Book The Second: Riches Chapter 12 In which a Great Patriotic Conference is holden

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 the
entertainment beyond being in its way.

The Chief Butler, the Avenging Spirit of this great man's life, relaxed
nothing of his severity. He looked on at these dinners when the bosom
was not there, as he looked on at other dinners when the bosom was
there; and his eye was a basilisk to Mr Merdle. He was a hard man, and
would never bate an ounce of plate or a bottle of wine. He would not
allow a dinner to be given, unless it was up to his mark. He set forth
the table for his own dignity.