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-