WHEN the dinner was over, and the first draughts from the great
cask of birthday ale were brought up, room was made for the broad Mr. Poyser at
the side of the table, and two chairs were placed at the head. It had been
settled very definitely what Mr. Poyser was to do when the young squire should
appear, and for the last five minutes he had been in a state of abstraction,
with his eyes fixed on the dark picture opposite, and his hands busy with the
loose cash and other articles in his breeches pockets.
When the young squire entered, with Mr. Irwine by his side, every one stood
up, and this moment of homage was very agreeable to Arthur. He liked to feel his
own importance, and besides that, he cared a great deal for the good-will of
these people: he was fond of thinking that they had a hearty, special regard for
him. The pleasure he felt was in his face as he said, "My grandfather and I hope
all our friends here have enjoyed their dinner, and find my birthday ale good.
Mr. Irwine and I are come to taste it with you, and I am sure we shall all like
anything the better that the rector shares with us."
All eyes were now turned on Mr. Poyser, who, with his hands still busy in his
pockets, began with the deliberateness of a slow- striking clock. "Captain, my
neighbours have put it upo' me to speak for 'em to-day, for where folks think
pretty much alike, one spokesman's as good as a score. And though we've
mayhappen got contrairy ways o' thinking about a many things--one man lays down
his land one way an' another another--an' I'll not take it upon me to speak to
no man's farming, but my own--this I'll say, as we're all o' one mind about our
young squire. We've pretty nigh all on us known you when you war a little un,
an' we've niver known anything on you but what was good an' honorable. You speak
fair an' y' act fair, an' we're joyful when we look forrard to your being our
landlord, for we b'lieve you mean to do right by everybody, an' 'ull make no
man's bread bitter to him if you can help it. That's what I mean, an' that's
what we all mean; and when a man's said what he means, he'd better stop, for th'
ale 'ull be none the better for stannin'. An' I'll not say how we like th' ale
yet, for we couldna well taste it till we'd drunk your health in it; but the
dinner was good, an' if there's anybody hasna enjoyed it, it must be the fault
of his own inside. An' as for the rector's company, it's well known as that's
welcome t' all the parish wherever he may be; an' I hope, an' we all hope, as
he'll live to see us old folks, an' our children grown to men an' women an' Your
Honour a family man. I've no more to say as concerns the present time, an' so
we'll drink our young squire's health--three times three."
Hereupon a glorious shouting, a rapping, a jingling, a clattering, and a
shouting, with plentiful da capo, pleasanter than a strain of sublimest music in
the ears that receive such a tribute for the first time. Arthur had felt a
twinge of conscience during Mr. Poyser's speech, but it was too feeble to
nullify the pleasure he felt in being praised. Did he not deserve what was said
of him on the whole? If there was something in his conduct that Poyser wouldn't
have liked if he had known it, why, no man's conduct will bear too close an
inspection; and Poyser was not likely to know it; and, after all, what had he
done? Gone a little too far, perhaps, in flirtation, but another man in his
place would have acted much worse; and no harm would come--no harm should come,
for the next time he was alone with Hetty, he would explain to her that she must
not think seriously of him or of what had passed. It was necessary to Arthur,
you perceive, to be satisfied with himself. Uncomfortable thoughts must be got
rid of by good intentions for the future, which can be formed so rapidly that he
had time to be uncomfortable and to become easy again before Mr. Poyser's slow
speech was finished, and when it was time for him to speak he was quite
light-hearted.
"I thank you all, my good friends and neighbours," Arthur said, "for the good
opinion of me, and the kind feelings towards me which Mr. Poyser has been
expressing on your behalf and on his own, and it will always be my heartiest
wish to deserve them. In the course of things we may expect that, if I live, I
shall one day or other be your landlord; indeed, it is on the ground of that
expectation that my grandfather has wished me to celebrate this day and to come
among you now; and I look forward to this position, not merely as one of power
and pleasure for myself, but as a means of benefiting my neighbours. It hardly
becomes so young a man as I am to talk much about farming to you, who are most
of you so much older, and are men of experience; still, I have interested myself
a good deal in such matters, and learned as much about them as my opportunities
have allowed; and when the course of events shall place the estate in my hands,
it will be my first desire to afford my tenants all the encouragement a landlord
can give them, in improving their land and trying to bring about a better
practice of husbandry. It will be my wish to be looked on by all my deserving
tenants as their best friend, and nothing would make me so happy as to be able
to respect every man on the estate, and to be respected by him in return. It is
not my place at present to enter into particulars; I only meet your good hopes
concerning me by telling you that my own hopes correspond to them-- that what
you expect from me I desire to fulfil; and I am quite of Mr. Poyser's opinion,
that when a man has said what he means, he had better stop. But the pleasure I
feel in having my own health drunk by you would not be perfect if we did not
drink the health of my grandfather, who has filled the place of both parents to
me. I will say no more, until you have joined me in drinking his health on a day
when he has wished me to appear among you as the future representative of his
name and family."
Perhaps there was no one present except Mr. Irwine who thoroughly understood
and approved Arthur's graceful mode of proposing his grandfather's health. The
farmers thought the young squire knew well enough that they hated the old
squire, and Mrs. Poyser said, "he'd better not ha' stirred a kettle o' sour
broth." The bucolic mind does not readily apprehend the refinements of good
taste. But the toast could not be rejected and when it had been drunk, Arthur
said, "I thank you, both for my grandfather and myself; and now there is one
more thing I wish to tell you, that you may share my pleasure about it, as I
hope and believe you will. I think there can be no man here who has not a
respect, and some of you, I am sure, have a very high regard, for my friend Adam
Bede. It is well known to every one in this neighbourhood that there is no man
whose word can be more depended on than his; that whatever he undertakes to do,
he does well, and is as careful for the interests of those who employ him as for
his own. I'm proud to say that I was very fond of Adam when I was a little boy,
and I have never lost my old feeling for him--I think that shows that I know a
good fellow when I find him. It has long been my wish that he should have the
management of the woods on the estate, which happen to be very valuable, not
only because I think so highly of his character, but because he has the
knowledge and the skill which fit him for the place. And I am happy to tell you
that it is my grandfather's wish too, and it is now settled that Adam shall
manage the woods--a change which I am sure will be very much for the advantage
of the estate; and I hope you will by and by join me in drinking his health, and
in wishing him all the prosperity in life that he deserves. But there is a still
older friend of mine than Adam Bede present, and I need not tell you that it is
Mr. Irwine. I'm sure you will agree with me that we must drink no other person's
health until we have drunk his. I know you have all reason to love him, but no
one of his parishioners has so much reason as I. Come, charge your glasses, and
let us drink to our excellent rector--three times three!"
This toast was drunk with all the enthusiasm that was wanting to the last,
and it certainly was the most picturesque moment in the scene when Mr. Irwine
got up to speak, and all the faces in the room were turned towards him. The
superior refinement of his face was much more striking than that of Arthur's
when seen in comparison with the people round them. Arthur's was a much commoner
British face, and the splendour of his new-fashioned clothes was more akin to
the young farmer's taste in costume than Mr. Irwine's powder and the
well-brushed but well-worn black, which seemed to be his chosen suit for great
occasions; for he had the mysterious secret of never wearing a new-looking coat.
"This is not the first time, by a great many," he said, "that I have had to
thank my parishioners for giving me tokens of their goodwill, but neighbourly
kindness is among those things that are the more precious the older they get.
Indeed, our pleasant meeting to-day is a proof that when what is good comes of
age and is likely to live, there is reason for rejoicing, and the relation
between us as clergyman and parishioners came of age two years ago, for it is
three-and-twenty years since I first came among you, and I see some tall
fine-looking young men here, as well as some blooming young women, that were far
from looking as pleasantly at me when I christened them as I am happy to see
them looking now. But I'm sure you will not wonder when I say that among all
those young men, the one in whom I have the strongest interest is my friend Mr.
Arthur Donnithorne, for whom you have just expressed your regard. I had the
pleasure of being his tutor for several years, and have naturally had
opportunities of knowing him intimately which cannot have occurred to any one
else who is present; and I have some pride as well as pleasure in assuring you
that I share your high hopes concerning him, and your confidence in his
possession of those qualities which will make him an excellent landlord when the
time shall come for him to take that important position among you. We feel alike
on most matters on which a man who is getting towards fifty can feel in common
with a young man of one-and-twenty, and he has just been expressing a feeling
which I share very heartily, and I would not willingly omit the opportunity of
saying so. That feeling is his value and respect for Adam Bede. People in a high
station are of course more thought of and talked about and have their virtues
more praised, than those whose lives are passed in humble everyday work; but
every sensible man knows how necessary that humble everyday work is, and how
important it is to us that it should be done well. And I agree with my friend
Mr. Arthur Donnithorne in feeling that when a man whose duty lies in that sort
of work shows a character which would make him an example in any station, his
merit should be acknowledged. He is one of those to whom honour is due, and his
friends should delight to honour him. I know Adam Bede well--I know what he is
as a workman, and what he has been as a son and brother--and I am saying the
simplest truth when I say that I respect him as much as I respect any man
living. But I am not speaking to you about a stranger; some of you are his
intimate friends, and I believe there is not one here who does not know enough
of him to join heartily in drinking his health."
As Mr. Irwine paused, Arthur jumped up and, filling his glass, said, "A
bumper to Adam Bede, and may he live to have sons as faithful and clever as
himself!"
No hearer, not even Bartle Massey, was so delighted with this toast as Mr.
Poyser. "Tough work" as his first speech had been, he would have started up to
make another if he had not known the extreme irregularity of such a course. As
it was, he found an outlet for his feeling in drinking his ale unusually fast,
and setting down his glass with a swing of his arm and a determined rap. If
Jonathan Burge and a few others felt less comfortable on the occasion, they
tried their best to look contented, and so the toast was drunk with a goodwill
apparently unanimous.
Adam was rather paler than usual when he got up to thank his friends. He was
a good deal moved by this public tribute--very naturally, for he was in the
presence of all his little world, and it was uniting to do him honour. But he
felt no shyness about speaking, not being troubled with small vanity or lack of
words; he looked neither awkward nor embarrassed, but stood in his usual firm
upright attitude, with his head thrown a little backward and his hands perfectly
still, in that rough dignity which is peculiar to intelligent, honest,
well-built workmen, who are never wondering what is their business in the world.
"I'm quite taken by surprise," he said. "I didn't expect anything o' this
sort, for it's a good deal more than my wages. But I've the more reason to be
grateful to you, Captain, and to you, Mr. Irwine, and to all my friends here,
who've drunk my health and wished me well. It 'ud be nonsense for me to be
saying, I don't at all deserve th' opinion you have of me; that 'ud be poor
thanks to you, to say that you've known me all these years and yet haven't sense
enough to find out a great deal o' the truth about me. You think, if I undertake
to do a bit o' work, I'll do it well, be my pay big or little--and that's true.
I'd be ashamed to stand before you here if it wasna true. But it seems to me
that's a man's plain duty, and nothing to be conceited about, and it's pretty
clear to me as I've never done more than my duty; for let us do what we will,
it's only making use o' the sperrit and the powers that ha' been given to us.
And so this kindness o' yours, I'm sure, is no debt you owe me, but a free gift,
and as such I accept it and am thankful. And as to this new employment I've
taken in hand, I'll only say that I took it at Captain Donnithorne's desire, and
that I'll try to fulfil his expectations. I'd wish for no better lot than to
work under him, and to know that while I was getting my own bread I was taking
care of his int'rests. For I believe he's one o those gentlemen as wishes to do
the right thing, and to leave the world a bit better than he found it, which
it's my belief every man may do, whether he's gentle or simple, whether he sets
a good bit o' work going and finds the money, or whether he does the work with
his own hands. There's no occasion for me to say any more about what I feel
towards him: I hope to show it through the rest o' my life in my actions."
There were various opinions about Adam's speech: some of the women whispered
that he didn't show himself thankful enough, and seemed to speak as proud as
could be; but most of the men were of opinion that nobody could speak more
straightfor'ard, and that Adam was as fine a chap as need to be. While such
observations were being buzzed about, mingled with wonderings as to what the old
squire meant to do for a bailiff, and whether he was going to have a steward,
the two gentlemen had risen, and were walking round to the table where the wives
and children sat. There was none of the strong ale here, of course, but wine and
dessert-- sparkling gooseberry for the young ones, and some good sherry for the
mothers. Mrs. Poyser was at the head of this table, and Totty was now seated in
her lap, bending her small nose deep down into a wine-glass in search of the
nuts floating there.
"How do you do, Mrs. Poyser?" said Arthur. "Weren't you pleased to hear your
husband make such a good speech to-day?"
"Oh, sir, the men are mostly so tongue-tied--you're forced partly to guess
what they mean, as you do wi' the dumb creaturs."
"What! you think you could have made it better for him?" said Mr. Irwine,
laughing.
"Well, sir, when I want to say anything, I can mostly find words to say it
in, thank God. Not as I'm a-finding faut wi' my husband, for if he's a man o'
few words, what he says he'll stand to."
"I'm sure I never saw a prettier party than this," Arthur said, looking round
at the apple-cheeked children. "My aunt and the Miss Irwines will come up and
see you presently. They were afraid of the noise of the toasts, but it would be
a shame for them not to see you at table."
He walked on, speaking to the mothers and patting the children, while Mr.
Irwine satisfied himself with standing still and nodding at a distance, that no
one's attention might be disturbed from the young squire, the hero of the day.
Arthur did not venture to stop near Hetty, but merely bowed to her as he passed
along the opposite side. The foolish child felt her heart swelling with
discontent; for what woman was ever satisfied with apparent neglect, even when
she knows it to be the mask of love? Hetty thought this was going to be the most
miserable day she had had for a long while, a moment of chill daylight and
reality came across her dream: Arthur, who had seemed so near to her only a few
hours before, was separated from her, as the hero of a great procession is
separated from a small outsider in the crowd.
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