ment of objurgations which, to do him justice, he has not been slow to turn to account. "Soor," or pig, is one of the commonest expressions of abuse, and it is one that is most offensive to Mussulmans. Sometimes it is forcibly expanded into "Bengala soor ka butcha," or whelp of a Bengal pig. "Nimak-haram," or faithless to the salt, has special reference to ingratitude. "Haramzada," or base-born, is the exact equivalent of a strong, if not elegant, phrase chiefly used in the present day by members of the maritime community. "Badmash" or blackguard, "dullal" or broker, "badzat" or low-bred, "kutta" or dog, "pagul" or fool, are some of the flowers of Anglo-Indian speech; but there is a mine of Billingsgate in the language as yet happily untouched by Anglo-Saxon lips. No people will permit themselves to use fouler language when they wish to be abusive than the Bengalees, especially the women of the lower orders, upon whose tongues delicacy never seems to place the slightest restraint. Curiously enough, two languages so remote as the Hindustani and the Lowland Scotch, contain the same term of abuse, used in an exactly identical sense. In India, as well as in Scotland, "randi" is applied to an ill-behaved, loud-tongued virago—a wanton; but the similarity cannot have occurred but by the merest accident. Not only do these Anglo-Indianisms entwine themselves into men's habits and modes of thinking, but they take a hold upon the sentimental feelings, and draw people together as if by a sort of freemasonry. A word casually dropped is quite sufficient to introduce two Anglo-Indians to each other, and to establish an intimacy between them. Lunching once in the "Keller" restaurant, beneath the new Exchange, at Berlin, the writer had for his vis-à-vis a bronzed Indian officer, whose nationality was more than half-suspected before his "khidmat"—corrected into "kellner"—put the matter beyond dispute. He was ill at ease; there was evidently something wanting to complete his comfort; but he would have expressed himself with more facility in Urdu than in German. He pettishly turned over his "Kapp's Berlin," as if he expected to find the missing word suggested there; but in vain. He then taxed his memory; but nothing came of it beyond "alu do," which any Indian domestic would have answered by helping him to potatoes. Strange to say, the active German waiter instantly produced the desired Kartoffeln; and the Indian went on with his meal as if there were nothing surprising in a German waiter's understanding Hindustani, until we fell into conversation, and his attention was called to the fact. The mystery was cleared up at the cost of a few silber goschen; and it turned out that the waiter had made several voyages to Calcutta, as the steward of a Hamburg trader, and had picked up a few native phrases. It is almost touching to see how two old Anglo-Indians are drawn together by the familiar talk, and to hear what wonderful stories, couched in how unintelligible language, they have got to tell. It is getting the fashion nowadays for purists to sneer at Anglo-Indianisms; but no one who is really acquainted with Anglo-Indian society will have any fault to find with a dialect that so admirably serves to express its wants and ideas.
From The Whitehall Review.
SOCIAL POSITION.
When George the Third was king, and when English gentlemen wore full-bottomed wigs, colored velvet coats, shorts, silk stockings, and swords, a man's position in society was easily determined. But times and manners have both changed, until now, thanks to the sartorial ingenuity of Smalpage and Kerslake, et hoc genus omne, he would be a clever man who, by outward appearance, could discriminate between the Duke of Bareacres and Mr. Moneybags of Mincing Lane.
There is nothing which an average Englishman strives so much to attain unto as a higher social position than that in which he was born. It is only in the very highest ranks of society that this ambition does not exist. When a man is a peer, or even a commoner of good family, it is impossible for him to rise socially higher, and he is therefore obliged to be content with what he has, without running after what he has not. But in every class below the peerage there betrays itself a more or less, feverish anxiety to rise a step higher than that to which one has a just claim. Among women this craving for social advancement is even more general than among men. Nor was the desire for "position" ever more general than it is at the present day. The reason is obvious. Money is made much more quickly than it used to be. For one nouveau riche that could be pointed out forty years ago, there are now at least two score. And when a man has "made his pile" how can he
