frequent variations) copied from the language from which the word itself was derived; each of these languages using the Roman alphabet after its own fashion. Custom sanctioned the abuse, and at the present day we have a mode of spelling so far removed from any apparent attempt to represent the sounds of speech, that we should scarcely have guessed there had ever been any intention of doing so, had we not known its history. The English language, although arrived at a high pitch of refinement, is, in its dress, almost in the primitive ideagraphic stage. Its words are symbols of ideas rather than of sounds, and it is only after severe, long, and harassing practice that we can be sure of associating the right sound with the right sign. "The present alphabet," observes Mr. Ellis, in his admirable "Plea for Phonetic Spelling," "considered as the groundwork of a system of orthography in which the phonetic system prevails, is an entire failure. It is defective in means for representing several sounds, and the symbols it employs are used in senses so various that the mind of the reader becomes perplexed. Digraphs must be looked upon as single letters quite as much as the single letters themselves; for they have not the value of a combination of letters, but of one letter. Viewed in this light, the English alphabet will be found to consist, not of twenty-six letters only, but of more than 200! and almost every one of these 200 symbols varies its meaning at times, so that, after having learned one meaning for each of them, the reader has not learned all their meanings; and having learned all their meanings, he has no means of knowing which one he is to apply

at any time. These assertions are so extraordinary, that they require to be strictly proved." This Mr. Ellis proceeds to do in an elaborate series of tables. "We violate every principle of a sound alphabetical system more outrageously than any nation whatever. Our characters do not correspond to our articulations, and our spelling of words cannot be matched for irregularity and whimsical caprice."

To this disregard of the principles of a true orthography, and the consequent difficulty of acquiring a correct knowledge of spelling and pronunciation, may be referred the fact that millions speak the English language who cannot read or write it. It also causes a great waste of time in the attainment of the elements of learning by the young. Many practical educators have considered the adoption of a system of orthography by which these evils would be removed, as highly desirable, but it has generally been thought to be unattainable. The truth which Shakespeare has embodied in the well-known lines

"There's a Divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will,"

should ever inspire men with energy and perseverance to do something, however small, to rectify error, and replace evil by good. That which few had courage even to hope for, has been realised through the apparently unimportant circumstance of the publication, in 1837, of a new system of shorthand, based on an analysis of the English spoken language. The author of this system of Phonography had originally no intention to disturb the established orthography of the language, and in the third edition of his work, published in 1840, he observed, "It is, of course, Utopian to hope to change the printed medium of intercourse of the millions who speak the English language; but it is not extravagant or hopeless to attempt to find a substitute for the complicated system of writing which we at present employ." In about a year after this opinion was published, the success of phonetic shorthand writing led many who employed the system to ask why the principle of phonetic spelling, so advantageous in writing, should not be applied to printing. The blessings that would follow the introduction of a natural system of spelling, and the evils of the current orthography, then began to appear in their true light; and after many attempts to construct a phonetic printing alphabet, with correspending forms for longhand writing, phonetic printing commenced in January, 1844, in the Phonotypic Journal. We are encouraged to hope, from what has already been effected in the production and dissemination of books printed phonetically, that, in the course of time, the current orthography will give place to a system in which the phonetic idea will be uniformly respected. Several attempts to construct and bring into use a phonetic alphabet have been made at different times, by men eminent in literature; but these attempts were characterised by extreme inattention to details, and society had not in any degree been prepared for the change. The cause of orthographic reform was pioneered by Sir John Cheke in 1540, by Bishop Wilkins in 1668, and by Dr. Franklin in 1768. The fear which is entertained by some, that the etymology of words will be obscured by the introduction of phonetic spelling, is groundless. One of the highest English authorities on this subject, Dr. Latham, says, "All objections to change [in spelling] on the matter of theoretical propriety, are as worthless as they ever could be thought to be;" and the late learned Chevalier Bunsen asserts that phonetic spelling is "comparative philology combined with universal ethnology," that the introduction of a phonetic alphabet is the "generally-felt desideratum of the age," and that "the theory of etymology is inseparable from that of phonology." Max Müller observes, "I feel convinced of the truth and reasonableness of the principles on which phonetic spelling rests, and as the innate regard for truth and reason, however dormant or timid at times, has always proved irresistible in the end, enabling men to part with all they hold most dear and sacred, whether corn laws, or Stuart dynasties, or papal legates, or heathen idols, I doubt not that the effete and corrupt orthography will follow in their train. Nations have before now changed their numerical figures, their letters, their chronology, their weights and measures; and though Mr. Pitman may not live to see the results of his persevering and disinterested exertions, it requires no prophetic power to perceive that what at present is pooh-poohed by the many, will make its way in the end, unless met by arguments stronger than those hitherto levelled

at the Fonetik Nus. One argument which might be supposed to weigh with the student of language, namely, the obscuration of the etymological structure of words, I cannot consider very formidable. The pronunciation of languages changes according to fixed laws; the spelling is changed in the most arbitrary manner, so that if our spelling followed the pronunciation of words, it would in reality be a greater help to the critical student of language than the present uncertain and unscientific mode of writing."

But it is not merely the inconsistency of English orthography of which we have to complain. The characters employed in ordinary writing are too lengthy and complicated to allow of their being written with expedition. A system of writing is required that shall bring the operations of the mind and of the hand into close correspondence; and, by making writing as easy and as rapid as speech, shall relieve the penman from the drudgery inseparable from the use of the present system. In allusion to this great want of the present age, it was remarked in the Introduction to the fifth edition of Phonography, 1842, "There has hitherto existed among all nations the greatest disparity, in point of facility and dispatch, between speaking and writing: the former has always been comparatively rapid, easy, and delightful; the latter tedious, cumbrous, and wearisome. It is most strange that we, who excel our progenitors so far in science, literature, and commerce, should continue to use the mode of writing which they have handed down to us (with but very slight changes in the forms of the letters), though, by its complexity, it obliges the readiest hand to spend at least six hours in writing what can be spoken in one." Phonography supplies this great want by presenting a system of alphabetic writing, capable of being written with the speed of the most rapid distinct articulation, and of being read with the certainty and ease of ordinary longhand. This perfect legibility is not possessed by any of the common systems of shorthand writing, which, being based upon the Roman alphabet, necessarily partake of its inconsistencies and deficiencies. It is well known that manuscripts written in accordance with other systems of shorthand, can seldom be read by more than one or two persons besides the writer, and after a short time, usually become undecipherable to the writer himself. On the other hand, phonography, which has for many years been used by thousands of persons in letter-writing, is found to be even more legible than ordinary longhand.

By phonography, as adapted to reporting, in a work entitled "The Reporter's Companion," the most fluent speaker may be taken down, absolutely word for word, and the reporter's notes may be set up in type by any phonographic compositor who can read the reporting style; or if the reporter reads over his notes, and inserts a few vowels, his manuscript may then be read, with the facility of ordinary writing, by any one who has learned the system. Verbatim reports of speeches have been set up by the compositors of the Bath Journal, Norfolk News, New York Tribune, and other English and American newspapers, without having been transcribed into longhand. As it is calculated that six hours are required to transcribe for the press what occupied one hour in delivery, this new system of reporting, while it is incomparably more accurate than the old systems, has the additional advantage of saving five hours out of every six at present devoted to preparing the report for the press.

The system of shorthand writing here presented, is the result of innumerable stenographic experiments, extending over a period of thirty years. These experiments were undertaken in order to ascertain the signs best adapted for the expression of the acknowledged sounds of the language. The great practice which the system has received, and is still receiving, from the many thousands who constantly use it, not merely for reporting, but for the various purposes of every-day life, such as writing letters, making notes and extracts, keeping accounts, composition, etc., and the great liberality with which they have communicated their suggestions to the author, have enabled him to produce a work far exceeding in completeness, beauty, and utility, anything he could have hoped for at its first publication in 1837; and he believes that as no other system of shorthand has had such great advantages, or is based upon so just and philosophical a view of the elements of spoken language, so no other has attained the same degree of perfection, or possesses the same undeniable legibility, combined with the same adaptability to the most rapid execution.

LESSONS IN ITALIAN.—I.

INTRODUCTION.

I PROPOSE to teach the grammar, structure, and vocabulary of the Italian language by a method not commonly adopted by the learned. A considerable experience in tuition has convinced me that a strict adherence to scientific forms, though all-important in the cultivation of a language, does not tend to the advantage of the learner. Writers of practical grammar err, for the most part, in studying system too much. They teach grammar as they would the pure mathematics, as if an abstract science of itself, and not as a practical guide through the idiomatic intricacies of living languages. Such instructions may be very scientific in form, but they do not follow nature: there is no due separation of that which is the foundation, or, as it were, the skeleton of a language, from those things which are the ornaments, the delicacies, the accidents, and exceptions of speech. A language should be taught as anatomy is taught. We must first thoroughly study the bones, if we would successfully trace the intricate ramifications of nerves and arteries. The learner of a foreign tongue cannot for himself judge of what is material or immaterial to his sure and rapid progress. It will be my endeavour to instruct by a colloquial and natural, rather than a grammatical and purely scientific method.

The Italian language has for a long time been regarded in this country as a fashionable branch of education. Knowledge of it has been reckoned an indispensable accomplishment of cultivated society, but rather, as it would seem to me, as a serviceable attendant at Italian picture galleries and operas, than as a guide to the philosophy of a Dante, the invention of an Ariosto, or the sagacity of a Machiavelli. The present is perhaps the first considerable attempt that has been made to popularise this noble and melodious tongue.

The Italian is the first-born of the old language of Rome, and owns a strength and beauty worthy of its noble origin. In cultivation, it is the oldest of European tongues. When Dante wrote, English, French, and German were comparatively rude dialects. To Italy the world owes the preservation and regeneration of learning and the arts; and its fine soil, the fertile mother of great spirits of old, has produced to the latest times men who have enriched every intellectual pursuit alike by their genius and learning. The language in which they expressed that infinite variety of thought and sentiment, contains a literature, the rich mine of which is in foreign countries only known to solitary and toilsome explorers. The time may not be distant when the increased intercommunication of nations, and the progress of popular education, will lay these rich treasures open to the many.

one.

For its own intrinsic merits, however, as a language, Italian deserves to be studied by every one who would enjoy the pleasures of style, inexhaustible in variety: the energy of Dante, the graphic power of Boccaccio, the lyrical grace of Petrarca, the refinement of Ariosto, the ornament of Tasso, the satire of Berni and Aretino, the historical dignity of Guicciardini and Botta, the point and perspicuity of Machiavelli, the hilarity of Casti, the music of Metastasio, and the Roman manliness of Alfieri. And they who would cultivate language for its excellence must seek that of Italy for the ideal beauty of expression. My method will be a natural, a simple, and, I trust, an easy I shall discard, as much as possible, all the conventional terms of grammar. I shall not travel by the old beaten pathway through the parts of speech. My grammatical progress will imitate the action of the mind in the formation of a sentence, with a due regard to peculiarities of idiom. As a child first learns the name of a thing, I begin with the noun, as soon as I have clearly explained the principles of pronunciation; and as the child demonstrates its progress in thinking by connecting an action or suffering with the object named, I shall proceed at once to the verbs. The verb is the life of a language, and he who knows the verbs thoroughly has mastered the chief difficulty of his task. The remaining kinds of words will be taught and discussed in the same natural order.

These lessons will contain, if I may so speak, two grammars. Presuming that I may find two classes of readers-one anxious for knowledge by the most easy and rapid manner, the other with more preparation, inclination, and leisure for study-I have so shaped my labour as to combine in a form sufficiently marked, though not separated, an elementary grammar which

shall give the before-mentioned indispensable foundation and skeleton; and a grammatical treatise which shall, with philosophical reasons, satisfactorily explain the ornaments, the delicacies, the accidents, and exceptions of the language.

As I have said, I shall not divide my grammar into parts of speech, but into paragraphs. In the paragraphs I shall distinctly mark the line of separation between the elementary grammar and the grammatical treatise by the title of "ADDITIONAL REMARKS." The student who only desires to learn the language sufficiently to enable him to read, speak, and write with tolerable accuracy, need only attend to the numbered paragraphs; but he who would learn the language thoroughly, must follow me closely and carefully in all I may find occasion to say in the additional remarks.

Each paragraph will be complete in itself-a decided step in the knowledge of the language. Every principle of the language will be clearly illustrated by examples, including vocabularies and exercises.

I have now only to ask the earnest and patient attention of my pupil readers.

I. ON THE PRONUNCIATION OF ITALIAN..

The

I shall teach the pronunciation of the Italian language in more detail than is generally pursued in English tuition. profit to be derived from the study of any living language is much less if we are unable to pronounce it correctly. We can make little practical use of our theoretical acquirements, if in communication with those to whom this language is the mother tongue; we can neither make ourselves understood when we speak, nor understand when we are spoken to. And besides, no man, though he may gather the sense, can relish or even comprehend the beauties or delicacies of great poets, and prose writers, too, in any language, and more especially in that of Italy, without an accurate knowledge of the sounds. In reading such poets as Ariosto or Tasso, the pleasure does not consist altogether in appreciating the thoughts, or even shades of thoughts, but in the faculty to enjoy that divine harmony to which they have attuned the language. One may relish the beauty of the rose, but if he be deprived of the sense of smell, he can admire only a lifeless beauty. Such students of the Italian poets, to use a more homely figure, may read their poetry with the satisfaction with which one might admire a Turkey carpet, who has seen the reverse side only. There is no insuperable or even very considerable difficulty in mastering Italian pronunciation; but a thoughtful attention to some leading principles, and a student-like diligence, are conditions essential to success. My thoughtful and industrious pupils will very soon find that a prolixity in this the very outset of my labours which might seem trifling, is really most important-one of the fundamental parts of the language.

I am aware that I am writing for the most part for adult readers; but let them for a little space forget the dignity of manhood; for every learner of a language, be he as old as Cato was when he learnt Greek, should be regarded as a child learning to express his thoughts. Indeed, the more he is taught a foreign tongue as the child his mother's speech, the better for him.

A living language can never be accurately and completely expressed by signs. They who profess the contrary only mislead the uninformed. But a tolerable approach to accuracy in fixing pronunciation may be made by letter-signs representing analogous sounds familiar to the ear in one's own language. If one has made himself so familiar with the imitated sounds, as to have acquired a considerable vocal command of the leading ones, he may very soon accurately and permanently acquire them, by a few brief communications with an educated native.

Perhaps the most useful beginning I can make, is to point out the leading errors which Englishmen commit in pronouncing Italian. The reason of this is, that men are apt to transfer involuntarily the peculiarities of their own language to that which they are studying. The first effort, therefore, in learning to pronounce Italian, should be to forget your native peculiarities. In the mastery of the pronunciation of the continental languages, and particularly of Italian, the Englishman's great difficulty is in the vowels.

The Englishman, perhaps from childhood, has heard no vowel sounds but those of his own island-his four sounds of a, his four sounds of o, his three sounds of u, his two sounds of e, and

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