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groans and hisses； but the general sense of honour was much too
strong for the condemnation of a man unheard。 “Be sure you’re
right； Slackbridge！” “Put him up！” “Let’s hear him！” Such things
were said on many sides。 Finally； one strong voice called out； “Is
the man heer？ If the man’s heer； Slackbridge； let’s hear the man
himseln； ’stead o’ yo。” Which was received with a round of
applause。
Slackbridge； the orator； looked about him with a withering
smile； and； holding out his right hand at arm’s length （as the
manner of all Slackbridges is）； to still the thundering sea； waited
until there was a profound silence。
“Oh my friends and fellow…men！” said Slackbridge then；
shaking his head with violent scorn； “I do not wonder that you； the
prostrate sons of labour； are incredulous of the existence of such a
man。 But he who sold his birthright for a mess of pottage existed；
and Judas Iscariot existed； and Castlereagh existed； and this man
exists！”
Here； a brief press and confusion near the stage； ended in the
man himself standing at the orator’s side before the concourse。 He
was pale and a little moved in the face—his lips especially showed
it； but he stood quiet； with his left hand at his chin； waiting to be
heard。 There was a chairman to regulate the proceedings； and this
functionary now took the case into his own hands。
“My friends；” said he； “by virtue o’ my office as your president；
I ashes o’ our friend Slackbridge； who may be a little over hetter in
this business； to take his seat； whiles this man Stephen Blackpool
is heern。 You all know this man Stephen Blackpool。 You know
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him awlung o’ his misfort’ns； and his good name。”
With that； the chairman shook him frankly by the hand； and sat
down again。 Slackbridge likewise sat down； wiping his hot
forehead—always from left to right； and never the reverse way。
“My friends；” Stephen began； in the midst of a dead calm； “I ha’
hed what’s been spok’n o’ me； and ’tis lickly that I shan’t mend it。
But I’d liefer you’d hearn the truth concernin myseln； fro my lips
than for onny other man’s； though I never cud’n speak afore so
monny； wi’out bein moydert and muddled。”
Slackbridge shook his head as if he would shake it off； in his
bitterness。
“I’m th’ one single Hand in Bounderby’s mill； o’ a’ the men
theer； as don’t coom in wi’ th’ proposed reg’lations。 I canna coom
in wi’ ’em。 My friends； I doubt their doin’ yo onny good。 Licker
they’ll do you hurt。”
Slackbridge laughed； folded his arms； and frowned
sarcastically。
“But ’t ant sommuch for that as I stands out。 If that were aw； I’d
coom in wi’ th’ rest。 But I ha’ my reasons—mine； yo see—for being
hindered； not on’y now； but awlus—awlus—life long！”
Slackbridge jumped up and stood beside him； gnashing and
tearing。 “Oh my friends； what but this did I tell you？ Oh my fellow…
countrymen； what warning but this did I give you？ And how
shows this recreant conduct in a man on whom unequal laws are
known to have fallen heavy？ Oh you Englishmen； I ask you how
does this subornation show in one of yourselves； who is thus
consenting to his own undoing and to yours； and to your children’s
and your children’s children？”
There was some applause； and some crying of Shame upon the
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man； but the greater part of the audience were quiet。 They looked
at Stephen’s worn face； rendered more pathetic by the homely
emotions it evinced； and； in the kindness of their nature； they were
more sorry than indignant。
“’Tis this Delegate’s trade for t’ speak；” said Stephen； “an he’s
paid for’t； and he knows his work。 Let him keep to’t。 Let him give
no heed to what I ha had’n to bear。 That’s not for him。 That’s not
for nobbody but me。”
There was a propriety； not to say a dignity in these words； that
made the hearers yet more quiet and attentive。 The same strong
voice called out； “Slackbridge； let the man be heern； and howd
thee tongue！” Then the place was wonderfully still。
“My brothers；” said Stephen； whose low voice was distinctly
heard； “and my fellow…workmen—for that yo are to me； though
not； as I knows on； to this delegate heer—I ha but a word to sen；
and I could sen nommore if I was to speak till Strike o’ day。 I know
weel； aw what’s afore me。 I know weel that yo are aw resolved to
ha nommore ado wi’ a man who is not wi’ yo in this matther。 I
know weel that if I was a lyin’ parisht i’ th’ road； yo’d feel it right to
pass me by； as a forrenner and stranger。 What I ha getn； I mun
mak th’ best on。”
“Stephen Blackpool；” said the chairman； rising； “think on’t
agen。 Think on’t once agen； lad； afore thour’t shunned by aw owd
friends。”
There was an universal murmur to the same effect； though no
man articulated a word。 Every eye was fixed on Stephen’s face。 To
repent of his determination； would be to take a load from all their
minds。 He looked around him； and knew that it was so。 Not a grain
of anger with them was in his heart； he knew them； far below their
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surface weaknesses and misconceptions； as no one but their
fellow…labourer could。
“I ha thowt on’t； above a bit； sir。 I simply canna comm in。 I mun
go th’ way as lays afore me。 I mun tak my leave o’ aw heer。”
He made a sort of reverence to them by holding up his arms；
and stood for the moment in that attitude： not speaking until they
slowly dropped at his sides。
“Monny’s the pleasant word as soom heer has spoke’n wi’ me；
monny’s the face I see heer； as I first seen when I were yoong and
lighter heart’n than now。 I ha never had no fratch afore； sin ever I
were born； wi’ any o’ my like； Gonnows I ha’ none now that’s o’ my