Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

In which a Great Patriotic Conference is holden

The famous name of Merdle became, every day, more famous in the
land. Nobody knew that the Merdle of such high renown had ever
done any good to any one, alive or dead, or to any earthly thing;
nobody knew that he had any capacity or utterance of any sort in
him, which had ever thrown, for any creature, the feeblest
farthing-candle ray of light on any path of duty or diversion, pain
or pleasure, toil or rest, fact or fancy, among the multiplicity of
paths in the labyrinth trodden by the sons of Adam; nobody had the
smallest reason for supposing the clay of which this object of
worship was made, to be other than the commonest clay, with as
clogged a wick smouldering inside of it as ever kept an image of
humanity from tumbling to pieces. All people knew (or thought they
knew) that he had made himself immensely rich; and, for that reason
alone, prostrated themselves before him, more degradedly and less
excusably than the darkest savage creeps out of his hole in the
ground to propitiate, in some log or reptile, the Deity of his
benighted soul.

Nay, the high priests of this worship had the man before them as a
protest against their meanness. The multitude worshipped on
trust--though always distinctly knowing why--but the officiators at
the altar had the man habitually in their view. They sat at his
feasts, and he sat at theirs. There was a spectre always attendant
on him, saying to these high priests, 'Are such the signs you
trust, and love to honour; this head, these eyes, this mode of
speech, the tone and manner of this man? You are the levers of the
Circumlocution Office, and the rulers of men. When half-a-dozen of
you fall out by the ears, it seems that mother earth can give birth
to no other rulers. Does your qualification lie in the superior
knowledge of men which accepts, courts, and puffs this man? Or, if
you are competent to judge aright the signs I never fail to show
you when he appears among you, is your superior honesty your
qualification?' Two rather ugly questions these, always going
about town with Mr Merdle; and there was a tacit agreement that
they must be stifled. In Mrs Merdle's absence abroad, Mr Merdle
still kept the great house open for the passage through it of a
stream Of visitors. A few of these took affable possession of the
establishment. Three or four ladies of distinction and liveliness
used to say to one another, 'Let us dine at our dear Merdle's next
Thursday. Whom shall we have?' Our dear Merdle would then receive
his instructions; and would sit heavily among the company at table
and wander lumpishly about his drawing-rooms afterwards, only
remarkable for appearing to have nothing to do with