LANCASHIRE SKETCHES.* ONCE more hard times have come back to

Lancashire. In a literary article it is not the place to play the historian or the prophet, but the republication of Edwin Waugh's sketches opportunely enables us to recall the pathetic side of the industrial struggle, and to obtain glimpses of the persona whom it so deeply affects. Hard times have before now tested the pluck of Lancashire lads. They are " characters," and, at the worst of it, they will have a tolerant pity for those not of their blood, and a pride in themselves not to be matched elsewhere. In happier days, when politics are little more than sport,—sport to be betted upon, for odds are laid against all parliamentary candidates and on every possible occasion,—when the struggle for existence is not harder than usual and most are fairly happy, if a speaker really wants to be thrilled by his audience, a hard-headed, warm-hearted, clannish crowd, let him go to Lancashire as- a Lancashire man, and show himself worthy of what he and it will think the beat position on earth,—that of a

Lancashire "lad." (When men are grey-haired, they still are " lads " in Lancashire.) A second-best welcome will be given to a stranger properly introduced. The songs that he will hear as in no other part of England—Lancashire loves music—the keen faces, and the concentrated attention may

well inspire him. If a man fails in Lancashire, he hears the reason ; Lancashire gives its opinion freely, and, though in some parts its language still may be idiomatic, and its words

more expressive than those allowed in national literature,.

Lancashire never has any doubt of its meaning, nor allows. other people to doubt it either. Even now, when dialect dies out, and cross-currents of capital and labour draw men to and fro along the commercial and industrial lines of the whole of England, the ideal of life is a different thing in the North and South. Any one used to handling masses of men for the pur- poses of religion, philanthropy, or charity, will feel a most striking difference as he changes his country-side. The Soutbron will be shocked at the manners of the taciturn,.

humorous, outwardly independent Northerner; but, coming south, those of Lancashire blood miss the sturdy, practical, truthful characteristics of a people which gives its honour and its love very slowly, bat very firmly. To " know trouble " amongst them, is to know how tender and how heart-warming a roughly philosophical sympathy can be.

In proof of what we have known as facts, we should like to quote from these Lancashire sketches. Edwin Waugh, born 1817, died 1886, was a man of the land he portrayed in provincial papers and in local volumes. We agree with Mr. Milner, the editor, who contributes a useful and appre- ciative sketch of Waugh as preface to the series, that it is impossible to separate chaff from wheat in the republications. If Waugh could have unclassed and delocalised himself, he would have done better temporary work, but the local colour, and the personal character of his sketches, seem to give them now a chance of being passed on as county gleanings illus- trating the history of the century. As Mr. Milner justly observes , " Of his dialectal work, it is impossible to speak too highly. There he moves without restraint, and in an element that is entirely congenial to him." We fear to give excerpts for the mere sake of showing the vigour of the speech. To those who know it, they would be commonplace to those who do not, they would be unintelligible.

Though born during hard times, and knowing to the full. what respectable poverty means, Waugh early learnt to read, and picked up knowledge as beat he could. He went to work at twelve, was apprenticed to a bookseller, and gradually passed through various forms of occupation to his place amongst the provincial journalists of the day. In 1856 he wrote the popular poem. "Come Whoam to the Childer and Me." From 1860 to 1886, he filled his own place in his circle of friends and acquaintances, and won his way to satisfac- tory recognition of his powers of putting down what he saw and heard, and of flavouring his local ballads and sketches- Here is a bit put into the mouth of a starving youth whom an acquaintance has helped. But the youth had said

" 'An' Joe's worse off than me, for he's a wife and six childer, and I've naught but myself to look after. And now I come to think on't, Moister, I'll no eat it o' ; but I'll tak a bit on't away wi' me, if yo'n no objections."

• Lancashire Sketches. By Edwin Waugh. Edited by George Milner. Series I. and II. Manchester and London: J. Heywood. 1894

Then they smoke together :-

"' Ay,' said he, ' it's a hard time this; and I'm fleyed that we ha'. not sin th' worst av't yet. We've never had nought like this sin' th' time of th' cotter famine—that wur in 1861 and 1862. I wur nobbut a lad then, but I geet to know for th' fust time i

my life what starvation meant A deoth o' folk geet it into their yeds that th' day o' judgment wur comin' on,—and they might weel, for it wur a black look-out There weren't a cart nor a lorry to be seen on th' streets ; and mill after mill stopped, till, at last, there weren't a wheel runnin', nor a chimney smokin', and th' inside of th' factories that use't to be full o' buzz and bustle and lasses singin' at their wark, wur as still as tomb- stones. I use't to peep in at our factory window, now and then, durin' that time, and I could see every wheel and drum and strap, stounin' still ; and the bits o' cotton fleez lying about th' floor, where so many feet use't to be running to and fro ; and I've looked, an' looked, till I began o' bein' quite freeten't, an' I deerstn't look

any longer, forth' place seem full o' ghosts Ay, there weren't much smoke Amin' in Lancashire, just then. Th' air were clear enough, God knows—and a deal o' folk had very little else to live on as long as that famine lasted. Lancashire met to be famous for bell-ringin' too ; but there were no bells stirrin' then, but passin -bells ; and there wur a deal o' daicent folk died at that time that had to be buried bi th' parish—ay, folks that never dreamt o' comin' to want or scant as long as they live t. Ay, and the streets that use'( to be so throng that folks had to tak' care how they crossed fro' one side to t other, began to be still as a moortop." (Series I., pp. 271-72 ) But Lancashire troubles have a wonderful side to them. Savage discontent and burning memories of wrong there have been. In 1825, Government relief was given in the form of employing the recent invention of MacAdam for the roads, and old soldiers' uniforms were sent for the workers. Peterloo was not readily forgiven nor forgotten. In 1830, when the Duke of Wellington came to open " the railway," there was much anxiety even for his life. Lancashire can be both fierce and stern; but Lancashire is self-respecting too. The present writer has spoken with those who well remember the beginning of the century. (It is only one who never has cared for lessening the preventible sorrows of this world who will tell you that times and people are worse than they were then. The happiness of the greater number is increased.) But to whichever period of trouble we point, by tradition or by memory, the people have been the same,—reluctant to accept help, most indignant, even when starving, that any one should know of the loss of furniture or lack of food, and yet always trying to help one another. Such instances are frequently mentioned in these sketches, especially in the papers entitled " Amongst the Preston Operatives."

"Wherever I went," said Waugh, " I heard and saw things which touchingly testified what noble stuff the working popula- tion of Lancashire, as a whole, is made of."

" We had some talk,' he says again, " with that class of opera- tives who are clean, provident, and heawse-preawd,' as Lancashire folk call it. The Secretary told me that he was aware of such people living upon the sale of their furniture, and the Committee generally relieved the distress of such people, just as if they had no

furniture at all. Another member told, also, of a moulder's family who had been all out of work and starving so long that their poor neighbours came at last and recommended the Com- mittee to relieve them, as they would not apply for relief them- selves. They accepted relief just one week, and then the man came and said he had a prospect of work, and be shouldn't need relief-tickets any longer."—(Series II., pp. 218-19.) These passages will be read with interest at the present time, and may bring home to some what suffering is likely to follow the present condition of things, by whomsoever occasioned.

But Lancashire is by no means all melancholy. We have no space left for the amusing proverbs and anecdotes which we meant to give. It will do no one any harm to look through these papers for themselves. Though, as we have said, they are little more than newspaper sketches, they already are becoming semi-historical, for, though history sadly repeats its sorrows, yet "the old order changeth, yielding place to new." Long may it be before Lancashire loses the generic character peculiar to all the varied members of her family,—unlike, yet resembling each other. It is not prosperous at present, but it will do well to consider what it is doing, and, as it has done before, to " keep its heart out of its clogs."