Most of the humbugs and impostors are, like the philanthropist, professional. Dodson and Fogg, Sergeant Buzfuz, Mr. Tulkinghorn, turn their intrigues into legal channels; Mr. Bumble and Mrs. Mann, into civic; Dr. Blimber and Mrs. Pipchin, into pedagogic. Mr. Merdle tricks the financial world, though Mr. Casby, operating on a smaller scale, makes himself much more of a fraud. Mr. Crummles, Mrs. Gamp, Mrs. Crupp, in their various capacities, abstain from giving their patrons value received. The Barnacles, parasites clinging to the Ship of State, pose as public servants and benefactors.
It happens, however, that those who confine their dissembling and pretense to private life are of the highest hypocritical quality. Mr. Mantalini expertly bamboozles his wife. Mrs. Sparsit successfully plays her part for the benefit of Mr. Bounderby. Mr. Pumblechook protests too much to little Pip, now grown up and prosperous, but carries it off with an air. Mr. Carker, who “hid himself behind his sleek, hushed, crouching manner, and his ivory smile,” and who, “sly of manner, sharp of tooth, soft of foot, watchful of eye, oily of tongue, cruel of heart, nice of habit, sat with a dainty steadfastness and patience at his work, as if he were waiting at a mouse’s hole,” finally catches his mouse, though only to be eluded again.
A perfect modern instance of the bubble pricked by the ancient Socratic method is that of Mr. Curdle, eminent dramatic critic. He has been talking big about the Unities of the Drama. Nicholas innocently asks what they might be. He is informed:[356]
“Mr. Curdle coughed and considered. ‘The unities, sir,’ he said, ‘are a completeness—a kind of universal dovetailedness with regard to place and time—a sort of a general oneness, if I may be allowed to use so strong an expression. I take those to be the dramatic unities, so far as I have been enabled to bestow attention upon them, and I have read much upon the subject and thought much. I find, running through the performances of this child,’ said Mr. Curdle, turning to the Phenomenon, ‘a unity of feeling, a breadth, a light and shade, a warmth of colouring, a tone, a harmony, a glow, an artistical development of original conceptions, which I look for, in vain, among older performers. I don’t know whether I make myself understood?’
“‘Perfectly,’ replied Nicholas.
“‘Just so,’ said Mr. Curdle, pulling up his neckcloth. ‘That is my definition of the unities of the drama.’”
The great trio, Pecksniff, Bagstock, and Heep, occur in the three successive novels of the six years ending with the mid-century. Pecksniff is the most gratuitous offender, for he encases himself in piety and benevolence, and inserts his falseness into every word, every deed, every relation of life. Heep’s specious humility is as unrelaxed and vigilant, but it is more of a means to an end and not, like Pecksniff’s, an end in itself. He fawns and flatters and cheats for the benefits to be derived from such policies. Thus slippery are the steps of Uriah’s ladder. He has, moreover, a word of self-defense which forces his educational training to share the responsibility. When he is reminded by Copperfield that greed and cunning always overreach themselves, he retorts by implicating the school where he was taught “from nine o’clock to eleven, that labour was a curse; and from eleven o’clock to one, that it was a blessing and a cheerfulness and a dignity,” and so on. Major Bagstock resembles Heep in being servile in manner instead of pompously patronizing; but while Chesterton may be right in calling him a more subtle hypocrite than Pecksniff,[357] it is also true that the Major’s hypocrisy is not quite his whole existence, as it is of both Pecksniff and Heep. He is at least a gourmand in addition, if nothing more.
Before Dickens, in our period, the only character to exemplify this trait, aside from Peacock’s Feathernest, is Lytton’s Robert Beaufort, in Night and Morning. The author remarks in a later preface that this character might be rated as a forerunner to Pecksniff; but he is in reality more of the Blifil type, his brother Philip acting as his Tom Jones.
Lytton, however, is inclined to discuss the subject by the way. In one of his earlier novels he says,—[358]
“Honesty—patriotism—religion—these have had their hypocrites for life;—but passion permits only momentary dissemblers.”