To describe in writing all the minute differ Lancashire pronunciation would be impossible. speaking it may be described as broader, rough open than that of the south, and at the same ti slovenly, falling, as we have seen, into contracti utterances. Provincial dialects are not perhaps in themselv but they are inevitable, and will always more o I have already shown that within the last ( Lancashire dialect has greatly changed, and, in doubt, it will change still more. This, howe character of all language, whether literary or Whilst it has a living practical existence it must be undergoing elimination and change in one dire regeneration and reproduction in another. It is dead that it can be compressed within that nicety o system, and become the subject of that exhaustiv and criticism which has been applied to the Gre and Sanskrit. We know what our language is what it will be a few centuries hence he would sumptuous man who would venture to prophesy. might become, under certain circumstances, we h indication, in the dialectic jargon which has grown u other side of the Atlantic within about two centu which is so amusingly developed in the pages of Sa The following specimen may suffice: J. R. Lowell, Biglow Pape ferences of the le. Generall her, and more time rapid and tions, and half ves desirable or less exist. century the In future, no ever, is the r dialectic. continually ection, and only when of rule and e analysis De a pre- ve some p on the ies, and n Slick. Language, as the exponent of human thought, is created, moulded, modified, and expanded, according to the constantly varying demands for its expression. In studying the history of our language, dialectic variations are material aids to philological inquiry, and throw great light on our early literature; and in this view few of the dialects of Great Britain have greater claims upon our attention than that of South Lancashire. I will conclude this paper by an extract or two in the Lancashire dialect from the pen of Mr. Edwin Waugh, of Manchester,* a gentleman whose thorough knowledge of the dialect, and the use he has made of it in his Sketches and Poems, are deserving of very warm commendation. JAMIE'S FROLIC. I. One neet aw crope whoam, when my weighvin' were o'er, As Mally sit rockin', An' darnin' a stockin', An' tentin' her bakin' i' th o'on. II. Th' chylt were asleep, an' my clooas were reet; That, o' someheaw, aw thought “Aw could just like a snap at eawr Mall.” * Sketches of Lancashire Life, 1855. Poems and Lancashire Songs, 1859. Poor lass! hoo were kinder becose aw were quare "Jamie, come sattle thisel' in a cheer; Thae 's looked very yonderly mony a day; It's grievin' to see heaw thae 'rt wearin' away,An' trailin' abeawt, Like a hen at 's i' th meawt ; Do, pritho, poo up to thi tay! "Thae wants some new flannels,-thae 's getten a co Or thae 'll go eawt o' seet, For thae 'rt wortchin' thisel' into th' grave." Thinks I, "Th' lass 's reet, an' aw houd with her wi So, aw said, for aw wanted to cheer her a bit,"Owd crayter, aw 've noan made my mind up to dee,A frolick 'll just be the physic for me! Aw 'll se some fresh places, An' look at fresh faces, An' go have a bit ov a spree!" HEAW OWD NEDDY GEET HIS CHIM One mornin', after Owd Neddy an' Bodle had be th' o'erneet, thi'dd'n just getten a yure o' th' owd dog they sit afore th' fire i' Owd Neddy kitchen, as quiet, t two pot dolls; bnt they didn't feel so, nother; for thi' a yed-waach apiece, i' th' treawth wur known. W turn't things o'er a bit, Bodle began o' lookin' very ye th' fire-hole o' at once't, and he said, "By th' mass aw 've a good mind to go reet up th' chimbley." Well Neddy likes a spree as well as ony man livin', an' he so mich what mak' o' one it is, nothur; so as soon as he jumped up an' said, "Damn it, Bodle, go up-up Bodle stood still a minute, lookin' at th' chimbley, double't his laps up, he said, "Well, neaw; should aw up, thinks ta, owd crayter ?" "Go ?-ah, what elze?' Ned-Up wi' tho; soot 's good for th' bally-waach, aw 'll gi' tho a quart ov ale when tho comes deaw "Will ta, for sure?" said Bodle, prickin' his ears. lyin' thinks ta?" onswer't Owd Neddy. "Whau, the off, by Gos, iv it 're as long as a steeple;" an' he made bawks at th' job, but set th' tone foot onto th' top-bar, went into th' smudge hole. Just as he wur crommin' his th' bothom o' th' chimbley, th' owd woman coom in to they hadd'n agate; an' as soon as Bodle yerd her, he co "Houd hur back a bit, whol aw get oawt o' th seet, or elz poo me deawn again." Hoo stare't a bit afore hoo could eawt what it wur a're creepin' up th' chimbley-hole, an' h "What mak o' lumber han yo afoot neaw? for yo 're a roo big'st nowmuns at ever trode ov a floor. Yo 'n some divulment agate i' the chimbley, aw declare." As soon fund what it wur, hoo sheawted, "Eh, thea ghreyt gawmle |