Adam Bede

her and advancing towards her. He had never yet spoken to her, or stood face to face with her, and her first thought, as her eyes met his, was, “What a well

hich would have been equally in place if she had

ourhood, I think?” were his first word

ry kind, wanting me to have rest from my work there, because I’d b

eak place. They were building a cotton- mill there; but that’s many years ago now. I s

it, and make it better for the tradesfolks. I work in it myself, and have reason to be grateful, for thereby

, probably, so that you are atta

esides my Aunt Poyser, who is very good to me, and would have me come and live in this country, which to be sure is a good land, wherein they eat bread

s friends and companions there; you a

, and I have cause to be thankful for the privileg

t of preaching? For I understand yo

ork four years since,

nctions women’s

ty, I believe, before she was married, when she was Miss Bosanquet; and Mr. Wesley approved of her undertaking the work. She had a great gift, and there are many others now living who are precious fellow-helpers in the work of the ministry. I understand th

— but don’t you find sometimes that both men and women fancy themselves channels for God’s Spirit, and are

wn selves. But we are not without discipline and correction to put a check upon these things. There’s a very strict order kept among us, and the breth

really interested in knowing it — how

my soul — as the pebbles lie bathed in the Willow Brook. For thoughts are so great — aren’t they, sir? They seem to lie upon us like a deep flood; and it’s my besetment to forget where I am and everything about me, and lose myself in thoughts that I could give no account of, for I could neither make a beginning nor ending of them in words. That was my way as long as I can remember; but sometimes it seemed as if speech came to me without any will o

es — just how it was, the ve

made him afraid of falling, for he overworked himself sadly, at his years, in watching and praying, and walking so many miles to speak the Word, as well as carrying on his trade of linen-weaving. And when we got to the village, the people were expecting him, for he’d appointed the time and the place when he was there before, and such of them as cared to hear the Word of Life were assembled on a spot where the cottages was thickest, so as others might be drawn to come. But he felt as he couldn’t stand up to preach, and he was forced to lie down in the first of the cottages we came to. So I went to tell the people, thinking we’d go into one of the houses, and I would read and pray with them. But as I passed along by the cottages a

h she always mastered her audience. She stooped now to gather up her sewing, and then went on with it as before. Mr. Irwine was deeply interested. He sa

nse of your youth — that you are a lovely young w

ng bush: Moses never took any heed what sort of bush it was — he only saw the brightness of the Lord. I’ve preached to as rough ignorant people as can be in the villages about S

rwine, emphatically. “And what did you think of your heare

ve noticed that in these villages where the people lead a quiet life among the green pastures and the still waters, tilling the ground and tending the cattle, there’s a strange deadness to the Word, as different as can be from the great towns, like Leeds, where I once went to visit a holy woman who preaches there. It’s w

as slowly as the sheep and cows. But we have some intelligent workmen about

n — sincere and without offence; and Adam is like the patriarch Joseph, for his gr

m? Their father, Matthias Bede, was drowned in the Willow Brook l

tying eyes, as if she saw the object of her sympathy. “She will mourn heavily, for Seth has

lk-pans, came out of the dairy, followed by Mrs. Poyser. Mr. Irwine now rose also, and, advancing towards Dinah, held out his hand, and sa

d her face was brighter than usual, as she said, “I’ve never asked after

ne of her bad headaches today. By the by, we all liked th

give my duty to her, and to Miss Kate and Miss Anne. They’ve never been to look at my poultry this long while, and

ome and see them. Good-bye,” sai

e you in three minutes. I’m only going to speak to the shepherd about the whelps. Goo

yrrhic dance, that every moment seemed to threaten the breaking of his chain. Mrs. Poyser delighted in this noisy exit; it was a fresh assurance to her that the farm-yard was well guarded, and that no loiterers could enter unobse

, deferred remarking on it until she had disburdene

n? What did he say to you, Dinah?

ut to speak to him; I hardly know how, for I had always thought of him as a w

ned sixty-six. It’s summat-like to see such a man as that i’ the desk of a Sunday! As I say to Poyser, it’s like looking at a full crop o’ wheat, or a pasture with a fine dairy o’ cows in it; it makes you think the world’s comfortable-like. But as for such creaturs as you Methodisses run after,

e something that I’m sure will cause you sorrow, as it does me. Thias Bede was drowned last night in the Willow Brook, and I’m thinking tha

s welcome in trouble, Methodist or no Methodist; but, for the matter o’ that, it’s the flesh and blood folks are made on as makes the difference. Some cheeses are made o’ skimmed milk and some o’ new milk, and it’s no matter what you call ’em, you may tell which is which by the look and the smell. But as to Thias Bede, he’s better out o’ the way nor in — God fo

ay towards the pantry for the loaf (followed close by Totty, who had made her appearance on the rattling of the tea-cups),

st run out and get me a bunch of dock-le

’s happened, Hett

anything?” was the an

a-dressing yourself for two hours by the clock. But anybody besides yourself ’ud mind about such things happening to them as think a deal more

l and looking rather bewildered, but suspecting that he

ut deigning more precise information. “Not Adam. Adam’s father, the old man, is drowned

ected; and as Molly now entered with the dock-leaves, she took them