bability, it differed from them a little. Little or much, however, the language of Wace is the language of Normandy in general.

Nor does the national character of his work mean that it was founded on the legends or traditions which had either grown up spontaneously among the Normans or been handed down as narratives. He took the accounts as he found them; and these were the accounts of bookmen who wrote in Latin; followers, in most cases, of the one primary authority, Dudo de St. Quentin. Being this, it recognises nothing but Danes, and is very far from the hypothesis suggested in a previous chapter of a mixture of Danes, Saxons, and Goths. Still, the basis is the common belief of the Normans themselves. It was not one which will bear minute and analytic criticism. was sufficiently general, and sufficiently strong to form the basis of a poem which came much closer to the feelings of its reader than anything which had preceded it: this feeling being intensely Norman and national.

Still, it

Such is the notice of that portion of the old Anglo-Norman literature which was most closely connected with the Channel Islands, and which most nearly approaches the character of a true insular composition. The proper complement to this is a sketch of the language in its present form. Of this, Guernsey gives us the best representative: being less affected by the French than Jersey, and less by the English than Alderney. The extent to which they differ from the ordinary French may be seen in the translations.

That even within each island, taken singly, there are minute differences of dialect is a fact; nor is it one which should surprise us. It has, however, been exaggerated. Some years back, it was stated in a popular work that every parish had its own form of speech. This statement seems to rest on some comparisons made between the islands as they were in the youth and as they were in the old age of the observer. The original notice, however, was merely that, in a mixed party, it was not difficult

to guess by his speech from what parish each member of the company came. Likely enough. In Italy, the land of dialects, the difference between the language of the town and that of the nearest village is sufficiently broad to have established the terms urbana and rustica to denote it. More than this, nearly two centuries ago, one of the earliest writers in the proper Bolognese, Lotto Lotti, states that, even in the town of Bologna itself, there were differences; that in the Strada Maggiore, on the Via Romana, there was an approach to the Romagnole; that between the Strada di San Stefano and the Strada di Saragozza, there was an approach to the Florentine; that about Porta di San Felice, Lombard elements showed themselves; and that at Porta di Sanvitale there was a dash of the Ferrarese; finally, that there were differences in the forms of speech belonging to the different trades. Upon this, Biondelli remarks that the same is the case Neither in Bologna, however, nor in the Channel Islands, does all this make a difference of dialect Yet in Guernsey, at the present time, there is good authority for the statement that, between a townsman and a native of the Forest, there is still a perceptible difference.

now.

For the dialect of Sark, we want specimens. Theoretically, it should be simply a sub-dialect of the Jersey: inasmuch as the settlement from Jersey, in Queen Elizabeth's time, of forty families, must, at least, have doubled the population. Yet the little known about it hardly justifies this view. One of the Sark peculiarities is to sound v as b, and say beux for veux. This, common enough in the south-western parts of France, i.e., Bearn and Gascony, has yet to be noted as a prominent character in Jersey.

For the Alderney dialect, also, we want specimens; Alderney being the island wherein the influence of the English is at its maximum.

Neither have we much from Jersey, the following being a fair specimen of the little we have.

Au pi des murailles d'chu noble et vier châté,
Que d'pis tant d'années la mé vint bagné,

Et d'ioù qu' nou peut vaie, sus les côtes de France,
Des maisons, des moulins, et l'eliochi de Coutance;
Des sablions, des roquiers, de p'tits et d'grands batiaux,
Qui vont et qui vennent, qui remuent chu ches iaux;
Est un hâvre qui naguères, pouore, calme et tranquille,
Contenait trais batiaux touonés sus lus quilles,
Des mouonchiaux d'gallots et d'écalles de baînin,
Pus d'unne sale mare oué nageait du fretin,

Du vraic, unne vieille ancre, deux dranets et une sène,
Unne corde à siqui, des c'minsoles sans guènnes,
Siex cliavets à houmards, et quiques avirons,
Deux s'trais bijueuques qu' nou zappelait maisons,
Et d'zéfans cracheurs qui, manque de braies,

Se vautraient dans la vase, comme des bêtes à saie.
Mais d'pis qu' acheteurre nos Messieurs d'Zétats,
Baillent tant de leur goule, et font tant d'embarras,
E qu' nos savans Ministres, ov tout lus zesprit,
Ne disent quasi ren sur les lois de Gêri,

Et qui laissent tout couore, comme ava le russé,
Comme si zavaient peue seulement d'ouvri le bé,
Faut Ꭹ s'etonner qu' les affaires vont de travers,
Et qu' nou s'en sé print ès pouores hîtriers,
Que ne pensaient guères au mitan d'lus travas,
D'avé ren à démêler ov Messieurs des Etats.
Autefais du mains, sus les vieilles hîtrières,

J' péquions tranquillement, comme faisaient nos grand'-pères, &c.

Almanach du Constitutionelle, 1840, Grouvilliers, 1837.

The following is a translation into modern French. Like those that follow, it has been made literal rather than idiomatic. In some cases, however, even this is impracticable; inasmuch as many of the insular glosses are wholly foreign to the cultivated language.

It may be added, that the orthography is not only (as we expect it to be), unfixed, but that it is varied. The present specimens, indeed, give three varieties of it.

JERSEY POEM.

In French.

Au pied des murailles de ce noble et vieux château,
Que depuis tant d'années la mer vient baigner,

Et d'où on peut voir sur les côtes de France,

Des maisons, des moulins, et le clocher de Coutances;
Des sables, des rochers, de petits et de grands bateaux,
Qui vont et qui viennent, qui remuent sur ces eaux ;
Est un hâvre qui naguèrs pur, calme et tranquille
Contenait trois bateaux
sus leurs quilles,
Des monceaux de caillous et d' écailles de (? baleine)
Plus d'une sale mare où nageait du fretin,

Du varech, une vieille ancre, deux filets et une seine,
Une corde à sécher, des camisoles sans gaînes,

Six (harpons?) a homards, et quelques rames,
Deux ou trois bicoques qu' on appellait maisons,

Et des enfans crasseux qui, faute de culottes,

Se vautraient dans la vase, comme des bêtes à soie. (cochons)
Mais depuis qu'à cette heure nos Messieurs des Etats,
Donnent tant de leur gueule, et font tant d'embarras,
Et que nos savans Ministres, avec tout leur esprit,

Ne disent quasi rien sur les lois de Jersey,

Et qui laissent tout croire comme

Comme s'ils avaient peu seulement d'ouvrir le bec
Faut y s'etonner que les affaires vont a travers
Et que nous nous en prenons aux pauvres huitriers
Qui ne pensaient guéres au milieu de leur travaux
D'avoir rien a démeler avec Messieurs des Etats
Autrefois du moins sus les vielles huitrieres

Je pechais tranquillement comme faisaient nos grandpères, &c.

441

In contrast to these short and fugitive pieces, Guernsey boasts a classical work-the Rimes Guernésiases-which common fame attributes, we believe justly, to Mr. George Metivier,—pre-eminently learned in the language of his native island as well as in that of other countries. His poems illustrate not only the language, but the habits and society of the true Norman portion of the island; and as they are accompanied by a glossary, which we hope may expand itself into a full and complete dictionary, they form the basis of all philological inquiry. As the following are free translations of well-known poems they are selected as specimens:

Jean Grain d'orge.-John Barleycorn.

J'ai ouï qu'il y'avait dans l'orient
Treis rouais, du temps d' St. George,
Et q' chacun d'aeux fit un serment
D' mettre à mort Jean Graïn-d'orge.

D' leux grand' quérue i' font un rion
Pour l'enterraïr sons l' frie,-
Jean Graïn-d'orge, men vier garçon,
V' là ta course finie!

Pour tout chun'na l'printemps ramʼnit,
La pllie et la rousâïe,—
Jean Graïn-d'orge ressuscitit,
L'etoun'ment d' la contrâïe.

Jour après jour, i' pousse, i' creît,
S'enfle, et n'est pus si tendre ;
Sa tête s'couvre d'longs piquets,
Rangis pour le défendre.

L' soleil brûlant, qu'emplle nos sacs,
Fait jaûnir sen visage.

Les genouâïx gourds, la tête en bas,
Tout dit q' Jean est sus l'âge.

I' pallit, tremblle, et nou l'vét bien,

Sa forche se consume;

Mais des enn'mis du cher chrêquien,
L'iniquitaï s'allume.

Auve un grand faux,-j'terfis d'effré !--
Sa tchiesse i' l'ont copâïe;

I' l'ont houlaï dans leux tumbré,

Coum si ch' n'était qu'un plâïe !

Gav'laï dans l'aire insolemment,
Nou l' capuche une achie,

Et pîs au caoup du vent nou l'pend,—
Ah! qu' est' done qui s'en s'cie ?