is not concerned with the non-whites of various races and
various and inconsistent degrees of subjection or citizenship,
who dwell in Pan-Angle countries. The aborigines of the United
States and Canada, of New Zealand and Australia, are now
problems of the past, solved according to nature's rule of the
survival of the fittest. They could not live and increase in the
environment the white man was strong enough to throw about them.
The negro, numbering almost four times the whites in South
Africa[27-2] and one-eighth of the whites in America,[27-3] is a
problem yet unsolved, for nature has not yet made it clear
which, all things considered, is the most fit. He not only
thrives in contact with whites, but with his low standard of
living multiplies more rapidly. The Asiatic races are the
problem of the future. In every quarter we see a determination
that it shall not grow beyond its present incipient stage. All
Pan-Angle nations may not be able to obtain, as Australia wishes
to, an exclusively white population. {28} But each nation,
whenever non-whites appear to endanger the success of white
local self-government, are able to exclude from the privilege of
the franchise any non-assimilable inhabitants. In each of these
seven nations white local autonomy is recognized as necessary.
The existence of these problems in no way modifies the
definition of Pan-Angles as English-speaking whites who are the
self-governing forces in the seven above-named nations.
The language Pan-Angles speak grew out of the Germanic tongues
of the Saxons, Angles, Danes, and Jutes. Our most common and
familiar words have been in uninterrupted use since the days of
those invaders.[28-1] To this Teutonic basis was added the
French of the Northmen called Normans. A proclamation of 1258 is
sometimes called the first specimen of English,[28-2] but its
resemblance to modern speech is not for the uninstructed to
discern. Through the thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen hundreds
English took on a form more intelligible to us of to-day. In the
latter part of the fifteen hundreds a great poet and playwright
employed it so effectively that his diction and style became a
standard.[28-3] From the same epoch dates the translation of the
Bible and its popular use. "The English version of the Bible
remains the noblest example of the English tongue, while its
perpetual use made it from the {29} instant of its appearance
the standard of our language."[29-1]
Thus it came about that in the _Mayflower_ and other early
emigrant ships was carried to the new countries an English of
authenticated stamp. The standards then recognized are still
recognized. This was, however, the English of books and
education. Each shire of England in its own speech bore witness
to its past. Kent and Yorkshire often could not understand each
other, and words used in one were unknown to the other. The
emigrating Englander carried with him accordingly, besides the
English as established for educated men, the common dialect of
his neighbourhood. In the colonies these differences tended to
vanish under the influence of the press, free schools, and easy
methods of travel; though occasionally in a word, or here and
there a pronunciation, the delighted etymologist sees the ghost
of some local English usage, as in the old Devon still spoken in
Newfoundland.[29-2] In England these local variations of speech
have persisted longer, and still puzzle the unaccustomed ear. In
America there still exist words and expressions which when they
left England were in good usage, but which have there since been
dropped. Though the dictionaries of to-day call it an
Americanism, Shakespeare wrote: "Better far, I guess, That we do
make our entrance several ways."[29-3]
{30}
The variety and interest of the English language does not lie
alone in these historical survivals. It has been, and still is,
constantly enriched from outside itself. In the colonies and
dependencies, and in foreign lands as well, the English language
has come in contact with practically all the tongues of the
earth. From these it has helped itself according to need or
fancy. The result gives locally a strong dash of colour which
inevitably tends to tinge the whole. Ranch, trek, amok, portage,
taboo, tomahawk, coolie,--have long since ceased to serve
limited communities, and stand acknowledged in our dictionaries
besides words of Saxon and Norman pedigrees. Spruit, kai,
bilabong,--if not lost altogether will come to the same dignity.
Whether the new word is taken from another language or coined
from English roots as local slang, the story of a growth in
usage is the same. The "tramp" and "sun-downer" may consort
together in any library with a "creeper," a "tenderfoot," and a
"new chum." In language usages we have no authority but our own
desires.
Such is our language, a living thing growing in parts, dying in
parts, and ever ready to adapt itself to local needs. It is,
moreover, uniform, as nearly as any living tongue can be
uniform. The peculiarities of speech observed in different
localities are enough to furnish picturesque touches for a novel
and humour to the stage, but never [30-1] {31} enough to make
even the slightest barrier 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 not too strongly emphasize the word
'kindly' since he had come to England--how they were getting on
in the United States assimilating the endless hordes of people
from all lands who came to their shores. He did not wish {37} to
boast. He was a humble man from the humblest of countries.
(Laughter.) But he was delighted to assure them that the
Anglo-Saxon, or British, race, who settled the United States
first, shaped its destinies, directed its energies, according to
their conscience, against their own Motherland, and developed
themselves and the great territory which they subdued, to this
day, no matter how many men came from how many lands, still
ruled it and led it. (Cheers.) And there was no time in sight
when that would have changed. Every President of the United
States had been of English or Scottish blood dominantly. Out of
121 mayors of cities only 11 per cent. had names which showed
that they or their predecessors came from countries other than
the United Kingdom. Only 14 per cent. of the representative men
who took part in the government of the United States in the
House of Representatives or the Senate bore foreign names, which
left 86 per cent. who came from the United Kingdom. The
Anglo-Saxon was quite as much the leader of men in the great
Republic as he was in the great United Kingdom. That was not a
boast; it was a natural phenomenon. It was destiny, and they
could not help it if they would. Americans deserved no
particular praise for it. They believed, just as Englishmen
believed, that they were born to rule the world."[37-1] "That
complacency which never deserts a true-born Englishman"[37-2]
speaks wherever a Pan-Angle voice is raised. {38} Foreign
testimony on this point in our character is unanimous, but no
foreigner can demonstrate so vividly the arrogance of our
self-satisfaction as do we in our every act and attitude.
Moreover, what do most of us care about what foreigners think?
Was it not Dr. Johnson who said, "All foreigners are mostly
fools"?[38-1]
As Pan-Angles we are, in short, the cream of the earth. As
Britishers, Americans or Australians we are the cream of the
cream. As Englanders, Missourians, or Queenslanders we are
something even more superlative. As Londoners, St. Louisans, or
Brisbanians,--words fail to express the height of our
self-approval. The Englander says little on the subject but,
like the calm ungainsayable fog of his habitat, simply is. If
called from his high estate to pass judgment, he characterizes
the rest of the world as "beastly peculiar." "Colonials," in
this term he lumps also the inhabitants of the United States,
are to him unfortunates, having "jolly rotten luck to live way
off out there." The American, more nervously pitched, raises his
voice and talks long about his bigness. "You call that a river?"
he indicates the Thames. "Why, if we had a damp streak like that
in one of our fields in Iowa, we'd tile it just to keep from
getting our feet wet crossing." The Australian, conscious that
little attention has been paid him as yet, and conscious too
that his "potentialities" are really great, {39} aggressively
balances a chip for the inspection of critics. His sheep, his
harbour, his apples, his stars--woe to anyone who fails to
acquiesce in their paramount excellence! "And after all," he
sighs, returned from the other fair places of the earth, "after
all, there is only one Sydney."
Such are our local prides, or such at least do they appear in
their most blatant types. "The habit of brag runs through all
classes"[39-1] wherever we live. Those of us who observe the
good form of appearing tolerably meek-minded, are perhaps at
heart no more so. Why, then, do we smile tolerantly at all the
world and take no offence at each other. Because each is
confident of his own place in the sun, and confident too that
the Pan-Angles, although he may not use that term, by virtue of
these very local prides, are one in their desire and
determination to maintain their civilization against all others
who are not of our language and our ways.
An American was one day asked by a cutlery salesman from
Birmingham (England), "Are you not humiliated by having no
national language?" "We have one," was the prompt reply; "it is
English." So would have spoken a Canadian or a Newfoundlander, a
South African, a New Zealander, or an Australian. That is one of
our prides. Our language is ours. It reflects our many-rooted
origins, our varied and severally branched histories, our
constantly converging growths. It binds us to the ideals of our
kind. Its very name takes us in imagination to the infancy of
our race, where {40} from subservience to the wills of others
the individual emerged. "The English have given importance to
individuals, a principal end and fruit of every society. Every
man is allowed and encouraged to be what he is, and is guarded
in the indulgence of his whim. 'Magna Charta,' said Rushworth,
'is such a fellow that he will have no sovereign.' By this
general activity and by this sacredness of individuals, they
have in seven hundred years evolved the principles of freedom.
It is the land of patriots, martyrs, sages and bards, and if the
ocean out of which it emerged should wash it away, it will be
remembered as an island famous for immortal laws, for the
announcement of original right which make the stone tables of
liberty."[40-1] To acknowledge the relation of America to the
land of these struggles and their earliest successes can never
be humiliating. England's past belongs to us all, and to-day
England is one of us. There, was cradled the individualism of
our Teuton forbears that has grown into a civilizing world-wide
domination. We all have helped to nurture and shield it. We are
as seven guardians whose harmony is secured not only because
they are one in aim and method but because being one in language
they are bound into understanding.
The Pan-Angle enjoys the highest standard of living known to any
comparable number of people in the world, either formerly or
to-day. If civilization depends on the margin of wealth above
mere {41} means of existence, Pan-Angles are the most civilized
of the races.
Given a hypothetical community possessed only of such material
resources that all the energies of every member must be used to
provide food and protection from the elements, and there is
presented the lowest possible standard of living. Anything lower
would mean starvation, exposure, and death. Add but ever so
little to those resources, so that some few, still fed and
sheltered, may employ their energies in other ways, and they may
become scientists and prolong the lives of their fellows and
teach them more productive methods of food getting; they may
become artists and poets for the delight and recreation of the
rest; they may devise laws and systems of government to regulate
labour and control wealth; and may develop certain instinctive
cravings into hopeful religions. The community has now taken its
first steps toward what we call civilization. Add further to the
resources, increase the amount of energy that can be spent in
channels other than the maintenance of life, and there is
developed a complex organism, with churches and schools, music
and literature, steam transportation, electric machinery, and
contrivances of many other sorts to make life comfortable,
enjoyable, and inspiring. Between this hypothetical primitive
community and civilization as the Pan-Angles understand it are
many stages, some of them occupied to-day by our neighbours
whose material resources have not increased to the extent of
ours. Now, of all the world, the people having most time and
strength {42} after their physical necessities are secured are
the Pan-Angles.
The per capita wealth and the per capita land holdings of the
Pan-Angles are greater than those of any other comparable number
of people. Their diet is more generous, more costly, and more
varied. Their apparel is more expensive, and their housing more
capacious and more comfortable. They are able to support a
greater number of instructors and entertainers in their writers,
artists, and musicians. Hardly an act of their lives, hardly an
article they use, but has some embellishment not strictly
necessary to life and utility. With all this the Pan-Angles, so
much have they beyond the mere means of existence, furnish
lavishly the pleasures of the so-called "higher life" to their
own souls. They study philosophies and ponder the rights of man;
they support the weak and economically useless with the proceeds
of their own labour. They send of their wealth to other
civilizations, as missionary reports testify, trying to
contribute to their welfare. And with all this spending, they
still have at their disposal such resources that they increase
in numbers from generation to generation, and each generation
has more than the generation before.
The reason for this high standard of living is not far to seek.
We have all this because we have been strong enough to take
land, the source of food and shelter, the basis of all life and
wealth. The Teutons came and took England; the Normans came and
took England; and Pan-Angles since have taken land in every
continent and throughout the seas: from the bleak coast {43} and
rich shore-fisheries of the Labrador to the fertile plains of
the Missouri and the grassy ranges of Otago. In Canada and the
United States for years land was the prize that the country
offered to pioneers, giving thousands of acres in parcels of one
hundred and sixty as long as they lasted. From their land and
sea-coast holdings, the Pan-Angles have taken the yield of fish
and grain and meat; and those who laboured in getting food
produced enough for themselves and for their fellows who were
working in other ways. Besides food, these lands provided many
other of the essentials of the standard of living we desire.
Other lands rich in promise came under the Pan-Angle gaze. Often
there seemed the best of reasons why we should not go and live
there. We thereupon set up additional factories at home and made
cloth and knives above our own demands to send out to those
countries in trade. By working at home in smoky cities we were
able to gather the food and the luxuries we wanted from all
parts of the world. These lands we have taken into our custody
in order to guarantee our trade supremacy. Unproductive spots
here and there, such as Gibraltar, Aden, Singapore, and Hong
Kong, we have been forced to hold to facilitate and protect our
trade. In the main we acquired some very valuable pieces--the
most valuable in sight some of our rivals have thought. We never
know how valuable a place may be, and, conversely, we never
appreciate what a nuisance a place may be until after we have
taken it. Yet, the nuisances we try to turn to useful account.
{44}