Livre de lecture latine, par le D' A. Bos. Paris, 1877, pet. in-8° (iv)-xvj-572 p.

M. le docteur Bos s'est imposé la tâche ingrate de réagir contre une des mauvaises habitudes de notre enseignement, en substituant à la manière toute conventionnelle dont nous prononçons le latin des notions plus exactes, plus positives et plus précises. On ne peut que le féliciter de cette entreprise. Le présent ouvrage est un recueil de textes de diverses époques, fort bien choisis vraiment, avec des notes et des observations extrêmement intéressantes. Il ne semble pas que la prononciation rectifiée soit si désagréable ; elle vaut assurément bien la prononciation classique actuelle. On ne peut donc qu'applaudir aux efforts de M. Bos et souhaiter très vivement qu'il réussisse. J. V.

Revue hispanique, recueil publié par R. FOULCHEDELBOSC. 4 année, no 10, mars 1897.

Numéro extrêmement intéressant: P. Fabra, Phonologie catalane; H. Peseux-Richard, Remarques sur le Diccionario de Galicismos de Baralt; Caspar Ens, Phantasio-Cratuminos, sive homo vitreus, reissued; A. G. V. João de Dios; M. Kaiserling, Quelques proverbes judéo-espagnols; R. Foulché-Delbosc, L'Espagne dans les Orientales de Victor Hugo; comptes rendus. J. V.

The men of science have begun to attack the cradle. For some time the nursery and the play-room have been subject to their attention, and now the very citadel of baby hood is to be stormed. First came the folklorists, and laid their sacrilegious hands upon « Puss-in-Boots » and the « Sleeping Beauty », showing that these stories contained we know not what marvellous indications as to the origin of mankind and the universality of particular beliefs. The next positions assaulted by science were the nurseryrhymes and the games such as « Here we go round the Mulberry-Bush » and « Oranges and Lemons ». Some of the jingles and by children were shown to have deep political and moral meanings; others, like the counting-out games, were exposed as the remains of dark and deadly incantations. « The cow that Jumped Over the Moon » is we believe, asserted to be a piece of gnosticism.« Ten Little Nigger Boys » is a charm probably against the rheumatics. « Hickery Dickery Dock », though it sounds like nonsense, is composed in gipsy language, Romany lyric. But there were mere affairs of outposts. Mr. Buckman, in the May number of the Nineteenth Century, has had the cradle and that when our child's first accents break they are not delicious nonsense, sweet babblings of the tiny human brook, but a highly organised system of infantile Volapuk. Mr. Buckmann in all seriousness parades before the reader's astonished eyes the essential words of the baby's vocabulary. «Ma », he tells us, is an urgent cry of attention. So we have ourselves gathered. « Ma », indeed, is so universal a word that even the lambs use it. « The lamb, greatly excited to make itself

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heard, says ma ', while the mother (sheep), not moved by so strong feelings, answers' ba' ». What the human mother says when not moved by such strong feelings » as her infant, weare not told by Mr. Buckman. We believe, however, that when her feelings match those of her offspring she is not unknown to reach to the height of such a phrase as « Drat the child, what does it want now? » But to continue, « Da, dadda » is the next item in the universal language of babes. It is described as cry of recognition now applied to the father». True, but unfortunately the recognition is often very imperfect, and it is not unusual for a total stranger in an omnibus or railway carriage to be addressed over and over again as « Da, dadda », the imperfect and embarrassing recognition being enforced by the placing of a much-sucked index finger or a sodden crust on the knee of the stranger. «Ta, tatta », we are told, is « a sign of recognition now applied to strangers ». Here, again, our experience supports Mr. Buckman. The child vill often apply it the instant a stranger enters upon an afternoon call, waving a small hand to enforce its dismissal of the intruder.

But we cannot follow Mr. Buckman's vocabulary any further, or inquire how far «ach » or «ah » is not « a general conversational word », or « kah » « a strong sign of displeasure at anything nasty to the taste ». Again, «ba-ha » must remain undiscussed, nor can we debate the examples furnished of Isabel's talk at two and a half years old or at three and a half, of Ella's at three or of George's at four or five, except to say that we have not of recent years met any children whose language was so simple and primitive. What surprises one with children of three or four nowadays, is to find a young lady or gentleman who does not talk with an entire plainness of utterance, and employ the syllogism with a complete mastery of its uses. We recall how a small boy of four listened to the talk about a new house, and when he thought that the night nursery had been omitted, struck in with « I must have a night nursery the evenings will come to the new house just the same ». Every one must have met examples of the logical case often put against going to bed at a slightly diffe

rent hour, or under slightly different conditions. « Nurse always comes to fetch met to go to bed. Nurse hasn't come to fetch me. I won' go to bed ». The baby who assumes this kind of attitude and enforces it in perfectly clear and well-cut sentences, is apparently unknown to Mr. Buckman. Another category of infant speech is as little known to him. He mentions the child's habit of decapitating and decaudating its words «'håve» for behave, or << pram for perambulator - but he says comparatively little about the power shown by children to make what the author of << Alice in Wonderland » so happily calls portmanteau words. A portmanteau word is a word which has another word packed inside it, or, to put it in another way, two words and two ideas are run together, and a compound, which is also a new word, is produced. For example, a girl of under three was lately told that she was going abroad, and also that she was going to reach foreign parts by going on board ship. A mere grown-up person would have plodded on, using the two phrases side by side. But at two and three-quarters the mind is too alert for these dull ways, and a portmanteau word was soon produced. « When am I going abroadships?» became a half-hourly question. How much more expression and how much less long than « when am I going abroad on board ship? » Both the new and important ideas of foreign travel and sea-voyage are covered over by that «< one narrow word », « abroadships ». There is of course, nothing the least remarkable in such a compound. Every nursery can furnish examples of new words which often display far more euphony and also far better logic than the dreadful words produced by the men of science as labels for their new discoveries in the regions of applied chemistry. The speech of children shows also a wonderful quickness and resource in the matter of supplying the language with direct phrases and forms of speech. While the grown-ups are content to walk round, the child takes a verbal shortcut. Children are very seldom content with such round-about devices as « Had not I better » do this or that. << Bettern't I » is the much more direct and much more expressive form adopted in almost all nurseries. Take, again the word

<< whobody to match with « anybody » and «< somebody ». When the facetious parent remarks, « Somebody's been walking on this flower-bed », he may, if his offspring is inclined to ingenuities of language, be answered by the interrogation « Whobody? » There portmanteau words and shortent phrases show that if children could only be induced to keep up the verbal habits prevalent from two to five, our language might be indefinitely enriched. Unfortunately after five or six the language of children is apt to become pedantically conventional and correct. The child of ten, indeed, seems often to be training himself for a fauteuil in Mr. Stead's proposed Academy. He stops what he considers a new or unauthorised word like a suspected person. Every phrase is challenged and inspected, and the parent or uncle who makes a slip in grammar or pronunciation, or steps outside the conventional rut, is pounced upon and corrected with all the primness of a pedagogue. The boy of ten, no doubt, has the command of a certain amount of slang, but it is of a limited and defined kind. A special vocabulary is in use at his school, but outside this vocabulary the schoolboy does not think it good form to travel. The language of children at this stage is, indeed, exceedingly amusing on account of its cast-iron strickness. For months, nay, years, together one word of commendation is considered sufficient for all needs. Ask a boy of ten to describe his chief friend to you, to tell you, that is, what kind of a boy he is. Almost certainly you will get as your answer, << He's a very decent chap ». There is no idea of depreciation. It merely happens that « decent >>> is the word of the hour for expressing all good things. Asked what he would like his friends to think of him, Jack will reply, « A decent chap, of course, father ». In the same way Jack brings you his favourite book and asks « don't you think, father, that this is an awfully decent story? all about fighting sharks under water with those rotten rays or whatever they are, and a boy-pirate who ran off with a torpedo-boat and caught two Archbishops; only its sickening rot at the end, all about his being in love with a little fool of a Greek girl, called Hydrant, or Haidee, or something ». A new