Chapter XXIX

The man had gone back to a seat upon the platform,
and Jurgis realized that his speech was over. The applause
continued for several minutes; and then someone started
a song, and the crowd took it up, and the place shook with
it. Jurgis had never heard it, and he could not make out
the words, but the wild and wonderful spirit of it seized
upon him -- it was the Marseillaise! As stanza after
stanza of it thundered forth, he sat with his hands clasped,
trembling in every nerve. He had never been so stirred
in his life -- it was a miracle that had been wrought in
him. He could not think at all, he was stunned; yet he
knew that in the mighty upheaval that had taken place in
his soul, a new man had been born. He had been torn out
of the jaws of destruction, he had been delivered from the
thraldom of despair; the whole world had been changed
for him -- he was free, he was free! Even if he were to
suffer as he had before, even if he were to beg and starve,
nothing would be the same to him; he would understand
it, and bear it. He would no longer be the sport of circum~
stances, he would be a man, with a will and a purpose; he
would have something to fight for, something to die for, if
need be! Here were men who would show him and help
him; and he would have friends and allies, he would dwell
in the sight of justice, and walk arm in arm with power.

The audience subsided again, and Jurgis sat back. The
chairman of the meeting came forward and began to speak.
His voice sounded thin and futile after the other's, and to
Jurgis it seemed a profanation. Why should any one else
speak, after that miraculous man -- why should they not
all sit in silence? The chairman was explaining that a

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v?