ey appear on their own account they can only
make a sure and pronounced effect by perceptibly forcing their note. A
little too much is expected of them, and they must make an unnatural
effort to meet it.

My instance is a small one, no doubt, to be pressed so far; in
lingering over these shades of treatment a critic, it may be thought,
loses sight of the book itself. But I am not trying, of course, to
criticize Vanity Fair; I am looking for certain details of method, and
the small instance is surely illuminating. It shows how little
Thackeray's fashion of handling a novel allowed for the big dramatic
scene, when at length it had to be faced--how he neglected it in
advance, how he refused it till the last possible moment. It is as
though he never quite trusted his men and women when he had to place
things entirely in their care, standing aside to let them act; he
wanted to intervene continually, he hesitated to leave them alone save
for a brief and belated half-hour. It was perverse of him, because the
men and women would have acquitted themselves so strikingly with a
better chance; he gave them life and vigour enough for much more
independence than they ever enjoyed. The culmination of Becky's
adventure offered a clear opening for full dramatic effect, if he had
chosen to take advantage of it. He had steadily piled up his
impression, carefully brought all the sense of the situation to
converge upon a single point; everything was ready for the great scene
of Becky's triumph in the face of the world, one memorable night of a
party at Gaunt House. It is incredible that he should let the
opportunity slip. There was a chance of a straight, unhampered view
of the whole meaning of his matter; nothing was needed but to allow
the scene to show itself, fairly and squarely. All its force would
have been lent to the disaster that follows; the dismay, the
disillusion, the snarl of anger and defiance, all would have been made
beforehand. By so much would the effect of the impending scene, the
scene of catastrophe, have been strengthened. There would have been no
necessity for the sudden heightening of the pitch, the thickening of
the colour, the incongruous and theatrical tone.

Yet the chance is missed, the triumphal evening passes in a confused
haze that leaves the situation exactly where it was before. The
episode is only a repetition of the kind of thing that has happened
already. There are echoes of festive sound and a rumour