Chapter Forty-Four

Martin Chuzzlewit

by Charles Dickens

FURTHER CONTINUATION OF THE ENTERPRISE OF MR JONAS AND HIS
FRIEND

It was a special quality, among the many admirable qualities
possessed by Mr Pecksniff, that the more he was found out, the more
hypocrisy he practised. Let him be discomfited in one quarter, and
he refreshed and recompensed himself by carrying the war into
another. If his workings and windings were detected by A, so much
the greater reason was there for practicing without loss of time on
B, if it were only to keep his hand in. He had never been such a
saintly and improving spectacle to all about him, as after his
detection by Thomas Pinch. He had scarcely ever been at once so
tender in his humanity, and so dignified and exalted in his virtue,
as when young Martin's scorn was fresh and hot upon him.

Having this large stock of superfluous sentiment and morality on
hand which must positively be cleared off at any sacrifice, Mr
Pecksniff no sooner heard his son-in-law announced, than he regarded
him as a kind of wholesale or general order, to be immediately
executed. Descending, therefore, swiftly to the parlour, and
clasping the young man in his arms, he exclaimed, with looks and
gestures that denoted the perturbation of his spirit:

'Jonas. My child--she is well! There is nothing the
matter?'

'What, you're at it again, are you?' replied his son-in-law.
'Even with me? Get away with you, will you?'

'Tell me she is well then,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'Tell me she is
well my boy!'

'She's well enough,' retorted Jonas, disengaging himself.
'There's nothing the matter with her.'

'There is nothing the matter with her!' cried Mr Pecksniff,
sitting down in the nearest chair, and rubbing up his hair. 'Fie
upon my weakness! I cannot help it, Jonas. Thank you. I am better
now. How is my other child; my eldest; my Cherrywerrychigo?' said Mr
Pecksniff, inventing a playful little name for her, in the restored
lightness of his heart.

'She's much about the same as usual,' returned Jonas. 'She
sticks pretty close to the vinegar-bottle. You know she's got a
sweetheart, I suppose?'

'I have heard of it,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'from headquarters;
from my child herself I will not deny that it moved me to contemplate
the loss of my remaining daughter, Jonas--I am afraid we parents are
selfish, I am afraid we are--but it has ever been the study of my
life to qualify them for the domestic hearth; and it is a sphere
which Cherry will adorn.'

'She need adorn some sphere or other,' observed the son-in-law,
for she ain't very ornamental in general.'

'My girls are now provided for,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'They are
now happily provided for, and I have not laboured in vain!'

This is exactly what Mr Pecksniff would have said, if one of his
daughters had drawn a prize of thirty thousand pounds in the lottery,
or if the other had picked up a valuable purse in the street, which
nobody appeared to claim. In either of these cases he would have
invoked a patriarchal blessing on the fortunate head, with great
solemnity, and would have taken immense credit to himself, as having
meant it from the infant's cradle.

'Suppose we talk about something else, now,' observed Jonas,
drily. 'just for a change. Are you quite agreeable?'

'Quite,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'Ah, you wag, you naughty wag! You
laugh at poor old fond papa. Well! He deserves it. And he don't
mind it either, for his feelings are their own reward. You have come
to stay with me, Jonas?'

'No. I've got a friend with me,' said Jonas.

'Bring your friend!' cried Mr Pecksniff, in a gush of
hospitality. 'Bring any number of your friends!'

'This ain't the sort of man to be brought,' said Jonas,
contemptuously. 'I think I see myself "bringing" him to your house,
for a treat! Thank'ee all the same; but he's a little too near the
top of the tree for that, Pecksniff.'

The good man pricked up his ears; his interest was awakened. A
position near the top of the tree was greatness, virtue, goodness,
sense, genius; or, it should rather be said, a dispensation from all,
and in itself something immeasurably better than all; with Mr
Pecksniff. A man who was able to look down upon Mr Pecksniff could
not be looked up at, by that gentleman, with too great an amount of
deference, or from a position of too much humility. So it always is
with great spirits.

'I'll tell you what you may do, if you like,' said Jonas; 'you
may come and dine with us at the Dragon. We were forced to come down
to Salisbury last night, on some business, and I got him to bring me
over here this morning, in his carriage; at least, not his own
carriage, for we had a breakdown in the night, but one we hired
instead; it's all the same. Mind what you're about, you know. He's
not used to all sorts; he only mixes with the best!'

'Some young nobleman who has been borrowing money of you at good
interest, eh?' said Mr Pecksniff, shaking his forefinger facetiously.
'I shall be delighted to know the gay sprig.'

'Borrowing!' echoed Jonas. 'Borrowing! When you're a twentieth
part as rich as he is, you may shut up shop! We should be pretty
well off if we could buy his furniture, and plate, and pictures, by
clubbing together. A likely man to borrow: Mr Montague! Why since I
was lucky enough (come! and I'll say, sharp enough, too) to get a
share in the Assurance office that he's President of, I've
made--never mind what I've made,' said Jonas, seeming to recover all
at once his usual caution. 'You know me pretty well, and I don't
blab about such things. But, Ecod, I've made a trifle.'

'Really, my dear Jonas,' cried Mr Pecksniff, with much warmth,
'a gentleman like this should receive some attention. Would he like
to see the church? or if he has a taste for the fine arts--which I
have no doubt he has, from the description you give of his
circumstances--I can send him down a few portfolios. Salisbury
Cathedral, my dear Jonas,' said Mr Pecksniff; the mention of the
portfolios and his anxiety to display himself to advantage,
suggesting his usual phraseology in that regard, 'is an edifice
replete with venerable associations, and strikingly suggestive of the
loftiest emotions. It is here we contemplate the work of bygone
ages. It is here we listen to the swelling organ, as we stroll
through the reverberating aisles. We have drawings of this
celebrated structure from the North, from the South, from the East,
from the West, from the South-East, from the Nor'West--'

During this digression, and indeed during the whole dialogue,
Jonas had been rocking on his chair, with his hands in his pockets
and his head thrown cunningly on one side. He looked at Mr Pecksniff
now with such shrewd meaning twinkling in his eyes, that Mr Pecksniff
stopped, and asked him what he was going to say.

'Ecod!' he answered. 'Pecksniff if I knew how you meant to
leave your money, I could put you in the way of doubling it in no
time. It wouldn't be bad to keep a chance like this snug in the
family. But you're such a deep one!'

'Jonas!' cried Mr Pecksniff, much affected, 'I am not a
diplomatical character; my heart is in my hand. By far the greater
part of the inconsiderable savings I have accumulated in the course
of--I hope--a not dishonourable or useless career, is already given,
devised, and bequeathed (correct me, my dear Jonas, if I am
technically wrong), with expressions of confidence, which I will not
repeat; and in securities which it is unnecessary to mention to a
person whom I cannot, whom I will not, whom I need not, name.' Here
he gave the hand of his son-in-law a fervent squeeze, as if he would
have added, 'God bless you; be very careful of it when you get
it!'

Mr Jonas only shook his head and laughed, and, seeming to think
better of what he had had in his mind, said, 'No. He would keep his
own counsel.' But as he observed that he would take a walk, Mr
Pecksniff insisted on accompanying him, remarking that he could leave
a card for Mr Montague, as they went along, by way of gentleman-usher
to himself at dinner-time. Which he did.

In the course of their walk, Mr Jonas affected to maintain that
close reserve which had operated as a timely check upon him during
the foregoing dialogue. And as he made no attempt to conciliate Mr
Pecksniff, but, on the contrary, was more boorish and rude to him
than usual, that gentleman, so far from suspecting his real design,
laid himself out to be attacked with advantage. For it is in the
nature of a knave to think the tools with which he works
indispensable to knavery; and knowing what he would do himself in
such a case, Mr Pecksniff argued, 'if this young man wanted anything
of me for his own ends, he would be polite and deferential.'

The more Jonas repelled him in his hints and inquiries, the more
solicitous, therefore, Mr Pecksniff became to be initiated into the
golden mysteries at which he had obscurely glanced. Why should there
be cold and worldly secrets, he observed, between relations? What was
life without confidence? If the chosen husband of his daughter, the
man to whom he had delivered her with so much pride and hope, such
bounding and such beaming joy; if he were not a green spot in the
barren waste of life, where was that oasis to be bound?

Little did Mr Pecksniff think on what a very green spot he
planted one foot at that moment! Little did he foresee when he said,
'All is but dust!' how very shortly he would come down with his
own!

Inch by inch, in his grudging and ill-conditioned way; sustained
to the life, for the hope of making Mr Pecksniff suffer in that
tender place, the pocket, where Jonas smarted so terribly himself,
gave him an additional and malicious interest in the wiles he was set
on to practise; inch by inch, and bit by bit, Jonas rather allowed
the dazzling prospects of the Anglo-Bengalee establishment to escape
him, than paraded them before his greedy listener. And in the same
niggardly spirit, he left Mr Pecksniff to infer, if he chose (which
he did choose, of course), that a consciousness of not having any
great natural gifts of speech and manner himself, rendered him
desirous to have the credit of introducing to Mr Montague some one
who was well endowed in those respects, and so atone for his own
deficiencies. Otherwise, he muttered discontentedly, he would have
seen his beloved father-in-law 'far enough off,' before he would have
taken him into his confidence.

Primed in this artful manner, Mr Pecksniff presented himself at
dinner-time in such a state of suavity, benevolence, cheerfulness,
politeness, and cordiality, as even he had perhaps never attained
before. The frankness of the country gentleman, the refinement of
the artist, the good-humoured allowance of the man of the world;
philanthropy, forbearance, piety, toleration, all blended together in
a flexible adaptability to anything and everything; were expressed in
Mr Pecksniff, as he shook hands with the great speculator and
capitalist.

'Welcome, respected sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'to our humble
village! We are a simple people; primitive clods, Mr Montague; but we
can appreciate the honour of your visit, as my dear son-in-law can
testify. It is very strange,' said Mr Pecksniff, pressing his hand
almost reverentially, 'but I seem to know you. That towering
forehead, my dear Jonas,' said Mr Pecksniff aside, 'and those
clustering masses of rich hair--I must have seen you, my dear sir, in
the sparkling throng.'

Nothing was more probable, they all agreed.

'I could have wished,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'to have had the
honour of introducing you to an elderly inmate of our house: to the
uncle of our friend. Mr Chuzzlewit, sir, would have been proud
indeed to have taken you by the hand.'

'Is the gentleman here now?' asked Montague, turning deeply red.
'He is,' said Mr Pecksniff.

'You said nothing about that, Chuzzlewit.'

'I didn't suppose you'd care to hear of it,' returned Jonas.
'You wouldn't care to know him, I can promise you.'

'Jonas! my dear Jonas!' remonstrated Mr Pecksniff. 'Really!'

'Oh! it's all very well for you to speak up for him,' said
Jonas. 'You have nailed him. You'll get a fortune by him.'

'Oho! Is the wind in that quarter?' cried Montague. 'Ha, ha,
ha!' and here they all laughed--especially Mr Pecksniff.

'No, no!' said that gentleman, clapping his son-in-law playfully
upon the shoulder. 'You must not believe all that my young relative
says, Mr Montague. You may believe him in official business, and
trust him in official business, but you must not attach importance to
his flights of fancy.'

'Upon my life, Mr Pecksniff,' cried Montague, 'I attach the
greatest importance to that last observation of his. I trust and
hope it's true. Money cannot be turned and turned again quickly
enough in the ordinary course, Mr Pecksniff. There is nothing like
building our fortune on the weaknesses of mankind.'

'Oh fie! oh fie, for shame!' cried Mr Pecksniff. But they all
laughed again--especially Mr Pecksniff.

'I give you my honour that we do it,' said Montague.

'Oh fie, fie!' cried Mr Pecksniff. 'You are very pleasant.
That I am sure you don't! That I am sure you don't! How can you,
you know?'

Again they all laughed in concert; and again Mr Pecksniff
laughed especially.

This was very agreeable indeed. It was confidential, easy,
straight-forward; and still left Mr Pecksniff in the position of
being in a gentle way the Mentor of the party. The greatest
achievements in the article of cookery that the Dragon had ever
performed, were set before them; the oldest and best wines in the
Dragon's cellar saw the light on that occasion; a thousand bubbles,
indicative of the wealth and station of Mr Montague in the depths of
his pursuits, were constantly rising to the surface of the
conversation; and they were as frank and merry as three honest men
could be. Mr Pecksniff thought it a pity (he said so) that Mr
Montague should think lightly of mankind and their weaknesses. He
was anxious upon this subject; his mind ran upon it; in one way or
another he was constantly coming back to it; he must make a convert
of him, he said. And as often as Mr Montague repeated his sentiment
about building fortunes on the weaknesses of mankind, and added
frankly, 'We do it!' just as often Mr Pecksniff repeated 'Oh fie! oh
fie, for shame! I am sure you don't. How can you, you know?' laying
a greater stress each time on those last words.

The frequent repetition of this playful inquiry on the part of
Mr Pecksniff, led at last to playful answers on the part of Mr
Montague; but after some little sharp-shooting on both sides, Mr
Pecksniff became grave, almost to tears; observing that if Mr
Montague would give him leave, he would drink the health of his young
kinsman, Mr Jonas; congratulating him upon the valuable and
distinguished friendship he had formed, but envying him, he would
confess, his usefulness to his fellow-creatures. For, if he
understood the objects of that Institution with which he was newly
and advantageously connected--knowing them but imperfectly--they were
calculated to do Good; and for his (Mr Pecksniff's) part, if he could
in any way promote them, he thought he would be able to lay his head
upon his pillow every night, with an absolute certainty of going to
sleep at once.

The transition from this accidental remark (for it was quite
accidental and had fallen from Mr Pecksniff in the openness of his
soul), to the discussion of the subject as a matter of business, was
easy. Books, papers, statements, tables, calculations of various
kinds, were soon spread out before them; and as they were all framed
with one object, it is not surprising that they should all have
tended to one end. But still, whenever Montague enlarged upon the
profits of the office, and said that as long as there were gulls upon
the wing it must succeed, Mr Pecksniff mildly said 'Oh fie!'-- and
might indeed have remonstrated with him, but that he knew he was
joking. Mr Pecksniff did know he was joking; because he said so.

There never had been before, and there never would be again,
such an opportunity for the investment of a considerable sum (the
rate of advantage increased in proportion to the amount invested), as
at that moment. The only time that had at all approached it, was the
time when Jonas had come into the concern; which made him ill-natured
now, and inclined him to pick out a doubt in this place, and a flaw
in that, and grumbling to advise Mr Pecksniff to think better of it.
The sum which would complete the proprietorship in this snug concern,
was nearly equal to Mr Pecksniff's whole hoard; not counting Mr
Chuzzlewit, that is to say, whom he looked upon as money in the Bank,
the possession of which inclined him the more to make a dash with his
own private sprats for the capture of such a whale as Mr Montague
described. The returns began almost immediately, and were immense.
The end of it was, that Mr Pecksniff agreed to become the last
partner and proprietor in the Anglo-Bengalee, and made an appointment
to dine with Mr Montague, at Salisbury, on the next day but one, then
and there to complete the negotiation.

It took so long to bring the subject to this head, that it was
nearly midnight when they parted. When Mr Pecksniff walked
downstairs to the door, he found Mrs Lupin standing there, looking
out.

'Ah, my good friend!' he said; 'not a-bed yet! Contemplating
the stars, Mrs Lupin?'

'It's a beautiful starlight night, sir.'

'A beautiful starlight night,' said Mr Pecksniff, looking up.
'Behold the planets, how they shine! Behold the--those two persons
who were here this morning have left your house, I hope, Mrs
Lupin?'

'Yes, sir. They are gone.'

'I am glad to hear it,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'Behold the wonders
of the firmament, Mrs Lupin! how glorious is the scene! When I look
up at those shining orbs, I think that each of them is winking to the
other to take notice of the vanity of men's pursuits. My fellowmen!'
cried Mr Pecksniff, shaking his head in pity; 'you are much mistaken;
my wormy relatives, you are much deceived! The stars are perfectly
contented (I suppose so) in their several spheres. Why are not you?
Oh! do not strive and struggle to enrich yourselves, or to get the
better of each other, my deluded friends, but look up there, with
me!'

Mrs Lupin shook her head, and heaved a sigh. It was very
affecting.

'Look up there, with me!' repeated Mr Pecksniff, stretching out
his hand; 'With me, a humble individual who is also an insect like
yourselves. Can silver, gold, or precious stones, sparkle like those
constellations! I think not. Then do not thirst for silver, gold,
or precious stones; but look up there, with me!'

With those words, the good man patted Mrs Lupin's hand between
his own, as if he would have added 'think of this, my good woman!'
and walked away in a sort of ecstasy or rapture, with his hat under
his arm.

Jonas sat in the attitude in which Mr Pecksniff had left him,
gazing moodily at his friend; who, surrounded by a heap of documents,
was writing something on an oblong slip of paper.

'You mean to wait at Salisbury over the day after to-morrow, do
you, then?' said Jonas.

'You heard our appointment,' returned Montague, without raising
his eyes. 'In any case I should have waited to see after the
boy.'

They appeared to have changed places again; Montague being in
high spirits; Jonas gloomy and lowering.

'You don't want me, I suppose?' said Jonas.

'I want you to put your name here,' he returned, glancing at him
with a smile, 'as soon as I have filled up the stamp. I may as well
have your note of hand for that extra capital. That's all I want. If
you wish to go home, I can manage Mr Pecksniff now, alone. There is
a perfect understanding between us.'

Jonas sat scowling at him as he wrote, in silence. When he had
finished his writing, and had dried it on the blotting paper in his
travelling-desk; he looked up, and tossed the pen towards him.

'What, not a day's grace, not a day's trust, eh?' said Jonas
bitterly. 'Not after the pains I have taken with to-night's
work?'

'To night's work was a part of our bargain,' replied Montague;
'and so was this.'

'You drive a hard bargain,' said Jonas, advancing to the table.
'You know best. Give it here!'

Montague gave him the paper. After pausing as if he could not
make up his mind to put his name to it, Jonas dipped his pen hastily
in the nearest inkstand, and began to write. But he had scarcely
marked the paper when he started back, in a panic.

'Why, what the devil's this?' he said. 'It's bloody!'

He had dipped the pen, as another moment showed, into red ink.
But he attached a strange degree of importance to the mistake. He
asked how it had come there, who had brought it, why it had been
brought; and looked at Montague, at first, as if he thought he had
put a trick upon him. Even when he used a different pen, and the
right ink, he made some scratches on another paper first, as half
believing they would turn red also.

'Black enough, this time,' he said, handing the note to
Montague. 'Good-bye.'

'Going now! how do you mean to get away from here?'

'I shall cross early in the morning to the high road, before you
are out of bed; and catch the day-coach, going up. Good-bye!'

'You are in a hurry!'

'I have something to do,' said Jonas. 'Good-bye!'

His friend looked after him as he went out, in surprise, which
gradually gave place to an air of satisfaction and relief.

'It happens all the better. It brings about what I wanted,
without any difficulty. I shall travel home alone.'