used by the people has its proper name; it is harmonious and pleasing, abounding in vowels and liquids, destitute of gutturals, and sparing in aspirates and other harsh consonants.  At the same time, like the rest of the family, it is clumsy and unwieldy, whilst immense prolixity and frequent repetition must develope the finer shades of meaning.  Its peculiarity is a greater resemblance to the Zanzibarian Kisawahili than any tongue known to me on the Western Coast:  often a question asked by the guide, as “Njia hapa?” (Is this the road?) and “Jina lako nani?” (What’s your name?) was perfectly intelligible to me.The latter is a fair specimen of the peculiar euphony which I have noticed in “Zanzibar” (vol. i. chap. x.).  We should expect “Jina jako,” whereas this would offend the native ear.  It requires a scholar-like knowledge of the tongue to apply the curious process correctly, and the self-sufficient critic should beware how he attempts to correct quotations from the native languages.

I need hardly say that the speakers are foul-mouthed as the Anglo-African of S’a Leone and the “English” Coast; they borrow the vilest words from foreign tongues; a spade is called a spade with a witness, and feminine relatives are ever the subject of abuse; a practice which, beginning in Europe with the Slav race, extends more or less throughout the Old World.  I specify the Old World, because the so-called “Indians” of North and South America apparently ignore the habit except where they have learned it from Southern Europe.  Finally, cursing takes the place of swearing, the latter being confined, I believe, to the Scandinavians, the Teutons, and their allied races.

Nothing can be more unpleasant than the Portuguese spoken by the Congoman.  He transposes the letters lacking the proper sounds in his own tongue; for instance, “sinholo” (sinyolo) is “senhor;” “munyele” or “minyele” is “mulher;” “O luo” stands in lieu of “O rio,” (the river); “rua” of “lua” (luna), and so forth.  For to-morrow you must use “cedo” as “manhaa” would not be understood, and the prolixity of the native language is transferred to the foreign idiom.  For instance, if you ask, “What do you call this thing?” the paraphrase to be intelligible would be, “The white man calls this thing so-and-so; what does the Fiote call this thing?” sixteen words for six.  I have elsewhere remarked how Englishmen make themselves unintelligible by transferring to Hindostani and other Asiatic tongues the conciseness of their own idiom, in which as much is understood as is expressed.  We can well understand the outraged feelings with which poor Father Cannecattim heard his sermons travestied by the Abundo negroes do Paiz or linguists, the effect of which was to make him compose his laborious dictionary in Angolan, Latin, and Portuguese.  His wrath in reflecting upon “estos homems ou estos brutos” drives the ecclesiastic to imitate the ill-conditioned layman who habitually addresses his slave as “O bruto!  O burro!  O bicho!  O diabo!” when he does not apply the more injurious native terms as “Konongwako” and “Vendengwandi.”  It is only fair to confess that no race is harsher in its language and manners to its “black brethren,” than the liberated Africans of the English settlements.