Martin Chuzzlewit
‘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