Sybil, Benjamin Disraeli [books to read for self improvement .txt] 📗

gap in the flow of fascination, and by means which we cannot trace, and by an agency which we cannot pursue, we find ourselves in some enrapturing situation that is as it were the ecstasy of our life; so it happened now, that while in clear and precise order there seemed to flit over the soul of Sybil all that had passed, all that he had done, all that she felt⁠—by some mystical process which memory could not recall, Sybil found herself pressed to the throbbing heart of Egremont, nor shrinking from the embrace which expressed the tenderness of his devoted love! X

Mowbray was in a state of great excitement. It was Saturday evening: the mills were closed; the news had arrived of the arrest of the Delegate.

“Here’s a go!” said Dandy Mick to Devilsdust. “What do you think of this?”

“It’s the beginning of the end,” said Devilsdust.

“The deuce!” said the Dandy, who did not clearly comprehend the bent of the observation of his much pondering and philosophic friend, but was touched by its oracular terseness.

“We must see Warner.” said Devilsdust, “and call a meeting of the people on the moor for tomorrow evening. I will draw up some resolutions. We must speak out; we must terrify the capitalists.”

“I am all for a strike,” said Mick.

“ ’Tisn’t ripe,” said Devilsdust.

“But that’s what you always say, Dusty,” said Mick.

“I watch events,” said Devilsdust. “If you want to be a leader of the people you must learn to watch events.”

“But what do you mean by watching events?”

“Do you see Mother Carey’s stall?” said Dusty, pointing in the direction of the counter of the good-natured widow.

“I should think I did; and what’s more, Julia owes her a tick for herrings.”

“Right,” said Devilsdust: “and nothing but herrings are to be seen on her board. Two years ago it was meat.”

“I twig,” said Mick.

“Wait till it’s wegetables; when the people can’t buy even fish. Then we will talk about strikes. That’s what I call watching events.”

Julia, Caroline, and Harriet came up to them.

“Mick,” said Julia, “we want to go to the Temple.”

“I wish you may get it,” said Mick shaking his head. “When you have learnt to watch events, Julia, you will understand that under present circumstances the Temple is no go.”

“And why so, Dandy?” said Julia.

“Do you see Mother Carey’s stall?” said Mick, pointing in that direction. “When there’s a tick at Madam Carey’s there is no tin for Chaffing Jack. That’s what I call watching events.”

“Oh! as for the tin,” said Caroline, “in these halftime days that’s quite out of fashion. But they do say it’s the last night at the Temple, for Chaffing Jack means to shut up, it does not pay any longer; and we want a lark. I’ll stand treat; I’ll put my earrings up the spout⁠—they must go at last, and I would sooner at any time go to my uncle’s for frolic than woe.”

“I am sure I should like very much to go to the Temple if anyone would pay for me,” said Harriet, “but I won’t pawn nothing.”

“If we only pay and hear them sing,” said Julia in a coaxing tone.

“Very like,” said Mick; “there’s nothing that makes one so thirsty as listening to a song, particularly if it touches the feelings. Don’t you remember, Dusty, when we used to encore that German fellow in ‘Scots wha ha.’ We always had it five times. Hang me if I wasn’t blind drunk at the end of it.”

“I tell you what, young ladies,” said Devilsdust, looking very solemn, “you’re dancing on a volcano.”

“Oh! my,” said Caroline. “I am sure I wish we were; though what you mean exactly I don’t quite know.”

“I mean that we shall all soon be slaves,” said Devilsdust.

“Not if we get the Ten-Hour Bill,” said Harriet.

“And no cleaning of machinery in meal time,” said Julia; “that is a shame.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about,” said Devilsdust. “I tell you, if the capitalists put down Gerard we’re done for another ten years, and by that time we shall be all used up.”

“Lor! Dusty, you quite terrify one,” said Caroline.

“It’s a true bill though. Instead of going to the Temple we must meet on the moor, and in as great numbers as possible. Go you and get all your sweethearts. I must see your father, Harriet; he must preside. We will have the hymn of labour sung by a hundred thousand voices in chorus. It will strike terror into the hearts of the capitalists. This is what we must all be thinking of if we wish labour to have a chance, not of going to Chaffing Jack’s and listening to silly songs. D’ye understand?”

“Don’t we!” said Caroline; “and for my part for a summer eve I prefer Mowbray Moor to all the Temples in the world, particularly if it’s a sociable party and we have some good singing.”

This evening it was settled among the principal champions of the cause of labour, among whom Devilsdust was now included, that on the morrow there should be a monster meeting on the moor to take into consideration the arrest of the delegate of Mowbray. Such was the complete organisation of this district that by communicating with the various lodges of the Trades Unions fifty thousand persons, or even double that number, could within four-and-twenty hours on a great occasion and on a favourable day be brought into the field. The morrow being a day of rest was favourable, and the seizure of their cherished delegate was a stimulating cause. The excitement was great, the enthusiasm earnest and deep. There was enough distress to make people discontented without depressing them. And Devilsdust after attending a council of the Union, retired to rest and dreamed of strong speeches and spicy resolutions, bands and banners, the cheers of assembled thousands, and the eventual triumph of the sacred rights.

The post of the next morning brought great and stirring news to Mowbray. Gerard had undergone his examination at Bow Street. It