Text four

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The new bourgeoisie was enormously proud of having fought its way to a position from which it might command power and influence, both at home and far away, in the East and in the West. In the Victorian mind the ideal of strength is a combination of force and firmness. On the one hand, there is enormous admiration for the power of machines, and of the men who make them and run them; for the combative and even belligerent temper with its refusal to recognize defeat or mistakes, and its useful assumption that those it dislikes are knaves or weaklings.

On the other hand, there is the complimentary admiration for “character” – the mastery of the passions, patience and resolutions, the con­trolled energy focused on work.

The Victorian Englishman is armed with self-content and tenacity, he successfully shoulders his way through the troubles of the universe. He is combative and enthusiastic. In this can be traced the lineaments of John Bull who was a national symbol of the time. He is one of the vigorous stock of strong silent people, scornful of logic and intellectual pursuits but wonderfully equipped with obstinate toughness of muscle and toughness of heart, which means persistence, hopeful and even desperate.

“Punch” carried the cartoon which described John Bull as wearing top-boots, a low-crowned hat, and carrying a cudgel in his hand. He is capable of standing his ground against the most vigorous adversary even when it conies to blows. His twinkling or angry eyes, his beetle brows, the entire expression of his countenance, betray marked animal characteristics and the choleric temperament. His forehead is small, his intellect barren; his ideas are few and petty. By way of compensation, he is gifted with good sense and energy, a fund of good temper, loyalty, perseverance, and determination; that firmness of character, by means of which a man gets on in the world.

More exciting than any scientific or executive strength was the sense of personal power. Never before had the captains of industry controlled so many men or so much capital on such a global scale. Furthermore, the struggle for power against personal rivals, domestic and foreign competitors, or rebellious hands, who joined unions and organized strikes, released the most aggressive impulses; the more readily the duties and obligations of the old feudal system were now scrapped, leaving economic life under the new system of laissez-faire.

Of all the criticisms brought against them, the Victorians would have pleaded guilty to only one. They would have defended or excused their optimism, their dogmatism, their appeal to force, their strait-laced morality, but they would have confessed to an unfortunate strain of hypocrisy. To understand the charge, it must be broken down into three specific counts. One, they concealed or suppressed their true convictions and their natural tastes. They said the “right” thing or did the “right” thing: they sacrificed sincerity to propriety. Second, and worse, they pretended to be better than they were. They passed themselves off as being incredibly pious and moral; they talked noble sentiments and lived-quite otherwise. Finally, they refused to look at life candidly. They shut eyes to whatever was ugly or unpleasant and pretended it didn’t exist. Conformity, moral pretension, and evasion-those are the hallmarks of Victorian hypocrisy.