fourteenth week of the Strike was headed
with this quotation from MR. CARLYLE.
"Adversity is sometimes hard upon a man;
but for one man who can stand prosperity,
there are a hundred that will stand adversity."
The Elton district prefaced its report with
these lines:

"Oh! ye who start a noble scheme,
   For general good designed;
Ye workers in a cause that tends
   To benefit your kind!
Mark out the path ye fain would tread,
   The game ye mean to play;
And if it be an honest one,
   Keep steadfast in your way!

"Although you may not gain at once
   The points ye most desire;
Be patient—time can wonders work;
   Plod on, and do not tire:
Obstructions, too, may crowd your path,
   In threatening, stern array;
Yet flinch not! fear not! they may prove
   Mere shadows in your way.

"Then, while there's work for you to do,
   Stand not despairing by,
Let ' forward' be the move ye make,
   Let ' onward' be your cry;
And when success has crowned your plans,
   'Twill all your pains repay,
To see the good your labour's done—
  Then droop not on your way."

In this list, "Bear ye one another's
burthens," sent one pound fifteen. " We'll stand
to our text, see that ye love one another,"
sent nineteen shillings. " Christopher
Hardman's men again, they say they can always
spare one shilling out of ten," sent two and
sixpence. The following masked threats were
the worst feature in any bill I saw:

"If that fiddler at Uncle Tom's Cabin blowing
room does not pay. Punch will set his legs straight.
"If that drawer at card side and those two slubbers
do not pay. Punch will say something about
their bustles,
"If that winder at last shift does not pay next
week, Punch will tell about her actions."

But, on looking at this bill again, I found
that it came from Bury, and related to Bury,
and had nothing to do with Preston. The
Masters' placards were not torn down or
disfigured, but were being read quite as
attentively as those on the opposite side.

That evening, the Delegates from the
surrounding districts were coming in, according
to custom, with their subscription lists for
the week just closed. These delegates meet
on Sunday as their only day of leisure; when
they have made their reports, they go back to
their homes and their Monday's work. On
Sunday morning, I repaired to the Delegates'
meeting.

These assemblages take place in a cockpit,
which, in the better times of our fallen land,
belonged to the late Lord Derby for the
purposes of the intellectual recreation implied in
its name. I was directed to the cockpit up a
narrow lane, tolerably crowded by the lower
sort of working people. Personally, I was
quite unknown in the town, but every one
made way for me to pass, with great civility,
and perfect good humour. Arrived at the
cockpit door, and expressing my desire to see
and hear, I was handed through the crowd,
down into the pit; and up again, until I found
myself seated on the topmost circular bench,
within one of the secretary's table, and within
three of the chairman. Behind the chairman
was a great crown on the top of a pole, made
of parti-coloured calico, and strongly suggestive
of May-day. There was no other symbol
or ornament in the place.

It was hotter than any mill or factory I
have ever been in; but there was a stove
down in the sanded pit, and delegates were
seated close to it, and one particular delegate
often warmed his hands at it, as if he were
chilly. The air was so intensely close and
hot, that at first I had but a confused perception
of the delegates down in the pit, and the
dense crowd of eagerly listening men and
women (but not very many of the latter) filling
all the benches and choking such narrow
standing-room as there was. When the
atmosphere cleared a little on better acquaintance,
I found the question under discussion
to be, Whether the Manchester Delegates in
attendance from the Labour Parliament, should
he heard?

If the Assembly, in respect of quietness
and order were put in comparison with the
House of Commons, the Right Honourable
the Speaker himself would decide for Preston.
The chairman was a Preston weaver, two or
three and fifty years of age, perhaps; a man
with a capacious head, rather long dark hair
growing at the sides and back, a placid attentive
face, keen eyes, a particularly composed
manner, a quiet voice, and a persuasive action of
his right arm. Now look'ee heer my friends.
See what t' question is. T' question is, sholl
these heer men be heerd. Then 't cooms to
this, what ha' these men got t' tell us? Do they
bring money? If they bring mooney t'ords t'
expences o' this strike, they're welcome. For,
Brass, my friends, is what we want, and what
we must ha' (hear, hear, hear!). Do they
coom to us wi' any suggestion for the conduct
of this strike? If they do, they're welcome.
Let 'em give us their advice and we will
hearken to 't. But, if these men coom heer,
to tell us what t' Labour Parliament is,
or what Ernest Jones's opinions is, or t'
bring in politics and differences among us
when what we want is 'armony, brotherly
love, and con-cord; then I say 't you, decide
for yoursel' carefully, whether these men ote to
be heerd in this place. (Hear hear hear! and
No no no!) Chairman sits down, earnestly
regarding delegates, and holding both arms
of his chair. Looks extremely sensible; his
plain coarse working man's shirt collar easily
turned down over his loose Belcher neckerchief.
Delegate who has moved that Man-