Eliot uses representations of Northern English speech to give her rural characters life on the page and to distinguish the dialogue of wealthy citizens from that of their less affluent neighbors. In Chapter 6, when Mr Macey is speaking to his counterparts about the Lammeters, Eliot actually presents the word "pronounced" in a nonstandard English, Northern way. Macey says:
Ay, ay; I know, I know; but I let other folks talk. I’ve laid by now, and gev up to the young uns. Ask them as have been to school at Tarley: they’ve learnt pernouncing; that’s come up since my day.
This use of dialect—"gev" for "gave," "pernouncing" for "pronouncing"— provides local color and context, embedding the reader in the soundscapes of Lantern Yard and Raveloe. Multiple moments of wordplay and humor with Northern English appear like this in the novel. Eliot's narrator's self-awareness and its tendency to expand on what characters have said after "reporting" it usually places Northern English speech in very close proximity to Eliot's highly academic standard English.
Several idioms are also used and reused as Eliot represents Northern speech. For example, Marner himself is called "mushed" twice in the book, a word meaning "tired" or "worn out." As with many things in Silas Marner, it has another double meaning. This word is used in situations where someone is being kind and friendly toward the still-stiff Marner. A "mush" in several regions of Northern England, particularly Yorkshire, is a colloquialism that means "a friend." In noting his physical state, Silas's companions are also implicitly offering friendship.
In Chapter 10 of Silas Marner Dolly alludes to the British Christian tradition of carol-singing, remarking to Silas that nothing stirs her blood like Christmas music:
There’s no other music equil to the Christmas music—“Hark the erol angils sing.” And you may judge what it is at church, Master Marner, with the bassoon and the voices, as you can’t help thinking you’ve got to a better place a’ready—for I wouldn’t speak ill o’ this world, seeing as Them put us in it as knows best—but what wi’ the drink, and the quarrelling, and the bad illnesses, and the hard dying, as I’ve seen times and times, one’s thankful to hear of a better. [...]
The carol that Dolly mentions is "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing," a classic Christian hymn that celebrates the birth of Christ. Like the baby Jesus in the Christmas story, the baby Eppie has just appeared in Silas's home, bringing change and revitalizing his world. The "better" world that Dolly speaks of is just around the corner for Silas, just as Christians sing about when they celebrate the coming of Christ in this song. However, the "hammer-like rhythm"of the carols—as Eliot describes it when the narrative switches back to focusing on Silas—has a very different effect on the weaver than it does Dolly. The sound interferes with the rhythm of his weaving, and he doesn't get any encouragement from the music. It's not until Eppie opens his heart and he re-engages with a gentler version of Christianity that he's able to feel affected by it.
Eliot makes a humorous use of Northern Dialect here. "Erol angils" instead of "herald angels" implies that Dolly gets a sense of what the music is about without actually understanding what it's invoking. Carols transport Dolly to heaven in this segment, as she "can't help thinking" she is in a "better place," away from the "illnesses, and the hard dying." The Christmas music apparently offers an escape from the grindingly repetitive and hard "times and times" for England's rural poor. Dolly doesn't have to understand what the words mean to be moved by the carol. The intense sensory language of the swell and murmur of this affecting music, from the low notes of the "bassoon" to the "voices," carries Dolly's bliss and transportation through to the reader.
