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.